BMW 6 Series GranCoupe 2012 Review - International

BMW 6 Series GranCoupe

The question is obvious: what on earth have you Bavarians been waiting for?

Initially, at least, they were waiting to see if Benz’s swoopier E-Class, (which its marketing gurus decided to christen a “coupe” to emphasise the difference between the two otherwise-identical machines) would work. It did.

Not only did it sell in strong volumes, but also it did it with minimal cannibalisation, bringing new, younger, sportier buyers into the traditionally conservative brand. And too many of those new, younger, sportier buyers traded out of BMWs.

Of the majors, BMW is last to the party in the same way that Audi turned up late to the SUV shindig. Porsche’s Panamera is the ugliest out there, but perhaps the most competent drive. Audi’s exquisitely detailed A7 is perhaps the best all-rounder of them all and boasts astonishing ride quality and an interior that feels better with every mile. Jaguar, without the funds to pump out two models, simply turned its XF into a swoopy machine from the start.

And then there’s Benz, wafting serenely on and quietly determined not to surrender the market share it gained with the CLS.

But BMW wasn’t idle while all this was going on. Instead, it was busy making the 5 Series slightly more conservative to leave room for a four-door “coupe” in both style and in the way it drove. It also had all-new 1, 3 and 6 Series to do, so forgive its tardiness.

In the end, they’ve arrived with a very good product, which they insist is a stretched 6 Series rather than a rebodied 5 Series, even though the 6 and the 5 (and the 7, if we’re picky) use shared architecture.

What they’ve also done is to create a three-member 6 Series family, with a coupe, convertible and now a four-door sedan. Oh, sorry. Four-door coupe. Two coupes and a convertible, very twee...

So the GranCoupe has electrically operated leather seats as standard gear, along with dual-zone air conditioning, plenty of internal safety gear and a 10.2-inch infomatics screen. And its iDrive works better than once it did.

The options list is as extensive as it is expensive. You can replace the standard dual Xenon lights with adaptive LED jobbies. You can replace the sound system with a Bang & Olufsen surround sound setup. You can include a parking assistant, surround view, the professional navigation setup, active cruise control, infra-red night vision and a head up display. And so it goes.

You can change the car’s entire feel by asking for dynamic damping control and adaptive drive, complete with active anti-roll bars.

There is the choice of a 3.0-litre, in-line six-cylinder turbodiesel or a 3.0-litre, in-line turbo petrol and, in the not-too-distant future, the first generation TwinPower V8 turbo petrol motor as well.

In V8 form, with the TwinPower combination of two twin-scroll turbo-chargers, Valvetronic’s finite valve control technology and direct fuel injection, the GranCoupe delivers 330kW of power, but it will arrive later this year.

The sixes don’t want for much, though. The 640i petrol version has 235kW of power and revs freely to 6200rpm. It delivers its peak power at 5800rpm and holds that in a plateau for 200rpm, and its 450Nm torque peak is even flatter, arriving at 1300 revs and sticking around until 4500.

It’s also the lightest GranCoupe around, weighing 1750kg on the unladen DIN scale. The six pot variant reaches 100km/h in 5.4 seconds on the way to its 250km/h limit. It does all this while using 7.7L/100km on the combined city/highway cycle, which translates as 179 grams of CO2 emissions/km.

The 640d’s compression ratio of 16.5:1 is far higher than the 640i’s 10.2:1, which translates into 630Nm of extreme torque from 1500 rpm to 2500rpm. It isn’t badly wanting for power, either, with 230kW on offer at 4400rpm and it even feels like it spins quite freely with it.

It’s not slower at all, either. It posts the same 0-100km/h sprinting figure, has the same 250km/h top speed and weighs only 40kg more. It’s even quicker across the standing kilometre, posting 24.7 seconds to pip the petrol six by 0.3s.

If the diesel pips the 640i in acceleration, it naturally smashes it in consumption. The 640d has a combined cycle average of 5.5L/100km (or 146 grams of CO2/km), but uses only 4.8 on the highway cycle. Impressive stuff.

Both of the six-cylinder engines sit in front of a terrific eight-speed automatic transmission and drive through the rear wheels. It’s a gearbox with a few tricks up its sleeve, combining its take on Sport and Comfort settings with those of the steering, suspension, skid-control system and the throttle management to provide genuinely different driving propositions.

There is also an Eco-Pro mode, to maximise its fuel economy, and it’s also fitted with an electro-hydraulic steering setup, a detachable air-conditioning compressor, start-stop and brake energy regeneration.

The suspension architecture is identical to the 5 Series, so it’s well proven, but BMW seems determined to stay with single-piston brake calipers all ‘round. They work, BMW insists, but that’s hardly the point. They look hideous inside those carefully crafted wheels and wheelarches.

They’ve also tried to save weight by using aluminium for the a lot of core chassis parts, including the suspension supports, along with the doors and the bonnet. The front quarter panels are plastic and the bootlid is actually a fiberglass composite.

It rides on 17-inch rubber as standard, though we were given the GranCoupe on its optional 18-inch run-flat tyres and the car has 19-and 20-inch options above that.

This is a 6 Series, dammit, from a new 6 Series family... Nevertheless, the 5 Series is relevant, in the same way the A6 is relevant to the A7 or the E-Class relates to the CLS.

And, it turns out, the wheelbase of the 6 Series GranCoupe is 2968mm, which is precisely the same as the wheelbase of the 5 Series sedan. Its front track width is also identical, which proves the 6 Series GranCoupe is, in fact, a new body on a 5-Series and not an all-new car.

That’s not the worst idea in the world, though it turns conversations about pricing and positioning into interesting exercises in the justification jargon unique to marketing folk.

It turns out that the GranCoupe is significantly different to the 5 Series in a lot of ways, some of which are immediately obvious and some aren’t.

The first is extreme driver focus of the interior design, which features swoops and curves and is so oriented towards making the driver a part of everything that it almost excludes the front-seat passenger completely.

It has been very clearly lifted from the (two-door) Coupe, although the centre console is different and BMW claims it always intended to make the driver feel like the king of the car.

It has also been organised to give an instant impression of quality, even if that can leave some of the cabin looking so over-done that it can be fussy. For example, on the top-end models we were testing, the dashboard alone has 27 different pieces of leather stitched together...

Yet it doesn’t work as well as it does in the Coupe. That’s because its more luxurious bent demanded a pair of cupholders drop into place and, just as Mercedes-Benz has done with its SL, BMW has put them in front of the gear lever and the car-adjustment switches. They’re just more awkward to use this way, because they’re behind where they feel like they ought to be.

It’s not like BMW to compromise ergonomics for the sake of convenience items, but the iDrive rotary dial is a struggle to reach, so is the gear lever, which is surprisingly useful in the car’s Manual mode because it actually goes the right way (forward) for a downshift.

Its lower roof line isn’t without its quirks, either, especially in the rear seat where even those of average height have to duck significantly to avoid crunching their heads to get in – or out – of it. Also, the shape of the frameless windows protrudes so far behind the door handle that the inattentive risk whacks in the stomach or chest with it every time they open the door.

Once inside, the rear seat is a very comfortable place to be, even if it’s a true four seater and a short-haul five seater. There might be a middle seat belt, but the centre console extends all the way to the leading edge of the rear seat, so it’s a spread-eagled affair for the middle passenger. It’s only for short trips, BMW explained, which is why they call it a 4+1 seater, rather than a five-seater.

Still, if the front-seat occupants choose to run their seats low, there is precious little foot room for those in the rear. Knee and shoulder room is generous, though. And you can always ask politely to lift the front chairs so as to slide your feet beneath them.

The boot is considerably smaller than the A7 offers, though BMW chose a traditional boot to give it extra rear rigidity in the chassis. They’ve paid a price for that, though, because the boot opening itself is small, even though it opens up 460 litres, and the loading lip is high, compromised by a strengthening brace at the back of the car.

Of course, the original is one of the targets of the GranCoupe. BMW got tired of the Benz CLS poaching traditional 5 Series buyers but it took a while to counter the threat. And the second-generation CLS, which arrived last year, is still a threat and clearly an inspiration.

Audi took a different tack when it arrived, discarding the traditional boot lid to swoop in, literally, with the A7 hatchback. Probably the standout car in the category, its soggy-looking tail hides an enormous carrying capacity that’s easy to access and a beautifully trimmed cabin that marries simplicity with elegance. Now that the S7 has launched, with its turbo-charged V8 petrol engine, the A7 family also has a bigger array of power plants, with V6 petrols and diesels as the mainstays.

Porsche’s Panamera is more of a bit player here and appeals more to those who appreciate its engineering and its brand than those who want it for its bodyshell. Should you own a garage with an aerobridge, this is the car you’d have in the class. Its handling bows to no four-door coupe, especially in the base version with its V8 engine driving the rear wheels.

Maserati has long owned the power-packed style stakes with its Quattroporte, and though the gorgeous four-door is aging well, it’s still aging and it’s probably half a class above the other contenders here.

For the hardheaded, some of the toughest on-paper competitors for the GranCoupe to tackle have spinning propeller badges.

Firstly, there’s the 5 Series. Hardly a style turn-off itself, the 5 Series boasts very similar rear-seat room, with the exception of a proper middle seat. It has all the same suspension, engine, gearbox, safety and comfort, and delivers it with a bigger boot opening, too. Then there’s the 7 Series, and there’s also the 5 Series GT, which you could easily park at the aerobridge you bought for the Panamera. It’s a terrific machine with a stodgy, out-of-place bodyshell and no clarity of purpose. None of which stops it from being a terrific car to cover miles in, of course...

That meant the package was pretty good to start with, and it only got better here.

The highlight is the body control and the fluid, intuitive way the GranCoupe drives. It delivers a driving package that precisely backs up the promise of its slinky, more-aggressive bodyshell.

It’s a sweet-handling thing with the petrol engine, but it’s the complete package with the diesel in the 640d. It’s the sort of engine that asks for very little but delivers everything you could want and more. If you didn’t look at the tacho when driving the thing, you’d never know it was a diesel at all.

It starts by sliding your head beneath the low roofline and sinking into the low seats that help give the GranCoupe the feeling of width that belies the carriage of the 5 Series identical front track width.

The petrol six cranks over and settles into a slightly gruff idle. Some of its sweetness has been lost as it’s gained capacity and turbocharging, but it’s still the best out there.

It’s flexible and sharp and responds beautifully to changes in throttle opening and it sounds sweet and strong at the same time. It gets a little gruff above about 5500rpm, but it’s still a crisp piece of work.

There’s a lovely purity to the way it feels as its revs climb that belies its turbocharged architecture and it can easily trick you into believing that it’s still naturally aspirated. It’s that good.

Yet it’s not as good as the 640d. Apart from a couple of thousand rpm at the top of its rev limit, the six-pot diesel motor delivers more of everything, including engine note, without asking for anything in return (except upfront cost, we expect).

Its song is a deeper one, more Barry White than the petrol motor’s stock-rock fare and it peaks before 5000rpm, where the petrol engine spins 1500rpm harder.

But its instant torque mountain – nearly 50 per cent higher than the torque delivered by its petrol sibling – means it’s ready to punch anywhere, anytime. It’s just as fast on paper, but demonstrably quicker in the real world, where you can’t count on having the petrol engine’s tacho needle at just the right point every time you need to go.

The 640d just punches, hard, from anywhere in the rev range and spins without indicating it’s got any of the typically heavy internals you find in diesel engines.

It helps that it matches to a brilliant gearbox, which can whip through shifts in snap mode in the Sport or Sport+ settings, yet slides them through effortlessly in Comfort.

The shifts pick up a little artificial “bang” on the way up the box in Sport, just to know you’re being sporty, along with a big blip on the throttle on the way down the gearbox. It’s kind of like a Stallone movie where something happens then someone else explains what happened, just in case one cinema-goer in a hundred missed it. It doesn’t actually need to be there, but the marketing guys thought it would help to reinforce the need for a Sport button.

On our car with its optional adaptive suspension, that Sport button did more than fiddle with the gearshift, though. There is a useful step between the Comfort and Sport modes, though, as ever, the Automatic setting does the job just as well, all the time.

The GranCoupe covers ground beautifully, always feeling connected with the road without ever punishing you for the contact. It’s supple on bumps, cleverly quick on turn-in and demonstrates to those recently afflicted electro-mechanical steering blandness that it can actually be done to feel like people want it to feel.

The chassis is superbly balanced and covers ground like it’s being poured over it.

It gets its power down beautifully and the calibration of the skid-control system (which gets a workout on the super slippery Sicilian roads) is seamless. It’s difficult to tell when the system has chimed in, and equally difficult to spot the precise point where it stops intervening and lets the power return.

None of this comes at the expense of ride quality, though. It does that terrifically and, again, feeling like it’s in complete contact with the road, even in Comfort mode.

BMW’s pitched this thing as something more than it already offers in any of its four-door machines. And it may well be right.

Read the latest news and reviews on your mobile, iPhone or PDA at carsales' mobile site...