Volvo’s S60 is the best rendition yet of the “non-box” design
theme begun under design director Peter Horbury. It has a
surprisingly sleek roofline, a raised center body section that
creates definite “shoulders” at the windowsills, exceptionally
large taillights, and a low nose. All very modern. All very
non-Volvo.
A German maker, or even an American car company, would have
taken the opportunity to tweak the formula even more. The nose
would be more distinct, perhaps to the point of caricature. The
same with the tail. And the body sides would lack the slight Coke
bottle sweep that add a subtle character to what might otherwise
have been a bland expanse. Doing this would have removed the
elemental “Swedishness” that makes the S60 the unique vehicle it
is, but it might also have given the car some of the character it
seems to lack.
There was an interesting split among those who rode in the
car. Some said it felt like the $40,000 car it so nearly was
(as-driven price: $33,375). Other thought it to be a high-priced
Ford Taurus with little rear seat leg room. Both were right.
The most impressive thing about the S60 is its solidity. Many
vehicles have been described as “bank vaults”, but the S60
actually feels this safe and strong – without also feeling
overweight, lethargic, or slow. That’s a pretty strong (no pun
intended) base on which to build a sport sedan, and Volvo makes a
game try of it. Unfortunately, the idea of a “sport sedan” in
Sweden must be a little different than it is in other parts of
the world. The five-cylinder engine (197 hp, 210 lb.-ft. of
torque) has a distinctive “moan” under acceleration, and produces
sufficient – but not scintillating – thrust when coupled to the
five-speed automatic gearbox. Of note is the fact that this
powertrain is transversely mounted and drives all four wheels;
there’s not a longitudinal engine driving either the rear wheels
or all four as in other European sport sedans. This gives the S60
a unique technical character, better packaging – though back seat
travelers might disagree – and more weight over the nose.
That extra weight implies a heavy, sluggish helm, but the S60
has commendably light – but not effortless – steering and decent
turn-in and tracking. Unfortunately, under brisk driving
conditions it’s apparent that the great god Understeer has the
final say in the proceedings. Volvo might want to consider
dialing out a good bit of the understeer it has programmed into
the rear suspension, and tune the front end more carefully. And,
while the engineers are at it, the car will need a rethink of the
front-to-rear roll couple and damper valving.
Without these changes, the S60 earns the “Taurus” sobriquet
for there is little to distinguish the sporty Swede from more
prosaic offerings. (It should be noted, however, that the Taurus
would do well to emulate the S60’s current dynamic capabilities.)
This is reinforced by the large, unadorned expanses inside the
car, about which some commented that Volvo had taken clean,
minimalist design to the extreme, removing from the instrument
panel in particular all signs of character. A bit harsh, perhaps,
but not totally off the mark, though it’s hard to imagine what –
other than a material change or different appliqué – might be
done to rectify the situation. One area where this minimalism is
appreciated is the sound system. There are no station buttons,
just a large knob that the user turns to move up or down the
dial. Another controls the media selection, whether it be the
radio (AM or FM), CD, or cassette player. Very nice.
All-in-all, the S60 proved itself to be a faithful driving
companion and solid partner. If you view car ownership like a
marriage, this is an alluring combination. However, be prepared
to find yourself in a routine long before you expect. It’s like
looking for a car that reminds you of the Swedish exchange
student that lived with your family when you were a kid, and
coming home with a really nice Mercury.