With the Copenhagen summit on climate change underway, driving the latest overweight offering from Land Rover would seem to put me in the camp of the global warming deniers.

After all, how can you justify making your daily rounds in a vehicle that weighs nearly three tons and gets just 12 miles per gallon in city driving, if you believe the planet is in danger of overheating?

Land Rover’s LR4, formerly known as the LR3 and called Discovery everywhere else in the world, is one of the last of its breed, — a SUV assembled with antique body-on-frame construction that is engineered for extreme off-roading.

That’s all fine if you are out patrolling the Serengeti on a regular basis, but less admirable if you are cruising shopping centers in Beverly Hills.

With the U.S. imposing 2016 standards of 35 mpg and Europe setting regulations on carbon dioxide emissions, that kind of excess would seem to make the life expectancy of the LR4 a limited one.

Ignoring societal and regulatory considerations, the LR4 measures up quite well. A finalist for the North American Truck of the Year award, it is more modern and refined than any Land Rover in memory.

The driver sits up high in a captain’s chair with an armrest. Unlike in earlier models, the pedals and stacks respond with a reasonable degree of effort.

The new 5.0 liter 375-hp aluminum alloy V-8, which is also used in Jaguars, provides plenty of pep, propelling this seven-passenger vehicle to 60 miles per hour in a brisk 7.5 seconds. The interior is both functional and attractive and aligns Land Rover with international standards. There are no more switches that move in an opposite direction from the rest of the world’s.

Some of the information screens, though were difficult to decipher — especially while traveling at 60 mph — and the trip computer appeared incapable of delivering a fuel consumption analysis.

An early-season snowfall limited the opportunity to evaluate the LR4’s legendary off-road capability but it did just fine on paved highways and the permanent four-wheel drive system handled slippery roads without a hiccup.

Assuming you are willing to brave the scorn of angry environmentalists, the LR4 will set you back $48,100 (including transportation). As tested, with the seven-seat LUX passage, the tab came to $58,415.

If that is too rich to contemplate, think of the LR4, like a Patek Philippe watch, as a possession to be passed on to future generations.

That’s because by the time this model runs its course, the brawny SUV segment likely will be obsolete. There almost certainly will not be an LR5.

A new Porsche is a big deal, and an all-new Porsche — especially one with four doors and a hatchback — is practically an historic event.

So I invited three car-savvy acquaintances — a pair of BMW owners and the proud possessor of an Audi S4 — to help me evaluate the Panamera Turbo.

They loved the car. But they wondered, as did I, what you do with a 4,300-pound vehicle that purportedly has a top speed of 188 miles per hour and carries a sticker price of $145,000?

Commuting between Munich and Stuttgart on the speed-limitless autobahn is one thing; dodging state troopers on the Taconic Parkway in New York is quite another.

At least we demonstrated the practicality of the Panamera. This is an unfussy car you can drive every day, as long as you can find a place to safely park it.

The car seats four adults comfortably, as advertised. All-wheel-drive means it doesn’t have to sit in the garage on snowy days. And aside from the ignition switch in its traditional spot on the left side of the steering wheel, the controls are straight-forward and glitch-free. My three German car-owners felt right at home.

From the curb, the Panamera appears a bit awkward. Style is subjective, but the front end looked uncomfortably reminiscent of sportier Porsches and the flanks excessively busy. The fast-back rear end, however, is refined and sophisticated — reminiscent of Jaguar’s XK-E coupes.

The one surprise is the size of the Panamera. It is longer and wider than a Mercedes CLS — probably its closest competitor — so care is needed in tight spaces, and the backup camera comes in handy when parking.

All that mass becomes apparent on the highway, where the Panamera feels quiet, solid, and very, very fast but in no sense like a sports car. It will get you where you want to go, but without the buzz you feel in, say, a 911convertible.

From the driver’s seat, you feel a sense of power. The Panamera turns heads and responds to every directional input. One driver commented on the fast tip-in of the accelerator that made the Panamera feel even quicker; another reflected on the peace of mind that comes with knowing that you can pass anything at almost any time.

Porsche plans to make 20,000 Panameras annually, with one third of them making their way to the U.S. Exactly how customers react at a time when the economy is still wobbly and trophy possessions are allegedly out of favor will be interesting to watch.

As for my test-drive trio, they all applauded Porsche for its achievement but were happy to return to the lesser technical and financial challenges of their respective vehicles. Cohabitating with a Panamera requires a bigger commitment than they were ready to make.

My Transit Connect was like the attractive person you see across a room to whom you are immediately drawn. But when you get up close, you find that person is still attractive — yet not quite as perfect as you first imagined.

And so it was with this unique, futuristic vehicle. More and more Americans like their vehicles to be useful as well as stylish and the Transit Connect is more useful than any vehicle I can think off.

With room for five (thanks to a full-width second seat), loads of storage space, an extra-high roof, and easy-opening cargo doors, this vehicle lives for Saturday morning errands or the stop-and-go demands of a small business. It is a Honda Element raised to a higher level of carrying capacity; a PT Cruiser with an extra helping of mojo.

But my ardor began to fade after some time behind the wheel. Creeping through rainy-day, rush-hour traffic on New York’s Henry Hudson parkway, the TC felt right at home, its oversize windshield giving me a clear view of the action.

Once I encountered the twistier Saw Mill Parkway, though, it was a different story. The TC handled the curves all right, but the hills were too much of a challenge for the 2.0-liter engine and four-speed transmission. The TC was constantly downshifting and seemed to struggle, even though I was carrying nothing close to a full load.

Trying to change radio frequencies as I left New York was another disappointment. The touch-screen tuning seemed to resist my finger pokes, and trying to tune in distant stations required punching their frequencies into a virtual keyboard — not a recipe for smooth driving in stop-and-go conditions.

Ford CEO Alan Mulally has instructed his product planners to create common driver interfaces on all Ford vehicles just like the cockpit controls on in Boeing airplanes. I hope that the TC touch screen isn’t spreading throughout the model line.

Otherwise, the TC felt rock solid, returned decent gas mileage (its combined EPA estimate is 23 miles per gallon) and carried a reasonable base sticker price (including delivery) of just over $23,000 (my as-tested vehicle came in at $24, 975).

One of the shortlisted vehicles for the North American Truck of the Year award (voted by some 50 automotive journalists), the TC gets high marks for functionality and originality. It creates a whole new segment — call it “compact hyper-functional utility vehicle” or “super high-roof stuff carrier.”

With a rear cargo space large enough to sleep in, it should be popular with ski bums, surfers, and college students who can’t drive home from the party. But until it gets a little more get-up-and-go, the TC is likely to remain more alluring from afar.

For as long as I have been writing about cars, Acura, the move-up division of Honda, has been struggling to create an identity for itself.

Part of the problem is its positioning. Unlike Lexus and Infiniti, Acura was never conceived as a full-bore attack on the German luxury carmakers, but rather a step up for Honda buyers. So while Acura markets cars in small, medium, and large sizes, just like the Germans, they are several notches lower in price and prestige.

Another part of the problem is perceived exclusivity. Two-thirds of Acura’s current passenger car lineup is based on the Honda Accord sold in Europe, a heritage that isn’t going to appeal to status seekers. Over the years, Acura’s styling has been appropriately conservative without being distinctive. And its nomenclature is forgettable, with the model range designations going mysteriously from TSX to TL to RL.

So while Acura is three years older than Lexus or Infiniti, it hasn’t been able to use those extra years to establish a higher profile. Even difficult economic conditions haven’t helped, despite Acura’s generally lower price points and superior gas mileage. Its sales have fallen 34% this year, more than its luxury competitors.

A car that could raise Acura’s recognition factor is the TL, the mid-size in the lineup. Powered by a 305-horsepower V-6 and available with a six-speed manual transmission, it has been praised by enthusiasts for its smooth shifting and zesty performance.

I was less impressed. When navigating through a six-speed gearbox, it is helpful to have an indicator of the instrument panel to tell you what gear you are in; Audis do but this Acura did not. The TL also seemed to reward higher-rev shift points than I am accustomed to using. Down in the lower revs, I found myself downshifting frequently on hills despite the reputedly torquey characteristics of the engine

What I did like was the TL’s design: aggressive but not so much as to scare small children. The paint job, in a deep radiant black, sets a standard for this class of car. The interior was as handsome as Honda products ever get, and the instruments were characteristically clear in function and easy to use.

Honda likes to position the TL as a rival for the BMW five-series. With an as-tested price of $44,195, that would make the Acura a bargain. I’d rather think of it as a range-topping Accord with a special appearance package. And I would very much like to test one with an automatic transmission that does the shifting for you to fully appreciate this impressive machine.

In my experience, all proper German cars come in two colors: silver and black. There is a reason for this, as there is in all things German. These colors denote a seriousness of purpose, obliviousness to fashion, and a sticker price that takes your breath away.

But when I asked Mercedes to review an example of its new E-class line, the car I received was not silver or black but red — “Mars Red” in official Mercedes-ese.

I was confused. Was Mercedes trying to send me a message that times are changing at the world’s oldest automaker? Or had all the silver and black cars been snapped up by my competitors at Motor Trend, Edmunds, and Jalopnik?

Let’s review the evidence.

The E-class coupe replaces the two-door in the Mercedes lineup formerly known as the CLK and becomes part of the larger, more expensive E-class line. That’s one change.

Physically, the car harks back to its CLK roots but psychically, its aura has changed. The dimensions of the E-coupe platform are identical to the smaller, less-expensive C-class yet the car has the fittings, feel, and solidity of a larger E-class sedan. You could say the E-coupe merges C-class specifications with E-class ambiance. That’s another change.

My test car, which was equipped with a 5.5-liter, 382 hp V8, bristled with as much muscle as I wanted to handle, and the interior was top shelf. On the road, the coupe displayed the ride and dynamics of an E-class, combined with the handling and fuel economy of a C-class. In Mercedes tradition, comfort and predictability took precedence over razor-sharp reactions.

Fuel economy was impressive. Under the EPA driving cycle, the E-coupe is expected to deliver between 19 mpg and 27 mpg on the highway, and I consistently hit in the high end of the range.

That was good for the environment but not for my bank balance, since the premium grades of gasoline that Mercedes recommends run 10 cents to 20 cents more a gallon than regular.

The final piece of evidence showing that the E-coupe represents new thinking was the price. Mercedes prices its coupes aggressively but this was still a surprise. The base sticker price of the smallish E-coupe is $54,650 , only $1,650 less than the larger E-class sedan.

My car was equipped with the premium package (navi system, upgraded audio, rear view camera), Distronic Plus package (smart cruise control, parking guidance), appearance package (wheels, seats) and the wood/leather steering wheel package.

All together, that pushed up the total retail price to $67,125. That’s a handsome price for a handsome car in these economically distressed times.

By way of comparison, for the same money, you could move up two classes in size and pick up a used S-class sedan — a proper silver or black one.

If General Motors is able to convince the world that it can build cars that people actually want to buy, it has to start with the new models it launches over the next several months. Taxpayers, customers, and journalists all will be watching carefully.

In a sense, the attention is unfair. These are Rick Wagoner cars, planned and developed three years ago under the former CEO. Fritz Henderson cars won’t be coming along until 2012.

Still, GM has been arguing for some time that it builds world-class automobiles; all that’s missing now is its ability to convince convincing customers about the validity of that claim.

The 2010 Buick LaCrosse perfectly illustrates the problem. Stick a Lexus or an Acura label on it, and you would have a competitive car, one you would take on a second honeymoon to Napa Valley.

Let people know it is a Buick, however, and they expect to see it parked in front of Applebee’s for the early-bird special.

Badging aside, the LaCrosse ranks as my favorite GM sedan. Driving around the Detroit area, I was never disappointed.

What did I like about it?

First of all, the price. Even with 18-inch chrome wheels and other options totaling $1,850, the LaCrosse carried a sticker price of just $31,495. That’s a really good value for an entry-luxe mid-size sedan.

Second is the exterior design. With its high belt line, fast sloping rear end, and tasteful chrome accents, the LaCrosse is international in character and American in spirit. I even don’t hate the porthole simulations on the hood.

Third is the interior, bright and classy without being garish. You can argue about the unnecessary stitching, plastic wood, and overly busy instrument stack. But overall I felt comfortable and pampered, without any pandering.

Over the road, the Buick behaves like a large front-wheel sedan for aging baby boomers. Performance from the 3.0 liter V-6 is adequate — 60 mph arrives in eight seconds. For those who want more power, a 3.6 liter V-6 is available. The cabin is well insulated to screen out any unwanted noises. Fuel economy is an acceptable 17 mpg city/26 mpg highway.

For Buick to succeed and GM to prosper, the brand has to attract buyers who bring the average owner age down by a decade from the high 60s. Some better advertising and smarter marketing should do the trick.

With LaCrosse, Buick has the hardware; all it needs now is the image to go with it.

Poison for many manufacturers, the 2009 model year has been an elixir for Subaru. It is one of only two brands (the other is Kia) to show a sales increase this year. In an industry that is off 27.9% for the first eight months, Subaru is up 11.2% and is closing in on Mazda for 11th place in overall U.S. market sales.

Subaru manages all this with just three car lines and one truck (Mazda currently has a total of eight) and in this case focus pays off. The pre-production Legacy sedan I drove recently (Legacies are the top of the Subaru line) looked and felt like a much more expensive car. Base price is $19,995, but even at $24,995 (plus a $695 delivery charge) for my test car, I believe it is a remarkable value.

Subarus used to have a quirky streak, but the all-new mid-size Legacy looks muscular and mainstream without being boring. Inside I felt unusually well looked-after. The cabin was upscale without being fussy and the level of workmanship surprisingly high. All the touch points and instruments were sturdy and functional and unlikely to lose their appeal after years of use.

That’s an important consideration for Subarus. I have a friend who happily putts around in a Legacy wagon that dates from the first Clinton administration. It isn’t particularly stylish, but it is reliable, and he sees no need to replace it.

Like all Subarus, the Legacy comes with standard all-wheel drive and a new CVT transmission that boosts the EPA mileage rating to 23 mpg city/31 highway. That is so good that it beats the rating for the manual gearbox.

Oddly, Subaru provides paddle shifters for gear changes on the CVT, even though the transmission has infinite variability with no fixed gear ratios. I found myself downshifting on hills in order to maintain speed but I needn’t have bothered.

It is a little difficult for me to identify the factors behind Subaru’s success. It has been successfully upgrading its product line, but all manufacturers try to do that. Unlike Kia, Subaru has been building from a solid position to a stronger one, so there’s nothing dramatic there, either. Nor has there been any standout model or eye-catching ad campaign to create buzz.

So attribute Subaru’s success to the company’s unspectacular but highly competent management team, their U.S. headquarters in a Philadelphia suburb well away from the automotive mainstream — and a buying public that, in difficult economic times, knows where to find a good value.

Think of Subaru’s success in 2009 as a victory for common sense.

The minute I climbed into the driver’s seat, I knew: General Motors is getting its mojo back.

It may sound strange, but for a long time GM has felt lost in the product development wilderness. Some of its cars were simply duds. Others, even the ones deemed more successful, like the Chevy Malibu and Cadillac CTS, felt overly thought out and excessively mannered.

GM has been in the car business for 101 years. Why did it seem to have to relearn what it is doing, time and time again?

My Equinox experience was especially notable given my opposite reaction to a similar vehicle, the Cadillac SRX, a few weeks earlier. The SRX felt like it was developed by following the results of focus groups that weren’t coordinated with each other. The result was a mashup of features and functions that didn’t match up.

Not so in the Equinox. Everything is of a piece and seems to fit this midsize crossover. Its controls are all in the right place and function smartly the way they should, and none of the instruments or trim was fighting for my attention.

Likewise, the exterior design was well-resolved and identifiably Chevy, without slopping into the self-referential or overly mannered.

Unfortunately, some of the good feeling abated once I got underway. Although the Equinox came equipped with the optional 264-horsepower V6, it labored going up hills, refusing to shift down until the very last moment.

Would that be a deal-breaker? It depends on the terrain where I expected to drive.

The Equinox competes in a cutthroat segment against Honda’s CR-V and Toyota’s RAV-4. It is up to a foot longer than the competition and weighs several hundred pounds more but carries nine cubic feet less.

As the newest car in the segment, the Equinox is also the priciest. Loaded up with more than $5,000 worth of optional equipment, my test car carried a sticker price of $33,235.

It isn’t the best, and it isn’t cheap, but I consider Equinox competitive in this segment, and it has been a long time since I’ve been able to say that about a non-truck GM product.

The success of the Equinox bodes well for future Chevys due in the next year or so, like the Cruze, Spark, and Volt.

Getting its mojo back would be good for GM and good for the rest of the auto industry. GM should devoutly hope that Equinox is not just one of a kind.

Let’s get it out of the way right at the top: The new convertible version of Aston’s V-12 powered 2+2 grand tourer (with automatic transmission) carries a sticker price of $285,990.

That’s crazy, right, as we struggle to emerge from the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression?

But let’s consider this: The DBS Volante is the most drop-dead gorgeous, most satisfying car I can ever remember driving.

More refined and sophisticated in appearance than a typical Italian supercar, yet more expressive than a Porsche or a Jaguar, the Aston is stunning to look at. Every detail, from the four mesh inserts in the hood and the flared headlamp openings to the carbon fiber door handles is executed with an extra helping of panache that elevates it from the merely attractive to the alluring.

My test car glowed in a hue that Aston endearingly describes as Hardly Green that was both unique and eye-catching, and worked nicely with the brown leather surface coverings.

The view from behind the wheel is no less stunning. The winged Aston emblem dominates the steering wheel, the instruments are finely calibrated, and the Bang and Olufsen audio provides superb fidelity.

Fire up the six-liter engine by inserting the ignition device in its slot, and the Aston barks to life. Onlookers snap to attention. Select a gear by punching one of the traditional Aston dashboard buttons and you are off.

Power arrives smoothly and you can feel the six-speed transmission shifting smoothly up and down through the gears, proceeding so smartly that manual gear changes would be an insult to the software.

My agreement with Aston prohibited me from performance tests like 0-60 acceleration, so I can only report the company’s claim that 62 miles per hour can be reached in 4.3 seconds and top speed is 191 miles per hour.

As for flaws, I can identify but two: The carbon fiber chin spoiler is so close to the ground that it inhibits travel over rough surfaces, and the trunk is too tight to accept a bag of golf clubs.

But practicality isn’t the point here. Like a fine watch, the DBS Volante represents an ambitious expression of the mechanical arts.

For those who can afford to indulge such pleasures, and who can accommodate a Volante in their fleet of automobiles, it is an entirely worthy addition.

I would consider it a modern-day classic, for which paying the unreal sticker price is merely part of the pleasure of ownership.

Jaguar is at another turning point in its storied and eventful history. It is operating under a new owner, Tata Motors of India, while it launches models developed under its old owner, Ford.

The global economic downturn hasn’t been kind to Jaguar but it hasn’t impacted its product cycle either. Coming soon to dealers is the XF-R, a supercharged version of the midsize sedan, and an all-new XJ — the Jaguar flagship.

The model under review, the XK-R, has also been reworked for 2010. The spiritual, if not functional, successor to the historic XK-E, this two-plus-two features a new supercharged V-8 engine that puts out 510 horsepower and hustles the coupe to 60 miles per hour in a reported 4.6 seconds — should you have an opportunity to exercise it in that fashion.

The interior has been made over as well, with instruments and a silver rotary gear selector adapted from the XF. The gear selector has been criticized by some as too gimmicky, but I found it more ergonomically suitable than the dashboard mounted switches that the German luxury car makers have been experimenting with.

Historically, Jaguars have been among the most esthetically-pleasing (if not mechanically accomplished) cars on the road, and, for me, the XK-R is one of the Jag’s greatest hits. There isn’t a false note or awkward line on it, and the overall shape, with the long hood and suavely tapered rear, is enormously appealing.

The car drove the way it looks, smoothly and effortlessly. The level of intensity it required entirely depended on the demands made by the driver. All of its power and dynamic capability waited unobtrusively until it was requested.

The price for this élan is not insignificant. With 20” wheels and special paint, the total suggested retail price on my car came to $102,000. For those whose lives can accommodate what is basically a two-seat hatchback, and have the means at their disposal to afford it, the XK-R is a worthy investment.

Jags are still made in the U.K. and still source most of their parts from the British homeland. So those who turn up their noses at the idea of this fine old marque under Indian ownership have no substantive issues on which to base their bias.

Yet, as Tata, which bought Jaguar in 2008, enters Western markets for the first time, it is faced with a significant challenge. It has inherited a piece of automobile history that has been buffed to a high sheen by its previous owner. It remains to be seen what Tata make of the automotive heritage with which it has been entrusted.

For the first time since the aero-shaped original made its debut in 1985, the Ford Taurus has become big news again.

There are three important reasons why:

1.    This is the first new Ford to reflect the input of CEO Alan Mulally.

2.    This is the first new Ford to arrive since the company forsook government assistance and still dodged bankruptcy — unlike General Motors and Chrysler.

3.     The 2010 Taurus represents the latest American entry into the full-size car segment where Detroit needs to stake a new claim if it is to regain credibility in the marketplace.

From an engineering and design standpoint, the Taurus is a success. It is stylish, contemporary, and functional. But it will face fierce competition because it is relatively large, relatively heavy, and relatively expensive.

The original Taurus was a middleweight that contended for the most popular car crown with Accord and Camry, and in some years sold around 400,000 units.

The 2010 Taurus is a heavyweight (more than 4,000 pounds), which goes against other full-size vehicles such as the Toyota Avalon and Chrysler 300. Ford (F) would like to sell just 80,000 a year.

The new Taurus has more bling than the old one, including extraneous vents in the front fenders and a superfluous character line on the flanks. The new lower profile is a plus and the Taurus has a raked stance that makes it look faster when it is parked.

The interior is first-class all the way: high-grade materials, smart layout, highly visible controls. Following Mulally’s dictate that all Fords have similar driver interfaces, the Taurus also comes with Formula One-style, steering-wheel mounted gear shift flippers, perhaps not needed for a car mostly driven by patrons of the Early Bird dinner. Electronic navigation features, like blind-spot detection in the rearview mirrors, are extremely helpful and should be standard equipment for everybody.

On the road, the Taurus drives like a big car. The chassis feels like it is made out of rebar and the chunky seats wouldn’t be out of place in a men’s club. My test car suffered from a ticklish accelerator pedal but otherwise purred on the highway, without ever suggesting it was interested in anything athletic. Its trusty 3.6L Duratec V-6 delivered 22 miles per gallon in mostly highway driving. Those craving excitement are advised to seek out the SHO, with its 3.5L turbocharged V-6.

With delivery charges, my ingot silver metallic test car carried a base price of $31,170 that rose to $38,080 with a couple of options. The 2010 Taurus isn’t going to ignite the world the way its ancestor did, but it should draw some shoppers back to Ford showrooms. If they postpone their visit until next year, they will see some more eagerly-awaited new Fords, like the Focus and Fiesta.

For a mid-summer run on the Berkshire back roads to a Saturday evening performance by the Boston Symphony at Tanglewood, it would be difficult to beat my TTS roadster. The top was down, the stereo was pumping out classical tunes from Sirius satellite radio, and the brilliant red TTS was the best looking car on the road — though not so good looking as to attract the attention of any Massachusetts state police, who were anyway otherwise engaged directing concert-going traffic.

The “S” designation identifies the sport version of the well-known TT roadster. An $8,200 bump in the base price gets you a pumped-up version of Audi’s 2.0 liter turbocharged engine that puts out 265 horsepower (vs. 200 hp in the TT) as well as a host of appearance features like 19-inch 7 twin-spoke wheels. Audi doesn’t make any ugly cars, and the front end, with a body-colored bar bisecting the iconic horseshoe grille, is the brand’s best looking.

The Quattro all-wheel drive system keeps the TTS planted through the tightest curves, and acceleration at higher revs is impressive. There is one important performance exception, though: The turbo is slow to spool up at low engine turns, creating sponginess underfoot and uncertainty before you attain cruising speed. I eventually discovered that a slow, even throttle advancement produced better results than an impulsive stab. But I missed the feeling of power under pedal I remember from a Porsche Boxster.

With its stubby but refined bubble shape, the TT is a modern design classic whose looks are only improved in this latest version. And thank goodness Audi didn’t follow BMW by adding a power retractable hardtop. The TTS’s convertible fabric roof is as tight as it needs to be and raises and lowers in seconds, never impinging, needless to say, on the surprisingly commodious trunk.

Owning a TT is a very special experience these days. Only 951 new ones changed hands during the first half of the year, only a fraction of those were roadsters, and only a fraction of THOSE were ”S” roadsters. The $55,075 sticker price for my test car gives you one big clue why. Still, there is nothing else quite like it on the road, and I can begin to justify the purchase to myself if I think about it as an investment, like a mechanical Swiss watch, to be handed down to future generations.

If that proves inadequate, I can always plan more trips to Tanglewood.

It is rare that the appearance of a car isn’t diminished by the addition of a retractable hardtop roof. The storage requirements for all that metal and machinery usually dictate a wider and higher rear end than is esthetically desirable. Check out the Chrysler Sebring convertible for an especially egregious example.

Not so with the newly grown-up Z4, which may be the best-looking BMW of all. Its tightly-tailored butt is balanced by a long, long front end, with attractive accent lines on the flanks. The effect is to create a modern car with classic proportions. Think pre-war Mille Miglia.

The Z4 interior closes the deal. It combines intelligent functionality and helpful info-graphics with a stylish touch not seen in earlier models, which to my eye were obsessively Spartan.

The Z4’s good looks are combined with stylish road matters. My test car was powered by a 3.0 liter, 255-horsepower inline-six. (The 300 horsepower twin-turbo six is also available). With the automatic transmission, the 3.0 is reported to get the car to 60 miles per hour in six seconds flat. The steering is typically precise, and the suspension produces a nice blend between a sporty ride and one that is comfortable. Mileage is a none-to-shabby 19 miles per gallon city/29 mpg highway.

All of this excellence comes at a price, both financially and functionally. While the base price of the Z4 is $45,750, my test model with the smaller engine came in at nearly $60,000, which included $500 for heated front seats and $350 for a high-definition radio.

That helps explain why Z4 sales are less than robust: BMW sold 361 in July. By comparison, it sold 427 X6s and 807 7 series.

Then there is the matter of trunk space. You’d never get a bag of golf clubs into the trunk of a Z4, but with the top down, you’d have a hard time even squeezing in a shaving kit. That puts a limit on the places you’ll go.

Sadly, the combination of price and space limits the appeal of the Z4 to a very small number of owners. Too bad. A car this good deserves a wider audience. Perhaps this leaves an opening for BMW to bring back the old cloth topped, four-cylinder Z3, with a smaller price tag and more room in the rear.

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….