Now that Cadillac has been designated a core brand for the new General Motors, expect to see a rush of new vehicles bearing the traditional wreath-and-crest.

Eventually, Cadillac wants to have a line of cars that matches Mercedes-Benz, BMW, and Audi, with models that come in small, medium, and large sizes. That would give Cadillac a range that faces off against Mercedes’ C-, E-, and S-class, or BMW’s 3-, 5-,and 7-series.

For now, Cadillac only has the CTS in the center of its lineup. The larger Cadillac STS has been an underperformer; ditto for the smaller Saab-based Cadillac sold in Europe.

But Cadillac isn’t waiting for the new cars to arrive. A pair of more utilitarian Cadillacs, both new to the brand, will show up at dealers this summer.

The old SRX nameplate has been grafted onto a new vehicle, a mid-size crossover SUV that shares its platform with an upcoming Saab. The sticker on my test vehicle was $37,735.

But there is no mistaking the identification of the brand, given the thick layering of Cadillac styling cues — chrome and chrome-finished trim inside and out, flashy fender vents, and so on.

In fact, the Cadillac stylists may have overdone it. The SRX wears as much bling as an extended-length Escalade but has far less space in which to display it.

The base 260-horsepower 3.0 V-6, which the SRX shares with the Chevy Equinox, doesn’t do much to give the vehicle a distinctive personality either, providing only adequate power and atmospherics — and adequate fuel economy: 18 mpg city/25 mpg highway.

By comparison, the Sport Wagon seems perfectly comfortable in its Cadillac finery. For my money, this is the sharpest looking CTS variant. The sharp angles of the roof rack and the rear window complement the jutting front grill.

This is also a Cadillac that can get out of its own way. The standard engine is a 3.6 liter, 304-hp, V-6 that provides plenty of oomph.

Surprisingly, the close fit of the Sport Wagon body sacrifices little in the way of cargo room to the SRX. It has 25 cubic feet of space behind the rear seat and 121 cubic feet overall, vs. 29 cu. ft. and 129 cu. ft. overall for the crossover.

I did miss a start-stop button on the CTS; because the platform is older, it still has the ignition switch mounted on the steering column.

Pricing is unavailable at this time, But the CTS Sport Wagon is my favorite of the Cadillac carryalls — and my favorite Cadillac overall — in almost every way.

All but alone in the wreckage left by the automotive depression, the population of small crossover SUVs bearing upscale brands has been exploding.

In the past several months, Mercedes, Audi, and Volvo have all added new small SUVs to their lineups. They are chasing the Lexus RX350, the segment’s longtime leader, which has just been redesigned to fend off the new competition. Small crossovers represent a profitable niche; Lexus sold 7,500 RXs last month.

I’ve driven all three of these vehicles in the past several months, as well as the non-premium Toyota RAV4, and while they all have their strong points and special flavor, my favorite is the Audi Q. It combines sportiness, luxury, and all-round driveability in a good-looking package that I expect will age with grace.

The Audi’s biggest drawbacks, in my view, are its small cargo area, and its price — $48,275 for my test car with three special equipment packages. While that’s not out of line with the competition, it is certainly substantial for a vehicle built on the bones of the compact A4, only with a higher stance and a hatchback.

On the other hand, I definitely enjoyed the typically classy Audi interior, the three-dimensional map display on the navigation plus package ($3,000 option) as well as the panoramic sunroof that exposed the entire passenger compartment to daylight ($4,300 option for the premium plus package). Audi ambiance has been raised to a new level.

As for the additional $2,950 to pay for Audi drive select, that feature may be one of today’s novelties that turns into tomorrow’s necessities. Drive select allows the driver to choose settings for the car’s important functions.

I’ve never been a big fan of adjustable suspensions that deliver minimal changes, but drive select combines suspension control with steering, transmission, and steering –- and you can feel the differences at every setting.

In comfort mode, you get Audi’s equivalent of Buick ride performance. Switch to dynamic, and you are behind the wheel of an S4. The throttle kicks down and the shift points come more quickly. You can pretend you are driving a performance model without shelling out the extra bucks and get extra pleasure from navigating twisty roads.

Innovations like this one that improve the performance of crossovers could boost their appeal to the enthusiasts who usually shun them.

And it helps explain why Audi sales are holding up better than competitors’ as it gains market share in an otherwise dismal auto market.

How did Bob Lutz let the Camaro out of the design studio?

I can claim only a shrunken six feet in height, and my close-cut and thinning hair is the opposite of Conan O’Brien’s pompadour, yet the top of my head scraped the roof of the sunroof-equipped Camaro. Lutz, General Motors’ legendary, and now retired, head of product development, is about four inches taller than I am, and his posture is much more erect. How does he squeeze into the driver’s seat?

Okay, I’ve gotten seated in the car, and adjusted the seat — which is the same sensation as sitting in a well. I feel like I’m scraping the pavement, the beltline easily rises to my shoulder, and my view forward includes more instrument panel than windshield.

Some of that’s good. The chunky gauges on the instrument panel are retro-themed but readable, and the surrounding pebble-grained plastic is well-done for this class of vehicle.  I turn the steering-column mounted ignition key and pull back the shift lever with a hefty yank. You would never confuse the unyielding feel with a Lexus, but the stiff action is to be expected from a vehicle that attempts to recapture the ambiance of an original from 40 years ago.

Underway, the 3.6 liter, V6 engine makes all the right noises in producing 304 horsepower and launching the Camaro to 60 miles per hour in 6.1 seconds. This is a heavy car for its size — 3719 pounds — and wouldn’t be my first choice to navigate the twisty country paths of Connecticut’s Litchfield County, but it does just fine on the open road.

GM revived the Camaro in response to the sustained success of the Ford Mustang, and it arrives on the market a year after Chrysler’s similarly-inspired Dodge Challenger. It is no coincidence that the two laggards in this product segment have both entered bankruptcy court.

The Camaro makes its debut just as the Obama Administration has imposed strict new fuel economy standards for 2016. The Camaro is no slacker in this category by today’s standards. The V-6 is rated at 18 mpg city/ 29 mpg highway, and I recorded 26 mpg over several hundred miles of driviing.

What the future holds is something else. The whole pony car concept — big engine in a low-slung coupe body — seems dated and I can’t imagine a General Motors (GM) now largely owned by the U.S. government renewing this car at the end of its life cycle.

With an as-tested price of $31,485, the 2010 Camaro could appeal to those who owned an original and want to relive the experience, or to those who wanted an original but couldn’t afford one. Its attraction for the rest of us is limited.

And it would be non-existent for younger drivers. A 15-year-old enthusiast of my acquaintance all but sneered when he discovered what car I was driving. “Mr. Taylor,” he said, “I’m not into Camaros.”

Are Americans ready to think small – this time for real? Plenty of import manufacturers think so, and increasingly American makers will too.

U.S. buyers give up their trucks, SUVs, and V-8s only reluctantly. And why not? American cars are designed for American roads and American gas prices. The only time drivers think small is when small is cute (think Volkswagen’s Beetle in the 1960s) or when small is smart (if gas prices spike as they did last year).

The way to lure drivers out of their big cars, and foreign manufacturers have learned this, is to convince them that small isn’t a synonym for cheap. Detroit is right behind.

Ford (F) is launching its upscale Fiesta and Focus next year, GM (GM) is readying the Chevy Cruze, and Chrysler hopes to have some Fiats in its showrooms by 2011.

They will find plenty of company when they get here. Example: the Kia Soul Plus. With a base price of $15,900 and an as-tested sticker of $17,795 (sunroof and audio upgrade options), it certainly falls on the inexpensive end of the spectrum.

Yet the Soul Plus is powered by a peppy 2.0 liter 16-valve engine with dual overhead cams, enough power for its 2,800 pounds – and for the driver and a passenger or two to enjoy themselves without getting into trouble.

The quality of the materials and fixtures in the Soul’s interior is higher than I’ve seen in cars costing more, though I’d stay away from the two-tone contrasting treatment in favor of solid black. And the design of the exterior is fashionably squared off, though not as refined as the old Scion xB or the new Nissan (NSANY) Cube.

The hatchback and the fold-down rear seats render the Soul as practical as they come. Fuel economy is rated at 24 miles per gallon city, 30 miles per gallon city.

Quality has been a concern for Kia (KIMTF) owners in the past. I can’t vouch for the long-term reliability of the Soul but my initial impressions were all positive.

I wouldn’t choose the Soul for a cross-country trip with three friends. Nor would I activate the orange lights around the audio speakers that pulsate in time with the music. But for the kind of short trips on winding country roads that account for half my miles these days, the Soul fills the bill.

Volvo is at a very delicate time in its 82-year history. Its president and CEO resigned nine months ago after a failed product offensive; its sales in the U.S. – its most important market – are down 46.4% this year; and Ford, which bought Volvo in 1999, has put it up for sale.

Now comes the XC60, Volvo’s entry in the hotly-contested mid-size premium utility segment. By itself, it won’t be enough to turn the tide (it is a low-volume vehicle) but Volvo could use any kind of hit right now.

Sad to say, it probably won’t find one in the XC60, a vehicle that does most things well, but isn’t really outstanding in any of them. Given the current condition of the Volvo brand, it will have a hard time going head-to-head with the BMW X3, Acura RDX, and Mercedes GLK. And when you stack it up against the Toyota RAV4, prestige aside, the XC60 finishes a distant second

First the good news. From both the front and the rear, this is the best looking Volvo I’ve seen in a long time; the long, vertical taillights are especially well-executed. The interior is handsome and functional, and the controls are easy to operate. Underway, the SC60 moves smartly and quietly ahead as directed, and the ride is well-enough controlled to handle the spring-thaw potholes of northwestern Connecticut.

Here’s the less-good news. The SC60 and the RAV4 are almost identical in size, but the Toyota has six more cubic feet of storage space. The RAV4 with a V-6 has a much larger engine (3.5 liters vs 3.0 liters in the turbocharged Volvo), yet it weighs 600 pounds less and gets much better fuel economy: 19 mpg city/27 highway vs. 16 mpg city/22 highway for the Volvo.

To be sure, the XC60 has some features the RAV4 doesn’t, and it feels like a more expensive vehicle. But with a base price of $37,200 (my tester was $42,500), it was nearly $11,000 more than the Toyota).

That kind of price comparison isn’t going to make Volvo’s recovery any easier. And it may prove to be a significant obstacle as the company tries to find a buyer.

For those of you following the shrinking of General Motors (GM) as it tries to devise a survival plan that could allow a takeover by the federal government, Cadillac has been designated one of its core brands. Its previous association with Saab and Hummer has been dissolved, and the historic old Cadillac brand — which, at 106, is older than GM itself — is looking toward the future.

A question for GM’s prospective government owners: How will you feel about the 556 horsepower CTS-V?

You don’t hear much about maxi-cars from Washington these days. The Obama Administration is one that talks about restraint and sacrifice when it is not inveighing against global warming and climate change.

So where does the CTS-V fit into that picture with its 6.2 liter V-8 engine, Brembo brakes, 19-inch aluminum wheels, magnetic ride control, and – oh, yes – 12 miles per gallon estimated city mileage, and a $57,920 base price. (The as-tested price for my crystal red number, with special seats, a navi system, and gas guzzler tax was $68,135.)

The CTS-V is a limited volume vehicle, with about 1,000 sold in the first four months of this year. And while the big-engine, reasonable-price concept bears the fingerprints of the renowned Bob Lutz, the former head of product development is easing off to retirement, leaving nobody of comparable stature to argue for the CTS-V’s survival.

I’ve never been a huge fan of the CTS – it always feels assembled to me from parts that aren’t fully integrated with each other. But if you are looking for Corvette performance with a nicer interior and four doors, this is the car to get.

Being respectful of my driver’s license, wildlife well-being, roadside joggers, and fuel consumption, I didn’t come near to accessing the car’s full performance capability. But Edmunds reports that a six-speed manual version raced to 60 miles per hour in 4.3 seconds.

That makes the CTS-V one of the best performance-for-money cars on the planet.

What I liked about the car was its tractability around town. Some high-horsepower cars feel like they are fighting to restrain themselves at low speed, but the CTS-V was comfortable in any situation.

So, if you are so inclined, run, don’t walk past the Saab and Hummer stores to get to your Cadillac dealer. V-series models like the CTS-V will be hard to come by if General Motors becomes Obama Motors.

As the owner of an original 240Z purchased in 1970, I felt cheated by the first Z-car to arrive during the reign of Carlos Ghosn in 2001. Its stubby lines and flashy interior radiated none of the elegance or presence of my car, which came in British Racing Green, and which I thought of as my Japanese Jaguar.

I felt none of those shortcomings, though, about the electric blue 2009 370Z that turned up in my garage recently. Although it is shorter and wider than its predecessor, it is more graceful, especially in the rear section where the roof tapers suavely into the hatch. The die-cut style headlamps and tail lamps, with their whimsical shapes, gave designers a real opportunity to go overboard, but the fixtures are executed with such refinement that they amplify the overall elegance of the car’s exterior.

The interior and instrument panel are designed to a similar standard. The three-layer layout groups the instruments by how essential they are to the driver. The speedo and tach are located smack in front of your eyes, with a small window in between that tells you what gear you are in – a huge help when driving a manual transmission. Three secondary gauges are mounted slightly deeper in the IP, while the gas supply is registered by a dotted meter that takes the guesswork out of refills.

Underway, the 370Z delivers performance to match its appearance. At first, power from the 332-horsepower 3.7 liter V-6 threatened to overwhelm my left foot as I eased off the clutch, but I quickly adapted, making the Z surprisingly tractable in traffic. When the opportunity to air it out arrives, the Z responds with alacrity. Zero to 60 miles per hour has been measured at a super-quick 5.1 seconds. Steering and cornering are a match for cars costing twice as much; I have never felt more confident rounding a corner or exiting on a thruway ramp. Better still, the Z extracts few penalties for its exceptional performance in ride harshness or road noise.

You can get into a 2009 Z for $29,930 plus $695 for destination charges. My Sport Package model, with the synchro rev transmission that automatically matches engine revs on downshifts, along with special wheels and tires, added another $3000.

Back in 1970, my slightly bruised 240Z cost me $3,450 and rusted away after a few Michigan winters. When I reluctantly dropped off the 370Z at Bradley International Airport outside Hartford, I thought about relative value. The inflation-adjusted price of the 240 in 2009 would be $18,913 – still a great value from the era of the cheap yen.

But the 350 has twice the horsepower, a whole raft of features unimaginable back then, and it isn’t prone to rust. Despite being nearly twice the money, it would be my choice today.

Now, I wonder if it comes in green….

Does driving a car that carries an MSRP of $227,205 guarantee you are going to love it immediately?

Not me. By the time you cross the $100,000 threshold, the degree of specialness implied by the stratospheric price usually translates into flawed ergonomics, inferior controls and instrumentation, and the general unease that comes from having anything that expensive put under your custodianship (even temporarily).

So my first hours with the Bentley Continental GT Speed were a little uncomfortable. It wasn’t until the third day of my test period that I came to appreciate its unique virtues.

I was motoring north on Connecticut’s Route Eight late at night. Traffic was light, but I was unfamiliar with the road, which twisted as it went through old factory towns like Waterbury, and I was reacting slowly to the curves.

The Bentley took it all in stride. The 6-liter, twin-turbocharged 12-cylinder engine provided effortless power, while the perfectly-balanced steering guided me through the turns as the disciplined suspension kept me on an even keel.

All very nice, but why in 2009 would anyone even consider paying this much for a car?

One is exclusivity. Of the 13.1 million cars sold in 2008, only 2864 were Bentleys. That number will be alot smaller this year – sales so far are down 69% – and the number of Speed models smaller still.

Second is Anglophilia. Bentleys have been made in Britain since the 1920s. Although Bentley is now owned by Volkswagen and 55% of the Speed’s parts come from Germany, it is still assembled in Crewe, Bentley’s home since World War II. Hail Britannia!

Then there is provenance: The GT Speed traces its lineage to the Speed Six introduced in 1928, renowned for its powerful engine and lightweight chassis, and winner of the 24 hours of Le Mans. Bentley owners get a little piece of that history.

At 5,180 pounds, the GT Speed is no lightweight, but its performance is more than up to snuff. Should you have the opportunity to do so, 60 miles per hour arrives in 4.3 seconds, according to the factory, and top speed is 202 mph.

Nobody needs that much horsepower, nor an engine that gobbles a gallon of high-test every 16 miles. But having some Bentleys around is like having a tangible piece of automotive history. It is nice that there are a few drivers willing to foot the bill.

Despite being one of the pioneers of the gas-electric hybrid, Honda has taken its lumps in recent years.

More of a science project than a passenger car, the original Insight hybrid faded quickly from consumers’ consciences while the Toyota Prius went on to become the industry standard. Subsequent hybrid adaptions of the Civic and Accord failed to set the world on fire, trading, as they did, headline- grabbing gas mileage for simplicity and affordability.

Now comes the second-generation Insight, Honda’s latest attempt to reclaim bragging rights in the hybrid wars. Let’s cut right to the chase: No science project, this is an attractive, drivable compact car that you’d be happy to park in your garage; it starts at less than $20,000 and it got better than 44 miles per gallon in a combination of 200 miles of highway and country driving I did recently.

When you’re behind the wheel of an Insight, you’ll have no trouble remembering what you’re driving – and onlookers won’t either. With its fast-sloping front-end and high, hatch-backed rear – a shape imposed by the demands for aerodynamic efficiency – the Insight looks like nothing else on the road except a Prius.

Behind the wheel, you feel like you are piloting the Starship Enterprise. A large green digital speedometer glows green to encourage you to use high-mileage driving techniques like not accelerating uphill, while a large round dial allows you to easily check the state of battery charge or discharge. Should you want to raise your environmental consciousness to an even higher level, an “eco” button allows you to gear everything down – including the air conditioner – to squeeze another couple of miles out of a gallon of gas.

On the highway, all this emphasis on fuel economy extracts some penalties. The low-rolling resistance tires are over-matched on expansion joints and pot holes, while the CVT transmission causes the engine to noisily rev before it can catch up. The Insight goes on sale April 22 – Earth Day – and is likely to find slow going for a couple of months while gas remains cheap and auto sales remain depressed. The launch of the third-generation Prius later this year will likely expand interest in the hybrid segment but also make things even tougher for Honda to increase interest in the whole hybrid category.

The Prius is a larger and plusher car that gets better mileage – 50 mpg – and Toyota has signaled that it will be very aggressive in its pricing. In Japan, the Prius starts at less than $1,000 more than the Insight. With its hard-won status as the affordable hybrid up for grabs, the Insight could find itself trailing the leader once again.

Just arriving on the market, Ford’s Fusion Hybrid is being acclaimed as the best of its breed.

Jim Healy, veteran car reviewer for USA Today, called it “the best gasoline-electric hybrid yet.” Automobile declared it “a better car” than the Camry hybrid, offering “a compelling combination of exceptional economy, acceptable performance, and a high degree of livability.”

Anecdotal support for those claims came from a couple of Detroit-area parking valets who offered their unsolicited observations when I was there to test drive the Fusion. Presumably jaundiced from seeing the best of Motor City iron, they nevertheless raved about the hybrid’s quiet running in electric mode and overall good looks. (Then again, they may be accustomed to stroking the drivers of new cars in the belief that they work for their manufacturers and may express their gratitude with bigger tips).

I’m not going to argue with any of them. Restyled for 2010 with new nose and butt jobs, the Fusion is a handsome American midsize car that is robust, roomy, and reliable. You would not be embarrassed to drive it anywhere.

The dashboard reflects a bit more of Ford’s truck heritage than I’d like to see in a passenger car, with strong vertical and horizontal lines. And my preproduction test car had some wide gaps that an engineer assured me would be corrected when the Fusion reaches dealers.

The interface between the electric and gasoline engines in the Fusion is as seamless as any other, with no noticeable shudder when the software shifts the drivetrain between the two systems. The Japanese may have invented hybrid drive but Ford is certainly refining it.

For the civic-minded, supporting hybrids because they minimize environmental impact is recommendation enough for the Fusion. More literal people like me will want to take a closer look at the tradeoff between the higher price of the hybrid system – $3,200 in this instance – and the improvement in fuel economy.

The EPA rates the Fusion at 41 miles gallon city/36 miles per gallon highway. But as they say in the ads, your mileage will differ. A couple of hundred miles of driving on the pancake-flat (if potholed) roads of southeastern Michigan yielded me only a smidgen over 34 mpg.

I have to admit, I wasn’t paying particular attention to the fuel-saving prompts on the Fusion’s elaborate instrument panel, nor was I being especially smart about avoiding sudden acceleration and panic braking.

Nonetheless – while that is nearly a 50% improvement over the 23 mpg in the gasoline-only Fusion, it may not be enough to compensate for the higher cost, reduced trunk space, and limited availability.

If, on the other hand, you want to patriotically support the only American car company not currently requesting aid from the federal government, then the Fusion is for you.