A Buick: At Last.

If I was marketing the Lucerne, that’s the line, or one like it, that I would use.  Assuming there is something to be said for heritage—and I think there is—then the Lucerne delivers (at last) on the promise of a solid, stylish American sedan.

And if I have a quibble about the car, it’s that it shamelessly trades on a design cue of days gone by in a way that, perhaps, sends the wrong message: the fake port holes in the front quarter panels.  Yes, they are park of Buick’s “design vocabulary,” but “forsooth” is part of the English vocabulary, and I don’t now of anyone outside of a Shakespearean troupe that needs to bust out with that term.

To build a better car, Buick started with the underpinnings of the Cadillac DTS.  That’s right: this Buick is based on a Cadillac, and if there is any line of cars from any maker that has shown itself to be, for the most part, free of having anything to apologize for, it’s Cadillac.  They’ve started from a good place.

But this leads to another issue.  If you’ve seen the TV ads for the Lucerne, you’ve heard that they’re making a comparison with the Lexus ES 330.  The Lucerne is available with a V8, a 275-hp, 4.6-liter mill.  The ES doesn’t have a V8.  But that’s missing the point.  No one is likely to cross-shop those cars.  Remember: Buick is a classic American brand, and those who are thinking about a Lexus are more likely to consider Infiniti or Acura.  Buick needs to concentrate on Lincoln and Chrysler, not Lexus.

One point that is made in that ad that is borne out in performance is the fact that this car is as quiet as a vault.  OK, maybe not that quiet, but you’d be hard-pressed to find another car that envelopes you in a rolling cone of silence.  Couple that with the optional Magnetic Ride Control (it uses magnetic particles in a conductive fluid that adjusts the shock in the blink of an eye) and you’re riding silent and smooth—yet you don’t get the sensation of Buicks of Before, where the portholes were appropriate because the car wallowed like some sea-faring conveyance .

A point in the ad that isn’t entirely reflective, is that while the car does, indeed, start at $25,990 (MSRP), that’s not the version with the V8.  The base MSRP for the CXL with the V8—and with a four-speed automatic, which is not exactly competitive with cars nowadays: heck, a Camry is available with a six-speed automatic—is $30,265, and with the heated and cooled seats, etc., etc., etc., you’re bumping $36K, which strikes me as Cadillac territory: the DTS starts at $41,990, which makes the Lucerne a bargain, but the CTS starts at $29,990, so isn’t there a bit of pricing conflict here?

Inside, the gauges are clear and simple and the materials, for the most part, are appropriate.  One problem is that I had a cream-colored interior and while there was a leather seating surface, the sides of the seat were cloth, which isn’t a particularly good material to be right next to the cupholders in the center console: Think mixing coffee and cream—not good.

Assessment: Wouldn’t you really rather have a Buick?  Perhaps now you would.