Mercedes-Benz SLK 55 AMG 2012 Review

Price Guide (recommended price before statutory & delivery charges): $155,000
Options fitted to test car (not included in above price): AMG Handling Package ($8825); AMG 18-inch alloys ($1500); Keyless Go $1850
Crash rating: N/A
Fuel: 98 RON PULP
Claimed fuel economy (L/100km): 8.5
CO2 emissions (g/km): 197
Also consider: Audi TT RS (hardtop only, from $139,900) BMW Z4 sDrive35is (from $120,500); Porsche Boxster S PDK (from $138,600)

Even though it sits at the tame end of the AMG line-up, the SLK 55 AMG works to house rules. Which is to say, it isn’t tame. The 5.5-litre V8 lumps 310kW and 540Nm on a little chassis (2430mm wheelbase), all weighing in at 1610kg. That puts it up on the cusp of supercar territory for power-to-weight.

It’s an equation that once upon a time would have left many a roadside shrine in its wake. How come? The shorter the wheelbase and the greater the power applied, the easier it is to lose the rear end in a corner.

So yes, it takes loads of a) chassis engineering prowess, b) stability control power and c) rubber to keep all that bulging muscle from splitting the seams. It should come as no surprise, then, that the SLK 55 AMG has one of the busiest stability control ststems in the business. And that’s with the optional Dynamic Handling Package ($8825) keeping things nice by making real-time adjustments to the damping on each corner. Even with all that, it’s a car that demands respect.

You can tell what you’re in for on approach. It looks the goods any way you come at it, from its freshly SLS-ified front end past the hefty 18-inch AMG alloys framing cross-drilled discs and great big calipers, to its bulging posterior with lip spoiler and fat quad pipes bookending a none too subtle diffuser.

Boot up the M152 5.5-litre V8 – essentially the same M157 mill found in bigger AMG 63s, but without the twin turbochargers – and it’s surprisingly docile at idle. No burble, shuddering or wobbling. You can barely tell it’s a V8. The news filters through fast when you put your foot down, though.

You can choose your drive settings via a switch on the console that cycles through Comfort, Sport and Manual modes. Comfort works well in urban traffic, with intuitive, seamless shifts virtually every time from the superb seven-cog DCT. It’s when you go into Sport mode that the handling package cuts in.

Tip the button when it’s stationary and it sends a momentary shiver through the car as it tightens up the suspension and remaps the ECU for snappier throttle response, foot-down and -up. It revs higher before shifting, it swaps cogs faster and it stays flatter in corners. To rein it all in, it also gets a composite ceramic brake upgrade up front.

In manual mode, via the stick or the standard paddles, the shifts are a bit quicker and a fair bit more palpable. One oddity here: the SLK doesn’t revert to auto with an extended squeeze on the right paddle. It simply makes its way back when it’s ready – which mostly seems to be about the right time anyway.

There’s a fourth mode, denoted by an ECO indicator between the two main gauges in the instrument pod. It shows up on easy stretches, when the car shuts off four of its cylinders. It’s quite seamless – put your foot down even a little and you get all your pots back.

Despite all that, we rarely went near the official fuel consumption figures. Even on a pure freeway run out to the Blue Mountains, keeping consistently between 80-110km/h speed limits in Comfort mode and leaving it to its own devices on long, straight, flat stretches, the best we could do was 10.6L/100km. The rest of the time it was 15s and 16s. And, yes, we did spend a fair amount of that time in Sport.

That’s because it’s so much fun anywhere this side of the bumper-to-bumper. It bounces out of the blocks and thunders from 0-100km/h in just 4.6 seconds, with the sound and fury to match, care of purpose-designed flaps in the exhaust system that open and close according to, um, “need”.

If the steering isn’t as razor sharp as BMW’s Z4 sDrive35is, the SLK’s proportions make it more manageable in cornering. And despite the on-paper difference in power and torque, the 250kW BMW six is more skittish in Sport mode, mainly because it hits its 450Nm torque peak much quicker – 1500rpm compared to the SLK 55 AMG’s 4500rpm.

Whatever neutrality the SLK 55 AMG achieves hurtling through corners is artificial, and you can feel it. Its torque vectoring system starts braking on the inside rear wheel before the first hint of understeer appears, while the stability control doles out a little taste of oversteer here and there before snatching the rear end back and patting down its skirts.

Like most open-top Benzes, it’s terrific with the lid off. We found that you can even make a nice drive of it top down on a chilly winter night (Sydney chilly, at least, if not Stuttgart chilly), thanks to the now famous AIRSCARF, which blows warm air around your neck from a little vent beneath the headrest. It works, really it does. At urban speeds with the windows up, it’s relatively easy on the hairdo. With the lid up, it’s as tight as a hardtop, free of squeaks and rattles. Hats off to Benz for the work they’ve put into torsional rigidity – no scuttle shake detected.

Most SLK 55 AMG buyers will never take it anywhere near its dynamic limits, or even sample it with the stability control switched off, so few are the opportunities to really test its mettle. One thing is clear, though: without all those electronics, it’s going to be a handful for the uninitiated. Not recommended for the overenthusiastic.

With the stability control on, it’s as safe as a hi-po sports machine gets. And packaged cleverly enough that you don’t even have to drive it fast to enjoy it.

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