If you've driven any Dodge, much less a Dodge Charger, you might gather that the 2006 model moves about with an unusual finesse. The steering and suspension don't seem shaky in their transactions and the automatic transmission knows what to do. No surprise there: this trio of cars represents the biggest merger of cars following the biggest merger of companies. Yes, Dodge plucked a wealth of key components from a late-model Mercedes, and indeed, an echo of E-class emanates through the controls.
The biggest benefit was easy and free access to rear-wheel-drive. Chrysler could have done the rest on their own, but RWD is a time-forgotten tradition for the third of the Big Three, having not built any such passenger cars since its dark days in the 80s. The Charger makes good use of its push-me nature: hard acceleration puts the load on the right set of tires, the tail can be snapped out in corners (until the stability control catches it), and there's just a purer all-around feel than the old Intrepid could hope for. Clearly, Chrysler's getting some mileage out of this mixed marriage.
Of course, we Americans have a tendency to concentrate on the centerpiece in even the biggest of pictures. So in spite of all the German in the chassis, our attention drifts to the 100% American Beef Hemi engine, now sized at 6.1 monstrous liters after Chrysler increased the bores (and raised the compression from 9.6 > 10.3, raised the redline from 5,800 > 6,400, and strengthened it elsewhere). You'll know that's a Hemi pumping under there; the Charger's nervous shuddering at idle gives it away. This all-muscle motor clobbers these two tons of steel to 60 MPH in 4.7 scant seconds, whooping any car that's ever worn the name "Camaro." With horsepower and torque both in excess of 400, there's thrust everywhere, lots of it, right now.
Straight-line excellence is a given, but the Charger also holds its own out in the twisties. The steering cuts quickly, accurately and the all-independent suspension shrugs off most bumps - most muscle cars would fail right here - and as long as there's enough space, the bulk isn't much bother. Helping every situation is the glue-like adhesion of the tires, which cling to the road all the way up to 0.90g. 20-inch tires apparently solve all problems. Also, the AutoStick transmission is always propped for a spontaneous manual shift (though it feels weird to nudge the lever left/right instead of up/down, and you must shift to Neutral and back to restore normal operation) and you can always send thunder through the canyon with your right foot.
On the other hand, you don't forget the bulk completely. And Mercedes was never a true talent in steering feel; the Charger's could be less numb. Third, the brake pedal feels spongy at speed, making you press hard and unsurely before deceleration begins. The numbers do show those Brembo brakes stopping the car short, though. And the electronic throttle pedal feels perfectly precise - pretty important considering the power at hand here.
Achtung: the Just-Add-More approach to performance has monetary costs. A huge cast-iron engine needing a huge car needing huge 14-inch brakes clamping down huge tires calls for a huge fuel bill. I got just short of 17 MPG. In mostly highway driving. On premium fuel. Those offended by the $2,100 Gas-Guzzler Tax should chew on this: the Charger SRT-8 will drink that much in gas every 13,000 miles anyway. And expect to stop for refills every 280 miles.
There are some other costs. The SRT-8 gets the firmest springs and bushings of the Charger bunch (no mention about shocks) and lowest ride height, and despite the Mercedes refinement in its bump-suppression methods, the ride is too busy to be called any better than mediocre. You go right up or down with every rise and dip in the road, and the sharpest ones come with a really loud suspension BANG and/or the rattling of miscellaneous interior pieces. Could this be the consequence of taking a somewhat aged platform (1996) and stretching the wheelbase out to a truck-like 10 feet long? Likewise, the 20-inch dubs make a lot of noise, even if the rest is quiet. Lastly, low-hanging body parts mean you'll scrape the chin on half the world's driveways, and the 39-foot turning circle isn't great.
At least the Hemi is a citizen of model behavior. Unlike muscle cars of days past, its addicting and authoritative bassline only shows up when you order it; when you don't, it politely fades into the distance. Being the Charger's main thrill, though, you'll probably be hearing it a lot.
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