HERE’S MY succinct verdict on the Jaguar XFR: it is sublime, a car which deserves plenty of critical and commercial success… and we really wish it the latter so it keeps the venerable Jaguar name going in these difficult times.

    Now – to lead into the longer review – here’s my caveat, which makes things slightly more problematic: it’s not a market leader. This opinion may surprise you, if you’ve managed to read any of the contemporary road tests of the Jag. ‘Better than an M5!’ scream most. ‘The new supersaloon benchmark!’ yell others. But we are far from convinced.

    The reason for our doubting nature arises from what you define as – and expect from – a supersaloon. If you are after a luxurious, well-equipped and handsome gentleman’s express that covers motorway miles with ease and has accessible performance at all revs, then the XFR will be your first port of call with your £60,000. No doubt about it. But we find that thought a bit odd. Surely a softly-sprung, auto-only car which is most at home on dual-carriageways and bigger is in fact just a very fast executive barge? Like a 7-Series, or the XJR, or even a non-R XF? What does the XFR actually do (apart from go a tiny bit faster) than these others don’t, which would merit it being bestowed the supersaloon tag?

     To us here at ‘Dep-O’, a supersaloon is one of these already-rapid executive barges that has been blessed with the chassis and engine from a supercar. Something that you know will lap the circuit of your choice in record time, and disdainfully demolish a B-road just as capably as it cruises the M4. We’ll happily sacrifice a bit of outright comfort and lazy torque for incisive road manners, firm body control and the feeling of megalomania you get when you extend the maniacal engine.

    And by these parameters, the XFR is no supersaloon benchmark.

    Sure, people will say: “Look, nobody actually buys supersaloons and takes them on track, so the XFR is the best because it is most comfy and torquey.” But I think the reason people do buy the supersaloons – rather than simply an executive barge – is precisely because of that ability to transform into a rippling demon when the mood takes you. Any V8+-engined four-door machine can cruise the motorways comfortably; it’s that extra performance dimension that marks the exceptional out from the very good.

    Put simply, the XFR can’t hold a candle to either BMW’s M5 or Maserati’s Quattroporte, and now the Porsche Panamera Turbo has hulked into view, with the Aston Rapide and possibly that awesome Lamborghini Estoque thing on the way, buyers of supersaloons have much more tautly-honed cars from which to choose.

    This doesn’t make the XFR a bad product, it just means it isn’t the best in its supposed field. It may look very nice and discreet, and it has a fabulous cabin, and yes, it has more torque than an M5… but I’ve heard all this about various challengers before. The fact is, BMW perfected this genre (an irony, considered Jaguar invented it with the MkI and MkII saloons of the Fifties and Sixties) with the exemplary sharknose E28 in 1985, and with each and every incarnation, whenever it looks like the opposition is about to get anywhere close to it, Munich goes and raises the bar that little bit higher once more. And the XFR hasn’t cleared it, not by some distance.

    Oh, don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a downer on Jaguar. I actually love the marque, and I’ve always liked the company’s supercharged saloons. Give me an X308 or X350 XJR in black on 20s and I’d be a very happy man. But let me explain why the XFR has not lit a fire under my soul.

    For a start, the engine. While it has mammoth power and torque figures, the supercharger whine has been quietened down to the point of being mute, which might please the NVH brigade and fat businessmen on a lengthy motorway schlep, but it rather reduces the aural drama of the exactly-five-litres lump. In truth, it even sounded more like a V6 than a V8, and this lack of symphonic drama makes it seem slower than it actually is. Which is not as cosmically fast as the figures would have you believe. With the car weighing in at just over a 100 kilos shy of two tonnes, the XFR’s powerplant has a lot to lug about. The quoted 50-70mph time of 1.9 seconds suggests a car capable of warp drive; after a few bursts of straight line acceleration, I wondered if it was any quicker than an old 400 brake XJR, a somewhat alarming conclusion.