2013 Cadillac ATS 2.0L Turbo review

The following might seem blasphemous to a scale not seen since Copernicus brought us down a notch in the universe. But given a choice between the BMW 3-series -- of which I drove recently, in 335i M-Sport guise -- and the Cadillac ATS, which I drove in 2.0T, AWD, six-speed automatic trim, I'd swing my leg across the doorsill of the latter. It may be because secretly, deep down inside, I want a 1974 Fleetwood Sixty Special Talisman with Medici crushed velour upholstery and shag carpeting, neither of which are available in the ATS. But neither is the ATS 19.5 feet: it's shorter than the 3-series, which seems to have made all the difference.

To be entirely fair, the ATS has some glaring flaws. The 2.0-liter turbocharged engine revs happily and pulls hard, but it sounds awful -- as coarse as a Chinese lawnmower that's choking on crabgrass. As coarse as your uncle Vinny who got kicked out of your bar mitzvah. Startup is rough and clattery, like a set of wind-up cartoon dentures. It -- and the transmission -- annoyingly hang off revs in a manner more akin to a three-speed Chevy Sprint -- or, hell, a Cimarron, the only time you'll hear me mention that odious word in this diatribe. The transmission is a six-speed Hydra-Matic auto, and while it shifts quickly there's a noticeable gap between second and third. This is, coincidentally, where one will spend most of their shifting. At least the paddle shifters are honed from real, genuine earth ores. Heavy metal, baby.

The six-speed manual has a host of problems as well -- namely, a brittle shifter and a flimsy clutch that feels like it's leaking -- but Cadillac seemingly makes those row-your-own models available for the purposes of 1.) a tax write-off; 2.) homologation for a yet-unannounced Penske demolition derby series; or 3.) getting journalists to stop tweeting their complaints about a lack of a manual in a manner that will ban them from Chevrolet's or Porsche's press fleets.

It's impossible these days to mention a Cadillac without its onerous CUE system, which if anything is the company's attempt to emulate every facet of BMW's experience with iDrive -- complaints, kvetching, lost customers and all. Like the first iDrive in 2001, CUE is slow. Like the first iDrive on that 7-series, CUE is confusing. Like the first iDrive which was all but written off by enthusiasts and journalists alike, there's no escaping it as it marches onwards towards forced relevance, implanting itself onto everything from the newest XTS to the retrofitted SRX. And, perhaps most presciently, it all feels like so much technology slathered on with a big stick for technology's sake. The great irony herein is that after spending time in a Chevrolet Spark, the cheapest car in GM's fleet, Chevy's MyLink was beautiful, well designed, and most importantly, responsive. CUE is seemingly hobbled by the revelation that because the back screen buzzes at your finger in case you've lost all sensory input from anywhere north of your collarbone, it needs to be fiendishly complicated and worthy of an entire Sam Kinison routine of swears.

But if this is the future, then I'm of a forgiving sort. Don't write it off yet: CUE is a technology in its infancy, as yet overwhelmed by what it has to perform as a newborn child would be by the MCAT. And behind the swearing, a glimmer of promise: for one, it's cool how the navigation screen minimizes all menu options when driving along, using the entire screen's real estate to show the map. Wave your hand over it, and the menu buttons reappear -- just in time for you to stab at an option. What sorcery is this? The map can be pinched and rotated with two fingers, much like a certain product from a fruit-themed technology company. The graphics are sufficiently sharp to impress the plebes. (As an aside, imagine the techno-futuristic “Tron” world that we've created where we discuss a car's graphical capabilities. “Back to the Future II” never saw that coming.)

The major flaws out of the way, here are some more: the seats feel lumpy. No, the lumbar support isn't on. I never could fathom why the trick HUD turned itself off after the second day of driving, and then never turned back on again. And the wiper stalk on the right side is 3 millimeters closer to the paddles than on the left stalk. (Where else can you find such compelling investigation?)

Actually, that's about it.

Need I remind you that, as I declared at the beginning of this missive, I preferred the ATS over the 3-series. Why? It certainly wasn't for its rough start-up. Rather, after some punishing canyon drives, the brilliance of the ATS slowly manifested itself, worming its way deep into my brain -- yes, the part that rewards me for eating a salad and opening a door for an old lady and doing something nice for a stranger like letting him into traffic. This is a wonderful, beautiful car, inside and out, one that's eminently livable and loveable. The chassis is as tight as a Cirque du Soleil rope rigging, the steering communicative and dead-on accurate, the pedal placement nothing short of ideal, with a responsive throttle and easily modulated brakes. Put the suspension in Sport mode and watch it corner damn near flat. Even the AWD system gets in the fun, allowing some rear-wheel looseness, some deliberate slight imperfection.

The ATS simply feels more engaging, tauter, and more comfortable from a driver's standpoint that goes beyond how cushy the seats are. (As previously mentioned, they aren't.) Twenty years ago, this would have been insane. But my, how roles have reversed: the 3-series is the more disconnected and bulky-feeling, and the ATS is far more adept at allowing a driver to get in and immediately feel comfortable driving fast. Few cars offer that immediate gratification. The Germans usually don't.

The ATS is proof positive of the idea that something can be greater than the sum of its parts. It means even more for Cadillac. It took 10 years for the Standard of the World to reinvent itself with the first CTS, a car that marked as widespread a philosophical and commercial change as this current ATS. This car is as much of a brand re-inventor as the 2002 was for BMW. And if I have to be the David E. Davis of the ATS, then so be it. The ATS is wonderful -- Yahweh willing, it can only improve from here.

2013 Cadillac ATS 2.0L Turbo Premium

Base Price: $45,995

As-Tested Price: $51,705

Drivetrain: 2.0-liter turbocharged I4; AWD, six-speed automatic

Output: 272 hp @ 5,500 rpm, 260 lb-ft @ 1,700 rpm

Curb Weight: 3,543 lb

Fuel Economy (EPA City/Highway/Combined): 20/30/24 mpg

AW Observed Fuel Economy: 22.0 mpg

Options: Driver assist package including adaptive cruise control, side blind zone alert, rear cross traffic alert, automatic braking, automatic collision preparation ($3,220); Thunder gray ChromaFlair paint ($995); cold weather package including heated seats and steering wheel ($600)