Free breathing naturally aspirated engines have been largely abandoned by the premium sports-saloon makers set in a wholesale shift to turbocharger power and economy. But not yet at Lexus. Stuffing the powertrain from its thunderous RCF coupe inside the GS chassis might just prove to be a stroke of throwback genius.
It’s billed as the last big-brand sports saloon with a naturally aspirated V8, but the Lexus GS F is far more than that. The mid-sized five-seater is on the sophisticated and polite side of fast, both in corners and in a straight line. Well equipped, sweet sounding and easy to handle even at its extremes, it might be surprise some of the Germans.
It’s a car that takes the powertrain out of the RC F coupe and houses it in a saloon, which means there isn’t a turbo or super charger to be seen.
The big picture is that they’ve delivered a five-seat rear-wheel drive with a clever active differential that helps the car turn into corners as well as doing all it can to direct the 5.0-litre V8’s 471bhp (351kW) of power to the road on the way out of bends.
Naturally aspirated V8
What’s more, it’s just about the last naturally aspirated V8 engine you’ll ever find in a mid-sized, premium saloon, and it’s hard to argue with Lexus when they say that’s a good thing.
While they’re unsure of the final numbers, the GS F will end up somewhere within a whisper of a certain German sports saloon from Bavaria.
True, the GS body is a half-sized up from the 3-Series and, in the chase for handling balance, it’s also about 20 per cent stiffer than the donor chassis. It’s a long way from just having a new engine bolted in. The chassis is braced at seven points under the body, boasts triangular braces above and behind the front wheels and it even has stronger adhesives around the door openings.
All of this is done to give it a platform to manage both the power and weight of the big V8 up front and the overt stickiness of the 20-inch Michelin Pilot Super Sport tyres that just seem to hold and hold and hold.
GS F Fireworks
The world is now accustomed to their sports saloons delivering monster punch at 2,000 rpm, at the latest. Leave it in a tall gear and the 32-valve V8 can sometimes feel like it’s waiting too long for the fireworks, even when almost all of the 530 Isaacs are bringing their muscle at 4,000 rpm.
The fireworks come, sure, but they come later, which means you’ll have to work the paddle shifters for the eight-speed Aisen automatic transmission to keep it in the right gear for going.
It’s heavy, too, which exacerbates its torque shortfall to the compressed air-loving Germans. It’s not the first premium sports saloon to overindulge in the custard tarts, mind you, but its 1,825kg that can be felt when you’re at commuting speeds and feel compelled to jump into a hole in the other lane, or when you’re dropping the anchor, or when you change direction on a racetrack.
Or, more obviously, when you fill it up. The 66-litre petrol tank gets drained at a rate of 11.3 litres/100km (24.9 mpg), but the official figure around town is a scarier 16.8 l/100km (16.8 mpg). These consumption figures rely heavily on the engine not straying from the Atkinson cycle-part of its software. Reality suggests something even thirstier if that happens.
Some fuel tanks are more fun to drain than others, though, and so it is with the GS F.
You can be caught wondering what the fuss is about at low speeds, or when you’re just cruising. Lexus insists the car is all about character, but it’s hard to initially see that. The immediate impression is that the sonorous V8 delivers 90+ per cent of the character and the rest of the car is a delivery system for it.
Compress the springs harder in corners, the throttle pedal deeper into the carpet and the spine deeper into the seat and the entire car comes together more seamlessly and coherently.
GS F character
Find the right road, in the right weather, and instead of thinking the engine is the main source of the GS F’s character, you find a mass of mechanical and electrical stuff working hard together for a common goal. And that goal is to make you feel good and to make bends pass as seamlessly and easily as possible, while making the driver look good.
It doesn’t start with the engine, though. This seamless sense starts with the differential. It’s so clever that it can make the Lexus swing into a corner far harder than the front tyres would ordinarily want to, by fiddling with the torque flow individually to the rear wheels. It’s a system that works when even when there’s no power being pushed through the diff, too, and then it works constantly to keep everything stable mid corner before working again on the way out, as all the power arrives.
It’s cheaper, lighter and more entertaining than moving to all-wheel drive, especially when it’s working in concert with that operatic engine.
You’ll drive it in Sport mode most of the time, because that’s where the noise is at its best, yet it can get a bit droning and monotonous during freeway or urban work and, besides, it makes the transmission just a bit too enthusiastic with its downshift patterns.
That all works well when you’re pushing harder, because the transmission’s ideas about when it should shift are pretty well in line with what you’d be doing yourself anyway, but it’s too energetic for urban serenity.
Any doubts you have about the engine’s torque shortfall relative to the turbo terrors are erased once you’ve found the road that lets you keep the revs above 4,500rpm.
It all comes together then, with the 5.0-litre howling up to 7,300rpm time and again, with the instant response from the engine allowing the car to be played with mid-corner in a way the stop-go turbos can’t match anymore.
Addictively enticing
It’s incredibly accurate to throttle inputs and it’s fast, without being frighteningly fast, and the sweetness of its top-end power delivery makes it addictively enticing.
It might be slower on the road than its Bavarian equivalent but the GS F is more than fast enough to get into legal strife, hitting 100km/h in 4.6 seconds and whipping across the quarter mile in 12.8, but it’s more about how it makes you feel as a driver. And it makes you feel good.
With its 12.3:1 compression ratio, it’s a heavily oversquare engine (94mm bore plays 89.5mm stroke), and that’s how it feels, willingly and cheerfully playing all day at the upper reaches, without ever breaking into the harshness of overstrain. It revs to 7,300rpm but it feels like it revs to 8,500rpm, and it’s smooth and linear all the way.
The rest of the chassis also shines more the harder you make it work. The brakes are strong, with six-piston monobloc calipers clamping to 380mm discs up front, and they are progressive without feeling soft. Nicely judged.
The entire chassis package, with double wishbones at the front end and a multi-link rear, just works and works and works. It’s not as though the car feels like it’s a natural athlete, but it feels like all of its components are working with everything they’ve got to deliver the same result, and you come away respecting it for that.
Ride quality
It’s capable of carrying high mid-corner speeds, but never risks feeling nervous or fiddly or treacherous in doing it. You can make it flow between apexes, you can change styles and make it snap one way or the other, you can either squeeze or smash the throttle. It doesn’t seem to matter to the car, and it and its gizmos will find a way to work to your style regardless.
The only real issue here is that you can’t mix and match the chassis tune settings, like you can with most German cars. It’d be nice to have the engine note from the Sport mode, the transmission a touch calmer in Normal and the richer steering feel of Sport+ at the same time, but you can’t.
Besides going around corners fluently, the GS F also manages bumps well, corners flat on its springs and behaves like an adult playing children’s games. It thinks its way through the tough spots, rather than trying to outmuscle them, which is odd for a muscle car.
The interior is curious mix of expensive and short cut, with far too much of the switchgear looking at least a class below premium and the multimedia scroller feeling over sensitive (it can be changed, apparently) and fiddly to use. There are lower-dash plastics that are anything but premium and then nicely upholstered console pieces that don’t seem to need upholstering.
The instrument cluster is fully digital, changing as you move from eco mode to normal to sport and it also changes colour on the way through, and a head-up display is optional. The 12.3-inch multimedia display is high on the dash, but integrated into it, rather than standing proud of it.
The seats, too, are supportive and good looking, with plenty of lateral support even in the most aggressive driving. They’re also useful in the rear, where there is a surprising amount of legroom, and even the 520-litre boot is usefully laid out.
Irish pricing
Prices have yet to be confirmed for Ireland, but we expect they are likely to be in the region of €130,000 to €135,000.
This is a strong effort from Lexus, and it’s stronger the deeper you dig. If they can bring enough attention to it, early enough, only the lack of low-end torque in around-town conditions and some interior design shortcuts and quirks will hold it back.
The rest of it is a complex collection of ideas and executions, all lined up together to make driving fast feel fun and simple. And what’s wrong with that?