Lexus has gone green. That’s right. The Japanese luxury automaker’s website encourages actual and potential customers to explore eco-design and hybrid living. Meditative Asian music and beautiful nature photographs accompany the explanation: “Hybrid Living explores new ideas of how we can experience our lives in such a way that minimizes our impact on earth without sacrificing comfort and luxury.” Kinda makes me want to fire-up an incense stick, slip on some sandals and go for a slow Sunday afternoon drive in an ecologically-tuned Lexus. But my inner cynic won’t let me enjoy the ride. Despite Lexus’ posturing, the two-and-a-half ton LS600hL doesn’t run on herbal tea and happy thoughts.

My wife struggles with two automotive tasks: finding her destination and maneuvering the car into a parking space. (Locating a parking space is another issue, but why make her sound any more spatially challenged than she is?) The only voice my wife follows without question emanates from her car’s navigation system. So, issue number one sorted. Until now, she has endured her parking problem by opting for garages or HUGE spots. When she heard about the Lexus LS’ new automated parking system, she sent me to the dealer to check it out.

Coupes should be firm flagships and style vanguards: the best of a brand. Where does that leave Lexus, a marque best known for… reliability? With the Lexus SC430. The folding-roofed Lexus coupe is the second oldest model in Lexus' portfolio of pomp. For a company [relentlessly] pursuing perfection, that would make the SC430 the most imperfect car Lexus sells.

Driving a Mercedes E63 AMG just prior to testing the Lexus LS 460 was a big mistake. The German and Japanese machines define the opposite poles of the luxury sedan spectrum. The E63 is for driving enthusiasts. The LS 460 is for people who hate cars. 

As part of the evaluative process, I cracked open the ES350's owner’s manual. Check it: there’s a "Lemon Law Guide" to help customers find legal recourse should their Lexus fail to, well, anything. Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to be a particularly useful part of the program. After all, under its swanky skin, the Lexus ES350 is little more than a reliable, durable and, let’s face it, forgettable Toyota Camry. Does that make the ES350 an example of the kind of badge-engineering that this site regularly condemns as lazy, cynical and brand corrosive? No, no and yes.

Remember the dorky kid who aced college, landed a great job, maybe even got married, but still never got a firm grasp on how to enjoy life’s rich tapestry? That’s the Lexus GS450h. For all its hybrid gee-whiz engineering, swanky trimmings and performance credentials, the Lexus GS450h is only really a great idea on paper. Sure, it’s got lower emissions, less fuel consumption than its petrol-powered equivalent and significantly more performance. But the Lexus Hybrid is a genius in dire need of a spiritual advisor.

The styling tells the story with its bold lines, broad shoulders and stunning lack of attention to detail. Up front, the GS’ trapezoidal grille– flanked by ovoid lenses and rhombus-like headlights– inflict geometric overkill on an otherwise cetacean canvas. Sadly, the GS' tall frame kills an otherwise sporting profile; everything south of the beltline looks obese and clumsy. Fortunately, multi-spoke 18" hoops with chrome accents help avert your eyes from the plump yet stunted posterior with its B-movie bug-eyed taillights. Clearly, the "L-Finesse" GS needs Giorgio Giugiaro’s loving hands.

In contrast, the GS’ interior is a symphony of chrome, leather, ebony wood and white LED accents. The cockpit’s squidgy polymers and tastefully arranged switchgear offer the automotive equivalent of a relaxing swim in an edgeless pool. In Audi and Lexus' sybaritic showdown, the Japanese automaker is gradually pulling ahead. For example, while the A8 serves-up an exquisite dash and console combo, Lexus' cohesive design motif delivers a perfectly layered, multi-dimensional gestalt. Audi’s dash may seem like it was carved from a single piece of granite, but Lexus’ seems lovingly sculpted from the same stone.

The GS’ sensuous wood and leather tiller alludes to the brand’s trademark perfectionism. Smoked disco ball gauge faces add a bit of visual excitement to the borderline OCD. The Mark Levinson beatbox adds brilliant highs, life-like middles and full-bodied lows– setting the new standard for factory tunes. The GS’ ventilated hides keep the backside cool, but finding the right fan speed involves one too many menus via the (otherwise excellent) touch-screen Navigation system. And that’s where the GS450h picture starts to lose focus.

Check out the mileage on the Lexus hybrid’s information screen. In urban stop/start duty, the GS’ gas engine kicks in frequently and abruptly, taking over from the batteries. With the Levinson blasting and the A/C cranked, the GS450h's mileage never once threatened to get out of the lower twenties. Lower the A/C, hit the open road, set the cruise control to 65mph and you’re looking at… 25mpg. This is not what a Prius driver would call a hybrid halo car. OK, so the Lexus is a “performance hybrid.” All is forgiven, right?

If you’re a straight line junkie, yes. Acceleration is muscle car brisk. Hit the GS’ gas from a standstill and the torque-rich electric motor satisfies with a shove in the seat and a hum under the bonnet. After a brief powerband intermission, the CVT transmission throws the rev-happy 3.5-liter V6 in the mix, facilitating 0-60 runs that last a scant 5.2 seconds. Keep your foot in the juice and the CVT pushes the engine closer to redline, catapulting the GS down the highway.

Now, throw a corner at the GS and you’ll understand why Lexus won’t let you give the electronic Nanny the afternoon off. Everything's peachy at 70% effort. The sedan’s delightfully firm steering, solid chassis and buttoned-down suspension let you run the hybrid through the twisties like an equivalent Bimmer. Push harder and the various subsystems start to fight for control. The traction control incorrectly modulates the finicky powerband, inducing all-you-can-eat buffet levels of understeer, triggering stability control. Diehard pistonheads are done before they begin. 

The large disc brakes feel a bit touchy– charged as they are with regenerating power as well as curbing momentum– but they stop the “fun” with genuine conviction. Unfortunately, dropping anchor at speed induces massive nosedive, which dramatically increases the chances of an understeer slide. Worst of all, the flawed underpinnings throw the famous Lexus ride in the trash, shaking the rearview mirror at every pothole. The 40-series tires take most of the blame, transmitting every surface imperfection directly to one's posterior. Top it off with a Porsche-sized cargo hole and the GS Hybrid's synergies seem less than entirely appealing.

Forget about the GS450h’s poor ride/handling balance (if possible) and consider the model’s real competition: the superb V8-powered GS430. Lexus’ gas-only model offers a perfectly linear powerband, a world-class autobox, 400lbs less in tow, better handling and a bigger trunk. The penalty: three to five miles less travel per gallon of gas and no planet saving feel-good factor. Like the childhood genius who struck it rich, the GS450h proves that appearances can be deceiving. Whether you’re a hybrid sedan or a Geek, developing genuine character is a bitch. 

[Lexus provided the vehicle reviewed, insurance, taxes and a tank of gas.] 

While it's often said you can't be all things to all people, someone forgot to tell Toy Yoda. While GM, Ford and The Dodge Boys are still trying to gentrify their rough-and-ready SUV's into cultured outdoorsmen (before urbanites abandon their automotive Wellingtons), the Japanese automaker took a light saber to traditional SUV demographics, sliced them into pieces and built a vehicle appealing to every single [up]market segment at the same time. No question: the force is with this one. Powerful it is too.

Ironically, the RX 400h is not Lexus' most cohesive design. From head-on it resembles a baby elephant: all legs and a tiny, short body. From the side, the strangely kinked C-pillars and double quarter-windows are a self-conscious attempt to give the standard SUV box some sedan-like horizontality. The blacked-out rear roof spoiler proclaims sport, while the nanodetailed LED taillights say insect. The RX 400h's aesthetic appeal resides in the details, like the gorgeously crafted adaptive headlights and backlit company emblems in all four doorsills. And, lest we forget, there's the ultimate badge of honor: the little 'h' on the boot badge proclaiming your intention to use less fossil fuel, keep the globe cool and avoid red meat (providing there's a suitable salad option).

Jinking through traffic somewhere above the ton, it quickly became apparent that the Lexus IS 350 wasn't the ideal car for the job. The erstwhile sports sedan bumped and jiggled over surface imperfections like a tied-down tunermobile. It rolled through directional transitions like a luxobarge, helming with unacceptable imprecision and unwelcome lean. While the powerplant provided more than enough shove for the work at hand, the IS 350's dynamics drew a definitive line between "doable" and "enjoyable." If further proof were needed that I was in the wrong car at the wrong speed, the BMW M3 keeping pace provided it.

After a few polite lead exchanges, the M3 dropped the hammer and disappeared. I rejected the idea of visiting V-Max. The IS 350's 3.5-liter V6 holsters a surprising percentage of the mighty M3's oomph (at a fraction of the price), but it's no Bimmer beater. More specifically, maxxing-out a 3-Series anything is like gently drifting through the tunnel of love, compared to the baby Lexus' Autobahn of Doom stunt show. What upmarket motorist needs THAT kind of excitement? Indeed, why would anyone suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous ride and handling when any number of similarly priced cars offer a more pleasurable driving experience?

Generally speaking, I'm not partial to cars that remind me of death. But I respect Lexus for selling a model lineup that keeps faith with their "luxury car as mobile mausoleum" brand heritage. That said, the Japanese automaker's sensory deprivation shtick has taken a couple of major hits since the debut of the LS400, in the form of leathered-up, badge-engineered Toyotas. But the "new" GS300 is a far more worrying development: a bespoke model that turns its back on everything that made The Big L successful in the first place.

Visually, that's a good thing. The new GS300 represents a bold and beautiful break from Lexus' amorphous aesthetic. The four-door's front end seems a bit of an 8-Series crib, and the rear is as confused as an absinthe drinker, but the GS300's hunkered stance and nose-heavy proportions project a genuine sense of aggression. The rear pillars are especially wikkid, and the swageless sides add a statement of streamlined modernity. If ever a car promised to give the BMW 530i a decent run for the money– and quite a lot of money it is too– the GS300 is it.

The Lexus GX470 is a poster child for SUV haters: huge exterior, cramped interior, hippo handling and mileage figures so low they make an M1 tank look frugal. For those who care about such things, the fact that the GX470 qualifies as an Ultra-Low Emissions Vehicle doesn't alter its planet-killing profile. For those who couldn't care less, the GX470 offers at least one good reason to piss off your PC neighbors (providing that's not enough reason in and of itself): off road prowess.

The GX470 is a fantastically capable four-by-four. It sports all the structural strength and traction control doo-dads you need to trammel the road less traveled. Hill Assist Control stops the SUV from sliding backwards on steep inclines. Downhill Assist Control modulates engine and wheel braking to avoid nose-diving in the opposite direction. And if that's not enough to help you boldly go where TV ads have gone before, the GX470 also has full-time all-wheel-drive, a limited slip diff, rear air suspension and enough ground clearance to mount a MINI. I couldn't find a single hill, rut or rock that could ruffle the 470's mechanical feathers.