If there is one area where Audi stands head-and-shoulders
above the competition, it’s design. The exterior surfaces
of the A4 are very taut, very controlled. The wheel arches swell
just enough to cover the tires, and appear to stretch the
surrounding sheetmetal over an unseen form beneath. From some
angles, the bumpers disappear from view, giving the impression of
a hot rod with rolled pans where the bumpers used to be. Only the
grille stands out as an unresolved form, its stern visage
familiar but uninspired.
Inside, the A4 is less adventurous. The instruments are ringed
with bright trim, but the effect detracts more than it adds, in
part because of the derivative looks of the entire instrument
cluster. Derivative, that is, of Audi designs currently in
production. The same can be said of the shapes and forms found
throughout the interior, as if the thesis was to bring the A4
more in line with its bigger brothers than to set a new direction
for the rest to follow.
The gearshift on the six-speed manual version I drove was
trimmed in aluminum and leather, felt light and reasonably
precise, and only headed toward the wrong slot when rushed
through the gate in a “boy racer” frenzy. But it
didn’t feel special. It imparted very little information
about the vehicle itself, or the conditions facing the
drivetrain, and lacked personality. It also got the worst of the
cup holder situation.
For a vehicle that has been redesigned inside and out, the A4
has a few odd quirks. Most apparent were the cupholders. One sits
high and hidden in the dash face, coming out only when summoned
by a push on its face. It’s the same cupholder found
on other Audis. Certain one is not enough – and it
never is – Audi added a pair of beverage holders in the
center console. Only using them means propping the lid open, and
reaching around them to shift gears. In solo situations, this
shouldn’t have been a problem, except for the fact that the
console units were used more for the simple fact that the
dash-mounted apparatus seemingly suspended the beverage of choice
in mid-air. Better to be safe with the cup nearer the earth,
especially when the leather upholstery costs $1,320 extra.
Speaking of extras, the sunroof adds $1,000, the Sport Package
(17-in. 5-spoke alloy wheels, sport suspension, ultra-high
performance summer tires) a reasonable $750, the Bose premium
sound system another $650, heated front and rear seats adds $525,
Xenon HID lights another $500, and – finally – $550
more for the Premium Package (Homelink, auto-dimming interior and
exterior mirrors, and memory driver seat). For a grand total of
$37,960. I’m just glad it’s not my money.
No matter how capable the chassis, or eager the engine, or
buttery the leather, the fact of the matter is this: If the
vehicle in question is lacking in a fun and coherent personality,
no amount of equipment will make people want it. Audi has been
poorly served in recent years by its parent, VW. Unmatched in
terms of its exterior forms and shapes, the marque is in need of
similar effort on its interiors and chassis. All of the bits are
there to make truly memorable cars, but they must be arranged in
a manner that makes a unique statement about the vehicle and its
maker. Right now, all these things conspire to say is: Audi makes
great looking, nicely outfitted Volkswagens. It deserves the
chance to say so much more.