On Wheels by Brooks Peterson

Saturday, August 19, 2000

CL500 blends opulence, top performance

Last week, you recall, we were fortunate enough to get acquainted with the Mercedes-Benz ML 55, the world's first hot-rod sport-blending all-wheel-drive capability utility. An estimable vehicle it was, in the gumbo with the ability to blow off more than a few stoplight poseurs.
   However . . . when I think about the vehicles that wear the three-pointed star, sport utes aren't the first thing that leap into my fevered consciousness. Nossir: To me, the quintessential bearers of that storied legacy are big, arrogant sedans and all-conquering coupes - some of them overtly sporty, others more oriented toward touring in the grand style.
   Under the latter heading, file the totally bodacious CL500 coupe, the latest demonstration of DaimlerChrysler's ability to blend opulence, restraint and high performance into a package capable of inspiring awe in onlookers and bliss in those fortunate to be whisked through the landscape within it.
   In addition to all its obvious attributes, the CL500 has about it a slight air of mystery. Specifically, where does it fit into the M-B cosmos? It shares some styling cues with the big S-Series panzers - notably the headlights - and it's certainly a big husky customer, but as nearly as I can figure out from the literature it's in a class of its own: a limited-edition V-8 showpiece. (It may be joined in the near future, or perhaps already has been joined, by an even more impressive V-12 version).

Mercedes-Benz CL500 Four-passenger rear-drive coupe Base price: $85,500 Price as tested: $89,695 Drivetrain: Single-overhead-cam 24-valve fuel-injected 5-liter V-8, 302 hp; five-speed automatic-overdrive transmission Brakes: Front and rear discs, power-assisted, with standard anti-lock (ABS) EPA mileage: 16 city/23 highway Web site: www.daimlerchrysler.com

   The sounds of silence
   What's it like wheeling this much car (and, yes, this much money)? Glad you asked. To say the least, the car offers its rewards: the kind of smoothness, silence (double-paned window glass, people) and understated opulence that you're entitled to expect for your 89-plus grand. "Splendid," an adjective that has pretty much dropped off the scope in this philistine age of ours, about sums it up.
   But of course splendor brings with it responsibilities. Among these, perhaps the most daunting challenge is simply coming to terms with all the amenities Stuttgart has crammed into this vehicle. You've got your satellite navigation system, your Active Body Control (ABC - get it?), your super-sophisticated (read: indecipherable) stereo system . . .
   Oh, and let's talk about seats. Heated seats are on the menu, of course - but they've become so passe, don't you think? So nouveau. Thus, our CL500 also features (optional) ventilated seats with little fans to circulate air within the cushion and seat back. They are very unobtrusive in operation. In fact, I couldn't really tell they were on. Guess that's the peasant in me.
   Enter the rear in front
   Now, like any other coupe, the CL500 has certain . . . limitations. (Yes: An $89,000 car can have limitations. I looked it up.) Chiefly, two doors: While there's decent room in back, a certain amount of squirming is required to get your passengers back there. And matters are not helped by (a.) the glacial pace at which the power mechanism moves the front seats forward, and (b.) the fact that the doors don't really open all that wide - only about 45 degrees, if that much. Perhaps there is a good reason for this, but if so, it eludes me.
   Once everyone's in, however, things take on a distinctly rosy aspect. The fit and finish are superb, of course. The pleasant surprise is that this big Mercedes is significantly more - how you say? - welcoming than some of its predecessors. Yeah: That's the ticket.
   Warming up to the car
   Other high-buck Mercs I've driven have commanded respect, even a measure of awe - but I found it a little difficult to warm up to them. The seats, while beautifully crafted, were so granitic and unyielding as to make your average park bench feel like a BarcaLounger. And the controls were dizzyingly confusing.
   There's still room for improvement on all those switches and dials, but the new from the seating front is distinctly upbeat. You'll never mistake these things for throw pillows, but there's at least a modicum of give in them.
   Other quibbles tend to evaporate as soon as you hoist anchor and direct the CL500 out on to a road worthy of it. Can acceleration be robust and effortless at the same time? Here's the living proof. The 302-horsepower 5-liter V-8 is never so gauche as to announce its presence by mechanical commotion; rather, turbine-like, it whisks you up to warp speed almost before you (or at least your passengers) can grasp what's happening.
   Precision and handling
   The five-speed automatic transmission manages all those horses with the same kind of velvety precision. You have the option of upshifting and downshifting on your own if you want to - but chances are you won't. You're a person of substance: You have weightier issues on your mind.
   Much the same applies to the handling: Thanks to that high-tech active suspension, body roll is minimized even as ride quality is preserved. I can't pretend to comprehend how it all comes together - has to do with cutting-edge electronics and ultra-responsive hydraulic servos for each wheel - but it's a revelation. If at this late date there is anyone out there who still thinks you can't blend nimble, predictable handling with superb ride quality, I refer him/her to the CL500.
   There is really nothing in the driving experience that could be characterized as irksome - save, perhaps, for the knowledge of just how much you laid out for this beauty. Oh, and the virtual certainty that some bozo in a '70s Caprice Classic will eventually wheel in beside you and administer the inevitable parking-lot ding.
   Hey: You want to play, you've got to pay. And I can tell by the three-pointed stars in your eyes that you're a player.
  
  

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