Herr Doktor, your ride is here
The corporate emblem that graces the grille of the 2004.5 Volvo S40 -- a circle against a diagonal stroke -- is taken from the old Swedish symbol for iron. The word “Volvo” in the circle derives from the Latin word revolvo, which roughly translates as “I rotate.”
I rotate?
Excuse me? Six months of frozen darkness every year, and the best the company’s founding fathers could come up with was “I rotate”?
Sometime in the 1950s, Volvo sexed up its corporate logo, adding to the circle an arrow pointing at a provocative angle -- the universal symbol for maleness -- that was intended to denote strength and vitality.
Decades passed, yet despite Volvo’s iconic affinity with vital rotating males everywhere, the brand is not exactly the extra Y chromosome of transportation. Quite the contrary. Volvo’s gender politics are distinctly distaff, with safety and familial obligation easily trumping the sorts of values cherished by the aroused arrows of the world.
Little known and less appreciated are the company’s performance variants, the T5s, which infuse the company’s safe-and-sane offerings with not-insignificant amounts of testosterone.
For example: The standard-issue engine in the newly redesigned S40 compact sedan is a 2.4-liter, 168-horsepower, inline-4 -- adequate but, let’s face it, somewhat short in the arrow department.
The latest S40 T5, on the other hand, is powered by a turbocharged 2.5-liter inline-5 engine producing 218 horsepower and 236 pound-feet of torque, a quite respectable bit of rotating vitality capable of pulling our battleship-gray test car to 60 mph in 6.3 seconds. With its six-speed manual transmission, grippy 205/50 17-inch Pirellis, pleasantly hefted and quick steering, firm-yet-compliant ride and well-damped body motions, the S40 T5 is a hugely likable sports sedan, well balanced, well sorted and $30,000 well spent.
I encourage you to sit in one. And rotate.
The S40 models are creations of global cross-ownership: Volvo is owned by Ford Motor Co., and the S40 is the Swedish company’s version of Ford’s C1 global front-drive platform. Ford also owns a big stake in Mazda Motor Corp., so the S40 shares much of its dirty bits with the Mazda3 and the next-generation Ford Focus.
The C1 platform is palpably rigid, as solid as an aircraft carrier’s deck plates, and so a kind of unexpected density inhabits the car, from the well-isolated steering column to the stiff ratcheting of the hand brake. The suspension -- front struts and rear multi-links -- is attached to the chassis with an assortment of cleverly designed couplings and bushings that successfully numb out lots of small-amplitude road static; the Volvo’s progressive-rate springs provide good ride compliance and then tighten up for stable handling at higher cornering loads. Are we rotating yet?
I haven’t driven the Mazda3, and I’ll be keen to see whether all this essential goodness transfers to the S40’s platform sibling, which sells for substantially less than the Scandinavian.
Whatever commonalities there might be, the S40 is a distinct car, or at least distinctly Volvo. It shares the same beveled shoulder line that appears on everything from the XC90 sport utility vehicle to the S60 mid-size sedan, as well as the mogul-shaped canopy and the bluff, upright rear end. The S40 is a fair bit wider and slightly taller than its predecessor and, though slightly shorter overall, has a longer wheelbase. So it has a very square stance.
The styling has a lot of tension in it, perhaps a little too much. From some angles the car appears knotted and stubby --
a function of where the roofline lands as it intersects with the rear deck. That said, the extra visibility provided by the small window in the roof rear pillar proved quite welcome in the desperate throes of wheel-to-wheel commuting; the car’s split-view parabolic side mirrors supply superior views of the traffic barreling up your backside.
The S40 solidifies its base, as they say in politics, by offering a comprehensive list of safety systems, including “smart” air bags front and side, and side-curtain air bags that deploy in time-
delay fashion to increase protection in case of rollover. The S40’s superstructure is constructed with metals of varying malleability for better crash-pulse management and cabin integrity.
Also included are the by- now-familiar Volvo SIPS side-impact structural reinforcement, and the WHIPS anti-whiplash seat system, which allows the seatback to collapse to absorb the energy of a rear-end collision. Volvo has a Pentagon-like penchant for acronyms.
On the active-safety side, traction control, anti-lock braking and emergency brake assist systems are all standard on the S40, and stability control a stand-alone option. All of these systems act on the car’s hefty four-wheel disc brakes.
But the S40 T5 reaches beyond Volvo’s typical, sobriety-at-all-costs constituency with elegant, even inspired design-haus touches. The car’s signature hardware is its metallic central console, a curved panel bridging empty space between the gearshift and the upper dash. Hidden behind the panel is a catchall tray, and if you didn’t know it was there, it would be an excellent place to lose your cellphone.
At the center of the console is an audio-climate-telephone-navigation control panel designed to look like a TV remote control, and it’s just about that intuitive. No matter. I’ll put up with a little aggravation for the sake of cool design. Four rotary dials flank the control panel, providing basic functions for climate and audio.
There are a couple of missteps to report: On the macro-ergonomics side, I can’t understand why Volvo designers situated the ignition lock directly behind the thick windshield-wiper stalk. This makes it difficult to turn the key without flipping on the wipers -- positively no one looks cool doing this. It doesn’t help matters that the key fob is the size of a pack of Marlboros. And where, exactly, is the car’s hood release? Anybody who finds that should be looking for WMDs.
Our T5 test car was upholstered with a naughty-feeling foam-backed nylon weave a little like support hose (ewww!). Light-colored stitching, like that on designer jeans, ran across the sitz region of the well-bolstered sport seats. The overall cabin environment was swank and soulful, pure and premium, and just strange enough to qualify as Scandinavian.
The car was colored curiously. The haze gray of the new Volvo S40 T5 has been selected as the car’s “launch” color, because, of course, nothing is sexier than bread mold. This tint -- evocative of lead fishing weights lowered through a hole in the ice at polar twilight -- is so depressing it bums me out just to write about it. I’m keen to see this car in another color, which is to say any other color.
My biggest complaint with the car regards its six-speed manual transmission, which the S40 T5 shares with the S60 R. This gearbox has such a weightless, frictionless, hide-and-seek feel to it that it’s often quite difficult to land the right gear. I’d like a lot more positive mechanical feel in the shift gate. And please give the limp clutch a double dose of Viagra.
The maximally rotated S40 T5 will go out the dealer’s doors at more than $32,000, over a base manufacturer’s suggested retail price of $26,990. Later this year, all-wheel-drive versions of both the standard S40 and the T5 will become available, as will an AWD V50 T5 wagon. (Looking for a good used people mover? One of my favorite Volvos is a mid-’90s V70 T5 wagon with no-profile Pirellis and a big yanking turbocharger. You’ll never be late for soccer practice again.)
Volvo has had a good run in the United States lately, mainly on the sales strength of its
luxury ute XC90. The company has high expectations for the various S40 models, with projected annual U.S. sales of about 28,000. For that to materialize, however, Volvo as a brand has to appeal to a wider, hipper and leaner audience than just risk-averse suburban parents. In other words, Volvo has to emphasize the arrow.
The S40 T5 points the way.
Times automotive critic Dan Neil can be reached at dan.neil@latimes.com.
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(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX)
2004.5 Volvo S40 T5
Wheelbase: 103.9 inches
Length: 175.9 inches
Curb weight: 3,126 pounds
Powertrain: 2.5-liter, 20-valve inline-5 engine, variable-valve timing, intercooled and turbocharged; six-speed manual transmission; front-wheel drive
Horsepower: 218 at 5,000 rpm
Torque: 236 pound-feet at 1,500 to 4,800 rpm
Acceleration: Zero to 60 mph in 6.3 seconds
EPA fuel rating: 22 miles per gallon city, 31 mpg highway
Price: base, $26,990, plus $685 delivery; as tested, $32,240
Final thoughts: Arrow smithing
Source: Volvo Cars of North America, Car and Driver
