Europeans like to sell bricks.
Example A: Lego. Example B: Volvo. But wait -what's this?
Yes, the stalwart Volvo 240/740/940 has been dead for ages, and in its place a curvier sort of Swede has sprung up. No longer are Volvos merely a rectangular resting place for a labradoodle and a "Coexist" bumper sticker, they're now supposed to be svelte luxury cars with a premium feel.
To anyone who stomped through the snow in a 544, raced a 122S at Westwood, or hauled a load of firewood home in the trunk of a 240 wagon, the shift upmarket may come as a bit of a surprise. However, old Volvo's rough-and-tumble image has largely been co-opted by Subaru, so the Swedes now tout safety and comfort above all else.
It's a tough go against the likes of BMW and Mercedes; the German brands would seem to have the market sewn up tight. However, Volvo's renaissance is arriving with a distinctly different flavour, something to differentiate itself from the aggressive styling and big engines of the Teutonic titans.
So no, they don't sell bricks any more, but in the new XC90, Volvo's got something that's far beyond the ordinary.
Design
Probably the prettiest Volvo of all time was the Italian-designed P1800 coupe, the car popularized by Roger Moore's The Saint. While Volvo has relied on outside help from time to time to give their cars a little pizzazz, this new handsome crossover is distinctly Scandinavian in form.
And that means the old Norse gods are going to show up. Check out the XC90's headlights and you'll see a T-shaped LED bar that's meant as a nod to Thor's hammer. The diagonallyslashed grille and that iconic badge (the symbol means "rolling strength") lets you know it's a Volvo right away. The shape makes the most of the footprint, and the greenhouse is large enough that young rear-seat passengers will actually be able to see out - remember that, kids?
Really though, the main takeaway from the XC90's outward appearance is an air of reserve. The roof-to-midtailgate rear taillights have the same basic shape that's been there since Volvos of the 1990s, but the overall silhouette of the car borders on anonymous. It's well-cut clothing without the obvious labelling: no fender gills, no crazy side-surface styling.
Taken as a whole, the XC90's appearance is businesslike and unfussy. You can tell it's not a German car, but only because it's not shouting about it.
Environment
If the exterior whispers, then the interior murmurs. Volvos have always had some of the best and most comfortable seats in the business, and this car takes that comfort to a higher level with an infusion of subtly simple style.
The digital dashboard (and expect to see one of these in every new luxury car by next year), is bright and clear, and the central touchscreen is both quick and powerful. Actually, the latter -Volvo calls their infotainment system Sensus -is one of the best things about the car. Essentially an iPad in touch-and-swipe operation, it both has an endless amount of adjustability for vehicle systems, and an ease-of-use that's simpler than a dial controller.
The use of unpolished wood trim throughout the cabin and a multi-faceted starter and drive-select knob add a certain laidback flair to the ambiance. Carbon-fibre trim would feel gauche in here: the XC90 is warmer and more welcoming than the fighter cockpits you find elsewhere.
Passenger-carrying capacity is very good, including third-row seats that'll actually work for carrying larger kids. Step-in access is a little tricky though, so keep adults out of the back unless you don't really like them.
Out back, the XC90's 615 litre cargo-carrying capacity will rate an impressed nod from that old 240. Perhaps the best trick it pulls is what happens when you're only using part of the space: a flip-up cargo divider with elasticated band for securing loose objects works better than almost anyone else's solution. It's the sort of thing you'd hope to find in any car.
Performance
While the XC90 is a large and heavy machine, the only engine offering is a 2.0-litre four-cylinder. On paper, that doesn't seem like enough at all. Sure, the old Volvos soldiered along with a stout four-banger, but no one ever expected much performance out of them.
Unless they were turbocharged. If there's one thing Volvo knows about getting their cars to display a little maximum bork, it's adding forced induction, and plenty of it. The XC90's diminutive powerplant is actually twincharged: supercharged and turbocharged. The former adds low-end torque, while the latter spools up as you charge down an on-ramp.
Once at cruising speed, it's back to four-cylinder fuel economy.
That's the theory anyway, but it is surprising to experience how lively the big '90 feels when on the move. In regular driving modes, it reacts smoothly and leisurely, and if you've turned the radio off, you can hear the whistling and whirring of all those fans pumping air into the engine. It's not an unpleasing sound, though lacking the character of the old straightfive and straight-six engines Volvo used to sell.
Pop things into dynamic and the XC90 wakes up a bit. The old car was never a driver's delight, even when V-8 power was on the option list. This new one feels considerably lighter on its feet, thanks in part to the new architecture underpinning everything, and thanks in part to the solid reserve of low-end torque. Power ratings for the twin-charged 2.0-litre are a useful 316 horsepower, and 295 foot-pounds of torque from 2,200 r.p.m.
Features
As mentioned, the XC90's central piece is its 9.3-inch touchscreen. Icons are large and clear, and side-swiping through the various submenus is just as easy as using the tablet or smartphone you're already used to. Other optional niceties include a 360-degree camera for making parking that much easier, and a suite of heated features (everything from steering wheel to windshield washers) that you'd expect to come out of a Scandinavian country.
The XC90 starts off at $61,300, which is competitive with the usual suspects from the German brands. Add in a few options and it's more like a $70,000 car, although that's again competitive.
Despite the XC90's large size, the twincharging trickery results in more reasonable fuel mileage. Official figures rate 9.4 (litres/100 kilometres) on the highway, and 11.8 in the city. Realworld economy hovered between 10 and 11, excellent for such a large car.
Green light
Conservative, yet handsome; beautiful interior; solid infotainment.
Stop sign
Like all luxury offerings, options get expensive; premium fuel required.
The checkered flag
Volvo thinks outside the box - and it works.
Competition
BMW X5 ($66,300): BMW was one of the earliest companies to jump on the crossover bandwagon, and their X5 remains one of the more compelling offerings in the segment. If you're looking for a sportier drive, the X5 really does drive in a way that physics says it shouldn't be able to: it's heavy, but it's still a BMW.
Even if you couldn't separate the two on esthetics or driving style (which you can, of course), the X5's overwhelming popularity might just work against it. Want to stand out? Better go for the less-common Swede.
