Cadillac STS V-8

Cadillac STS V-8 - The STS comes in three aromas. There's the starter-kit version ($41,690) powered by a 255-horse, 3.6-liter V-6. There's the V-8 rear-wheel-drive model ($47,495) featuring a 4.6-liter Northstar producing 320 horses, 20 more than the old STS's output. And there's a V-8 all-wheel-drive STS, with a mandatory heavy options load ($62,765) whose driveline is yanked intact from the SRX.

The STS now rides on a wheelbase 4.2 inches longer than the old car's, yet in overall length the STS is 4.7 inches shorter. Glance at the car in profile and you can see what got chopped. The trunk's volume is down by two cubic feet.

Rear-seat dimensions, though, aren't much changed. It's still snug back there, at least for a luxury sedan, okay for two adults and their mocha lattes. It would have helped if the seat cushion weren't so low and you could insert both feet entirely beneath the front seats. A third adult betwixt? For 20 minutes maybe, but remember that with rear drive there's again a transmission hump to battle, and Hump Man has no choice but to stick one Florsheim into each of his colleagues' footwells.

What you notice first about the STS is that there's no ignition keyhole. Instead, you carry a standard-looking fob that signals the car to unlock its doors as you approach. After that, all you do is put your foot on the brake, then press a rocker switch to the right of the steering column. Voilà , the Northstar stirs to life. Press the bottom of the rocker to shut off the engine. In theory, you stash the fob in your pocket or purse and never have to remove it. If you don't care for that method of cranking, you can also fire up your STS remotely, from as far away as 200 feet.

What you notice next is that this is a vault-like Seville—sorry, STS. Cadillac has run amok with sound-deadening materials, which no doubt contribute to this car's 4148-pound heft. Special mats and blankets have been inserted in the dash. The shock towers, driveline tunnel, and wheelhouses all benefit from rubbery sound-absorbing goo, and the doors are triple-sealed. At 60 mph, there's negligible wind noise at the A-pillars, making this a soothing, almost meditative place to conduct highway business. Fact is, the Northstar's silky snarl is now clearly audible only at wide-open throttle.

Our test car was fitted with Magnetic Ride Control ($1850), which offered two firmness settings—touring and performance. Good luck switching between the two. You have to stop the car and toggle through a six-step interrogation on the big screen. Why not a simple switch on the center console, next to the traction control? Maybe it doesn't matter. In either mode, the dampers and bushings are about as stiff as Al Gore at a séance. The ride is never downright harsh, although there's some crash-through on Michigan potholes. Rarely do high-frequency road pimples find their way through, nor is much road noise transmitted.