THERE’S a small group of mass-produced Rising Sun brands with an enviable reputation and slightly ‘premium’ price tags. Think Mazda, Subaru and Honda.Suzuki can’t mix in these lofty circles, yet… Best known for its small cars, compact off-roaders and motorcycles, Suzuki hopes the new mid-sized Kizashi will elevate its standing in consumerland and springboard its branding from the mezzanine to the penthouse.Pitched as a sporty sedan, the front-wheel-drive Kizashi has been well received for its smart styling, amply appointed cabin and decent ride and handling.Enter the Kizashi Sport AWD variant, with a switchable all-paw system, and CVT. Badging it ‘Sport’ is a bit of a stretch. The running gear is the same as the front-drive Kizashi, and the AWD version is naturally heavier, by 70kg, so perhaps less accelerative.It’s outdoorsy with an inclination to tackle the slushy roads of the snowfields much in the way Subies do. But sporty it ain’t. Not without more grunt, anyway.Along with that hopeful Sport nomenclature, the AWD Kizashi is differentiated from its FWD sibling by a bodykit and mesh grille, a 10mm-lower ride height and 18-inch alloys.The Sport AWD is based on the range-topping Kizashi XLS, meaning the full catalogue of six ’bags, dual-zone air, heated front seats, keyless entry and ignition, driver’s adjustable memory seat, stability control, rain-sensing wipers, front and rear park sensors, terrific dusk-sensing HID lights and 425-Watt Rockford Fosgate audio.The functional side is obvious too – the excellent, comfortable seats, full-size spare, big and versatile boot and the engine’s 91-octane fuel compatibility. Most soft-roaders and crossover vehicles employ reactive AWD systems that engage all four wheels only after detecting traction loss. The Suzuki i-AWD system is superior.The Kizashi AWD showed its all-conditions competence during two slippery dirt-road drives to a snow-covered summit near Queenstown, New Zealand. This was the legendary old Race to the Sky hillclimb and taming the slushy, rutted surface was a challenge.On the twisty asphalt highways, it’s a relaxing drive thanks to its sorted dynamics and comfy cabin. But the many ascents encountered revealed some shortcomings, particularly the lack of engine torque, along with the CVT’s intrusive buzziness.Paddleshifting the CVT gave the impression of greater control and sportiness. But there’s no doubting a manual would have been more fun and … sportier.

DS? SPELL IT as the French say it and you get Deessee or ‘Goddess’, the perfect name for perhaps the most advanced car ever designed. Is it possible for a hip 21st Century hatchback named DS3 to live up to the inspired genius of the original?Citroen sees DS as a technology-driven sub-brand of prestige models – with DS4 and DS5 to come. Yet the three-door hatch is a rebodied C3 (the new C3 arrives in November), using the same architecture – wheelbase, tracks and basic strut front/torsion beam rear suspension are near identical – together with shared bonnet, headlights, windscreen and front guards.New technology? I don’t think so.Yet the DS3 works well, at least in the 115kW turbocharged, 1.6-litre, six-speed manual form tested. (The 88kW, four-speed auto may be less impressive). This is a terrific engine with so much torque from low revs it’s hard to believe it displaces just 1.6 litres. With a peak 240Nm from 1400-4000rpm, it pulls strongly from just 1200rpm, the power rolling on to beyond the 6100rpm redline. Refined and powerful, it’s mated to an un-Citroen-like, slick-shifting gearbox.John Carey, no lover of French cars, waxed lyrical when he drove the car in France. Too frequently, however, what works in Europe doesn’t translate here. Not so the DS3, which offers a convincing blend of agile handling with a surprisingly compliant ride.It’s not as sharp as a Cooper S, but the ride is more comfortable. And while the steering lacks the involvement of the Mini, there is precision and decent weighting with a degree of isolation that eliminates kickback. Any mild understeer is easily countered by lifting off to subtly change the car’s attitude. Its general composure means the DS3 is a very useable car with a strong sporting character.At the wheel, the DS3 also impresses, despite the basic dashboard coming unchanged from the C3. The rest of the interior is laden with layers of piano-black lacquer and fake suede panels with contrasting stitching and colours. Figure-hugging leather buckets are supportive, but the driving position is slightly awkward and rear legroom limited.How does it look? Apart from the distinctive ‘floating’ roof, it’s nothing like a DS. The DS3’s proportions are muscular, and the choice of contrasting colours allows personalisation.Any connection between the DS3 and DS is superficial; you’ll struggle to find any creative brilliance in the new car. What you will discover is the best-driving Citroen in decades, a terrifically capable hot hatch that rides, steers and performs as well as its competitors.

EIGHT-hundred Newton-Metres. It takes a lot longer to say it than to feel its full-bore rush when you stomp on the turbo-diesel version of Audi’s A8 limo. Audi claims a believable 5.5sec 0-100km/h.I haven’t driven the FSI petrol A8 launched here last year, well ahead of the diesel versions – this one and a 3.0-litre TDI. But to my mind, the (0.2sec slower) FSI will have to be pretty damn good to come anywhere near the total package offered by the 4.2 TDI.Given the poor take-up rate on luxury diesels here, I have to wonder if Audi chose to court early adopters by launching the FSI first, knowing the 4.2 TDI is a superior engine.Either way, having spent the Easter weekend swanning regally round town and urbs in this car, classical music wafting from its 14-speaker Bose Surround Sound system, I’m feeling thoroughly chilled and spoiled.Let’s just say this is a fine conveyance indeed. Even if you have to do the driving yourself. Purring, clatter-free 4.2-litre turbo-diesel V8, eight-speed torque converter auto with sporting paddleshifts. Leather and timber, typically Audi interior with, I’ve just learned from the press release, three switchable ambient lighting modes. Four-zone auto air-con with, I discovered in the office carpark this morning, individual adjustment on the hefty fold-down centre armrest.Damn it. I need to return to the bosom of this car right now. I’m going to march into editor Bill’s office and demand the rest of the day off; for research purposes, you understand. There are ambient lighting modes to be explored. More driving to be done. And nuances in Beethoven’s Sixth to be savoured.Honest.

Accelerating hard, the 2.0-litre TwinPower Turbo makes a familiar noise. “Sounds like a Honda, doesn’t it?” From the passenger seat, my co-driver voices his agreement. But we’re driving an X1 xDrive 28i, the first model from BMW to be equipped with its new-gen four-cylinder turbo engine. Despite the hard-edged and mechanically cultured soundtrack of a pedigree four, the engine otherwise drives mostly like a six…Mostly, because the turbo four actually has more bottom-end lunge than the 3.0-litre atmo six it replaces. The TwinPower Turbo’s torque maximum, a six-like 350Nm, is developed at just 1250rpm. So even though the 2.0-litre turbo’s max power figure of 180kW is 10kW less than the 3.0-litre’s 190kW, it’s the four that accelerates harder. BMW’s 0-100km/h claim for the six-speed manual version of the new X1 xDrive 28i driven here is 6.1sec, more than 0.5sec quicker than the 3.0-litre six. A fairer comparison is auto to auto, as the six was only ever offered in the X1 in this form. With its eight-speed auto, the TwinPower Turbo is 0.3sec quicker to 100km/h than the old six-plus-six-speed combination.It feels eager on the road, too. A manual transmission tends to amplify any sensation of turbo lag, but the six-speed manual X1 was ever willing to please. No delay could be felt, even at low speed and small throttle openings. Floor the accelerator on a section of unrestricted autobahn, and the turbo four will easily punch the aerodynamically unsubtle X1 to north of 200km/h.But downsizing is always more about efficiency improvement than performance gain, even at BMW and it’s here the turbo four really shines. Both six-speed manual and eight-speed auto versions of the X1 xDrive 28i achieve the same (Euro) 7.9L/100km result. Even if the real-world improvement isn’t this great, it’s obvious the TwinPower Turbo is going to be measurably more economical than the (9.4l/100km) 28i.That ‘Twin’ let’s be clear, doesn’t mean the engine has two turbos. No, what it has is a single twin-scroll turbo. Routing exhaust gases from each of the engine’s two pairs of cylinders to drive the turbine via separate scrolls delivers optimal responsiveness, says BMW.While this is a new engine, it’s not the best BMW can do. It’s not a member of the new Efficient Dynamics modular engine family. The TwinPower Turbo has Valvetronic (variable valve lift), double Vanos (cam phasing), and precision direct injection, as well as its twin-scroll turbo. But it lacks trademark design features of the new Efficient Dynamics modular engine family, like cam drive being taken from the rear of the crank.Still, it’s a fine engine, the 2.0-litre TwinPower Turbo, just so long as you don’t mind a BMW that sounds like a Honda…

IT’S BEEN almost four years since Godzilla returned, stomped on circa-$150K rivals and clawed at 911 Turbo territory. But times have changed, supercars now boast more kilowatts, and Nissan can’t afford to rest on its laurels.For the MY11 GT-R, there’s just one model, which effectively replaces the previous Premium spec that accounted for 90 percent of sales. At $168,800, it’s up $6K on the old flagship.The engineering improvements are designed to make Godzilla not only harder and faster, but cleaner and more liveable.

The 3.8-litre twin-turbo V6 now produces 390kW (up 33kW) and 612Nm (an extra 24Nm), yet a recalibrated engine control module and modified exhaust system improves the ADR fuel figure by 3.5 percent, to 12L/100km. Revised electronics deliver a harder-hitting launch control system, and a remodelled front bar and rear diffuser assist by dropping GT-R’s aero rating by 0.1Cd to 0.26Cd. Stickier (still 20-inch) Dunlops, increased front castor angle and a lower rear roll centre aim to improve stability and cornering; new lightweight aluminium dampers target improved ride quality.Having been criticised for its high servicing costs, the GT-R now employs new measures to ease wear on components and consumables. There’s a new ‘Save’ mode for the six-speed dual-clutcher, designed to ease pressure on the tranny by reducing engine torque; a scavenger pump has been added to maintain turbocharger oil flow during hard driving (oil temp now runs up to eight degrees cooler at max attack); and a two-wheel-drive mode has been adopted, which disconnects drive to the front wheels below 10km/h to aid manoeuvrability.On track at Phillip Island, the nip-tucked Godzilla proves it’s still a towering monster. It certainly feels quicker. You’ll now gasp an even longer ‘aaarr’ between ‘f’ and ‘k’ as the launch control fires at 4000rpm, the AWD and 255mm front/285mm rears hook up to deliver instant traction, and the transmission snaps through the gears. Nissan claims 0-100km/h in 3.0sec flat, down from 3.5. It feels credible.Once up and charging, this revised GT-R at first feels every one of its 1747kg (up 7kg). Chief Engineer Katzutoshi Mizuno reckons GT-R “doesn’t need to be lighter”. Interestingly, however, he doesn’t rate the 100kg-lighter 911 Turbo as a true GT-R competitor either.So yes, the oriental supercar remains a big beast – not nearly as lithe as its Cayman and M3 price-point rivals – but on a fast circuit like PI, it gels. There’s perhaps no bigger test of a car’s stability, brakes and balance than in the condensed seconds between sweeping turn three and slow-hairpin turn four. The Nissan first piles on pace and remains stable. Its mighty Brembos (the six-pot fronts are up 10mm, to 390mm) quickly wipe off speed for the entry. And, on exit, the GT-R playfully kicks its arse out, even with the track-focused VDC-R left on. After seeming so planted on the road, I was surprised to find how nicely you can groove with Godzilla.Beyond the extra powerrr and superb handling, the revised adaptive damping (in Comfort mode, at least) feels moderately more supple, the unaltered steering remains sharp but not loaded with feel, and, thanks to the low-speed rear-drive-only mode, there’s less crabbing when turning round town.Of course, cashed-up purists will always default to a 911 Turbo, but Godzilla has reaffirmed its place as the accessible cut-price alternative. And against the similarly-priced Cayman and M3? Well, when the GT-R is two seconds quicker to the ton, daylight comes second and third.

MAYBE I was channelling the infamously dismissive John Carey, but the pragmatic side of me wanted to discount the A7 the second my average-height frame brushed the headlining above the rear seat. At 4969mm in overall length and sitting on a 2914mm wheelbase, the A7 (built on a platform shared by upcoming A6 and A8) is Commodore-big. Yet its coupe-like profile compromises rear-seat headroom. And Audi’s insistence that A5 and A7 Sportback models have only four seats further pushes the Carey pragmatometer into the red.However, Audi insists that such real-world concerns are not shared by potential A7 buyers. In fact, the company even claims that engine choice is not high on the priority list of the 50-something empty-nester who dominates the A7’s target audience.I assume you do care, so for the record the A7 is offered at launch with either a 220kW/440Nm supercharged 3.0-litre petrol V6, or 180kW/500Nm 3.0-litre turbo-diesel V6. A 2.8-litre petrol V6 will arrive later this year. Australia is unlikely to get the smaller diesel that’s offered in Europe as it’s mated to an older-style CVT, while all other A7s come with seven-speed dual-clutch gearboxes.The launch engines are familiar from their roles (albeit in a variety of tunes) in Audis as diverse as A5/S5 to the gargantuan Q7. Both engines work well; the choice will come down to whether you prize the convenience of range and effortless torque (diesel) over sharp throttle response and crackling supercharged V6 engine note (petrol). Outright fuel consumption – 10.8L/100km in the petrol plays just 5.9L/100km in the TDI – is less of a concern to those who can afford to pay $142,750 (diesel) or $147,800 (petrol).The rest of the drive experience will be familiar to anyone who’s spent time in an Audi sedan from the A4-A8 ranges. The steering is quick but not imbued with feel, the ride is generally compliant, yet has the annoying ability to occasionally crash through over seemingly minor imperfections. If that sounds dismissive, it’s not meant to be. The A7 is a perfectly fine drive and will appeal to those who value style over ultimate practicality yet aren’t ready to make the leap to a two-door coupe.Audi’s targets for A7 are modest, perhaps conservative. First year goal is just 150-200 units split about evenly across petrol and diesel. And even then, it’s more concerned with growing the A6, A7 and A8 segment than championing any one model. No point introducing a niche player only to cannibalise another model.

LIKE A weary Goldilocks in search of a bed, a parent’s pursuit of the perfect family car is a quest for that ‘just right’ moment, when you open the door, like what you see, picture the billy lids safe and happy in the back seat and realise that this is the one.

Audi’s Q5 has indeed been exactly that for many parents around the world and it leads the mid-size (B segment) premium SUV field.

However, Range Rover’s Evoque is closing in fast, with a sales trajectory heading due north, so the Q5’s first major update is timely.

White-hot competition across the entire market today means that not even a blue-chip German brand is silly enough to stiff buyers with a hefty price hike, so the Q5 2.0-litre TFSI, now with direct and indirect injection (to achieve Euro6 compliance) and 165kW/350Nm, stays at $62,900.

The 130kW/380Nm, 2.0-litre TDI also holds its $62,200 2012 pricepoint. The 3.0-litre V6 TDI, at $75,500, produces 180kW and a mighty 580Nm. The previous naturally aspirated 3.2-litre petrol V6 makes way for the sparkling 200kW/400Nm 3.0-litre supercharged TFSI, priced at $74,100.

All four engines are refined, fuel-efficient and tractable, but I had forgotten how wonderfully responsive a supercharged engine can be when compared with its turbocharged counterpart. The Q5 V6 3.0 TFSI leaps into its work at the lightest touch of the pedal and is now the gun drive in this class.

Petrol engines are matched with an eight-speed Tiptronic; diesels a seven-speed S-tronic. Quattro is standard, obviously, and all models have automatic stop-start.

Audi has made Dynamic Drive standard on what was already a tight, tidy handling package. It alters engine/transmission and/or electromechanical power steering (EPS) settings across Efficiency, Comfort, Auto, Dynamic and Individual modes.

More compliant springs soften the ride a little, while firmer dampers improve body control. Eighteen-inch wheels are now standard. Previously, you may have felt the adaptive damper option worthwhile; now it’s a questionable spend.

So, the Q5 drive is basically all good.

Put your Mum or Dad hat on, though, and you’re looking at a whole new set of priorities. The Q5 delivers here, too. A power tailgate is standard. Bliss. Back seats have side and curtain airbags (rivals have only curtains), they’re adjustable and you can flip ’em and fold ’em in any 40/20/40 arrangement you choose.

A fairytale ending to the Q5 story is slightly skewered by the bizarre omission of a camera on 2.0-litre models.

Otherwise, though, a Q5 family should live happily ever after.

Who do you think you are, Infiniti?

That’s a reasonable enough question, seeing as the ‘new’ G37 (born 2007, actually) might be deemed an upstart against its pedigree (if equally aged) BMW 3 Series, Audi A5 and Mercedes C-Class opponents.

Root around the Infiniti family tree beyond the Kardashian SUVs and sultry sedans, however, and you’ll find some Princely ancestors with evocative names like Skyline, Laurel, and Gloria. Even GTR is in there.

We’re talking half a century’s worth of sporting heritage, then, and the equal to many Euro brands. But, for every blueblood, there’s a Bluebird … or in this case, the G37 Convertible.

Credit where it’s due first, though. For a folding hardtop, this is one handsomely proportioned drop-top, whether the turret is erect with side windows down for that classic pillarless panorama, or tucked away neatly inside the pert derriere.

However, the cabin is less convincing. Though lovingly crafted and oozing standard kit (navigation, and Bose audio are included), the dashboard screams Nissan Murano and quakes like Scooby Doo at the mere suggestion of a road bump. Not classy.

Amid lashings of leather and slush-moulded surfaces is too much cheapo plastic. And is that a foot-operated park brake borrowed from a Datsun Cedric we see?

The ride-ruining 19-inch wheels contribute to the fact that the Convertible’s steering shimmies and the rack kicks back arbitrarily, while the dawdling roof requires an infinity (okay, 25sec) to fold away, rendering the boot useless.

And we mean useless. Ironically for a drop-top, there’s barely enough room for an umbrella, let alone a dirty weekend away’s worth of underwear. You may need to go topless in this convertible…

Collectively these foibles overshadow an otherwise quiet and refined four-seater grand tourer. Sorry, Infiniti. Audi and BMW do a dandier decapitation job.

But the Coupe – at about 175kg lighter – adheres to its bona fide Skyline sports pedigree . It’s significantly sprightlier off-the-line than the sweet and sonorous but subdued acceleration of the drop-top, particularly off the line.

In both cars, a 235kW/360Nm VQ37 V6 howler drives the rear wheels via a deft seven-speed auto, but the limber Coupe cracks on with far greater urge, offering stronger and more stirring responses throughout the considerable rev range – and without the scuttle shake.

Better still is the closed car’s poise and finesse. In the base GT, on 18-inch alloys and with none of the rear-wheel steering tech from the convertible to complicate or flummox, the Infiniti shrink-wraps around the keen driver, bolstered by a sharp (if slightly muted) helm, for engagingly linear handling that braces the bitumen, without the quivery Convertible’s punishing ride characteristics.

Clearly, then, the G37 Coupe clicks with its Infiniti/Nissan/Datsun/Prince genealogy far more convincingly than the dapper but deficient Convertible.

So if you long for a luxury sports coupe with proper bloodlines, the Infiniti’s run thicker than you might think.

We’ve all felt it.

That ball-clenching, stomach-churning moment of turning into a corner too fast, of feeling the tyres slip, the horror of knowing you’re about to crash.

It’s not pretty, and right now, that’s what Wheels is experiencing in the new Mini Paceman.

We’re on the rain-soaked roads above Brisbane for the Paceman’s Australian launch and happily, the surrounding rainforest is so covered with mist, we can’t see what we’re about to hit.

It’s a small consolation, but then… nothing.

The car sails around the corner, the exhaust gives a satisfied fart and before we know it, we’re belting into the next sodden bend.

Marvellous.

Minis are well known for their ‘go kart’ handling and it seems the Paceman – the seventh variant in the growing Mini family – is no exception.

Or it is?

Push the Paceman hard and a few worrying flaws begin to emerge.

With a kerb weight 335kg heavier than a base Cooper, the Paceman simply can’t match the surefootedness or agility of its smaller sibling.

So why buy one?

With a premium price starting at $35,900 for the base Paceman, and $44,100 for the Cooper S, plus the fact it offers neither the handling prowess nor the usability of other, cheaper, Minis, that’s a question we’re still trying to answer.

At its core, the Paceman is essentially a two-door Countryman. It’s built on the same compact SUV platform, but boasts sportier styling and sports-tuned suspension.

Think of it as the Countryman’s athletic cousin – a four-seat, two-door SUV that can’t go off-road.

There’s nothing new under the bonnet either. Both cars get Mini’s familiar 1.6-litre petrol, with the base Paceman offering 90kW and 160Nm. It’s a frustratingly small amount of power, with even city driving exposing a lack grunt.

The addition of a twin-scroll turbo in the 135kW/240Nm Cooper S makes it the pick of the range, yet even it doesn’t feel as rapid as you’d expect – 0-100km/h is achieved in 7.5 seconds for the Cooper S (10.4 seconds for the base Paceman).

Both cars use a six-speed manual as standard, with a 6-speed automatic a $2350 option – one that Mini says 70 percent of buyers will choose.

But don’t think the Paceman is a bad car.

Its saving grace is the way it drives. Fast, well-weighted steering makes it plenty of fun through the bends, while a well-sorted chassis ensures the handling is sticky and predictable.

The sports suspension is also a nice compromise, providing a firm but compliant ride that irons out all but the biggest bumps.

Plus Mini says buying the Paceman is not a rational choice, but one based on emotion.

And with the company hoping to move 200 Pacemans this year, at a premium price that pits it against the VW Golf R, the Opel OPC and the razor-sharp Renault Megane RS265 Cup, we can see why.

Does anyone else out there think wagons are pretty sexy looking?

Well, not all wagons.

There wouldn’t be too many teenagers pinning VT Commodore posters on their walls (do kids still do that ?).

But check out the new station wagon version of the Cruze and suddenly Holden’s small car starts looking pretty good; much sleeker and better resolved than the blocky sedan or sadly truncated hatch.

A substantial 157mm longer than the hatch and 60mm longer than the sedan, the Sportwagon’s luggage space climbs to 500 litres with the rear seat in place (445 litres sedan and 413 litres hatch). Split-fold the 60:40 rear seat and that grows to 1478 litres.

The Sportwagon comes in two specifications – CD and CDX. The former is available with both the 1.8-litre petrol four-cylinder ($25,790) and 2.0-litre turbo-diesel ($29,790). The CDX is only available with the 1.8 ($29,040).

The sole transmission choice is a six-speed auto. The obvious missing ingredient here is the 1.4-litre turbo-petrol engine, which is offered with the locally built sedan and hatch. But the Sportwagon hails from Korea, and plugging that engine into the small Australian production run wasn’t possible.

So you pay the premium for the 120kW/360Nm diesel, or put up with the 104kW/176Nm 1.8, which, in a brief two-up minimal-luggage drive, felt a bit sluggish.

Despite the longer body and a little more kerb weight, the wheelbase is the same as the sedan and hatch, so the handling and ride combination remains familiarly competent, inspiring neither antipathy or affection.

Hey, to my eyes, though, at least it looks good…