The Five Hundred feels like an oversized European car (why would it feel like anything else?). Of course "European" is a broad generalization and Volvo isn't in the same league as BMW, but the Five Hundred has a coordinated, got-it-together feel that Ford rarely bakes into its home-grown sedans. Having grown up with a Crown Vic in my own driveway, it surprised me to be driving a big Ford with steering that takes more than one finger to turn and doesn't totally ignore my hands. Not threatening to sit on its muffler on launches or scrape its chin on asphalt when braking - that's new too. The Five Hundred is in no danger of being fun, but it doesn't have that "riding a wooly mammoth through a steeplechase" feel either.
It actually holds the road quite well. If you drive a Five Hundred like you're supposed to, our car's 18-inch wheels and Pirelli tires will give more grip than you'll need. Lean isn't excessive considering the size of this thing, the brakes are firm, and I never found the turning circle getting in the way. Volvos aren't known for having the smoothest rides, but perhaps because of the extended 113-inch wheelbase, the Five Hundred positively sails along the road on the same front strut, rear multilink, dual stabilizer bar suspension. Noise levels, likewise, rank slightly better than average with road roar being the biggest culprit. The automatic has six gears (most in class) and it shifts between them smoothly, if frequently. Thanks to the wide ratio spread of the gears, the engine turns at a relaxed 2,000 RPM at 70 MPH, and a lot of other times it's loafing along at barely over a grand, which all means you'll never hear more of the engine or waste any more gas than necessary. I was annoyed by the lockout Ford put between Neutral and Drive, and some might not like the lack of a manual shift feature or even a "3" position on the selector.
Sooner or later we have to get to the engine, the one item in the Five Hundred that everyone loves to hate. This motor has been slammed enough times to make the word "underpowered" almost cliché. It's also not totally deserved. True, it's the exact same engine that's been in use since the 1996 Taurus and its 203 horsepower is 77 ponies shy of the Avalon's herd. But this is still a dual-cam, 24-valve, chain-driven, all-aluminum engine (when was the last time you saw one standard in a GM car?) and it doesn't sound like nails-on-a-chalkboard like some reviews imply. The Five Hundred is weakest among its big-guy peers, but it's at least as fast as all the 4-cylinder mid-size cars (Accord, Altima, Malibu) and I don't remember anyone calling them slow. Dare I say it, the Five Hundred's power is adequate. And are you honestly worried of gramps in that Buick LeSabre wanting to drag?
I'd feel better about all this defending if the Five Hundred were able to top 22 MPG. That's no better than the Avalon; did we give up all those horses for nothing? And if you were wondering about the redline, it's a shamefully low 5,800 RPM. Not that you'd know, since Ford made sure not to note this telling statistic on their website, the owner's manual, or even marking it on the tachometer.
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