When an automaker introduces a slew of new products in a
12-month period, there will undoubtedly be a few products that
will fail. Chrysler has been proudly proclaiming (like a broken
record) the success of many of its new products over the past
year, most notably the 300, Dodge Magnum and Charger. And while
those rightly belong in the success category, there is one
product that Chrysler must put on the other side of the ledger:
the Jeep Commander.
The Commander is the only flop in Chrysler’s massive new
product line-up for the ’06 model year. Chrysler’s senior
management evidently saw what they thought would be an ideal
opportunity to make additional cash with little additional
investment by taking the respected Jeep Grand Cherokee platform,
expanding it a bit and adding a third row to fill a noticeable
void in the Jeep lineup. While that sounds like a no-brainer,
the Commander is a clear example of how good intentions can go
awry.
The problems start with the Commander’s exterior styling,
which lacks harmony. I’ll never forget being at Chrysler’s
Arizona proving grounds several
months ago to get a preview of the Commander, and when the SUV
came around the corner, a collective groan overcame the throaty
roars of SRTs that were screaming on the nearby test track.
That’s not a good sign. Commander’s design goes off course right
at the front fascia, where the headlamps are an odd combination
of rounded inserts in a square clear lens cover. This leads to
the obvious question: What the hell does this vehicle want to be,
modern or rugged? I have no idea. The confusion continues with
the faux Alan wrench bolts that flank the trapezoidal wheel
wells. Finally, the rear fascia seems to be copied from the LR3,
although with bad execution. Jeep designers try to defend the
Commander by saying it takes cue from the long-lost Cherokee, as
well as the Liberty and Wrangler. Well, it
doesn’t work.
It doesn’t get any better inside, where the faux fasteners
seem to hold the instrument panel in place. The top of the
dashboard goes on for miles and miles because of the upright
angle of the windshield. The power seat adjustment levers are
buried so far down that you have to open the driver’s side door
to adjust them, while the optional navigation system is
anti-intuitive as you have to continually push the tiny little
“enter” button to input each and every letter of the street and
city name, a major pain when contrasted with the touch screen
systems available in many other vehicles. Moving through the rest
of the cabin continues to elicit complaints, especially the third
row seating, which is basically unusable for average-sized
adults. One Chrysler exec told me during the Arizona
preview that Dieter Zetsche himself actually sat back in the
third row seat and found it quite comfortable (I find that pretty
hard to believe unless he sat there for only 5 seconds).
Utilizing the rear space for a third row also eliminates much of
the storage capacity in the rear of the Commander. Sure, you can
have seven passengers, but they better not bring more than a pair
of underwear and socks for the trip or one of them is going to
have to walk.
Where the Commander does score major points is in ride and
handling. Riding over rickety railroad tracks at 45 mph
displayed the excellent isolation of the suspension, while daily
commuting was pleasurable. During my test Michigan
was blanketed with six-plus inches of snow, and the Commander
plowed through the white stuff with no problem; even the pile of
snow left at the bottom of my driveway by my local DPW was no
match for the Commander. Likewise, the 5.7-liter HEMI (with the
fuel sipping multi-displacement system) was impressive when it
came to available passing power and overall fuel economy. Still,
there’s no getting past the ugly and confusing exterior and
interior, along with the compromises that come with using the
third row seat, to make the Commander a consideration for any
true full-size SUV buyer.