1996 Mercedes-Benz E320 Is Supremely Inoffensive

From the December 1995 issue of Car and Driver.

Not only was Mercedes-Benz’s pre­vious E-class the company’s best­selling line, but it was arguably one of the most versatile models on the road, playing roles as disparate as diesel taxicab on the one hand, and 5.0-liter V-8 super­sedan on the other. Despite its 10-year longevity, that E-class car (it was code­named W124) remained an enviable example of the carbuilder’s art and was, until recently, the benchmark for other car­makers in areas such as interior quietness and body-shell rigidity.

It was a tough act to follow, but the new E-class car (the W210, for those tracking codenames) brings a few new tricks to the party. It’s roomier than the old car, for one thing, providing almost two inches more kneeroom and 1.4 inches more shoulder room in the rear. This helps alleviate the space shortcomings noted when comparing the E-class cars with the Lexus LS400—a comparison that their prices often prompted.

The front seats are steel-sprung units similar to the seats in the S-class cars. Although they’re not bolstered to the max, their robust construction provides good lat­eral bracing while cornering and excellent support on long trips. Three-position memory is available on both front seats (the driver-side memory also controls the mirrors). There’s plenty of storage space, with a reasonable glovebox, a central storage compartment that can house both a car phone and a supply of CD jewel boxes, and door pockets. Plus, to the cer­tain disgust of European purists, there are cupholders front and rear. The one for the driver pops up and swings out, and it ratchets to fit various cup sizes like some kind of kinky handcuff. Mercedes is now Germany’s leader in cupholder zoot.

The new E320 is a large step ahead of its predecessor in noise reduction and general levels of refinement. The engine was so quiet in our E320 test car that the loudest sound we heard during hard accel­eration was a brief yowl of gear whine in first gear. As the engine speed rises, you hear a melodious six-cylinder snarl way off in the distance, but it’s quiet enough that you can drive all day without fatigue, and the noises you do hear are appropri­ately pedigreed.

The effect of a full-throttle lunge is quite precipitous, the car accelerating forward with several discrete—and unusual—surges of power as the variable inlet-valve timing and variable-length intake runners juggle settings to optimize engine torque. It feels a little like sequen­tial turbocharging when, at certain engine speeds, the car demonstrates enhanced per­formance. The effect is particularly notice­able in the lower two gears.

The slightly odd power delivery not­withstanding, the E320 offers brisk accel­eration and unexpectedly bright throttle response for a 3.2-liter six hauling almost 3600 pounds. The sprint from standstill to 60 mph requires only 7.4 seconds, and the standing quarter-mile goes by in 15.8 sec­onds at 90 mph. This is respectable per­formance for a car loaded with luxury and safety extras (like front-seat side-impact airbags), and it calls attention to the fact that it weighs about the same as the pre­ceding car despite the increases in size.

True, the throttle tips in with the same languid sense you get from all Mercedes cars these days. But once on the move, the car feels much more lively, squirting into gaps in traffic with more immediacy than you might expect from a modestly endowed big car. A ride in the E320 defi­nitely whets the appetite for a taste of the V-8-powered E420. But you shouldn’t assume that the six-cylinder car is in any way underpowered. Out on the road, it cruises so effortlessly that speeds well above the national speed limit seem unac­ceptably dreary, and a floored throttle pro­duces quick kickdowns and confident passes.

Although the four-speed automatic shifts so firmly on a wide-open throttle that you feel small cushioned thuds against your backside, it is so unobtrusive in less urgent operating modes that it becomes almost completely transparent. Its reluc­tance to downshift at anything other than deep prods of the accelerator obviates any of that annoying busyness you often find in automatics on undulating terrain.

This characteristic inoffensiveness is the key motif in the E320. The measure of how well it performs often translates simply to a lack of annoyance to its occu­pants. The ride, for example, is neither squashy nor firm. It rolls along on an even keel with very few disturbing ride motions and an admirable sense of isolation. As with most German products, tire roar and thump in the E320 is still clearly audible, but it’s exaggerated by the relative quiet­ness of the car’s driveline and by the con­trast it creates with the absence of impact shock. You hear the thump but feel no bump.

Something similar happens in corners. Although the car is not noticeably stiff in roll, its attitude in bends is smoothly damped and there are no abrupt heeling or pitching motions. The car just tips gently and then sets as you steer into a bend. There’s a new double control-arm suspension up front, teamed with a rack-and-pinion steering gear—new for Mercedes—and the combination provides fluent handling, allowing you to place the car accurately on line and making it feel much smaller than it is.

The rack-and-pinion steering also gives the new E-class much clearer on-center feel than the previous recirculating-ball system, but it still has the typical Mercedes gloopy feel at parking speeds, and we noticed some kickback shock on severe bumps that we don’t recall from the old tried-and-true system. Apart from these tolerable trade-offs, the steering is smooth and free of vibration; it is neither numb on­-center nor too fast off-center, and what it lacks in tactile intimacy it makes up for with precision.

All of which is typical of Mercedes. But what’s different here is a touch of charismatic flair. Look at the C-pillar and rear-end styling. This could be the work of Italian style guru Giorgio Giugiaro. If you don’t see it, park the E-class car alongside a Lexus GS300. The resemblance is unmistakable, and that car is the work of Giugiaro. And what about the front end? With those raked and rounded headlamps, it’s a treatment that seems to prompt a love/hate response, and that’s not a styling risk Mercedes-Benz would have taken in the past.

But the best part is sitting in the car. As you look over the hood and the famous ringed star, you can appreciate how sculpted the fenders are. Why, with those cur­vaceous bulges defining the smooth arc of the hood, you might almost think you were sit­ting behind the wheel of a Porsche 911. The rest of the inte­rior is, as usual, ritually sober, with the expected glossy veneer, no-nonsense instrumentation, and crystal-clear switch layout. But there is also a profound quality to the design that grows on anyone who owns a Benz. So much so that a week in the car produces withdrawal symptoms when you have to give it up.

Okay, the E320 is not perfect. The knee bolster is really obtrusive to drivers of cer­tain heights and builds, actually contacting their shins when the seat is adjusted to suit them. The infrared remote key needs line­-of-sight contact with its receiver on the rear-view mirror, which limits its useful­ness. And our car produced a weird and fairly loud wind noise from somewhere in front at speeds common to the autobahn, which is not something you expect from a car developed for those German highways. It may have been a problem particular to our car.

The new E-class car seems a worthy replacement to its esteemed predecessor. It’s more stylish, roomier, and quieter, and it has more standard and safety equipment. Yet it has not put on weight. But the most amazing aspect of the new car is that its base sticker price is not expected to exceed that of the preceding E-class car. Now that’s what we call progress.

Counterpoints

It’s only 2.2 inches longer than its predecessor, but the E320 feels, well, immense. Mercedes-Benz’s traditional control inputs—slow steering, lan­guorous starts, leisurely throttle tip-­in—are there to engender smoothness. For most buyers, “smooth” is synonymous with “luxurious.” But in traffic, the sluggish responses can be frus­trating. “Smooth” begins to hover on the edge of “vague,” which in this 3578-pound sedan sometimes translates into “ponderous.” It has nothing to do with horsepower, either. The Lexus LS400 delivers the same impression. —John Phillips

What’s going on with the way this car rides? Over mangled road, you hear substantial thumps, but you hardly feel them. Meanwhile, I had to go to the owner’s manual to discover what those bead-sized buttons on the visor are. Very clever: garage-door openers. Sportiest-sounding Benz six-cylinder in 30 years. Handling is nimble (the transmission reacts immediately to hand shifts, also refreshing). The front­-end styling is a lesson in car art, and for a lesson in quality, run your fingers across the seams of the sheetmetal. Then again, for about 46 large, it oughta be art. —Steve Spence

Mercedes cars are renowned for their safety, engineering, and vault-like solidity, but they’re also immensely practical. This E320, for example, is shorter than a Mazda Millenia and narrower than a Dodge Stratus, and it can turn a tighter circle than a Ford Con­tour SE. Yet despite these trim dimen­sions, its tall profile easily houses four adults—even with hats. Its climate­-control system offers enough overrides and adjustments to satisfy even the pickiest driver. Such features may not make for the sexiest image, but I bet they keep previous Benz owners coming back. —Csaba Csere