Road Test
It's the end of Seville-ization as we know it. No more jokes about Seville disobedience, Seville affairs, Seville rights. That's because the name, first trotted out in 1956 to designate a special Eldorado model, has been deep-sixed. Again.
What was formerly the Seville-in its fifth generation, no less-is now simply an STS, and it rides on the Sigma platform that has so far distinguished itself in the CTS sedan and SRX sport-ute.
The STS comes in three aromas. There's the starter-kit version ($41,690) powered by a 255-horse, 3.6-liter V-6. There's the V-8 rear-wheel-drive model ($47,495) featuring a 4.6-liter Northstar producing 320 horses, 20 more than the old STS's output. And there's a V-8 all-wheel-drive STS, with a mandatory heavy options load ($62,765) whose driveline is yanked intact from the SRX.
You want options? Cadillac's got your options right here, pal. How about four tire-and-wheel combos and three final-drive ratios? How about ventilated seats (part of the $8695 1SG package), which turn out to be the coolest feature since air conditioning? Our V-8 rear-drive test car, with the 3.42:1 axle and 18-inch all-season Michelins, arrived pretty much blinged out, lacking only a sunroof ($1200). Such profligacy bloated its sticker to $62,215, a sum that may induce chest pains in more than a few diehard Cadillackers.
The STS now rides on a wheelbase 4.2 inches longer than the old car's, yet in overall length the STS is 4.7 inches shorter. Glance at the car in profile and you can see what got chopped. The trunk's volume is down by two cubic feet.
Rear-seat dimensions, though, aren't much changed. It's still snug back there, at least for a luxury sedan, okay for two adults and their mocha lattes. It would have helped if the seat cushion weren't so low and you could insert both feet entirely beneath the front seats. A third adult betwixt? For 20 minutes maybe, but remember that with rear drive there's again a transmission hump to battle, and Hump Man has no choice but to stick one Florsheim into each of his colleagues' footwells.
The front seats, for hips and shoulders alike, are surprisingly well-bolstered and BMW-firm. No complaints. The gauges' illuminated white numerals are set against a black background-simple, ever legible. The center stack is clean and well-ordered, dominated by an eight-inch-diagonal "infotainment" screen, whose face can be tilted up to 15 degrees to cut glare. And the cockpit is warmly trimmed in eucalyptus that looks very much like real wood because it is.
