It’s gotta be a tough assignment, being in charge of remaking the BMW 3-Series. Recognized as the king of the hill in small sports sedans for longer than most of us have been of driving age, there are a lot of expectations to meet here. For 2006, BMW had no choice but to update their class leader, though–so the 3 is all-new again, ready and willing, we hope, to fight off increasingly competent competitors from all sides of the auto industry. Will it be a fair match for once? We’ll see…

First off, it looks good. That in itself is a relief for many bimmer fans, as the redesigned 5- and 7-Series have drawn some pointedly negative remarks for styling by the now-promoted Chris Bangle. So although whether the new, flame-surfaced look is any improvement upon the old model (E46), the faithful can rest easy. At least it’s not a disappointment–in fact, we like the new (E90) taillights and front fascia a lot.

Driving dynamics are the heart of the matter, though, and here the new 3 wins some unqualified praise. Razor-sharp reflexes are simply inherent in the over-engineered chassis. And of course, steering is as accurate and precise as a tactile textbook would define the term; there simply is none better.

(Okay, a *little* qualification here–we did test a 330 with the Active Steering as part of a $1,600 sport package. First exposed to this system on the new 530i, we’re still undecided as to its efficacy. For the uninitiated, the system actively adjusts steering ratio as speed changes. This makes for easy parking-lot maneuvers, with small inputs giving lots of turn; it also makes freeway cruising safer, as the same amount of steering input moves the car much less at speed. However, we find ourselves uncomfortable with the system’s performance in spirited driving on the best twisty roads–as you vary speed at varying-radius turns, the system changes how far the car turns with a given amount of input. Speed up in a turn, in other words, and you need to adjust your line or meet the weeds. This makes for a lot more work steering through the most fun of mountain roads, too; if you’re blasting from 70 mph sweeping-radius gimmes to 10 mph hairpins you never quite know how much input to dial in. For a car with such sporting pretensions, a system that makes decreasing-radius turns and high-speed corner-carving *more* difficult seems out of place.)

Power is improved for 2006 as well. The new 3-liter inline six revs and hums as sweetly as any that came before, but now with 255 horsepower and 220 lb-ft. of torque. A technological whiz of a motor, it features a three-stage induction system and a magnesium/aluminum composite construction. It scoots the sedan to sixty in about six seconds, feeling turbine-smooth in the process. While we hanker for the upcoming, V8-powered M3, the 330i can not be called a compromise. Not blindingly fast, the 330 is supremely fun to drive fast anyway.

There are six gears in the 2006′s smooth-shifting stick as well, and here again, BMW has set the bar that the rest will be reaching for. Clutch action is just about perfect as well; changing gears is so much fun you’ll find yourself shifting when you don’t even need to.

Inside is a bit of a conundrum, though. Dimensions have increased–one to three inches in length, width and wheelbase–but the ’06 feels smaller than ever. The front seats are excellently supportive, with an extendable leg-rest and good bolstering–but there’s just not much space here. It feels tighter inside than the 330i coupe in our personal fleet, to the point where it almost interferes with the driving experience (and your front passenger will never be quite comfortable). Even the steering wheel is tiny; average-size drivers feel like giants in here. It could be said of the Lilliputian dimensions –front room actually increases, according to BMW–that it fits like a glove…but we’re not sure. Try it on for size and see.

In back is a better story; there’s room for two average folks to ride in comfort as well as style. The oversized sunroof benefits all as well, as does the high-quality leather.

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Generally, we like the interior. Materials are top-drawer; you feel rich even inside this bottom-rung (for now) bimmer. Everything that moves, moves with an almost sexily damped precision. The new dual-pod dash design on the higher-end model we drove work well–a single pod serves for models without iDrive. Oh, yes–iDrive. Many an automotive scribe has unleashed a torrential rant upon this system–but in truth, it has its benefits. You can control things with it–ventilation settings, electronic delays, even performance settings in some models–that no set of switches could accomplish. And now that BMW has added redundant buttons for oft-used audio controls like volume and forward/reverse, the need to play around with the stationary mouse while driving is greatly reduced. While it still doesn’t work as simply or easily as a touch-screen system might, anyone who can program a VCR would surely become proficient with the system in ownership.

Speaking of higher-end models, perhaps the biggest shock we got when driving ours came when we pulled out the Monroney (window sticker). The as-tested price on our 330i: $46 grand and change. That included a $1,000 cold package, with heated seats, headlamp washers, and a folding rear seat with ski bag; as well as the sport package. Of course, dynamic perfection doesn’t come cheap–but these days, when there are so many other sports sedans out there that are as good as they are, the decision to drop that kind of dough on a Jetta-sized BMW isn’t as easy to make as it once was.

The new BMW 330i is damn good. It’s good-looking and good to drive. Unless you’re in the ultra-rich category–in which case you’d probably be looking at the other end of the dealership–we’d recommend skipping an option or two (Active Steering, anyone? Buy your own aftermarket 18″ rims if you want ‘em that bad). Many of the things that made the last generation great are even further improved here–although interior space is not on that list–and that’s good news for 3-Series fans. But with the competition from Germany, Japan and even the good old U S of A heating up, the title fight for the best compact sedan crown is no longer a shoe-in.

The acrid scent of melting rubber is an aphrodisiac to some of us (although our asthma-plagued editor could do without)–and these days, DaimlerChrysler is doling it out all across the country. Those old Mopar boys have been quietly building up quite a stable of high-powered stallions over the last couple years, and their lineup now rivals that of any manufacturer for pure, rip-snortin’ action. They all wear the SRT badge, for ‘Street/Racing Technology;’ which is DCX’s official moniker these days for the in-house skunkworks team that’s responsible for turning out hotted-up versions of the various brands’ deserving platforms.

DaimlerChrysler’s SRT division gives a ‘halo effect’ to the rest of the brand’s offerings. In corporate terminology, “the passion for the SRT program goes into everything we build” at DCX; in reality, these hot models with the huge rims and heady horsepower figures serve to lure customers into dealerships, where, the idea goes, they’ll walk out with something from the Pentastar brand, even if they decided to forgo the 20+% premium SRT cars command. It’s a bit of the old “win on Sunday, sell on Monday” mantra, except there’s no actual racing involved in the SRT program (and that makes sense; even NASCAR rides these days share not a single component with production models, so who needs to invest millions in a racing program when you can simply build halo cars that *look* track-ready?)

Like any good dealer would, though, the SRT guys don’t stop at just selling you the first dose; they let you run the cars through their paces to see to it that each and every buyer gets totally hooked… Thus the genesis of the SRT Track Experience program, whereby buyers of any SRT-badged hot-rod get a day of instruction and hair-raising fun at a local racing venue.

Conscientious reporters that we are, we went out and attended one of these events for you, so our beloved readers can know what it’s like to be the new owner of an SRT machine–and flog it at a local track. Of course, since we don’t own an SRT’ed version of each DCX product (and unh-uh, no way were we flogging our new long-term Charger RT amid this bunch), we got to play in the press cars–actual owners get the “run whatcha brung” deal.

It was a beautiful sight; all those horsepower-injected machines lined up, keys at the ready & helmets in the driver’s seats. We were allowed three laps of the Summit Point road track per car, although there was enough time that multiple sessions were no problem–and there was nary a car that wasn’t being flogged pretty much continuously throughout the day (the Viper even needed a fill-up at lunchtime).

Approaching this menagerie logically would lead you first to the Crossfire SRT. With 330 horsepower and 310 ft.-lbs. of torque, it’s the tamest ride on the lot (although no slouch when compared with the 215-hp regular version). Wedging yourself inside (it was a tight fit for the less-fit and/or freakishly tall members of our staff), you are greeted with plenty of familiar Mercedes switchgear, but nothing screams “hot car” here either. On the track, though, the coupe’s driving experience belies its diminutive nature–and finally begins to earn that sexy Crossfire name. It feels eminently tossable (although some of that might be body roll), and grip is great, thanks to gargantuan tires (225/40 front and 255/35 rear) and 18-19″ rims that you could melt down and make shoes for three normal cars. Although based upon the last-gen Mercedes SLK–a car few enthusiasts considered serious in any sense of the word–the SRT Crossfire ((actually AMG-tuned)) feels as modern as it looks. Motivation comes courtesy of a supercharged V6, and power delivery is quick and sweet, if not entirely linear. Excepting a few subtle cues and a half-moon spoiler that looks somewhat out-of-place, the Crossfire SRT-6 looks like a tame boulevardier–yet it goes like a baby Benz on the juice. For some of us enthusiasts, there’s nothing sweeter than that–a sleeper with class.

Smaller but hotter, like a baby habanero next to a burrito-sized jalapeno, is the Neon SRT-4. (Well, okay, it’s *not* the Neon SRT-4; for reasons that essentially boil down to vanity, the “hi!” car’ moniker is dropped entirely when the compact makes its way thru SRT’s skunkworks.) An entirely different animal than the ultimately civilized Crossfire, the turbocharged, 230-horse SRT-4 is like some sort of frisky pup on steroids. On the track, the SRT-4′s own torque steer is this pup’s own worst enemy, however. It’s all but impossible to counter the result of so much power running through the front wheels, but still, the engineers coulda saved a few bucks by eliminating the steering’s entire ‘right-turn’ function–why bother cranking the wheel when an overzealous stab at the throttle will net the same result? Stiffer shocks might alleviate the situation somewhat. The only other problem we could find with this pocket-rocket was the lack of a passenger-side grab handle (commonly called an “Oh shit!’ bar’), in a car that spends as much time pulling g’s–intended or not–as this one does, that’s a grave mistake.

SRT’d versions of DCX’s hot new LX-platform vehicles were preset as well, of course. On paper, each of these midsizers looks about equally matched; their 6.1-liter HEMI V8 making 425 horsepower and 420 lb./ft. of torque, and not a one of them weighing more than 200 lbs. on either side of two tons. However, subtle differences were evident. Some were stickier on the track, for instance–and some were more sporting in character. Still, the SRT boys (and the folks who made these rides just *have* to be boys, don’t they?) are most proud of the fact that each is an order of magnitude or two above the 345-hp normal HEMI LX machines.

The 300C SRT-8 is the king of the bunch. At under forty grand, the interior is positively opulent. We like the ‘regular’ 300C (heck, we can even dig the 300 Touring, with its’ 250-horse six–you know, for your wife), but this car takes the ‘gentleman’s hot-rod’ theme to a whole new place. The official line be damned, this is the tightest of the LX bunch (especially with the grippy tires on this example). Turn the ESP off, and it gets remarkably tail-happy–and happy is good, right? Left foot braking is a joy in the 300 and its platform-mates, nevermind the (admittedly excellent, Mercedes-sourced 5-speed slushbox). We did notice some slight warping in the brake rotors in one of the 300C SRT-8 test cars, however, belying the fact that the brakes are in general superb in this car. The bottom line? Hustling 4,000 pounds of American iron around the track at these speeds, coddled in leather and suede and accompanied by a sweet nav and stereo system, is simply tremendous fun.

At $2,000 less, the Magnum SRT-8 is available for speed freaks on a bit of a budget (and who maybe still to haul some kids around now and again, or perhaps use the long load area for work supplies–now that’s a commute!) White-faced gauges are the sportiest interior touch, although the seats hugging your thighs and shoulders are a clue, too. On the track, you can feel the extra weight in back trying to swing you around like a pendulum; but it’s not much different than the sedan and also not entirely a bad experience–as any old-school Porschephile will tell you, oversteer is *fun!* This is quite a toy–station wagon, yes, but kick-in-the-ass fast.

And for those who feel that 70+ decibels of V8 pipe music and 20″ rims aren’t enough of a statement, there’s the Charger SRT-8. Coming to a street-race near you soon, we didn’t get to sample one of these; but we’ve seen the bestriped model, and it looks hot. Assuming it drives like it’s platform mates, this’ll be the favorite of outgoing types.

Probably the big surprise of the day was the Dodge Ram SRT-10. Conceived to go head-to-head with Ford’s now-defunct Lightning, this big-engined rig has no direct competitors right now–it did its job too well; nobody could compete with the 500 horses the Viper-sourced V10 pumps out. It comes in two flavors; a quad cab and a regular, 2-door model. Either iteration wears steamroller-like 22″ rims shod in 305/40 tires; the first of many visual clues to the powerful truck’s prowess (you might also catch on to the revised front fascia, the massive hoodscoop, or the thick spoiler running across the tailgate–the fact that this partly cosmetic add-on restricts cargo loading and thus somewhat negates the utility value of the vehicle just goes to show you where the SRT boys’ priorities lie). Inside, it lets you know it means business by means of a push-button starter, a hefty Hurst shifter, and a full gauge package. As it’s a good sight taller than anyone short of Yao Ming, you don’t expect this to be much more than a straight-line machine–but here’s where the real shock comes in (assuming the looks and exhaust note of this beast haven’t already put you into cardiac arrest). The power is, of course, phenomenal–but the handling amazes as well. It’s not just grip, either; this truck is as balanced as you could imagine a vehicle with 100/0 weight distribution to be, and the excellent view of the track that sitting just below what’s technically Federal airspace allows is a real advantage. The only downside is the mongo pedals–they seem to be sourced directly from plebian Rams–that don’t allow heel-and-toeing. One other suggestion to the SRT engineers (who are surely reading this awaiting their instructions): this truck, like the SRT-4, could really use a short shift kit; it is easy to miss a shift in track conditions in these vehicles–or so says my editor, at least, who ground a few gears more than average on his runs. As it stands, this has to be our number-one recommended vehicle for contractors, carpenters and landscapers who can only own just one vehicle, yet still enjoy the occasional day at the track.

And then, there was the Viper. Legendary, and with good reason. Five hundred horses gallop under that tapered red nose, ready to fling you through any turn on the track (and if you’re a certain editor with more guts than grip, it’ll happily explore the bordering grassland with you, too). Not practical by any means, the two-seat roadster is cramped and hot–those 3,000″ exhaust pipes running by your leg could roast pork. But this car isn’t about passengers, anyway, unless you’ve got them chopped into pieces and stuffed into the one-and-a-half-cubic-foot “trunk.” … Tires are 345/30 in back–fatter than your average McDonald’s fan (and probably heavier, too). This is one hot momma, and she’s all about the drive; finding ways to use its god-like power and great gaping gobs of grip to subject your body to more g-forces than anyone short of John Glenn is used to. Don’t worry too much about exceeding the car’s limits; yours are likely to break far sooner–unless you miss a shift, which is a little too easy to do with the somewhat balky unit in this ride. The Viper is one of those production cars–think Z06 or Elise–that’s really more for the track than anything else. At $85,745 that’s either a very expensive toy or a rather good deal, depending on what else you compare it to. And that’s really what the Viper boils down to; not so much a car as a thrill-machine–and with that as its goal, it’s a roaring success.

In fact, all of these SRT cars are a little over-the-top for the average driver. They’re overpowered as far as most folks are concerned, and you do pay for that–although they’re a bargain compared to the competition. They sacrifice things like space, solitude, or serviceability–depending on which model you’re looking at–but supply supreme excitement. And in that, Dodge and Chrysler have real successes on their hands–which we can only hope will eventually imbue the rest of the model line with their attitude. We can thus pretty much infer that the average buyer of an SRT vehicle–be it an $85,745 Viper or $21,295 (Neon) SRT-4–is willing to make that tradeoff of utility for the love of the drive, in the same way we can infer from their cars that the SRT engineers love the drive. We thereby decree the SRT Track Day events that DCX provides for every SRT buyer a stroke of marketing genius–how better to make a direct manufacturer-to-customer connection than to reinforce that common bond over the love of performance? We appreciate what DCX has done with these cars–and their customers will in turn appreciate the ability to hit the track, on DaimlerChrysler’s dime, and enjoy the capabilities of their new cars to the fullest.

From the outside, the GLI model is distinguished by a black honeycomb grille, a gloss-black finish on the grille surround (instead of the base Jetta’s chromed monstrosity) with red piping around it, and attractive 18″ alloy rims. Inside is an upgraded gauge package, aluminum console trim, and drilled-look pedals. Otherwise, the GLI is pure ’06 Jetta, inside and out–but it somehow works much better here. Of course, the new Jetta’s interior was already its strong suit; with increased room especially in the rear, Audi-esque switchgear and controls, and top-notch materials (including the optional leather seating areas) helping to move this little sedan upmarket.

Another bonus: mileage. The EPA ratings on the new GLI are 24 mpg city and 32 highway–and for once, the bureaucrat’s numbers may be on target. We didn’t have this car long, but it seemed thriftier than many of the competing cars we’ve driven. Some of the credit here certainly goes to the FSI direct-injection system, of course, as well as the efficient German engineering. Point is, with gas hovering around three bucks a gallon, the small sports sedan segment in general–and this car in particular–should do very well with people looking for a high bang-for-buck ratio.

So, all told, we were pleasantly surprised to discover the GLI option turns the jellybean Jetta into a grin machine. (And at $28,705 with the optional $3,200 premium package, it should!) It does beg the question, though–why did VW make the bread-and-butter car such a mediocre performer? We don’t know, but the fact remains that this GLI actually comes closer to the GLI/GTI pocket-rocket ideal that the original models created 20-odd years ago–and that’s a good thing.

Knowing all that, we weren’t expecting much from the brand-spanking-new Jetta GLI we piloted last week. Sure, the motor’s specs–2.0 turbocharged liters, with 200 horsepower and 207 lb-ft. of torque–seemed promising, but could that and some suspension upgrades overcome the overpowering blandness of the base model?

Turns out it does. From the moment you step inside this baby sports sedan, GLI-specific touches like the tilt/telescope three-spoke wheel let you know you’re driving something special. Turn the key, and the engine’s smoothness belies the fun to come–but only until the launch. Unlike a lot of VW turbo motors, torque feels plentiful here, and the linear power delivery from this little engine will keep you grinning all the way through the 6.7-second 0-60 run and beyond. Handling is equally impressive; this GLI loses the somewhat bloated, hefty feel that saddled earlier generations, and replaces it with balance and nimbleness. Although the strut-front and multilink-rear suspension is stiffened only slightly, and ride height is unaltered, the difference is perceptible. The driving experience is more akin to, say, an Acura TSX–where the last model was more reminiscent of perhaps an Impala SS. Transmission-wise, the six-speed manual our test car was equipped with was icing on the cake–smooth and slick–although the optional DSG (Direct-Shift Gearbox; like BMW’s SMG) is also known to give smooth, sharp shifts.

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The base model 2006 Jetta–the first one Volkswagen released; the one with the 150-horsepower 2.5-liter five-cylinder–is an underwhelming machine, as far as enthusiast rides go. (Just to get that out of the way.) Which isn’t to downplay its overall niceness; like any new VW, it’s a well-made automobile that will more than satisfy your average buyers. Those of us with octane in our bloodstream, however, find the engine anemic and the suspension a little on the soft side–although it’s darn nice inside, at least. Complaints have also surfaced about the new styling direction VW has taken–they seem to have eschewed the softly linear angularity of previous models for a rounded, blob-like sameness(distinguished only by fifty dollars’ worth of chrome in the grille.)

Toyota’s Avalon, Buick’s LaCrosse and cars of their ilk have just been put on notice. Hyundai, the South Korean brand that has blasted its way into the economy car and small SUV segments–after a total 180 from their early days of disposable Excels–is at it again. The new target is the sub-$30K near-premium class, and the ’06 Azera sedan they just debuted looks to be a strong contender right out of the gate.

Replacing the solid-but-forgettable XG350, from the outside the Azera’s certainly got the goods. It pulls off the bland, “I’m a pretty expensive car but don’t look at me too much” persona adopted by everything from the Lexus ES330 to the Ford Five Hundred. Which isn’t to say it’s not attractive; it has the requisite chrome, soft curves, and pricey-looking rims all mated together in a well-rounded package that’s likely not to offend anyone. And Hyundai’s designers did get to express a bit of personality in the back end, at least. We find the rear three-quarter view to be perhaps the best-looking in the segment, with its humped haunches and sinewy curves over the rear wheels and trunk areas.

Like all Hyundais, the Azera will trade primarily on price. It starts under $25,000, significantly undercutting the competition (even allowing for discounts and incentives that have been slapped on some of its slower-selling brethren). The top-level Limited model, with the Ultimate option package model still comes in under $32,000–again a comparative value. Unlike its ancestors, however, the Azera will also trade on feature content–and that’s this car’s primary strength. Little touches like the power-folding side mirrors and one-touch power rear sunshade–included with the Ultimate package–are trick little gadgets rarely even found on cars costing twice as much as this. Plus, they make for easy showing-off.

The not-so-little features are done well here as well. The leather upholstery is gorgeous and buttery-soft. The plastics and other to-be-touched materials are high-end and inviting. Check out those vents, for instance–they feel solid and look great. The audio system, with six-disc CD changer and mp3 capability, sounds like a premium job. Keyless entry, power driver’s seat with memory, dual climate control with rear-seat vents, and power-adjustable foot pedals and steering wheel all come standard as well. No less than ten control buttons adorn the steering wheel, too. The absence of a navigation system is the Azera’s biggest luxury-car sin, and it’s forgivable when you consider the price vs. utility ratio of such things. In general, the Azera rates as a nice place in which to pass the time–quiet, well-equipped, and cosseting. If you have to spend 500 hours a year in traffic, why not do it comfortably?

Hyundai claims that interior volume actually bests that of the BMW 760 and Mercedes S-class, not to mention the Avalon. It’s also deadly quiet at speed–Buick should subcontract its Quiet-Tuning out to Hyundai. No less than eight airbags provide an invisible safety cocoon and stability control helps avoid crashes in the first place. Standard antilock brakes and traction control round out the safety package.

Generally, cars in this segment inspire, at best, yawn-tastic reviews in most automotive publications. The simple reason for that fact is the somnolent driving dynamics pervasive among this type of car–even the Avalon’s GT package hasn’t added much excitement to this class. Still, the Azera proves its mettle well on this front.

Acceleration is impressive–we recorded a 7.1-second sprint to 60 mph–due to the brand-new 3.8-liter V6 Hyundai designed for this car. Making 263 horses, this cream-puff of a motor is the most powerful engine ever in a Hyundai (and it’ll likely do good work in the upcoming Santa Fe redesign that’s set to grow to a seven-seater). An advanced CVVT design, all-aluminum construction and a variable intake add efficiency as well as power. EPA fuel economy has not been released yet, but we expect it’ll be above average for a car like this. The smooth-shifting five-speed automatic–with Shiftronic manu-matic action–is the icing on the power/economy cake.

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Suspending this all-new chassis is a simple front double-wishbone/rear multilink setup that works well in this application. (The chassis is actually a stretched version of the platform that underpins the Sonata, one of our favorites in the midsize segment.) Body roll and lean are certainly present, but never to an alarming degree. In our brief time with several pre-production Azeras, we were unable to upset the car at all–the progressive understeer and well-planted nature of this car will be reassuring to many buyers, especially ex-SUV owners looking to replace their gas-guzzlers with something a little more economical.

Like all Hyunda’s, the Azera comes with the 10 year/100,000-mile warranty coverage. That warranty, which is almost single-handedly responsible for the public’s willingness to re-consider Hyundai cars after the early ’90s debacle, covers all powertrain components. There is a deductible applied for certain repairs over a certain mileage, however, and a few folks have reported less-than-stellar dealer experiences–but in the main, this is among the best coverage available on any new car.

“Luxury without guilt” is the marketing idea behind the new Azera. Hyundai has targeted a sales goal of 30,000 to 40,000 units annually, which it should have no problem reaching as long as it can get buyers into showrooms to see this car (and read the Monroney window sticker). If you’re in the market for a luxurious car completely devoid of ostentation–and if you’re on a budget–this is a must-see. Especially if you’ve been paying a premium price in the past.

The marketers like to tell us that cars like this–the Chevy Aveo, Toyota Echo, and so on–are perfect for young kids going off to college, buying their first car. Or having it bought for them. But we were young not so long ago, and we remember feeling like we’d never be caught dead in a tiny tin box like that. No, take a look around sometime and see who’s really behind the wheel of cars like those, and you’ll see that most of the time, it’s normal, middle-age folks. Not kids with dyed hair listening to pop music, but folks in button-down shirts listening to NPR.

Why would such people be driving such entry-level wheels? Chalk it up to smarts. These are folks who take no enjoyment from the act of driving, but still have to get to the proverbial Point B without breaking down halfway from A. These people want basic transportation; the car might as well be an Amana fridge, so long as it starts every time and has the basic convenience features that make life livable.

Of course, those cars get reviewed, too. Even though it’s every automotive journalist’s most-feared assignment–driving around for hours in a tippy little econobox–somebody’s got to do it. So when Hyundai introduced the new-for-2006 Accent, they did a smart thing by shipping us all out to La Jolla, California to do so.

As it turns out, though, the high-end luxury digs and fancy meals weren’t necessary. The Accent is a genuinely decent car that survives on its own merits.

First off, it’s not bad-looking. In a segment that seems to be dominated by no style at all–the Aveo, Echo, et. al. look like the toy cars of a kid who doesn’t like toy cars–the new Accent actually has some neat touches. It’s got a real sedan shape, and an utter lack of that dorky, awkward too-tall-and-skinny-for-its-own-good shape. Plus, there’s that attractive front fascia and jeweled-looking taillights. All said, the Accent is probably the best-looking choice in the sub-compact class.

The same can be said for the interior. There’s nothing groundbreaking here; it’s all pretty much standard fare. But the Accent doesn’t suffer from the substandard materials we’ve seen in the other cars in the $12,000 price category. In fact, from the inside, the Accent feels like a much more expensive car (like a Civic or Corolla). Plus, standard features like an adjustable rear headrest set it even further apart. Niceties like power windows and doors, a CD player, and so on remain optional.

Best of all, it’s not cramped inside, as most subcompacts are. It’s significantly larger than the outgoing version–by a couple inches in most directions–and it’s said to be bigger inside than a Civic. The tape measure says passenger space hits 92 cubic feet, which is impressive. The seating position is also raised, giving a better view down the road and in traffic. Seats are relatively comfortable as well. We took an hour-long trip with three passengers, and didn’t hear a single complaint about close quarters.

Obviously, this is not the segment that driving enthusiasts shop. 100 horsepower is standard fare here–the Accent’s 110-horse inline four actually trumps the Toyota and Chevy. Variable valve timing makes the most of the meager 1.6 liters of displacement, although it’s not tuned for high-end horsepower in the same way as a Civic Si, for instance. We do recommend the manual tranny, though–with the four-speed automatic we recorded a lethargic 10.2 seconds to sixty mph. (Again, that’s standard in the class, but still painful–the stick shift should lop at least a second off that time.) The Accent’s powertrain also isn’t too coarse–another rarity–and might be the quietest car in the class.

The list of standard mechanical equipment is impressive. Disc brakes with ABS are at all four corners–a rarity, but much appreciated. Six airbags are also included. A tilting steering wheel and split-folding rear seat are unexpected niceties as well.

Moreover, the Accent has impressive handling. Where other cars feel as tippy as an 80′s-era SUV, the Accent merely brings to mind your average small sedans. It definitely feels more substantial than its 2,240-lb. curb weight would lead you to expect. It’s no corner-carver, but twisty mountain roads didn’t upset it, and neither did downtown potholes. We cruised for nearly an hour at close to 90 mph, and felt at-ease the whole time–other cars in the class would have you easing off the gas at 80.

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Still, we’re looking forward to a hot-hatch version, like the SR shown at SEMA. That little three-door promises true fun, and it even looks kinda sexy. Of course, the base-model three-door hatchback that we expect is also forthcoming will probably lack most of the fun bits, but it will, at least, be practical as well as economical. Speaking of which, fuel economy–which is a major selling point for a car like this–is a he high end of the spectrum, even in the subcompact class–EPA numbers are 32/35 city/highway; bested only by the Scion xA.

The base Accent sedan will come in at under $12,000. Options like air conditioning and alloy rims will push the price closer to $14,000. That’s right in line with the Echo and xA, although the Aveo is cheaper. Still, even without the Hyundai warranty, we’d choose the Accent over those cars.

In the next couple years, the subcompact class will become a lot more crowded. Maybe it’s because the manufacturers are betting that rising fuel costs will put us all in a downsizing frame of mind, or maybe they figure we can cut traffic problems in half if we do the same to the size of our cars. Whatever, we’ll soon be seeing mini cars from Honda (the Fit, due here roughly in a year), Nissan (from the Japanese-market; the Versa should arrive on our shores in a year or so as well) and Toyota (the Yaris, which replaces the Echo, to be introduced next month–look for it in these pages). Once the field has that many players, the choice won’t be as easy as it is now. But in the meantime, the Accent rules the roost, in the baby-car segment–and with that trademark 10-year, 100,000 mile warranty, Accent buyers today will still be covered longer than those who wait two years to buy one of the competitors. For now, the Accent is a definite buy–assuming that’s what you’re into.

Volkswagen has been in a state of quiet desperation of late. While sibling/subsidiary Audi is reaping the benefits of a successful bid to compete on an equal footing with high-lux brands like BMW and Mercedes-Benz, VW itself has seen sales slump by 20% or more. Most of that slide was due to an aging product line, which is why all the sudden we’re seeing a new Passat, Jetta, Golf and so on appear on our shores. As the high-volume “bread-and-butter” car in VW’s lineup, however, it is the Jetta that is perhaps most important to VW’s future.

So it is that we spent a week in this car, just weeks after having previewed the slick Jetta GLI. After all, as much fun as that 200-horse sports sedan was, it is the base Jetta–the 2.5–that will snag most buyers. And now, having reviewed it thoroughly, we can say that it’s likely to do its part in reviving VW’s sagging sales–although unlikely to light many fires otherwise.

For one thing, it’s not a sports car. Truth be told, the base Jetta never really was–if you want fast, buy the GLI, and you will not be disappointed. But if you want German engineering, luxurious appointments, and the semi-prestige factor of the VW badge–all at an affordable price point–the Jetta 2.5 is the car for you.

From a styling standpoint, the Jetta has become controversial. Where the previous generation had an angular look much like that of a creased Italian suit, the new Jetta is rounded, modern and bright. For sure, the big, gaping grille, with the chrome bumper-band, looks pricey. The headlamps and taillights are well-crafted objets des art. Still, the effect as a whole reminds just about everyone of Toyota’s ubiquitous Corolla, and that goes against the otherwise upscale image here. Make up your own mind–if this Jetta *does* look Japanese, it certainly looks like the most expensive Japanese compact there ever was.

Under the hood is a new motor from VW, which actually owes its existence to the Lamborghini Gallardo. It’s a five-cylinder–essentially half the V-10 in the Lambo, although there’s nothing of that car’s character here. Power is rated at 150 horses, which sounds decent until you consider the portly curb weight of this VeeDub–at which point it becomes merely adequate. Zero-to-sixty mph is nearly a ten-second proposition, according to our test meter, and the five-banger design is inherently somewhat coarse. All this is reinforced by the exhaust note (especially on a cold start), which is more flatulent than anything else.

Still, sitting in the car is a lot like sitting in it’s Audi A4 sibling–it’s nice. For a compact car, in fact, the Jetta speaks of luxury and precision engineering. VW obviously spared little expense in the interior appointments; even the optional leather seating in our test car is upstaged by the soft-touch dashboard and console, rubberized-plastic buttons, and the damped movement of the glovebox, grab handles and sunglasses-holder. We especially liked the mp3-compatible, six-disc CD changer; the utility of the full audio controls on the steering wheel is trumped only by the unit’s own sound quality. We were also impressed with the large information screen between the gauges, complete with fuel-economy readout and trip calculator. All-auto up/down windows are a nice touch that we think should be on every car. And the sunroof, with the dial-an-opening control, is functional as well.

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Ergonomics are well done, especially considering how many functions are contained within. Even the dashboard lighting is upscale–we’ve never seen a nicer treatment in a car at this price point than the red and blue scheme used here.

Driving the new Jetta, while not an adrenaline-pumping proposition, is also by no means bad. There’s a certain smug confidence that comes from piloting a refined, comfortable machine such as this; you feel rich in this car. Noise from the outside world, and impacts from poorly-maintained road surfaces, are sufficiently muted, too, to help carry on the illusion. But relaxed-pace motoring is what the Jetta 2.5 is best at; it doesn’t really like to be pushed. The inline-five seems to grow coarser at high revs, as if the extra power comes at the expense of your piston rings. The six-speed automatic tranny’s “S” sport setting is as halting and jerky as it is high-revving, and makes you want to go back to “D” ASAP–or shift it yourself via the Tiptronic function. And the weighted steering feels less sporty the more you push it.

The suspension is an advanced independent design, with struts up front and a multilink design in the rear, which provides a good starting point for the high-strung GLI to be tuned into a sports sedan. In its base guise, however, the effect is softer. The ride is pleasant; perhaps the best in the compact class. It’s not exactly floaty, either. But there’s enough torque steer on hard acceleration to veer you into the next lane, and the optional 16″ rims, although they look aggressive, howl in protest at any serious cornering. No, this isn’t a car that’s meant to be hustled along–the rich, you know, don’t appreciate such impropriety.

Jetta buyers are an iconoclastic bunch; mostly college educated and liberal. They’re hip and a bit bohemian, but they appreciate the finer things when it comes to coffee and cars. Those that also appreciate speed and performance will turn to the hot GLI, the smaller Golf GTI, or maybe even the GTI R32 (the arrival of which we’re practically salivating over in anxiousness). For the rest, the Jetta provides what no other compact–besides the too-pricey and -pretentious Mercedes-Benz C-Class–German cachet, eccentric style, and a truly fine ride.

Mitsubishi has been pumping out some seriously self-confident advertising these days. Seems the corporate financial woes haven’t put a damper on the mood in the advertising department. Still, you can buy all the TV time you want, showing competitors cars bowing down (or even frightened into incontinence), but what matters is the product. And there’s no more important halo product in the Mitsubishi lineup than the Eclipse–even the Evo owes its existence to this sports coupe.

It was almost symbolic, how the last Eclipse was so underwhelming right at the time that Mitsubishi started its downward spiral. Perhaps this new Mitsu will be equally symbolic of the corporate recovery.

Of course, we’re reviewing the $19,994 base-model Eclipse GS here, not the full-zoot version with the V6. (Who knows why the press fleet’s full of four-banger cars this year?) We did drive the GT at a track event briefly, and the 101 extra horsepower and uprated suspension do make a difference.

In either iteration, the new Eclipse is a good-looking car. Where the last generation veered from the course set by the original and the second-gen “fast & furious” designs, the ’05 is a genuine spiritual successor, at least visually. (Honestly, we in the automotive journalists’ ranks were pleasantly surprised when the Eclipse turned out so close to the outrageous concept car we saw in Detroit a couple years back.) The rear haunches are muscular to the extreme; sexy and sensual. The front fascia evinces a look that’s genuinely new, evoking maybe one of the spaceships out of Star Wars. Details like the lighting fixtures are well done; the headlights with their delicate spectacle design are outdone only by the clear-lens projector-style tail lamps. Rims, even on this 4-banger GS, are blade-like 17-inchers.

Inside, the Eclipse has some attractive, space-age touches as well, although it doesn’t quite pull off the feeling of quality that the rest of the car does. There’s the center console and shifter area, with accents that mimic an aluminum-tube backbone running lengthwise through the car. The molded ‘Eclipse’ text running across the hatchback’s plastic cover over the trunk storage area–visible through the rear glass–is neat as well. But the stubborn HVAC vent mechanisms are poorly designed–one had already broken on our tester–and many materials feel substandard in the less-likely-to-be-touched areas. It’s obvious that Mitsubishi held the price down on this niche car by cutting costs here. Add that to the fact that the sport-coupe design requires an almost supine seating position and the poor visibility anywhere but up front, and you’d have to be a pretty dedicated Eclipse enthusiast to want to spend every commuting hour in here. Still, you’ll look good doing it.

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Cars like this, however, are (or should be) more about the drive than anything else. And here, we were pleasantly surprised. The more time we spent in the new Eclipse, the more we liked it. Don’t get us wrong; it’s not the nimble little pocket-rocket the first couple were–it almost feels more of a grand tourer. But our 170-horse 2.4-liter was a free-revving gem, and the 5-speed manual had gears perfectly spaced for speed. MIVEC variable vale timing makes up for the old-tech iron construction–at least at high rpm. Zero-to-sixty happens in about eight seconds–not stellar by any means, especially when compared to something like the similarly-priced ’06 Civic Si we like so much–but it feels quick all the same.

And the ride was pleasantly surprising, too. Not at all punishing, the suspension allows for the perfect amount of body roll without ever feeling sketchy. The suspension is independent at both ends, with disc brakes up front and drums in the rear–old-tech but it works. On the track this car would be left in the dust, but on public roads it’s a good mix of comfort and a sporty feel. Paired with the peppy drivetrain, this suspension setup makes this a car you want to break laws with–maybe not break records, but certainly laws.

The 3.8-liter six-cylinder will run you another four grand–and gets you another 100 horsepower as well. That’s more of a street-racer, and it’s likely to be the much more serious car. Still the base Eclipse–and the one that most customers will choose–turned out to be a joy, all faults aside. The Eclipse has always been a sports-car for the enthusiast on a budget. Like many of those buyers, it’s grown up some–it’s now less about speed than style; more about suppleness than sport. But it’s still fun, and unarguably good-looking. With an automatic tranny, it might be a different story–but even the 4-banger Eclipse turns out to be a ride we can respect.

It was this reporter’s birthday, and one of the last weeks of warm sun and late days–the kind of week that just begs for a fun car. Perhaps it was kismet that the all-new Miata–the newest version of the car that practically *invented* fun–was in our driveway. Perhaps it was the pleading emails we sent to Mazda. Whatever, we were grateful–and here’s why…

Balance, in a word. Mazda’s little roadster has always had it, in spades. A balance between power and comfort, style and function, ride and handling–and between front and back, with a perfect 50/50 weight distribution.(A note on the name game: in a perplexing move, Mazda had decided to rename this car just “MX-5,” which is what’s it’s always been called elsewhere in the world, although public outcry forced them to retain the “Miata” moniker in some advertising and so on. Still, “MX-5″ is all you’ll see on the car and the paperwork, and theoretically, we’ll all grow to accept that alphanumeric mumbo-jumbo–it goes better with the Mazda3 and Mazda6 and RX-8 and so on–to the point where they can safely abandon “Miata” altogether. Good luck, I say.)

Take the exterior design. The styling says ‘sports car,’ surely, but not to the extreme. The rims, for instance–the 17″ turbine design is certainly sporting, but there’s just enough sidewall to keep your bones from rattling. The lines themselves are clearly evolutionary from the previous models, although the MX-5 has gained a couple inches in most dimensions, and a hundred or so pounds. The basic oval shape, and the classic oval grille remain, so purists should be appeased. In fact, the new MX-5 might be the best-looking of all the baby roadster class–which the Miata itself spawned.

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There’s balance inside as well. With only 50 cubic feet of passenger space, quarters are clearly close–yet there’s a dose of luxury as well; perhaps more than ever before. The leather seats are suitable bolstered, but the hides themselves are high-quality and supple. Audio controls on the steering wheel (redundant though they may seem in a car where the stereo itself is mere inches from the wheel) are another high-end touch. There are even four cupholders, so two-fisted drinkers can rest easy (okay, we don’t get it either).

And then there’s that top. It’s not a power unit–this is a $21-27,000 car–but there’s a single latch and you don’t have to leave your seat to raise or lower it. It’s also one of the new, clean Z-fold designs, where no tonneau cover is needed. Once the top is up, the several layers and interior liner create a tight seal against wind, rain and noise, and give the car a cozy, if dark, ambience. Luxurious, yet practical–and efficient.

Okay, okay–enough about the features. Just like we were, you’re probably aching to get behind the wheel–and you won’t be disappointed. There’s a reason the Miata is the benchmark for cars as snooty as the Mercedes-Benz SLK and BMW’s Z3/4–and still is. First of all, there’s that sweet little four-cylinder. With 170 horses on tap, and a 6700-rpm redline, you might think it’d be high-strung, but it isn’t. Instead, this new 2-liter (.2 more than the outgoing car; and 28 more horsepower) is a paragon of smoothness and silky power delivery. The new dual exhaust system adds both power and a more menacing exhaust note. Sixty mph comes up in a scant 6.6 seconds–not Porsche territory, but plenty quick for an affordable ragtop. And it feels fast, too.

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The powertrain isn’t the big story here, though. Neither is the ultra-precise six-speed stick-shift, with the standard setting shifter that feels like a hydraulic machine. Instead, it’s the other mechanical bits that really get our juices flowing. The chassis is stiffer than many hardtops in recent memory. The suspension setup is just about perfect as well–the front is a unequal-length control arm layout; in back there’s a multilink design derived from the awesome RX-8. The rack-and-pinion steering setup provides steering that’s truly telepathic, too–or you can just steer with your right foot; one of our favorite Miata traits. Put it all together, and you get a Miata that feels like an oversize go-kart–slicker than just about anything else on wheels. It corners on a dime, without protest from the tires–and practically begs for more.

It’s easy to see why the Miata has been a favorite of enthusiasts all over. This new MX-5 simply takes everything we’ve loved about it to another level, without adding anything extraneous. Having finished our week-long test of this well-balanced sporty roadster, we think it’d be best balancing out that family SUV in our own garage…