WITH the 40th anniversary of American Graffiti just past, many people have been telling me, "youngsters these days with their mePads and facetwitters - they'll never know what it was like to grow up when hot rods were around."
Oh, horsefeathers. Just take a look at this thing.
On paper, it's just the sort of machine that makes me despair about the state of the modern automotive industry. It's a wildly over-powered SUV that shrugs off the laws of physics by the application of plenty of horsepower, big, sticky rubber, and dinnerplate-
sized brakes. Worse, this monstrosity's badged as a Jeep - you know, the brand that's made their name as purveyors of rugged, dirt-clambering 4x4s - and you can't really take it offroad. It's almost ridiculously aggressive in appearance, and even though there are hardly any kilometres on my test vehicle, it appears to be halfway through chewing up its front tires.
An entirely stupid behemoth then, some ridiculous ego-machine with no practical application and a vendetta against the environment? Maybe, or at least it would be if it wasn't so much damn fun. Hulk smash!
Design
In many ways, the Jeep Grand Cherokee is essentially an American Range Rover. You get clean, reserved styling, a spacious, well-thought-out interior, it can tackle just the same roughness of terrain as its more agricultural cousin the Wrangler and, as the whole thing is underpinned by the Mercedes-Benz ML chassis, the ride is very smooth.
The exterior of the SRT version of the Grand Cherokee gets a wee bit more wild. Slitted LED headlights give the truck a menacing glower, and the massive, chromed lower intakes look like the flared nostrils of an angry rhinoceros.
The hood ripples with horsepower, and is deeply slashed with cooling vents. The fenders bulge to contain massively wide, dark-chromed 20-inch alloy wheels. Out back a pair of vuvuzela-sized exhaust pipes stand ready to trumpet that Hemi V-8 bellow to the world.
Environment
Inside the Death Star, things are only slightly more reserved. Yes, it's a Chrysler product, so you might expect a lack of refinement, but the Grand Cherokee is actually surprisingly well stitched together.
The dash layout is nicely ergonomic, featuring a large touch-screen display mounted above a set of functional knobs and buttons to handle climate control functions. There's double-row stitched leather everywhere, and a strangely reserved amount of carbon fibre trim.
The chunky steering wheel is far more sensible than you'd find in a Mustang GT, without a ton of plastic on it, and while the paddle shifters are located a little too high, all the other driver controls are quite intuitive. Mastering the console shifter, with its tendency to skip reverse on the way to park, can make three-point turns a little tricky, but you soon get the hang of it.
Front seat comfort is great, and the suede centre sections of the seats do a great job of holding the driver in place without so much bolstering that it's hard to get in and out of the truck. Chrysler's UVO infotainment system is one of the best ones on the market (no, really), easy to pair to a smartphone, and capable of deciphering unpronounceable last names. The one niggle is that the satellite navigation locks out the touchpad when you start moving - an annoyance for the co-pilot.
Rear seat space and trunk space are both very good. This is a full-size SUV, and while there are bigger, more cavernous options out there, the added performance of the SRT has no drawbacks in the passenger carrying line.
That is, apart from your ride-alongs getting crushed by g-forces.
Performance
Powered by a gargantuan 6.4-litre V-8, the SRT Cherokee is a burly bruiser in the manner of 1960s-era Mopar lead-sleds. It simply growls on startup, the driver getting a little tingle of anticipation every time you press that lipstick-red starter button.
Being a fairly squaredoff design, it's actually not that difficult to pilot the Grand Cherokee around at city speeds. It's got decent sightlines and large side mirrors, and if that wasn't enough, having the road presence of an angry mastiff makes people tend to give way. It's a bit like being Darth Vader and walking into an Imperial staff meeting - suddenly everyone remembers that they've got to be somewhere else, anywhere else, right now.
Get this big heffalump out on the highway, and there's a bit of fidgeting from the steering. With steamrollersized rubber equipped, the truck has the tendency to follow in the ruts left by semis and dumptrucks, and it's a bit annoying until you get used to it. Dialling back the annoyance, my tester came equipped with radar-guided cruise control, allowing us to follow along in heavy traffic without having to spend a lot of time adjusting the throttle.
Most impressively, travelling at highway speed shows some pretty decent numbers for fuel economy. With cruise control on for a run to Seattle, the Cherokee sipped fuel, rather than quaffing it, returning an average fuel consumption of 10.5 litres/100 kilometres.
So you can live with it, but here's why you'd want to. Flick the drive selector to Track, press the brightly coloured button marked Launch Control, hold down the brake and then floor the accelerator. This makes the Jeep very angry indeed.
Then let go of the brake.
With all-wheel drive to handle traction, the SRT Cherokee simply dumps all 470 horsepower on the pavement and snaps you forward as though it was attempting to achieve escape velocity. The soundtrack is that of a Saturn V moon rocket, and so is the thrust. It's utterly hilarious, and very good fun.
The passing power of this big machine will also get you laughing. Winding it up the twisting road to Mount Rainier, we'd periodically get stuck behind some slow-
moving trailer and have just a short distance to get around. Faster than you can say, "Punch it, Chewie!" the Jeep kicks down a few gears - it's an eight-speed transmission - and the wall of power comes in with all the subtlety of an afterburner.
It handles well too. You'd hardly think such a big, heavy vehicle would have any kind of road feel, but the Grand Cherokee drives quite like its SRT8 Challenger cousin, overpowering the corners with mechanical grip and then powering out of them with sheer torque. It's amazing good fun, as long as you don't look at the sobering stats on the average fuel consumption readout.
Big brakes and massive tires make the Jeep capable of taking on a track day, but there's more to it than that. On the street, even when you're only tickling the throttle, the big, burly, muscle car character of the thing can't fail to put a grin on your face.
It's a bit cartoonish, a bit of an over-muscled Marvel Superhero. The price tag, the power, the entire concept of the thing - none of this will make any sense at all, until you drive it.
Features
As mentioned, Chrysler's UVO infotainment package is a stellar solution for most of the controls, and handles navigation and entertainment duties without a hitch.
Bluetooth streaming audio is standard, though I suggest you leave the Vivaldi at home and only play Motörhead and AC/DC instead. An upgraded 19-speaker sound system is $995, and is outstandingly powerful.
An optional $3,195 Luxury package adds in the leather-covered dashboard as well as adaptive cruise control and safety features like a blind spot system and collision prevention. Expensive, but worth it for the way it improves the interior appearance.
Turning to cosmetic options, polished wheels are standard, but the slightly more subtle satin or black chrome finish will set you back $895. A dual-pane sunroof will bring a little light to the backseat for $1,595.
Average fuel economy is officially rated at 16.6 l/100 km in the city and 10.7 l/100 km on the highway. Normally, this is the part of the review where I roll around on the ground laughing and saying, "Oh dearie me!" while wiping tears from my eyes, but the thing is, the Jeep actually hit its official highway number without hypermiling techniques or any special treatment. City mileage was closer to - gulp - 20 l/100 km, but for this colossal power to do that well on longer trips deserves a round of applause.
Green light
Gargantuan street presence; colossal power; nicely appointed interior; easy to use technology controls.
Stop sign
Terrible fuel consumption in-city; eye watering price tag; fearsome appetite for brakes and tires; not exactly subtle.
The checkered flag
Like the muscle cars of the past, a machine that exists simply to put a big, dumb grin on your face.
Competitors BMW X5 xDrive50i ($75,700) Aside from the silly name, this variant of BMW's strong-selling X5 lineup has most of the performance of the zany SRT, and delivers it in a far more genteel fashion with a liberal application of torque from its twin-turbo smaller-displacement V-8. Being a BMW, it also handles the corners quite well, and in terms of prestige, is far more likely to get parked out front by the valet.
Yes, it's far more expensive than the Jeep (especially once you start to pile the options on), but strong BMW leasing residuals close the gap quickly. The only complaint about the Bimmer? It's a far too rational choice.
