Lexus RC F 2015 Review

The prestige-performance coupe sector is a veritable alphabet soup at the moment. What with the RS 5, AMG C 63 S, F-TYPE R and the M4, you'd be forgiven for speaking utter gibberish to the uninitiated.

Now, there's one more acronym to pile on the heap: RC F. Tough letters, perhaps, though only if you're in the know. And letters that to me, at least, are completely without the personality of Mustang, Camaro, Charger, Cougar...

Oh I can hear it now: Philistine. Ignoramus... Whatever. As Unky Herb said in The Simpsons: "they want names like Mustang and Cheetah, vicious animal names". I tend to agree.

What about the car?

With its Yamaha-developed 2UR-GSE 5.0-litre V8 up front, Aisin AA80E eight-speed automatic in the middle and Torsen limited-slip diff at the rear, the RC F shares a formula familiar to all above bar the all-wheel drive Audi.

The all-aluminium engine boasts forged connecting rods, titanium inlet valves, magnesium valve covers, variable camshaft and valve timing, a two-stage intake system and twin (multipoint and direct) fuel-injection. It can also morph between Atkinson and Otto cycle in a bid to save fuel.

It makes comparable on-paper numbers to its German rivals: 351kW at 7100rpm and 530Nm from 4800-5600rpm.

Where it varies, noticeably, is in its price and fuel consumption figures – which are cheaper and thirstier respectively. The Lexus RC F is priced from $133,500 (plus on-road costs) locally, which is around $33,000 less than BMW's 'equivalent'.

However, the voraciousness of the naturally-aspirated V8's thirst for fuel is also notable at 10.9L/100km on the ADR Combined cycle – some 2.6L/100km more than the dual-clutch-equipped M4. On test we averaged 13.2.

More palpable differences emerged in our week with the RC F as well. The adventurous, head-turning body styling and crisp, tech-laden interior contrast the Teutonic trio with full affect, though realistically the similarities are more obvious than they seem.

The equipment levels of the RC F mimic those of its immediate rivals, albeit at a far cheaper price. Highlights include the high-fidelity 17-sepaker, 835-Watt Mark Levinson audio system and futuristic TFT instrument panel, with lowlights coming in the form of a prehistoric foot-operated park brake and sketchy track-pad-style infotainment controller.

But it's the dynamic differences that are perhaps more evident still. The RC F lacks the in-corner fluidity of the M4 Coupe I sampled recently, preferring a step-by-step approach to attacking the apex.

The RC F's 1860kg of mass (before occupants and fuel), which is roughly 300kg more than the M4, creates a lot of inertia on corner entry, forcing a 'settle, steer and surge' methodology seldom required in modern cars.

In a straight-line, however, the RC F seems mostly unaware of its bulk, hitting triple figures in 4.6 seconds (as tested), which is nonetheless half a second slower than the M4 (4.1sec).

The eight-speed transmission is also a little dozy when viewed against sharp-shifting dual-clutch transmissions found elsewhere. It has a tendency to run for top gear in all modes (there are four of them) and at all speeds, meaning additional throttle pressure (accompanied by several upshifts) is required on even slight grades to maintain pace in traffic.

It's a car that isn't happy to be left to its own devices in 'sportier' driving, either, preferring to be shifted manually to maximise the torque found from mid-tach.

On the plus side the resonate bawl created as air is sucked through the intake is pure bliss. It mingles provocatively with a choral melange of wailing mechanicals and an intensely rich exhaust note to spur the right foot even further into the firewall.

Over 3800rpm the symphony is complex, and ornately crowned by a crisp 'blurt' as you pull the right-hand paddle. The whole experience conjures a level of involvement that can readily divert from the quickly ascending figures of the digital speedo – a shame there's no head-up display to reinforce the sensation of speed.

It sounds peculiar, but the RC F simply doesn't feel fast. The figures beg to differ, but cocooned in a cabin so well insulated from wind and tyre noise the serenity off-throttle is deceptive. It's an aspect of the Lexus that makes it a better GT car than its immediate rivals and, given its stability at higher speeds, it's this element of its character that is particularly endearing.

For a fixed (double wishbone front, multi-link rear) suspension set-up without adjustable dampers, the RC F copes well with the rigours of varied road surfaces, which is surprising given the low aspect ratio of the tyres (255/35 R 19 front and 275/35 R 19 rear).

We also really enjoyed the involvement of the fixed-ratio electrically-assisted steering when the TVS system is set to Standard mode. With the torque vectoring rear-end placed in Slalom or Track mode there's a little too much countering from the inside rear wheel, distracting the front-end from its line.

Yes, that's what it's meant to do (bring the nose in more tightly), but initially it's quite a severe action that on-road and in the wet does little for poise at corner entry.

Braking – courtesy of muscular six-piston Brembo callipers clamping spiral-fin 380mm rotors at the front and four-pot, 345mm ventilated disc stoppers at the rear – is both muscular and linear. The pedal feel offers suitable levels of modulation with the RC F offering not only enormous stopping power but also adequate levels of feedback for beautiful, jolt-free stops.

We did, however, manage to get a little smoke off the front rotors after a repeated series of hard runs up and down a canyon (for the sake of video), though even this had little impact on the anchors' performance.

As a grand touring coupe the RC F makes a lot of sense. It's well-priced, offers a solid warranty and after-sales package, and is both luxurious and suitably fast. But when measured against the class leaders, it's no match for the likes of the M4 or F-TYPE R.

The RC F is the perfect car for luxury mid-size coupe buyers who prioritise enjoying life's finer things at a very brisk pace over the need to shave precious seconds off every journey. If only it had a cool, vicious animal name.