There’s no denying the element of pure self-indulgence in piloting a Mercedes-Benz SL roadster as a long-term test vehicle. However, isn’t that precisely the allure? These luxurious two-seater sports convertibles are designed to deliver an experience, a reward, a statement.
But beyond the obvious hedonism, there must be more to the SL’s remarkable legacy, a lineage stretching back sixty years to the iconic 300SL hardtop of 1954 and the subsequent 190SL convertible.
Or is there?
Check back with me in four months. While our typical long-term evaluations at Wheels span six months, Mercedes-Benz was only willing to entrust us with this $240,000 beauty for a slightly shorter period.
The model currently under scrutiny is the freshly updated SL400. This iteration received a significant facelift and a potent new powerplant in January. In keeping with Mercedes-Benz’s modern nomenclature, which often divorces badge numbers from engine displacement, the SL400 boasts a state-of-the-art 3.0-liter direct-injection V6 engine, enhanced with twin-turbocharging to produce a robust 245kW and 480Nm of torque. The latter arrives with force from a mere 1600rpm. In this era where performance and efficiency are expected to coexist, the SL400 claims a 0-100km/h sprint in just 5.2 seconds while sipping a frugal 7.3L/100km on the combined cycle.
That fuel consumption figure, however, remains elusive in my real-world experience thus far. My drastically shortened, 2015-spec, 4km commute to the office – farewell, Mt Martha, you were a joy – is currently yielding an average closer to 20L/100km. Yes, you read that correctly. Though, in retrospect, it’s not entirely surprising; that brief 4km journey often stretches to 12 minutes, punctuated by frequent stops and starts.
A couple of freeway jaunts over the Christmas holiday, shuttling relatives to and from the airport – one at a time, and travel light, please – saw the SL400’s trip computer report a more palatable 10.9L/100km. Still, this remains some distance from the advertised combined figure.
Over our initial weeks and 454km together, the Mercedes-Benz SL400 has returned a middling 11.9L/100km. Next month’s planned excursion to Phillip Island should provide the SL with an opportunity to showcase its long-distance cruising capabilities and, hopefully, introduce some highway balance to the currently urban-centric fuel economy average.
I must accept some responsibility for the SL400’s considerable thirst. The engine is genuinely thrilling! And the soundtrack is equally compelling. It’s a deep, resonant rumble, like a distant earthquake – all thrum, boom, and growl. There’s even a deliberate crackle on throttle lift-off in Sport mode, a subtle but appreciated touch for any enthusiast.
This SL400 is designated as the ‘entry-level’ model, the starting point in a range that culminates with the formidable twin-turbocharged V12 Mercedes-AMG SL65, priced at a staggering $481,000. The SL400’s $229,000 price tag, while significant, is less than half that figure. And while the performance chasm between the two is substantial, the visual distinctions are far less pronounced. It seems even those exploring the ‘affordable’ end of the SL spectrum desire to project a certain image while enjoying wind-in-hair motoring.
Our particular test vehicle benefits from the optional $9,000 Designo package, which incorporates AMG styling elements, striking 19-inch alloy wheels, and a luxurious black and white leather interior – a color combination that, perhaps inadvertently, subtly signals my allegiance to the Collingwood Magpies AFL team to fellow road users.
The SL400’s ride quality on those 19-inch wheels is commendable, provided the road surface is cooperative. Sharp road imperfections are transmitted into the cabin, particularly with the roof lowered, but the sensation is fleeting and significantly improved compared to previous SL generations, some of which tipped the scales at over two tonnes. This substantially lighter 1655kg model feels noticeably more composed and sure-footed.
The steering is a genuine revelation; it’s responsive and imparts a surprising agility to this grand roadster, encouraging it to pivot into corners with an eagerness amplified by the driver’s seating position, set well back within the wheelbase. While outright road feel isn’t abundant, engaging with the front end becomes challenging amidst school zones and congested shopping precincts. Bring on next month’s open road driving.
The most significant challenge facing this Mercedes-Benz SL400, however, comes from within… from me. On two key fronts.
Firstly, I confess to struggling to fully embrace the allure of convertibles, especially in a sun-drenched climate like ours. On most summer days, the sun’s intensity is simply too punishing, even for my generously carpeted scalp. Nevertheless, in the pursuit of journalistic rigor, I pledge to embrace topless motoring as frequently as conditions permit.
Secondly, personal perception. There’s a nagging sense of impostor syndrome when driving this quarter-of-a-million-dollar roadster around town with the roof down, particularly during peak hour. It feels akin to a minor celebrity attempting to pass as an A-list star.
I wonder if the SL400 will manage to alter either of these preconceived notions?
ROOFLESS REVELATIONS
With the folding hardtop neatly stowed away, the opportunity to fully appreciate the SL’s internal combustion symphony is amplified. The new twin-turbo six diligently strives for an ideal aural equilibrium between sporty aggression and refined luxury, and largely succeeds.
Even so, it’s a far cry from the unadulterated auditory assault of a Kawasaki ZX-9R motorcycle I once owned.
I fitted an aftermarket exhaust to that sports bike, enhancing its character and volume – without becoming obnoxious – and unleashing a glorious crackle, pop, and burble on deceleration. Evocative. Thrilling. Addictive.
It elevated my enjoyment of that motorcycle to new heights. It might have added a few horsepower, too, but for me, the enhanced soundtrack alone justified the expense.
A more overtly dramatic soundtrack is available for the Mercedes-Benz SL, but it comes bundled with an AMG price premium.
Update #2
Never did I anticipate that doors would present a challenge. The concept is fundamentally straightforward: open door, step through, close door. A maneuver I’ve executed successfully for four decades. Well, save for the occasional clumsy misstep, often attributable to overindulgence in alcohol.
The SL is equipped with elongated doors that demand a generous three feet of clearance to operate effectively; otherwise, the opening is severely restricted. Which it frequently is. This necessitates a peculiar, contorted vertical limbo as I attempt to extract myself from the cockpit.
Scuff marks on the door’s lower panel bear testament to my less-than-graceful exits as I contort my legs rearward to locate the widest point of the aperture. Then, in an effort to avoid scraping the adjacent vehicle, I instinctively place my fingers directly in the line of fire between my door’s trailing edge and the other car’s door panel. The tighter the parking space, the more my fingers endure. It’s never an elegant procedure.
The only locations guaranteeing an effortless exit are my own driveway and kerbside parking spots. Everywhere else, it’s a compromise, a consequence of Australian parking space dimensions. I’m not advocating for larger parking bays, but the SL ownership experience has illuminated why affluent individuals often embrace yoga.
I’ve also adopted the habit of keeping a baseball cap in the car. Last month, I pledged to drive with the roof down as often as feasible. This, too, has proven less straightforward than anticipated, though not due to the intensity of the summer sun, which I expected. The impediment is the delay incurred each time I prepare to drive.
The SL’s retractable roof refuses to operate if the car is moving above a snail’s pace. Mercedes-Benz claims it will raise or lower at speeds up to 15km/h. My interpretation of the speedometer suggests the threshold is closer to 10km/h, a speed easily exceeded, even within my driveway. Consequently, I’ve been compelled to integrate roof operation into my pre-drive routine, immediately after fastening my seatbelt and pressing the start button. It’s a mere 15 seconds, yet it feels interminable.
The sensation of being ‘on display’ is heightened while the roof performs its mechanical ballet in public. Furthermore, the roof switch occupies my left hand, precluding me from simultaneously setting the navigation, adjusting the radio, engaging the stubby gear lever, or indeed, anything else. A quintessential First World problem, undoubtedly.
Listen to me lament about what amounts to a mere 30 seconds per journey. Yet, it has surprised me how much I genuinely resent it. When was the last instance you idled for 30 seconds without subconsciously reaching for your smartphone? Waiting for an elevator, queuing for coffee, at a bus stop…
Admittedly, I’m not catching the bus. Driving the Mercedes-Benz SL400 is considerably more appealing, and the passenger beside me is unlikely to suffer from body odor or engage in self-directed muttering.
Farewell
Wheels’ resident contrarian, John Carey, staunchly adheres to the law of diminishing returns, which posits that value does not increase proportionally with price. JC wields this principle most effectively during our annual Car of the Year testing week.
The argument, in essence, is that a $100,000 car is not twice the car of a $50,000 car, and therefore should be judged less favorably on value. Superficially, it appears logical: a $100,000 sedan cannot accommodate twice the occupants, nor will it accelerate twice as quickly, or cover twice the distance on the same fuel, or offer twice the safety and features.
There’s an inherent flaw in this simplistic logic. Is 2m² twice the size of 1m²? No, it’s four times larger, as both length and width are doubled. So, if only one quantifiable attribute doubles – say, engine output – is that sufficient to invalidate the law of diminishing returns?
Automobiles are far too intricate to be evaluated using such a reductive approach. And it’s inaccurate to assert that luxury or sports cars represent poor value. On the contrary, they offer exceptional value to their intended owners.
Indeed, I am about to argue that a $238,500 Mercedes-Benz SL400 represents good value.
Consider the subtle red ambient lighting that delicately illuminates the cabin at night. Or the transmission’s automatic engagement of park when a door is opened (reassuring me that I was fully within my parking space…). And speaking of doors, the door pockets are designed to accommodate an umbrella. Perhaps this partially explains their considerable length.
This SL also incorporates a range of roadster-specific value-added features, most notably the electrically retractable hardtop. It wouldn’t be a roadster without it, but don’t underestimate the engineering effort required to devise a system to stow said roof while sacrificing less than a third of the SL’s trunk capacity.
And what about the trunk’s hands-free access feature, activated by a kick (both to open and close)? Incredibly convenient when your hands are full, although I do feel somewhat foolish performing the one-legged activation dance.
The front seats are equipped with both heating and cooling functions, along with air vents to warm your neck. The leather upholstery chosen for these seats partially reflects solar heat, a welcome feature on a sweltering Melbourne day. And there’s a convenient master window switch that simultaneously raises or lowers all four windows.
Acoustically optimized voice-control infotainment system, autonomous driving assistance features… How do we quantify the value of these technologies, which undoubtedly require millions in research and development? And how much value should we attribute to the quieter cabin, the more compliant ride, the effortless acceleration, and that evocative exhaust note?
You grasp my point. The SL400 is not seven times the car of a well-equipped Mazda 3, but its ‘true’ features list arguably is.
Those who subscribe to the law of diminishing returns will never perceive financial value in luxury cars like the SL roadster. But for the fortunate few who can afford it, the SL’s value extends beyond the purely quantifiable. It resides in all those thoughtful, value-added touches that subtly yet tangibly enhance the ownership experience.
And let’s not overlook the ego. That, after all, is central to the appeal of every Mercedes-Benz. And no Mercedes-Benz embodies this better than the indulgent and decadent SL roadster.
At its core, however, lies an impressive and exhilarating driving machine. It rides beautifully, sounds potent, accelerates effortlessly, and steers with both agility and precision. All while pampering you more lavishly than most vehicles on the market.
It possesses a few minor quirks, which I’ve documented in previous installments, but none that significantly detract from the overall experience.
So, the pivotal question: Would I purchase one? No. My automotive preferences prioritize outright performance over sheer panache. But for those who prefer a more relaxed pace, and for whom driving should be a sumptuous rather than strictly speedy affair, I wholeheartedly recommend experiencing the Mercedes-Benz SL400.
You’ll be captivated.
Glenn Butler
