Mercedes-AMG S 63 2015 Review

It's in the nature of the S-Class from at least as far back as the W220 of 1998 to deliver a serene, relaxing drive. It's the ultimate touring machine. I can't think of any other car that leaves you feeling more relaxed at the end of the journey than you were at the start.

That laid-back ambience of S-Class also holds true of the S 63 AMG on test, despite its firecracker AMG drivetrain. It soaked up bumps very well, it was supernaturally quiet at almost any speed, and it was such an effortless drive, with practically everything less than an arm's length away for immediate use.

Despite all that, the S 63 was not a boring experience, and there was no chance of the driver falling asleep at the wheel.

Yet it's hard to get away from the fact that for all its ground-shaking torque (900Nm) and power (430kW), the S 63 was very much a tourer. While its output was substantially better than that of the previous twin-turbo V8 rear-wheel drive two-door GT from Europe I reviewed – the Ferrari California T – the Fezza had the edge over the Benz, despite the smaller engine. Although the California T was ostensibly an entry-level GT in the Ferrari range, it proved to be much more a sports car than the S 63 would ever be. No surprise there.

The 5.5-litre engine in the S 63 was creamy smooth and muted, but it was in fact disappointingly quiet. I found the same issue with Audi's S6 too, but the S 63 was even more subdued than the Audi. Furthermore, while there's no denying that the S 63 would get up and go when prodded, you need a fair amount of road ahead to enjoy it. Coitus interruptus is a good analogy to describe the build-up of expectation and near immediate let-down as soon as you plant the foot in the S 63.

It was quick, but it would rip through the gears like there was no tomorrow and the car reached illegal speeds long before there was any real sense of drama or excitement compelling an adrenalin rush. Part of the reason for that was simply noise suppression; the balance was due to the car's passive dynamics.

The engine drove through AMG's Speedshift MCT seven-speed automatic transmission, which is basically a conventional transmission, but with a wet-plate clutch pack in place of the traditional torque converter. This became noticeable at times when speed fell below a certain level on a slight rise. The transmission shifted back a gear while power was still applied, and the shift was delivered with a slightly inelegant thud. It didn't happen that often, but it was an indication the transmission was not ultimately as smooth as a ZF eight-speed, for example.

In day to day driving, the S 63 was hesitant to get away if the idle stop-start system was enabled and the engine had to restart. There was a moment's delay that granted the housewife in the aging Celica a couple of metres head start at the lights – not that getting the drop on anyone at traffic lights is so very important. The idle stop-start system could be disabled, of course, but given the posted fuel consumption was up around 14.3L/100km with it enabled, I hate to think what the S 63 would have guzzled without it.

While the engine was unquestionably a strong performer when given free rein, it also felt hampered by the car's weight, and there's no doubt it was the kerb mass that added an extra 0.6 seconds to the S 63's 0-100km/h time, compared with the Ferrari.

Weight was also a factor in the S 63's cornering ability. At lower speeds it felt initially reluctant to change direction. With the suspension set up correctly at higher speeds the S 63 responded to steering inputs without any drama whatsoever. The steering was communicative and pinpoint-accurate (in relative terms). Surprisingly agile considering its bulk, the S 63 wouldn't match the Porsche Panamera for ultimate roadholding, but it was impressive nonetheless. At the point where loss of adhesion began to influence proceedings, the S 63's on-board safety systems stepped in, reducing power and keeping the car on track through the right arc with the front tyres beginning to scrub.

The S-Class coupe looked distinctly different from other Benz models when viewed from the three-quarter rear, I feel. Its waistline was quite high, relative to the roofline and the styling details made it harder to pick as a Benz from that angle – or easier to pick as something out of the ordinary, to put it another way. That's a good outcome, in an era when prestige brands seem increasingly committed to the 'ideal' of having their entire product range – from smallest to largest – all identical when viewed from any angle other than side elevation.

Climbing into the S 63 was more like sliding across the armrest into a high-quality lounge-room recliner rather than lowering oneself into a conventional automotive pew. The side bolstering was soft and yielding, but the seat cushioning was dense, so you seemed to sink into the seats quite a long way. All of this ensured the occupant was snugly cocooned for an optimal blend of comfort and support. In addition to the conventional seat adjustment, it was possible to change the shoulder width and adjust lumbar support in the Comand system. And the side bolsters actively provided additional support while the car was cornering. It's kind of a gimmick in one sense, since the seats can be adjusted for optimal envelopment in advance.

Even if this car weren't a $400,000+ coupe, the sheer weight and bulk of the front seats would determine that they must be power-operated to tip forward, allowing access to the rear seat. Unfortunately, that process was slow, and would be annoying for two or more passengers waiting outside the car, in the rain. Once in the back, adult-sized passengers felt very secure and comfortable. There was enough space for the knees and head of a person of average stature. The seats were almost as well shaped in the back as the front seats were, and there were lidded storage bins where the centre seat position would have been. Nevertheless, for such an imposing car, the rear-seat accommodation did feel 'intimate', but that had little to do with the seating arrangements so much as the slightly claustrophobic view from back there.

Trimmed in white leather – part of the Edition 1 pack – and complemented by a silvery wood-grain veneer – a $700 option – the S 63 interior was bathed in blue ambient lighting at night, for that Florentine-art-gallery-meets-upmarket-nightclub look.

As you would expect from a Mercedes-Benz, the S 63's driving position approached perfection. Normally I prefer to have the seat adjusted to an upright position, but the S 63 rewarded drivers with the seat tipped back a bit. I was (pleasantly) surprised to discover that the lowest seat height setting was still higher than I expected. Entering the car was made easier as a consequence, and you're never likely to find driving the S 63 an experience akin to driving a bathtub.

Information was presented to the driver in a large, friendly format, whether it was the map in the high resolution infotainment screen, or the pedestrian-savvy Pre-Safe Plus monochrome display that popped up in the instrument binnacle as I approached an intersection and someone looking down and tapping away at their smartphone stepped out in front of the S 63.

If there was one significant concern with the S 63's driving position, it was the location of the buttons for Agility Select – all on the far side of the centre armrest and the finger swipe gizmo, where they're out of sight.

If anything though, that leaves me wondering how many of the S 63's target buyers (60-year old 'captains of industry') will select a different mode from Agility Select that frequently anyway.

2015 Mercedes-AMG S 63 pricing and specifications:
Price: $427,100 (plus on-road costs)
Engine: 5.5-litre eight-cylinder turbo-petrol
Output: 430kW/900Nm
Transmission: Seven-speed automatic
Fuel: 10.2L/100km (ADR Combined)
CO2: 239g/km (ADR Combined)
Safety Rating: TBA