BMW M5 Competition

The day the rot set in was the day that BMW launched an M5 equipped with a button on the dashboard you had to press in order to unleash the full 500 bhp potential of the massive powerplant under the bonnet. Until you did so, only a paltry four fifths of the full George was available.

The logic behind this? Beats me -it’s not as if 400 bhp is exactly small beer, frankly. Other than keeping bored boffins busy, to this day it makes no sense to me at all.

Once upon a time the German super saloon was a pretty straightforward proposition: no nonsense delivery of monstrous performance and engaging, if lairy, rear-wheel drive handling in a relatively discretely styled and largely practical package, all at a pleasingly affordable price. Be interesting to see if any of the above still holds true…

For starters, this is no standard M5. Moreover, this Competition variant is the only M5-badged behemoth you can buy in the UK, and, if you even so much as cop a glance at the optional extras page, it’ll set you back over 100 grand.

Under the bonnet, the 4.4 litre twin-turbo V8’s maximum power output climbs by 25 bhp to an hilarious 617 bhp. However, with no increase in torque, which still tops out at an immodest 553 lb ft, that extra power is good for just one tenth shaved off the 0-62 mph flail.

Now, I imagine most of us could tell the difference between a governed 155 mph and the 190 mph here made available by the eight and half grand M Driver’s package, but is there really anybody out there who can identify the instant between 3.4 and 3.3 seconds without an expensive time piece? All I know is that either offer time enough to mutter ‘Oh…My…Giddy…Aunt’ as nearly two tonnes of car thumps belligerently over the blue horizon…

Changes to the undercarriage are of more significance, with a 7 mm lower ride height, stiffer springing, revised dampers and tweaked geometry promising better body control and, allied to all-wheel drive, sharper handling.

Happily, the discreet styling tenet has largely survived, a dollop of extra attitude applied to the bows, slutty gold brake callipers and four exhaust pipes astern being the only instantly perceptible signs of added perk.

On board, all is standard BMW fare, with knobs on. The four most important being two by the gear lever marked ‘Setup’ and ‘M Mode’, and two red tabs on the steering wheel marked ‘M 1’ and ‘M 2’. Setup allows you to configure such delicacies as steering weight, throttle response and damper tuning via the central touch-screen, but the car will automatically revert back to comfort and efficiency settings every time you switch off. Pressing M Mode allows you to choose between Road, Sport and Track settings; essentially disabling increasing swathes of nanny and safety systems as you home in on the rubber shredding end of the scale, and altering the driver’s instrument layout to give rpm and speed predominance.

The M1 and M2 tabs are far more satisfactory, allowing you to store preferred settings for most things mechanical and then call the whole shooting match into play with a simple stab of the finger. So, for instance, M2 might give you the closest an M5 ever gets to bumbling about mode, whilst M1 delivers the full stabbed rat.

The whole is designed to be simpler and quicker to use than the previous set up, but nonetheless does serve to consistently remind the driver of just how adjustable so much of this car is.

Two elements that, alas, aren’t adjustable are the relentless ugliness of the kidney grille-aping driver’s instrument display, no matter which option you select, and the incessantly uncomfortable combination of girth and bingo wings that comprise the steering wheel rim. Such a shame that one’s first point of contact with a car such as this should be so unpleasant…

In a straight line, the M5 is brutally quick, even if the augmented noises off from the engine room don’t quite do justice to the car’s ability to simply inhale the road ahead. It’ll dismiss a gently unwinding A road with imperious disdain, at velocities simply unattainable on tourist-glutted Mudfordshire summer roads.

Once dealing with a smaller, more sinuous stretch of tarmac, it’s to the credit of BMW engineering just how smartly the M5 turns in, holds on and then smears away from corners. You are, however, constantly reminded of just how large, and heavy, this machine is, particularly under braking; magnificent though the stopping power available may be. This is a car that never shrinks around you as speeds increase.

Massive, in many ways magnificent, expensive and so thirsty you have switch off on the garage forecourt or the engine will gain on the pumps, I remain unsure as to why I didn’t warm to the M5 as much as I’d anticipated I might. All-wheel drive helps it combine outrageous performance with everyday practicality extremely adroitly, and there’s now a deal less faff involved in setting the car up to fulfil either role.

Perhaps it takes a track day to push this machine to the point where the drama undoubtedly waiting in the wings can actually take centre stage.