It's official: Acura is off its meds. Long the staid salaryman of the Japanese luxury-car scene, its once-restrained UltraHondas used to bow deferentially before the BMWs, Lexuses, and Mercedes-Benzes that outranked them. Well, not any more. The brand has just downed a fifth of Suntory, tied its tie around its head "Karate Kid"–style, and pressed itself forcefully up against a schoolgirl on the bullet train. For proof, check the just-released TSX, and especially this redesigned 2009 TL.
With its stainless-steel cowcatcher grille, angular backside, and huge waves of sheetmetal breaking over its front wheels, the TL looks so crazy that you half expect its roof to be covered in tin foil. The manic quality that characterizes the car's styling is everywhere else you look, too: Engineering and interior content seems crammed in with a paddle.
The TL comes in two strains — regular TL and TL SH-AWD. The latter replaces the TL Type-S yet cunningly leaves headroom in the line-up for another model with that designation. Their shared envelope, with 47.6 percent high-strength steel and a flat underbody, offers more passenger volume than anything in its class, even the Infiniti G35: It's 6.2 inches longer, 1.8 inches wider, and 0.5 inches taller than the outgoing model. From there on out, though, the two new TLs diverge dramatically.
The standard TL is powered by a 3.5-liter (up from 3.2) V-6 good for 280 hp and 254 lb-ft of torque, which flows to the front wheels via a five-speed paddle-shifting automatic. This engine breathes through a dual-stage magnesium induction tract connected to an intake-valve-only VTEC head. It also gets a higher, 11.2:1 compression ratio, a cold-air intake system, and exhaust manifolds cast directly into the cylinder heads. Acura claims an EPA rating of 18 city/26 highway, numbers identical to the outgoing 3.2's.
The SH-AWD model is named for Honda's Super Handling All-Wheel Drive system, which apportions torque not only front to rear but also to the right and left sides of the rear axle. The system has two main components: a torque-transfer unit bolted directly to the front-mounted transaxle, and a rear drive gear that carries two electromagnetic clutch packs like saddlebags. The clutches can operate in sync to alter front/rear torque split (from 90/10 to 30/70 front/rear) or they can work independently to send as much as 100 percent of the available rear-axle torque to one wheel. The cool part about this system, which is similar to the one used in the RDX, MDX, and BMW's X6, is that in corners it rotates the outer rear wheel faster than the front axle to sharpen turn-in, reduce understeer, and improve grip by balancing cornering forces.
Powering the SH-AWD model (we'll be calling it the shawd from here on out, since our hyphen key's about to crack off) is a 3.7-liter version of the SOHC V-6, making 305 hp and 273 lb-ft of torque while returning 17/25 mpg. If you're keeping track, that gives it best-in-class power relative to fuel economy. This engine gets cast-in, high-silicon cylinder liners and a high-flow, four-tipped exhaust system. Its VTEC head uses the same intake-valve control mechanism as the 3.5, but also applies it to the outflow side. Both exhaust valves follow a single low-lift, short-duration cam profile at low revs. As the engine spins faster, pressurized oil activates a small piston that locks the exhaust-valve rocker to a corresponding high-speed rocker arm, one that follows a high-lift, long-duration cam lobe. In operation, it looks like a three-legged crab sweatin' to the oldies.
The shawd also gets chassis refinements over and above the TL. Both versions ride on the same double-wishbone front/multilink rear suspension — the rear is borrowed from the TSX; the front has been evolved from the previous car to quell brake dive, add roll stiffness, and reduce lift, thereby minimizing the torque steer that dislocated so many previous TL owners' shoulders. The set-up comprises coil springs, anti-roll bars, a front shock-tower bar, and nitrogen-charged blow-off dampers. These vary their damping according to the size of the bump, applying maximum forces to large inputs but dialing down for small ones, helping to filter out road imperfections. The shawd, predictably, gets higher spring and damper rates and a suspension system tuned for its 18-inch wheels, but its brakes are the same size as in the base TL — dual-piston calipers clamping 12.6-inch front and single-pistons grabbing 13.0-inch rear rotors. It does, however, get brake-cooling ducts in the front fascia and a bigger vacuum booster. It also adds hill-start assist to prevent rollback on inclines.
And don't worry: the slackers at Acura haven't neglected the interior. Per customer request, the new TL has more trunk, glovebox, and rear leg- and shoulder room than the outgoing model. The seats in both TLs are supportive (especially the aggressively bolstered fronts in the shawd) and the ergonomics are excellent — pedal, wheel, door, and seat relationships are nicely realized, with Acura's traditionally tight fits throughout. A raft of audio options, including Bluetooth, XM, Dolby ProLogic II, and a USB port, are standard. If you opt for the so-called Technology package, you get what is perhaps the most comprehensive suite of features this side of Ford's Sync. In addition to better leather and smart keyless start (if two of the car's keyholders are approaching the car, proximity sensors in each one's fob tells the car who will be the driver and who will be the passenger, and sets the controls and seats accordingly), the Technology package offers voice-recognition nav with real-time traffic and Doppler-style weather maps. There is also the great Elliot Scheiner–designed "ELS" Panasonic audio with 440-watts, 10 speakers, and 12.7-gig hard drive; it plays any format you can think of, from DVD-Audio to Bluetooth audio. Everything's displayed on an 8-inch high-res LCD screen.
We drove both versions of the car on the rolling two-lanes of central Connecticut. The standard TL reasserts itself as the premier vehicular choice of freshly minted accountants, associate attorneys, and budding dermatologists. It's a very nice, very low-stress machine. The car's engine revs freely, with a little VTEC kick before the power peak at 6000 rpm, and shifts are clean. The brakes are strong and so is the rest of the chassis — it offers fine body control and bump absorption and rebounds progressively. Even the electronic power steering is decent, with a tune far superior to past EPS-equipped Hondas, even if there's a bit of artificiality off center. Thanks to the new front suspension geometry, the base TL exhibits almost no torque steer at moderate launches, only a little, predictable mid-corner tugging under power. In sum, the base TL is a great young professional's car that will inspire admiration, if not a good old-fashioned keying, in the company parking lot.
The shawd, on the other hand, functions less as a totem of upward mobility and social responsibility than as a sub-rosa driver's car. It has the flintiness, agility, and precision to place it in serious contention with rear-drive cars such as the G35, C-class, and 3-series.
Its drive system provides much of the drama: The 3.7-liter revs through a kaleidoscope of tonality, colors, and moods, with subtlety in the cam phasing that's missing from the intake-only VTEC head. You can hear it constantly adjusting, rising and falling, and you feel its insistence at your back. The driveline puts it power down quickly, too. Charging through Connecticut's crowned country roads, the car keeps urging us to feed in more throttle, sending reassuring signals through the chairs and steering that its contact patches are stable, the set of its body is resolute. The five-speed manumatic cracks off shifts quickly, and manages the torque flow brilliantly — there is also a manual coming for the 3.7 in 2010. Despite the recoil inherent in such an arrangement, we'd welcome it. For although this car is very engaging, it almost feels as if the shawd is doing much of the work itself: The all-wheel-drive system acts as a sort of supplemental steering box, accelerating that outside rear wheel so that the car is very easy to place and changes direction with little effort. A manual gearbox would make drivers a bit more involved in the corner set-up phase. The steering itself is as sharp and firm as old English cheddar. Or perhaps a fine Mexican bathtub manchego.
All this for a price ranging from just $34,000 for a base TL to $42,000 for a shawd with the Technology package. The value equation here is hard to knock. You might not love Acura's new design direction — and from the wailing and rending of clothes we heard in the Car Lounge when the TSX was revealed, most of you don't — but those arguments are becoming less significant in an era when almost everything on the road commits some sort of low-level visual atrocity. For as much as car enthusiasts bitch about the cow-belly of a given new BMW or the clunkiness of the Chrysler 300, there is something about, well, let's call it challenging styling that makes your average car buyer lose all muscular and cognitive control. Name the least handsome cars on the road — Focus, 7-series, whatever — then check their sales figures. Then enter a depression from which no amount of alcohol can deliver you. Who can blame Acura for wanting a piece of that skanky action?
