www.thetopzones.co.uk

The 2022 Subaru Outback Wildnerness promises to go where only the courageous dare to explore. Aimed at outdoor enthusiasts wanting more out of their wagon, the Outback Wilderness, a trim above Onyx XT, and positioned just below the Limited XT and Touring XT, is set to arrive this spring. It is the most rugged and capable Outback to date.

In Wilderness trim, America’s favorite all-wheel-drive crossover  will have a starting price of $38,120 and a whole bunch of sweet new gear. For starters, the Wilderness has a ground clearance of 9.5 inches thanks to a 0.8-inch suspension lift. Further improving stability, it also gets tuned shocks and springs, which do not compromise ride quality on regular roads. Additional standard equipment includes 17-inch wheels in wrapped Yokohama Geolandar all-terrain tires, a front skid plate, a full-size spare, and a fixed roof rack with a 700-pound capacity.

The Wilderness adds a new grille along with front and rear bumpers. Other noticeable changes consist of more pronounced wheel arch claddings, matte black trim, a black decal on the hood, and Anodized Copper trim throughout. New are also six-LED fog lights exclusive to the Wilderness model.

Inside, the rugged theme continues with Anodized Copper applied to the seats, door panels, center console, and dashboard. The Outback Wilderness features an 11.6-inch infotainment system, and Subaru is only offering one optional package, that among other items, adds navigation and a sunroof.

A 2.4-liter turbocharged H-4 engine producing 260 hp and 277 lb-ft comes standard on the Wilderness, and it pairs to continuously variable transmission. The CVT now has a final-drive ratio of 4:44:1 instead of 4.11:1 in the lower grade models. For those looking to spruce up their factory-ready Outback Wilderness a bit more, there are plenty of accessories that get the job done.

By way of comparison, the less-powerful but also outdoor-oriented 2021 Toyota RAV4 TRD Off-Road rings up at $37,155, while the 2021 Jeep Cherokee Trailhawk starts at $37,155. For non-Wilderness Outbacks, the 2022 models start at $28,070 for non-turbo models. The 2022 Legacy sedan starts at $23,955.

The post 2022 Subaru Outback Wilderness Gets Price That Isn’t Out There appeared first on MotorTrend.

JLL has appointed Andrew Barker as the new head of sustainability consulting.

Online shopping giant Amazon has revealed plans to open a hair salon in London’s Spitalfields.

SevenCapital has secured a £43.5m development loan from Maslow Capital for its new residential project in Bracknell, The Grand Exchange.

First drive: 2022 Hyundai Tucson electrifies its looks and powertrain The redesigned 2022 Hyundai Tucson is bigger, more stylish, and finally adds a hybrid model that’s more powerful and more efficient than the gas version. First drive (again): The 2022 Volkswagen Taos shows off its handling, unwraps interior The 2022 Volkswagen Taos is an...

The 2022 Subaru Outback will cost between $50 and $150 more than the 2021 Outback, but all models will come standard with LED fog lights, the automaker announced Monday. The LED fog lights can't improve the Outback's stellar safety ratings. The Outback comes standard with all-wheel drive, hill descent control, adaptive cruise control, active lane...

Footfall was up 648% in the first week non-essential retail was allowed to reopen in England, compared with the same week last year, Property Week can reveal.

Panattoni has acquired an 8.33-acre development on the M3 corridor in Farnborough, south-east of London in Hampshire.

Cushman & Wakefield and CBRE have been appointed as leasing agents at The Crown Estate’s the Quadrant Arcade.

The world has changed and the 2022 Subaru Outback Wilderness promises to change with it. As travel plans switch from overhead to overland, Subaru upgrades its defining vehicle with a new Wilderness variant. It costs $38,120, including $1,125 destination, and goes on sale this summer, Subaru announced Monday. The Wilderness doesn't climb to the top...

McLaren Group’s headquarters has been sold to Global Net Lease for £170m.

Any new BMW M3 is a big deal to the enthusiast car community. Forget for a moment what the car actually is and focus instead on understanding what it represents. The M3 is the souped-up, hot-rodded, better-to-drive version of the traditional Ultimate Driving Machine, the BMW 3 Series. The 3 Series is supposed to be a driver’s car right out of the box; the 3 Series after BMW’s M Division performance gurus have fiddled with it? We’re talking hopes and dreams here, people.

While it will never be cheap, this level of M performance should be somewhat attainable. M3s tend to look pretty good, too, going all the way back to the swole-fendered, deep-chinned, bewinged OG E30 version of the 1980s. I don’t think I’ll ruffle too many feathers by saying fans of fast cars want any new M3 to be handsome, quick, expensive without being exclusive, and—above all else—wonderful to drive. The all-new G80-generation 2021 BMW M3 isn’t that exact car. So, what is it?

That Face

It would be a dereliction of auto scribe duty for me to go one sentence further without mentioning this car’s face. It’s insane. I’ve been staring at it online for months, and in person for more than a week. The twin, massive grille structures have not grown on me. The nostrils do not look better in person, nor have I gotten used to them. The design is … “ugly” isn’t the word, as that’s too easy. But I do have a theory about why. For the most part, when people think the front end or face of a car is good looking, they’re anthropomorphizing it. That means they’re projecting human qualities onto what they’re looking at. Headlights as eyes and the grille as a mouth, etc.

The face of the new M3 (and its two-door sibling, the M4) doesn’t look human. It’s alien, unfamiliar, insectoid. As such, the front of the car is repulsive. Meaning the opposite of attractive. Have you seen a potato bug? Also known as a Jerusalem cricket, these slimy, prehistoric, hissing (they literally hiss!) abominations make my skin crawl. They repulse me. I have no way of knowing if BMW did so intentionally, but it’s created a car that repulses people in the same way. If you see a G80 M3 bearing down on you (and it will be bearing down on you), you’ll instinctively get out of its way. One of my favorite German words is Überholprestige, which means “overtaking prestige,” as in, when you glimpse a car in your mirror, it’s using its Überholprestige to make you pull right and let it pass. Viewed through this particular lens, the M3’s face works. That said, I don’t enjoy looking at it.

Is the rest of the car good to look at? No, not really. It’s safe to say that this generation of M3 is a dud, design-wise. The side is a bit homely, and BMW didn’t spend the money to flare the rear door skin to match the swollen rear fender. The result is an abrupt transition from door to fender that looks cheap. The rear end is generic. I suppose I should say “generic with four huge pipes and a carbon splitter,” but it’s generic all the same.

What About Inside?

If you look closely at the interior photos, you will notice what looks to be a carbon-fiber tray that sits between the thighs of either front seat occupant. Well, that’s exactly what it is. That’s part of the $3,800 M Carbon bucket-seat option. I drove a different Frozen Portimao Blue M3 with these seats for about three minutes. Just around the block to get a taste. I did not like these seats. Unlike the no doubt thin, six-and-a-half-foot-tall German engineers who designed these chairs, I’m—like so many Americans—not so tall and possessed of beefier thighs. Point is, I initially did not like the seats. Then I had to drive all the way across Los Angeles on the 405 with its perpetual, horrible traffic. Ninety minutes later, I’d come to the conclusion that these carbon-backed thrones are the least comfortable I’ve ever sat in. And I’ve sat in a McLaren Senna.

Then I drove the M3 Competition the way it was designed to be driven, which is to say hard. Very hard, in fact. And now I believe these are the best performance seats ever fitted to a car. If they’re not the actual best, then they’re as good as any. These optional seats hold you perfectly in place during high-spirited license-jeopardizing hoonage. For normal everyday commuting, however, they’re bad. Choose wisely. The rest of the interior is very much like an M5’s or an M8’s, with the addition of the cruel M Drift Analyzer. I held a 24-yard-long drift at a 31.6-degree angle for 3.4 seconds and the damn thing only gave me one star out of four.

The entry price for an M3 Competition is $73,795. Our test car? $104,245. Yes, that’s more than $30,000 in options. Must-have extras? I think the carbon-ceramic brakes for $8,150 are totally worth it. Do you need the $950 carbon trim inside? At $4,700, the M Carbon Exterior package is probably a waste (even if the front intakes are choice), especially since the critical exterior carbon bit, the carbon-fiber roof, is standard. I could go either way on the $2,500 M Driver’s package, which raises the top speed from 155 mph to 186 and includes a one-day “high-performance driving class” at a BMW Performance Center. On second thought, splurge.

Mmm … Performance

Yes, the G80 M3 is larger and heavier than the previous F80 M3. The wheelbase has grown by 1.8 inches, and the car is 4.6 inches longer and about half an inch wider. While the weight increased, it’s not as bad as you might think. Ninety-nine pounds separate a 2016 M3 Competition (3,646 pounds) from this M3 Comp, which our scales say sits at 3,745 pounds. That’s not light, but it’s not a figure one should rend their garments over, either. In fact, it’s still light. The M3 Competition’s most direct competitor, the 505-hp Alfa Romeo Giulia Quadrifoglio, weighs 3,785 pounds, and the last Mercedes-AMG C63 S we tested registered 3,936 pounds. While we’ve never weighed an Audi RS5 Sportback, its S5 Sportback relative clocked in at 4,092 pounds. It’s a safe bet that the RS5 version is heavier still. What about all the hand wringing you saw on the internet saying that the M3’s too big and heavy? Caveat lectorum.

The M3 Competition’s S58 turbocharged 3.0-liter I-6 engine is rated for 503 hp and 479 lb-ft of torque; the non-Comp model makes 473 horses and 406 lb-ft, for reference. The output runs through an eight-speed ZF automatic transmission and onto the rear wheels. (All-wheel drive is available for 2022.) Can you still get a manual transmission? Yes, but not on the Comp.

As you’d expect, this BMW is quick. The 2021 M3 Competition hits 60 mph in 3.5 seconds, handily beating the 2016 M3 Comp’s 4.3-second run. Same story in the quarter mile—the old car did it in 12.5 seconds at 118.0 mph. The G80 is nearly a second quicker at 11.6 seconds, while it trips the lights at 125.6 mph. That Alfa? 3.8 seconds to 60 mph and the quarter in 12.1 at 116.2 mph. Braking is a bit of a wash, with the old M3 Competition stopping from 60 mph in 100 feet and the new one needing 102; the Giulia Quad splits the two at 101 feet. However, the M3 Comp’s figure-eight time is much improved: 23.8 seconds versus 24.2 for both the old M3 and the Alfa. We consider less than 24 seconds around our handling course to be a supercar.

How’s It Drive?

Wow. I wasn’t prepared for how brutal, how relentless, how indomitable the G80 BMW M3 Competition feels on the road. The initial impression is all torque—buckets and suitcases full of it. The S58 engine produces peak torque over a glass-flat “curve” from 2,600 to 6,000 rpm, and the car’s forward thrust simply never relents. Third, fourth, or fifth gear, it doesn’t even matter because you’re still in the meat of the “curve.” Bimmer fanboys and girls wrinkled their collective noses over the fact that the last-gen car’s dual-clutch gearbox was dumped in favor of a plain-ol’ automatic. These same types are also upset that anything other than a manual exists. The reality? If I told you the transmission was actually a dual-clutch, you probably wouldn’t know the difference. That’s how quick ZF’s ’box has gotten. Sure, downshifts could be a fraction of a second quicker, but that’s getting into the realm of nitpicking.

The front end is remarkable. Planted, accurate, neutral—it’s about as good as sporty cars get. The steering is incredibly direct and there’s not a lick of understeer, which is not easy to pull off on a street car this nose heavy (weight distribution is 53/47 percent front and rear). There’s barely any oversteer, either. My horribly judged drift attempts notwithstanding, I struggled to get a tire to squeal. This thing is absolutely stuck down. It truly feels as if the G80 M3 was built around its Michelin Pilot Sport 4S tires. Pilot Sport Cup 2 ultra-high-performance rubber is available in other markets, but in the United States, we’re just being offered the regular high-performance meats. I’m going to say something weird, but I don’t think we need the Cup 2s. Again, the M3 is as planted as any car I’ve driven.

Popular internet opinion says the new M3 is now really an M5. The reality is that’s in the M5’s dreams. Aside from the fact that the G80 M3 is more than 400 pounds lighter than the current F90 M5, the G80 M3 is also around 200 pounds lighter than the legendary E39 M5. Even the 311-hp E34 M5 weighs 100 pounds more than this car. No M5 has ever felt this fleet, this exact, this sporting. Sorry, internet, but that’s the truth. Sure, the original 282-hp E28 M5 was much lighter, but that one had nowhere near this sort of power-to-weight ratio. No, the G80 M3 is something else entirely.

The Verdict

While I have yet to slide behind the wheel of an E30 M3, I’ve driven more than my fair share of every other generation of M3. Years ago, I drove an E46 M3 back-to-back on a track with a 997-generation Porsche 911 Carrera S. The E46 was nice and fun and all that, but the 911 seemed twice as quick and 50 times as good. You wouldn’t really think to ever compare the two. Fast forward, and not only did I have this pig-faced M3 at home, but also a Porsche 911 Carrera S manual. I took both Germans up the same road on the same day—the best way there is to compare cars. The BMW felt quicker, and according to our test numbers, it is. I’m almost positive that on a racetrack, the 519-pound-lighter Porsche would find a way to exert its supremacy—that’s what Porsches do. But in the canyons? Where both cars will be driven the majority of the time? I’d rather have the 2021 M3 Competition. This car is that good. I’d just need to remember to always park the thing with its ghastly nose in.

SPECIFICATIONS 2021 BMW M3 Competition BASE PRICE $73,795 PRICE AS TESTED $104,245 VEHICLE LAYOUT Front-engine, RWD, 5-pass, 4-door sedan ENGINE 3.0L/503-hp/479-lb-ft turbo DOHC 24-valve I-6 TRANSMISSION 8-speed automatic CURB WEIGHT (F/R DIST) 3,745 lb (53/47%) WHEELBASE 112.5 in LENGTH x WIDTH x HEIGHT 189.1 x 74.3 x 56.4 in 0-60 MPH 3.5 sec QUARTER MILE 11.6 sec @ 125.6 mph BRAKING, 60-0 MPH 102 ft LATERAL ACCELERATION 1.03 g (avg) MT FIGURE EIGHT 23.8 sec @ 0.85 g (avg) EPA CITY/HWY/COMB FUEL ECON 16/23/19 mpg ENERGY CONS, CITY/HWY 211/147 kWh/100 miles CO2 EMISSIONS, COMB 1.05 lb/mile

The post 2021 BMW M3 Competition First Test: Facing the Facts appeared first on MotorTrend.

Digital connectivity certification firm WiredScore has launched SmartScore, a certification for smart buildings.

Ivanhoé Cambridge has committed to achieving net zero carbon for its international portfolio by 2040.

Three shopping centres across England are being offered at Allsop’s next commercial auction, which takes place on 6 May.

None of us wants to believe we’d fall for a marketing pitch or an advertising line. We’re all sophisticated, modern consumers who’ve seen it all. We’re jaded, and too smart to be sold, anyway. But there’s a reason you remember commercial jingles years or even decades later. There’s a reason you prefer one brand over the other, even if you can’t really explain why. None of this is by accident; it’s the work of teams of professional marketers with untold budgets saturating the world with carefully crafted messaging based on decades of psychological and behavioral research. It’s also the reason you should keep being jaded and skeptical of the messages you’re bombarded with, because they’re designed to sell you something, not convey an irrefutable truth. Automotive advertising is no exception, and the 2022 Acura MDX SH-AWD isn’t delivering what the marketing is promising.

Looking Beyond the Advertising

Go to Acura’s website right now and look up the MDX. “Performance” is the overriding message. It’s listed as a “premium performance SUV,” performance is the first of three categories presented for further information, and an additional section on performance is directly below. It’s consistent with all of Acura’s messaging about the MDX, and the direction of the greater Acura brand, both of which center on “precision crafted performance.”

The issue is, the MDX doesn’t deliver. Not on that message, anyway.

But no one buys a three-row premium SUV because it kicks ass on the racetrack. That’s not what these vehicles are made for. Comfort, convenience, technology, space—those are the things that really matter. And those are the places where the MDX largely succeeds.

More Space for Activities

This big SUV has grown in every dimension, opening up useful space throughout. There’s more cargo room behind every row and even stowage under the rear cargo floor (without giving up the spare tire like some automakers do). There’s a bit more passenger space in the first two rows and significantly more than before in the third row, where an average height adult can now fit. After all, those kids in the third row are going to get a lot bigger in the 10 years you’re statistically likely to keep this vehicle.

Roomier rear accommodations are welcome, but passengers are going to be underwhelmed by the seats. A hard, flat, unsupportive third row may be industry standard, but it’s disappointing in the second row. At least those middle seats fold and slide forward with the touch of a button to allow third-row access. That may be less elegant and luxurious than power actuation but is magnitudes faster. How Acura engineers came up with that time and effort saver but awkwardly placed the handles that release the folded third-row seats where you must climb into the back of the car to reach them is beyond us.

Similarly, being able to remove the middle seating section in the second row is a nice trick, but actually lifting it out of the vehicle is awkward and cumbersome, and the resulting exposed mounts in the floor make it look like something is missing. Nothing about this says “luxury.”

The front row is where Acura really delivered. There’s a bit more stretch-out room, seat heaters are standard, and the Advance Package features 16-way heated and cooled seats that remain comfortable at the end of a seven-hour road trip and still offer good lateral support in corners.

Hi-Tech, High Atop the Learning Curve

Acura promises the most tech it has ever put in a vehicle, and it delivered. The execution, though, is a mixed bag.

The optional ELS Studio 3D stereo is fantastic, providing the kind of clarity and range you usually have to pay a lot more money for on a much more expensive car. You have to operate it, though, through Acura’s controversial True Touchpad Interface. It’s a powerful system and highly customizable, but the learning curve is extremely steep. Every little feature can be made a favorite, so once you’ve got it set up the way you want and get used to the way the touchpad works—you don’t use it like a trackpad, instead touching it exactly where you would on the main screen—it’s very convenient. But getting there is a struggle.

The infotainment setup has all the right add-ons, though. Wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto are included, and Amazon’s Alexa voice assistant is integrated into the system. Unfortunately, Alexa responds to a lot of words that sound vaguely like “Alexa,” making it more annoying than helpful.

It’s a similar situation with the new digital instrument cluster. You’ll want to dig through the menu and switch it to the “Crafted” layout, which looks like traditional round gauges. The “Advanced” layout tries to take advantage of the design freedom offered by a screen but ends up looking like someone put all kinds of information and graphics in a bucket and threw it at a chalkboard. There’s too much information competing for your attention, half of which isn’t useful.

We’re also of two minds on the advanced driver aids. We’re happy to see all the latest features included and things like traffic-jam assist are very helpful, but the lane-centering system is so hyperactive with its near-constant steering corrections that you’ll probably just want to switch it off.

Promised Performance Mostly Undelivered

All the right technology is present under the skin, but in this case, it really doesn’t deliver. A new and considerably more rigid platform, a new control arm front suspension and revised multi-link rear suspension, next-generation torque-vectoring all-wheel drive that can send more power rearward and do so more quickly, bigger brakes, variable-ratio electric power steering, a new transmission with more aggressive gearing and faster shifting; this thing has it all.

Put it on our test track, though, and the only metric by which it outperforms the old MDX is acceleration. A lower first gear gets the new model off the line quicker, cutting the 0–60-mph time by 0.6 second to 5.7 seconds. It’s all the launch, though, because the new MDX is actually slower in our 45–65-mph passing test by 0.1 second.

Stopping from 60 mph is also slightly worse. Despite the bigger brakes, the new MDX needs 118 feet to stop from that speed, 2 feet more than the 2019 MDX SH-AWD A-Spec we tested. No doubt a contributing factor is the additional mass, with the 2022 model carrying 269 more pounds than the 2019 as a result of growing slightly in every external dimension.

The thrust of Acura’s pitch, though, is really about handling. All that suspension and all-wheel-drive work should pay some real dividends, but it doesn’t. The new MDX pulls 0.84 g on the skidpad, versus the previous model’s 0.85, but that’s a paltry difference compared to the figure-eight result. That test measures acceleration, braking, handling, and the transitions between them, and the new MDX was way slower than before. With a 28.6-second lap at 0.60 average g, it can’t hold a candle to the old model’s 27.1-second lap at 0.65 average g.

Performance Isn’t Just About the Numbers, Is It?

Here at MT, we believe the way a vehicle feels to the driver matters as much or more than the numbers it generates on the test track, and the test driver’s notes do say the MDX felt sporty and even power oversteered off the corners. Maybe there’s something there, after all? Only if you drive it like you’re at a racetrack.

On the road, the overwhelming impression is one of adequacy. The 2022 MDX gets the job done, and that’s about it. There’s nothing about the way it drives on real-world roads, straight or curvy, that’s sporty or even memorable. It’s extremely competent, sure, but it has no soul. The steering is numb, and the way the body moves is controlled to the point of feeling robotic. It never gets into a groove. The torque-vectoring works, making the handling more precise, but not more exciting.

In fact, the wrong things make the drive exciting. Like the smaller RDX, the MDX features a brake pedal tuned for perfect limousine stops that don’t disturb your passengers in the slightest. An admirable goal, but in practice it makes the brake pedal feel like stepping on a wet sponge. Nothing happens until the pedal is halfway to the floor. Stopping from higher speeds the first few times means applying the brakes then stomping on them to get the stopping power you wanted the first time. Hardly elegant.

It’s a similar feeling under acceleration. As the testing shows, the MDX gets off the line, but it’s soggy in the middle. Acura’s 3.5-liter V-6 is old and feels overwhelmed by the weight of this vehicle. The new 10-speed automatic transmission does its best, but all the power and torque are at the top of the rev range, and worse, there’s a plateau in the torque delivery between 2,500 and 3,500 rpm. It’s a good thing the transmission can drop four gears at once when you put your foot down, because that’s the only way this thing really gets moving. Otherwise, you’re always giving it a lot more gas than you think you should to get the response you want. (Thankfully, an MDX Type S with a turbocharged 3.0-liter V-6 is on the way.)

But Is It Luxurious?

Being a “premium” brand rather than a traditional “luxury” brand cuts both ways. It allows Acura to sell its vehicles for significantly less money than the old-school luxury brands, but it means costs have to be saved somewhere. Acura mostly has the balance right, keeping the interior very quiet, offering a bangin’ sound system, and loading up on the latest tech.

There are misses, though, in the little details. Acura’s “Milano” leather looks and feels less rich than the leather in luxury competitors, and the textured plastic trim between the bits of real wood and metal looks like something from a Honda Civic. The center console layout is odd, with the wireless phone charger underneath a wrist rest that makes it awkward to get your phone in and out. Then there’s all the empty space around the protruding pushbutton shifter, and the maddening inelegance of going to all the trouble to house the USB charging ports in a pop-up module only to paste a giant battery logo on it and ruin the effect.

Should You Buy One, Then?

As much as the MDX is hit or miss on the tech, the luxury, and the driving experience, it’s really good at what it needs to be: a nicer mainstream SUV. Compare it to a Honda Pilot and you see a lot of style and tech advantages for not a lot of extra money. Compare it to an Audi Q7 and you understand why the true luxury brands are so much more expensive than the premium ones. The 2022 MDX gets the job done fine, but a forgettable driving experience, some frustrating tech, and uncomfortable rear seats mean “fine” is as good as it gets.

SPECIFICATIONS 2022 Acura MDX SH-AWD A-Spec BASE PRICE $58,125 PRICE AS TESTED $58,125 VEHICLE LAYOUT Front-engine, AWD, 7-pass, 4-door SUV ENGINE 3.5L/290-hp/267-lb-ft  SOHC 24-valve V-6 TRANSMISSION 10-speed automatic CURB WEIGHT (F/R DIST) 4,487 lb (58/42%) WHEELBASE 113.8 in LENGTH x WIDTH x HEIGHT 198.4 x 78.7 x 67.1 in 0-60 MPH 5.7 sec QUARTER MILE 14.4 sec @ 93.2 mph BRAKING, 60-0 MPH 118 ft LATERAL ACCELERATION 0.84 g (avg) MT FIGURE EIGHT 28.6 sec @ 0.60 g (avg) EPA CITY/HWY/COMB FUEL ECON 19/25/21 mpg ENERGY CONS, CITY/HWY 177/135 kWh/100 miles CO2 EMISSIONS, COMB 0.91 lb/mile

The post 2022 Acura MDX SH-AWD A-Spec First Test: Gets the Job Done appeared first on MotorTrend.

Hammerson has told investors that market conditions have remained challenging since the results update in early March.

Impact Healthcare REIT has struck deals to buy a care home near Lowestoft and enter into a pre-let forward funding arrangement for a new home in Norwich.

The all-new 2022 Hyundai Tucson makes finding its central theme impossible: With its polarizing exterior styling, relaxing cabin, and unexpected driving character, this compact SUV embodies contrasts that somehow blend into a pleasantly cohesive whole. And the takeaway from that whole? If you work for Honda or Toyota, you might want to pay serious attention to the new Tucson.

It’s Less Shocking in Person

We’ll begin with the obvious: the 2022 Tucson’s exterior styling. With aerodynamic concerns turning most SUVs into look-alike blobs, designers at most automakers use sheetmetal surfacing to manipulate reflections into forming the vehicle’s “lines.” Hyundai has done the opposite with its compact SUV, using sharply creased panels to break its look into disharmonious planes. The styling is a bit jarring in studio-lit photos, but it’s much subtler in person, and we like it as a creative way to make the Tucson stand out from other SUVs.

The new grille is a sign of the times (did Hyundai have mask mandates in mind when approving the design?) and we love the way the integrated daytime running lights and turn signals go black when the Tucson is shut off. This seems to be a sign Hyundai is moving away from the recently introduced front-end look we were just getting used to on the Venue, Kona, Santa Fe, and Palisade. Finally, we cannot figure out why Hyundai felt the need to rip off the Ford Mustang Mach-E’s taillights.

The New Tucson’s Contrasting Cabin

If you’re expecting the exterior styling to bleed into the cabin, you’re in for a surprise. The Tucson’s interior has a completely different aesthetic, and it’s stellar. The dashboard forms a wide arc around the driver and front passenger, with the instruments and center stack floating on standalone panels. The arc carries into the back seat, interrupted (rather rudely, we might add) by the B-pillar. It’s a lovely design that doesn’t compromise ergonomics.

The displays are crisp and bright—bright enough, Hyundai points out, there’s no need to shade the instrument panel for daylight visibility. The movement of the computerized needles is Disney-smooth, and the gauges change with a rather nifty animation when a different drive mode is selected.

On the center stack, the 2022 Hyundai Tucson employs touch-sensitive panels in place of traditional hard buttons, and the “virtual” buttons are spaced out and marked well enough to be easy to find and press while on the move. Our biggest complaint is the lack of a proper volume knob for the stereo. No doubt Hyundai didn’t want to interrupt the waterfall flow of the center screen, but we would have preferred a more creative solution (like this one, which Hyundai should have ripped off from the Mustang Mach-E). There’s a reason the humble volume knob has endured throughout the hundred-year history of broadcast radio, and its omission is one of the Tucson’s few glaring faults. Honda learned this lesson the hard way last decade; let’s hope it doesn’t take Hyundai as long to solve this problem.

Go Ahead, Spread Out Inside

Speaking of Honda, nearly everything about the Tucson aft of the front seats reminds us of the Honda CR-V, and we mean that as the highest compliment possible. Lack of rear-seat legroom was one of the complaints consumers had about the outgoing Tucson, so Hyundai developed short- and long-wheelbase versions; the latter is the only version for the U.S. The result is a 3.1-inch stretch in legroom over the outgoing Tucson and 0.9 inch more than the benchmark CR-V. It’s a great back seat, with supportive cushions set nice and high to give a great view out the front windshield, something those prone to carsickness will appreciate.

One of the things we admire most about the CR-V is the concert-hall-sized luggage bay, and the Tucson offers a similar yawning chasm for cargo, trailing the Honda by a mere half a cubic foot, at 38.7 or 38.8 cubes depending on the model. The hands-free tailgate can be opened merely by standing behind the Tucson with the key fob on your person; no awkward kicking under the bumper. Hyundai has even adopted cargo-bay seat-back releases, too, as seen in the Honda, which allows you to drop the rear seat backs while standing at the back bumper. Very nice.

Small Engine Acting Big

Let’s talk about how the 2022 Hyundai Tucson drives. The Tucson will launch with conventional and hybrid powertrains, with a plug-in hybrid coming in a few months. We spent most of our time with the hybrid, which sandwiches an electric motor between a 1.6-liter turbocharged four-cylinder engine and a six-speed automatic transmission. The engine itself delivers 180 hp and 195 lb-ft, and combined output with the electric motor is 226 hp and 265 lb-ft of torque. All Tucson hybrids come standard with Hyundai’s HTRAC all-wheel-drive system.

This style of hybrid delivers a more conventional feel than the Honda or Toyota systems. The engine revs and shifts like a conventional powertrain, as opposed to the Honda CR-V Hybrid’s engine, which is either silent or screaming. The electric motor gives a strong and smooth boost to low-end torque, and if you didn’t know better, you might think you were driving an SUV with a six-cylinder engine. The Tucson Hybrid moves away from a stop with authority, and there’s plenty of git-up for passing on a two-lane road.

One thing confused us: The pushbutton transmission has no “B” mode to crank up the regenerative braking, which recharges the battery as the vehicle decelerates. Using the steering-wheel-mounted paddles downshifts the transmission but doesn’t turn up the regen. The only way to take advantage of regenerative braking on a long downgrade is to ride the brake pedal—but Hyundai’s integration of regenerative and friction braking is so seamless (something some automakers can’t seem to get right)  it’s impossible to tell if you’re merely charging the battery or if you’re well on your way to boiling your brake fluid. Considering how much thought Hyundai put into the smart regenerative brake controls on the battery-powered Kona Electric, it’s curious that this important feature has been all but ignored in the Tucson Hybrid.

EPA fuel-economy numbers for the Tucson Hybrid are just shy of the Honda CR-V Hybrid’s at 38 mpg combined for the Blue model, 37 for the SEL and Limited—and we’ll need more seat time to see if the Tucson can deliver the same stellar real-world economy as the Honda. Still, the top trims of the Tucson Hybrid (SEL Convenience and Limited) only cost around $1,200 more than their conventionally powered all-wheel-drive counterparts, which makes them an exceptionally good buy. We’d take the hybrid option just for its better power delivery.

Big Engine Acting Small

Not that there’s anything wrong with the Tucson’s conventional engine, a stout, 2.5-liter four-cylinder that delivers 187 horsepower and 178 lb-ft to an eight-speed automatic transmission, with a choice of front- or all-wheel-drive. No turbochargers here: Like Toyota did with the RAV4, Hyundai has come to the conclusion that there’s no replacement for displacement. We drove the 2.5-liter Tucson after the Hybrid, and while the electrified Tucson is a tough act to follow, we liked the 2.5’s strong acceleration, even if it wasn’t quite as smooth as the hybrid’s, as well as its restrained volume levels. Fuel-economy estimates are modest (24/29 mpg city/highway with all-wheel drive), but in our experience, big naturally aspirated engines do a better job with real-world fuel economy than small turbo engines like the one used in the Honda CR-V.

The ride in both versions was firmer than we expect from a family SUV. A stiff suspension should hold the promise of better handling, and while curvy roads are hard to find in Tucson, Arizona—the obvious place for a media test drive, right?—on the few curves we did find, the vehicular Tucson exhibited good grip and minimal roll, though not much excitement. Similarly, the steering didn’t offer much feedback and felt artificially heavy when turning the wheel, although the smooth pavement didn’t give the Tucson much opportunity to show its stuff. We’ll have to test a Tucson at our Los Angeles or Detroit offices to cast a verdict on whether the handling shows enough of an improvement to justify the stiffer ride, but our first impression is that we’d give up a little grip for a little more compliance.

Hands on the Wheel!

Our high-trim Tucsons featured Hyundai’s latest driver assist technologies, and the adaptive cruise control and lane keeping assistance systems worked well. With the latter engaged, we took our hands off the wheel to see how long it took before the Tucson warned us (don’t try this at home, kids!), and much to our surprise, it never did—not sure how that one got past Hyundai’s product liability team. Our test car also had the remote-moving feature of the Sonata: Press and hold a button on the key fob, and the driverless Tucson will crawl slowly forward or backward, supposedly to squeeze into that last, too-narrow parking spot. Unfortunately, there’s no feature to stop the poor sap next to whom the Tucson is parked from dinging the daylights out of your doors.

There’s more coming from the Tucson lineup, including a plug-in hybrid variant offering 261 hp and 32 miles of electric-only range, plus a sporty-themed N Line version. (In addition, the new Tucson provides the basis for Hyundai’s new Santa Cruz small pickup truck.) What we’ve seen so far of Hyundai’s new compact SUV has impressed us: We like the 2022 Hyundai Tucson’s exterior styling and love the interior styling. Passenger and luggage space are stellar—unless they are avid refrigerator collectors, a family of four really doesn’t need an SUV much bigger than this. The 2.5-liter engine is good, and the hybrid powertrain is great. Pricing is reasonable, starting at $26,135 for the front-wheel-drive SE and topping out at $38,535 for the hybrid-powered Limited AWD model. We think the 2022 Hyundai Tucson would be better with a volume knob, a B-for-braking mode on the hybrid, and possibly a slightly softer ride, but the new Tucson so far seems like a magnificent alternative to the class-leading Toyota RAV4 and Honda CR-V.

2022 Hyundai Tucson Limited AWD Specifications PRICE $37,285 LAYOUT Front-engine, AWD, 5-pass, 4-door SUV ENGINE 2.5L/187-hp/178-lb-ft DOHC 16-valve I-4 TRANSMISSION 8-speed auto CURB WEIGHT 3,651 lb (mfr) WHEELBASE 108.5 in L x W x H 182.3 x 73.4 x 65.6 in 0–60 MPH N/A EPA FUEL ECON 24/29/26 mpg ENERGY CONSUMPTION, CITY/HWY 140/116 kWh/100 miles CO2 EMISSIONS, COMB 0.75 lb/mile ON SALE Now

The post 2022 Hyundai Tucson First Drive Review: Style, Space, and Serenity appeared first on MotorTrend.

Automakers, like humans, are creatures of habit. If we find something that works, we tend to stick with it until it doesn’t anymore. Hyundai has done exactly that with the redesigned 2022 Tucson. After the Elantra’s successful update in 2021 that garnered the compact sedan a TCC Best Car to Buy nomination, the Tucson’s 2022...