One of the most memorable vehicles in the history of the automobile is the Auburn Speedster. Built in Auburn, Indiana, the body was as narrow as the frame rails below it, the pontoon fenders swelled in aerodynamic teardrops around the tall spoked wheels, and the sleek body was punctuated by a graceful "boat tail" in the back. It was elegant, beautiful and sexy, but it was not enough to keep E.L. Cord, chairman of the Auburn-Cord-Duesenberg combine, from closing the factory doors in 1936, a victim of the Great Depression.

Chrysler has been to the brink a number of times, and has often done its greatest work when its back was up against the wall. The most recent work to resuscitate the brand put Mercedes parts under a Chrysler-shaped interior and exterior. The result is the Crossfire, and it is nothing less than the spiritual successor the legendary Auburn Speedster.

The Crossfire also is one of the industry's best-kept secrets. Blessed with a body that is at once unique, elegant and sexy, the Crossfire isn't sitting on dealer lots because it's ugly. It has a taut, Art Deco theme with distinct rear haunches and a hint of a boat tail, "speed lines" on the hood's surface, and a raised spine that runs along the centerline of the vehicle - inside and out. Some of the detailing - the plastic side vents come to mind - is slightly overwrought, but the overall design is nothing less than stunning. It doesn't have a bad exterior angle.

From the inside, however, the thick rear pillars limit over-the-shoulder visibility. (Pulling out of parking spots is a chore best done with care.) And the low roof, coupled with the cozy interior, gives a gun-slit feel to the side windows, though no more so than Audi's TT. The car was fast-tracked by the late (as in "I used to work for DaimlerChrysler") Wolfgang Bernhard, which explains the Crossfire's heavy reliance on Mercedes SLK parts. The idea was to give the Chrysler brand an icon that signaled its move upmarket, but still kept it below Mercedes. (E.L. Cord's playbook must be making the rounds in Auburn - there's that name again - Hills.)

Basing the Crossfire on the SLK made it easy for Chrysler engineers to get the car into production, but also saddled it with some of that car's shortcomings. The most obvious is size. To put it into perspective, the Crossfire has a wheelbase nearly 10-in. shorter than Nissan's 350Z. It's also the same amount shorter overall. The Crossfire is a cozy, not cramped, car, but it would be nice to not have to choose between how far you push the seat back on its tracks, and how far you recline the seat before coming into contact with the substantial rear bulkhead.

There are other areas where a clean sheet would have helped. For example, the sliver plastic that runs down the center of the instrument panel and across the top of the console comes in contact with the shift lever of the six-speed manual every time the lower gears - second, fourth or sixth - are chosen. Stir the gears briskly, and the contact is marked by a sharp "thwack" unbecoming a sports/luxury coupe, especially one costing $34,620. In addition, the clutch take-up is a bit lazy, starting more than a quarter of the way through the pedal travel and finishing with a flourish as the pedal nears the end of its travel. This makes grabbing gears in a hurry a bit clunkier than expected. Also, there is no dead pedal that can be used to brace your lower body in hard cornering. Chrysler seems to think the heavily bolstered seats will do that job, but it - like so many other automakers - seem to forget that the seat can only do so much to keep a passenger in place, and that the bulk of the bolstering should be around the rib cage - the center of gravity for the upper body when seated. Mild bolsters combined with a properly placed dead pedal are best for holding the lower body in place.

I could go on about the inability to heel-and-toe during downshifts because the brake and throttle pedals are too far apart. Or mention the useless cup holder that grasps a small or medium drink in a death grip, places it dead-center with the driver's elbow, and rises above the surrounding interior pieces. (Placing drinks in the lidded storage area between the seats is a recipe for a messy "Coke float.") Then there are the window switches that operate counter-intuitively: pressing the upper half of the button lowers the windows and vice versa. But nit picking - which is what this critique quickly would descend into - would give the impression that the Crossfire is a fatally flawed car when it is not.

In fact, the Crossfire shines in two areas beyond other than its stunning good looks. First, despite riding on 18-in. front and 19-in. rear tires, each carrying tires with sidewalls about as thick as licorice whips, the ride is not unduly harsh. In most instances, it is surprisingly compliant. (Most of the chop on rough surfaces is attributable to tuning compromises made due to the short wheelbase.) Second, the Crossfire returned an average of 24 mpg in predominately highway driving. This is within striking distance of its 25 mpg highway EPA rating (the city number is 17 mpg) despite a good bit of spirited driving.

Why the Crossfire remains one of the best kept secrets on the planet is anybody's guess. Part of the reason could be that Chrysler's move upmarket has sped ahead of the brand's image, and the dealer network's ability to cater to potential Crossfire customer. Another could be the mixed messages that arose out of the recently dropped "American design, German engineering" ad campaign. (Judging from the number of Crossfires seen in the roads of Berlin, Frankfurt and Hamburg recently, this campaign has had greater resonance with Germans than Americans.) Whatever the ultimate reason, I can only hope the Crossfire lives a longer, happier life than its spiritual predecessor.