Dodge Charger R/T

Dodge Charger R/T - There are, incredibly, five Charger chargé d'affaires. The bottom-feeder SE ($22,299) features a 250-hp, 3.5-liter V-6 and includes a ton of stuff—17-inch tires, traction control, ABS, a CD player, stability control. It's more fun to drive than a V-6 Toyota Camry and is a lot rarer, although that may change if Dodge achieves its goal of selling a quarter of all Chargers to fleets—among them fuzz fleets, so commit this car's grille to memory now. There's another V-6 iteration, the SXT ($25,999), with lots more stuff standard. Next comes the R/T, with leather seats and the multidisplacement 340-horse Hemi ($29,999).

Next comes the Charger Daytona R/T ($32,495), identical to our tester except for a Pep Boys decklid spoiler and the billboard-size words "HEMI" and "DAYTONA" reversed out of flat-black paint, demonstrating to passing constables that you are a person of limited judgment and excess cash. And later this fall will come the SRT8 with a 425-hp Hemi—the ultimate Charger—whose price has yet to be fixed. No all-wheel-drive Charger will be offered.

Mercedes likewise penned the steering rack, and it's a beaut. On freeways, the front tires evince fierce dedication to straight-ahead, and the slight on-center slack you notice in a 300C, which we drove back-to-back, has been eliminated. For the most part, effort is on the high side—and we'd have preferred to feel a little more road texture—but the heaviness disappears at parking speeds. In any event, the wheel itself is NASCAR large, so there's no trouble deriving leverage.

Brake feel is terrific and allows your foot to reliably sense the transition to anti-lock. Better still is the 169-foot stopping distance, impressive for a two-ton anything. The R/T's rotors are big (13.6 inches fore, 12.6 inches aft), and we noticed virtually no fade, even at the racetrack.

Even then, the platform held as firmly and shiver-free as a bridge abutment, and no subassemblies rattled or squeaked. Nevertheless, if you dwell in a frost-heave state and want to ensure that your Charger remains an all-star long-distance cruiser, you may want to dial back to the standard R/T suspension. At least sample it.

Speaking of practicality, the trunk is flat-floored and as big as an Audi A6's, and the rear seats fold flat in a 60/40 split. Two adults can ride comfortably in the rear, in part because there's room to nestle your feet beneath the front seats. But the driveshaft hump is 10 inches wide and 8 inches tall, transforming the rear center rider not so much into Hump Boy as the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Almost everyone carped about the Charger's funereal black-and-gray interior, cheapened by rock-hard armrests and a crinkly dashboard vinyl that would have been more appropriate in a mud-splattered Dakota. And of course the Charger shares its stubby windshield with the turret-topped 300, meaning you'll have to crouch to view stoplights. It's like having a cowboy hat pulled down around your ears.

Of les trois mousquetaires, the Charger R/T is the most fun. It's a notch more visceral—more connected and direct than its brothers—and is the only family member to feel poised on a racetrack. Too bad the Dodge engineers couldn't shear a couple-hundred pounds from the Charger's 4141-pound waistline, which would have altered its personality even more. Chrysler had hoped this 145-mph stroll down memory lane might recollect the Charger's roots as a hippie-era muscle-car coupe, but that didn't happen.

Its styling may not inspire, but the Charger R/T is what to buy if your spouse says a Mustang is too impractical.