First Drive: Lexus RC
Sector: Coupé Price: £34,995–£40,495 Fuel: 38.7–57.6mpg CO2: 113–168g/km
Most cars are styled by attaching a corporate grille to the results of a focus group. The Lexus RC wasn’t. The Lexus RC was styled by a rebel with a fag hanging out of his gob and a questionable attitude to corporate appraisals.
The result is that the Lexus RC balances very precariously on that thin, Marmite-smeared line between stunning and OTT; some will wish to immediately tear off the plastic strakes behind the rear wheel arches, for example.
For those in the former camp that think this is concept-car-for-the-road stuff, the RC’s problematic packaging won’t really matter. That’s a package lacking a diesel option, lacking rear space, and distinctly lacking boot capacity.
No diesel is a problem Lexus continues to believe is solved by the petrol-electric hybrid setup, which is why it believes 80% of UK RC sales will go to the 113-116g/km RC 300h, rather than the 168g/km 2.0-litre turbo petrol 200t that completes the range.
The problem, however, is that using a hybrid to get broadly similar BiK, mpg and CO2 as a four-cylinder diesel remains unnecessarily over-complex, creating problems where there needn’t be any.
As well as eating into boot space (340 litres in the 300h vs. 374 in the petrol and 445 in a BMW 4 Series), the hybrid drivetrain adds weight (1,736kg, where a 420d Coupe is 1,505kg), and foists a life-sapping CVT gearbox upon proceedings.
The result is a £35k car with 220bhp from a four-cylinder turbo petrol engine and electric motor, but that feels like a mid-level family hatchback would smoke it in a straight line. And for all the 8.6 seconds it takes to reach the 62mph benchmark, the driver is dealing with an incessant CVT whine.
Start turning corners and it’s not a great deal of fun either, with over-light steering and a general sense of heaviness hampering what does fundamentally feel like a well-balanced rear-wheel drive chassis.
Handling improves in the 200t, which ditches the hybrid setup entirely and places a 241bhp turbo four-cylinder petrol in the nose, sending power to the rear wheels through a conventional eight-speed transmission.
Predictably, this version steers, rides and performs better, but there’s the 168g/km emissions and associated residual value hit, which from a fleet perspective makes it a non-starter.
Each of the three-tier trim range (Luxury, F Spot, Premier) will make the average German SE-spec coupe driver feel distinctly under-equipped: leather, automatic gearbox, 18-inch wheels, front and rear parking sensors, colour media screen and dual-zone air conditioning.
Adjusted for kit the RC looks great value against the German brands. Plus, what we didn’t mention before is that the hybrid's 80% share of RC sales equates to just 600 UK cars. By comparison, BMW registered 24,000 4 Series sales in 2015 and Audi sold 12,000 A5s.
Which means that, discounting a retail miracle, to choose an RC is to choose a drop in the ocean: genuine exclusivity. In this sector, with these looks, that might just be worth more than all the flaws.
Verdict:
Not really a sporty coupe nor a necessarily luxurious one, the RC’s appeal is more a combination of its unmistakeable looks, low speed refinement and high equipment levels.