BMW 420d

This is the M Sport Pro Edition of BMW’s 4 Series coupe, badge fans. Which, given the presence of nothing more exhilarating than a 188 bhp 2.0 litre turbodiesel under the bonnet, all sounds a tad too Gareth Cheeseman for my liking.

I can’t remember exactly when the M moniker was relegated predominantly to the status of marketing tool… Ford started the whole sorry boiling with Zetec badging which morphed from an indication of the presence of greatness -in the form of a Yamaha fettled engine that absolutely sang- to a mere trim level. Then Audi introduced R Line, and even Mercedes jumped on the bandwagon with AMG badging as an indication of nothing more than go faster trim and upholstery.

In this 420d, then, M stands for seat belts, steering wheel, rear spoiler, aerodynamics, 19” wheels, suspension and brakes, but absolutely not the presence of a powertrain which might in any way justify the upgrading of all said elements.

None of which is the first thing you’ll notice on initial acquaintance with the car. That would be the front grille. Even on the black trimmed specimen I drove, which dials its overbearing presence back a notch or two from the chrome edged offering, the grille -almost entirely blanked out, it should be noted- still looks all too reminiscent of the nostrils of an angry baboon.

Once again it was Ford who instigated the inappropriate imposition of verticality on the front of a car. And the Edsel was not, as I recall, a hit. History, to paraphrase Sting, clearly teaches us nothing.

Sadly, that’s by no means the worst design howler visited upon the hapless 4 Series. That accolade must be reserved for the driver’s instrument binnacle. Obviously it’s digital, but like so many, belies that truth by reproducing analogue dials as faithfully as possible. Which, in this case, is not very at all. 

Needles sweeping a circular dial are one thing, but here the edge of the dial is only 50% present, and at no point does it describe a clean, circular arc. Rather, you must look to the kidney grille for a clue as to whence the ungainly form heralds. More precisely, a 3-series grille rather than the lumpen 4-series effort; you’ll find the trim holding the top outer corner of each kidney a perfect match for the ostensibly random shape of the needles’ corral.

It seems the grille will differ on various BMW model ranges. Let’s hope the same is true of the instrument binnacle (3 Series excepted) ,because it’s a visual disaster.

Oh, and the adjustment on the M steering wheel doesn’t allow it to drop low enough to harmonise with the seat at its lowest setting. And it’s far to phat, with a girth boasting that of the anaconda Tarzan is obliged to wrestle every time he wants a dip in his favourite jungle pool.

Elsewhere on board, the process of untangling BMW interiors from the Bangle era continues, but hardly apace. The gear lever’s back where it oughter, and the centre console is now angled towards the driver again, even if there’s still too strong an accent on horizontality in the design. The whole feels a tad uninspired, in truth, one chum saying it’s like sitting in an office. Then again, perhaps that’s exactly what our thrusting executive who spends too much time on the road actually wants…

On the plus side, abetted by BMW’s 48 V hybrid technology -which adds 11 bhp and an unspecified amount of electric motor torque to the mix- the engine delivers its power smoothly and effortlessly, and combines a sprightly 7.1 second dash to 62 mph with impressive frugality. This would suggest that it has the makings of a sublime motorway mile muncher, were it not for the fact that the M ride is far too tough, even in Comfort mode, to which the car defaults ever time you start afresh. Perhaps it’s the run-flat rubber? All the give of Chobham armour.

Incidentally, other irksome settings such as the lane keeping assistant can be switched off once and will not trouble you again. Ever. Hoorah.

The engine may be up to the mark, but -straight lines aside- the car never feels particularly pleasant to drive hard, even when engaging Sport mode to wake up the gearbox. The size of that rim makes the helm somewhat less than enthralling to wield, and the car always feels rather large around you on the road, making it less easy than expected to place, and hold in place.

I don’t, in truth, quite get what feels gently off about the driving experience; it’s as if a small posse of little irritants have clubbed together to pee on one’s firework. A 330e I sampled recently proved rather wonderful to drive, with none of the traits that so annoy in this car.

Perhaps it’s that M Sport Pro Edition specification trying to make too much of a machine with too little under the bonnet? Caveat Emptor…