BMW 5-Series: The Mona Lisa, With Zits

Author's Rating:

Pros: Unparalleled handling precision, creamy torque, superb ride, available manual transmission.

Cons: Ergonomically challenged secondary controls, slushy automatic transmission, not cheap.

The Bottom Line: 
Still the runaway class leader for people who like to drive. Yes, there’s electronic overkill. Yes, iDrive stinks. But in the end, the plusses far outweigh the minuses.

Author's Review
Background

Judging by the scathing professional reviews it’s received, you might think that BMW’s radically redesigned 5-Series has been a catastrophic flop. “You can’t miss the new 5-Series,” began Car & Driver’s January 2004 review, alluding to its controversial exterior styling. “We just wish we didn’t miss the old one so much.” Ouch.

Those are harsh words for a mag traditionally accused of pocketing BMW bribe money, but in fact, the 5-Series hasn’t flopped. Far from it. Sales spiked immediately after the '04 redesign, and have increased steadily ever since. In fact, the 5 now accounts for 25% of all sales in the midsize luxury sedan segment.

So, who’s right about this car? Satisfied consumers, or disgruntled pros? To find out, I attended a BMW ride-and-drive event and sampled the entire 5-Series lineup.


Under the Hood

The 5-Series is available in three strengths: the 525i, with a 215-horsepower inline Six, the 530i, with a 255-horsepower version of the same engine, and the 550i, with a potent 360-horse V8.

If you like your sports sedans heavy on the “sport,” you can discount the first of these straight off. The 525i’s engine is a lovely piece, revving with the same creamy smoothness as any BMW Six. But 185 lb/ft of torque, however well dispensed, isn’t enough to make a 3,500 lb sedan feel fast. Unless your performance demands are low, leave this one to the status-seekers.

With most rivals boasting engines in the 275-to-300 hp range, the 530i may also seem short of power, at least on paper. In person, though, I find this car to be the most appealing of the 5-Series lineup. Aside from some sluggish transmission responses—more on those later—the 530i provides satisfying punch at any speed, answering the throttle with a smooth, rich swell of torque. With one’s baser demands satisfied, it’s also easier to appreciate this Six’s polished, brassy soundtrack.

The 550i is a charmer, too, but its brawny V8 changes the 5-Series’ basic character. With 360 lb/ft of torque up front, and a deep, dense exhaust note out back, the 5 no longer feels like a thinking enthusiasts’ sedan—instead, it’s a bit of a power junkie. Full-throttle acceleration feels almost violent after the 530i, with thrust (and 0-60 times) to rival Nissan’s 350Z. Refinement remains top-notch, but where the Six inspires controlled smiles, the V8 is both thrilling and frightening to open up on public roads.

The 550i might frighten your gas card, too. The EPA estimates 16/23 MPG for manually-shifted 550is—poor enough to warrant a $1,300 Gas Guzzler tax—and 17/25 MPG for automatic models. Too immoderate? That’s where the Sixes come in. The 530i, while still quick enough for the occasional adrenaline rush, returns a Camry-like 20/27 MPG with the automatic, or 19/28 MPG with manual. The 525i is thriftier still.


Changing Gears

So, what of those aforementioned transmission issues? Well, if you’re a sport-minded driver, but prefer to let your car do the shifting, you’ll likely be disappointed with the feel of the 5’s six-speed automatic. At low speeds, it behaves as if on Valium, dragging slothfully off the line and slurring through its upshifts. This must be the preference of most buyers, since nearly every rival slushbox performs similarly. But if the automatic in my passe Volvo wagon swaps gears firmly and immediately, shouldn’t the one in “The Ultimate Driving Machine?”

As for the 5’s six-speed manual transmission, it’s typical of the BMW breed. The shifter finds its gates with an oily, rubbery smoothness, and the clutch, though well-weighted, feels somewhat wooden underfoot. But one can only snivel so much about the 5’s stick, since very few rivals take their “sport” mission seriously enough to offer one.


Twists and Turns

Steering and handling two more areas where the 5 makes its competitors feel like your father’s Oldsmobile. In short, unless you’re a repeat BMW customer, it’s unlikely that you’ve ever driven a car that makes winding roads seem so eerily effortless. Just scan the corner, ease the wheel off-center, and your work is done. In one fluid motion, the 5 hunkers down, takes a set, and tracks your intended line as if by laser.

Still, while the 5-Series’ chassis tuning is beyond reproach, no 5 can match the telepathic steering response of BMW’s smaller 3-Series. Skip the Sport Package, and the 5’s helm feels more mild than meaty, with a slight soft spot around the straight-ahead. Guidance feels firmer and crisper in Sport spec, but the wheelrim remains a tad numb. And if you spring for the optional Active Steering, which quickens the ratio at lower speeds, you’ll find that it has an unnatural gain in shallow curves. We’re still talking about the best steering in this class, mind you, but with a chassis as excellent as the 5’s, you begin pining for perfection.

Speaking of perfection, the 5’s close approximation of it comes at a price: in hard driving, you miss out on the wild-eyed, tongue-out-the-window thrills that you sometimes get from sloppier-handling cars. In this sense, BMWs are almost too good at their job: “Decreasing-radius offramp? Potholes? 100 km/h? Ja, done. Wake me when we reach autobahn, okay?”

Of course, the 5-Series isn’t a sports car, and it does reach its ultimate limits within sight of competing sedans’. But besides the fact that said limits are quite high, the 5 makes exploring them a thoughtless exercise. The chassis’ intuitive balance makes it easy to drive at understeer’s edge, while the smoothly-damped body motions amount to mere background noise.


Easy Rider?

With enough suspension starch and oversized contact patches, any luxury car can be made to grip the road as well as the 5-Series—I’m looking at you, Infiniti M45. What makes the 5-Series’ poise so remarkable, though, is that it’s married to one of the most comfortable rides in its class.

Depending on your tastes, it may even be the most comfortable. If you, like me, enjoy the sensations of driving—the grain of the pavement, the hiss of the tires, the rhythmic motions of the suspension—you’ll love the way the 5-Series seems to digitally remaster these and present them at a whisper’s volume.

On the other hand, if the song of the open road makes you jab for a “mute” button, you may be happier with the near-total sensory deprivation of Lexus’ GS. But even that car, with its negligible noise levels and glassy smooth-road ride, can’t shrug off severe bumps with the utter nonchalance of the BMW. Its structure doesn’t feel as resolutely solid, either.


Inside Story

For all of the automotive press’ stewing and squabbling over the 5-Series’ interior, it doesn’t seem all that controversial when you slide behind the wheel yourself. The look is avant-garde, certainly, with a sweeping, double-hooded dash blending into edgy, angular door panels. The high beltline and pebbly surface textures communicate a typical German severity, too. But the driving position is effortlessly natural, and fit and finish are superb. So what’s the big deal?

All becomes clear as you get underway. Can’t find the readouts for the audio, climate, or nav systems? That’s because they’re all contained in a center LCD screen, which defaults to a legal warning at startup. You must “Accept” to be granted access to other functions. Flick the turn signal to change lanes, and oddly, the stalk doesn’t “take”—a computer decides when the blinking will stop, so the lever returns immediately to the neutral position. Want to change radio settings, or add a new nav destination? Then get ready to grapple with iDrive, a mouse-like interface on the center console, one that plunges you into a confounding sea of menus.

Fortunately, BMW had the sense to add redundant controls for cabin temperature, fan speed, radio volume, and seek/track adjustments. Gauges and other secondary controls, meanwhile, are refreshingly conventional.

The 5’s interior is also difficult to criticize when it comes to space and comfort. Up front, the driver enjoys a surplus of head- and legroom, feeling just cocooned enough to maintain the sporting mood. The 5’s front seats aren’t as wide or restful as a Volvo’s, but they’re well-bolstered, highly adjustable, and supportive enough on the straights. If only the unyielding center armrest treated elbows as well as the soft, cushioned leather on the door.

Rear passengers will find the 5’s accommodations on par with the average family car. The seat cushion is comfortable and well-shaped, but a bit too low to the floor for optimum thigh support. Two adults will find space generous, but the drivetrain tunnel leaves little space for a center rider’s legs.


Fill ‘Er Up

While luxury sedans generally aren’t bought for their practical value, the 5-Series doesn’t embarrass itself in this regard. With a trunk volume of 14.0 cubic feet, the 5’s cargo capacity is identical to a Honda Accord’s, and compares well with the Cadillac STS’ (13.8), the Lexus GS’ (12.7), and the Mercedes E-Class’ (15.9). A split-folding rear seat, however, will cost you an absurd $475.

In-cabin storage is less plentiful, especially if you bring coffee on your commute: the two cupholders that serve the front cabin are flimsy, shallow, dash-mounted affairs. The center armrest cubby, too, seems conspicuously skimpy.



In Sum

Although the 5-Series’ ergonomic gaffes detract from its basic goodness, it would take a lot more than iDrive to spoil my enjoyment of this sedan. While many rivals do an admirable job of mimicking the moves of a driver’s car, the 5-Series actually is one, delivering equal measures of sport and luxury.

So, why isn’t it winning more comparison tests? My guess is that automotive journalists are judging the 5 not against its rivals, but against more ethereal notions of what a 5-Series “should be.” Wild styling, gratuitous gadgetry, and electronic intervention don’t fit the mold, so the 5 is ranked behind rivals that create less cognitive dissonance.

But then, automotive writers live in something of a bubble, one where cars become characters with decades-long life stories. For them, the 5-Series didn’t just change—it let them down. Their reaction to the 5’s transformation is not unlike the public’s reaction to Marlon Brando gaining weight, or to Tom Cruise losing his mind.

Without those attachments, it’s easy to see that the 5 continues to set the pace for its class. If you’re in the market for a luxury car, and the emphasis is on driving, this is the one you’ll most likely take home.