Two Tons, But No Fun

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2013 Ford Taurus SHO

Photo courtesy of Ford Motor Company
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There’s always someone who would rather watch an elephant dance than see Savion Glover on the stage.

Ford has clearly aimed the 2013 Taurus SHO at the elephant watchers. I’m not really sure who that target demographic encompasses, but based on my observations of SHOs on the road, its apparently limited to middle-aged men without sideburns. They’re the people who want a lumbering beast of a full-size sedan that’s been whipped into a relatively nimble corner-carver — a contradiction in turns, if you’ll allow the pun.

After a week driving a fully loaded SHO (pronounced how Carol Channing would describe what one does with a needle and thread), I was thoroughly impressed that such a car had been built, and completely unconvinced that anyone should actually purchase it.

After a week driving a fully loaded SHO, I was thoroughly impressed that such a car had been built, and completely unconvinced that anyone should actually purchase it.

First, though, the basics: The fourth-generation SHO debuted only in 2010, so the majority of the 2013 model updates are cosmetic. Most prominently, there’s a black, trapezoidal grill that echoes the 2013 Fusion‘s snout. The new, optional 20-inch blackout wheels look positively badass until you realize they’re essentially stylized hibiscus flowers. The sheetmetal is unchanged, and still as beveled and chamfered as an Art Deco chifforobe. Its slab sides have so many creases that I panicked every time I saw the rear quarter panel, assuming the car had been grazed in a parking lot. The Taurus’ nonexistent sightlines and uselessly overzealous parking assist alarms mean you’ll probably add some bevels of your own if you try to fit it in a tight space.

Step inside and you’ll find appointments similar to that of a fully loaded Edge. Leather, soft-touch plastics, plus some SHO-exclusive aluminum accents — you know the drill. The only thing that’s missing are buttons. From the completely flat Sony stereo to the sluggish MyFord Touch screen, everything is controlled by the graze of a fingertip. Unless you want to rely on voice commands or take your eyes off the road, be prepared to use dead reckoning to find climate and audio controls. The rear seats are spacious, but the back door openings are so small that it’s impossible to make a dignified exit.

You don’t buy a Taurus SHO for luxury or looks, though. On the contrary: It’s a sleeper, a family sedan with a bachelor’s brain. That’s where the 2013 model disappoints, not living up to the legend established by its Yamaha V8-powered forebears or even the full-size Panther platform Fords of yore. Yes, the SHO is impressive, but only as a technical achievement.

First off, Ford’s engineers somehow made the car both massive and quick. This Taurus is four inches taller than the 2011 Crown Victoria, and its wheelbase is only two inches shorter than that late, lamented barge. A two-ton SHO with an adult passenger tips the scales over a Grand Marquis. Yet thanks to its 3.5-liter EcoBoost V6 and six-speed SelectShift automatic, just hit the gas and the car seemingly sheds weight faster than a housecat on a vegan diet. It’s a marvelously smooth and powerful engine, and the sound of those twin Garrett turbochargers spooling up is as beautiful as the growl of any V8.

It’s quiet and composed, evolved beyond the reptilian behavior of the former full-size Fords. It’s also no fun: too composed for hooning, but still too large to be agile.

Then, there’s the full complement of handling technology. From Curve Control, which gently applies the brakes when drivers understeer, to an enhanced stability control setup that brakes inner wheels on turns, it’s got more minders than a North Korean tour group. Even the old SHO’s miserable brakes have been addressed — though stopping still requires a heavy foot. The SHO-exclusive sport suspension does a good job keeping the giant car stable, but it can’t defy physics. On highway offramps, it feels more like a sporty crossover than a sedan.

It’s almost as competent as a car weighing hundreds of pounds less, but that doesn’t necessarily make the big SHO any more fun. For comparison’s sake, I drove one of the last 2011 Crown Vics that rolled out of St. Thomas, Ontario, a car so primitive that it very well could have been been built during the Reagan administration — and by the Soviets, no less. It wallowed, it shook, it lurched and it couldn’t get out of its own way. But it was some of the most fun I’ve ever had behind the wheel. Throw that column shifter into gear and suddenly you’re Mannix, sliding the tail out on turns, adrenaline matching the roar of the V8.

Compare that to the SHO. The big, powerful Taurus is several times faster than the Crown Vic, with quicker shifts and vastly improved handling. It’s quiet and composed, evolved beyond the reptilian behavior of the former full-size Fords. It’s also no fun: too composed for hooning, but still too large to be agile.

If my subjective argument doesn’t convince you, maybe a couple of numbers can. First, there’s the whopping $44,945 MSRP. There are a lot of stellar sedans in that price range that are more enjoyable and refined. (If you must go with one that’s also all-wheel drive equipped, the Volvo S60 T6 and Infiniti G37x come to mind.) The second important number is the 18.1 mpg average I got after 400 miles of combined city and highway driving, which made the “EcoBoost” label on the rear decklid look like an infuriating bit of greenwashing.

The Ford Taurus SHO is definitely improved for 2013. It’s a big car that moves like a slightly smaller one, and it does so thanks to a really impressive powerplant. But it’s a working vacation, a well-trained dog that won’t play fetch. It’s a feat of engineering that comes at the expense of driver enjoyment.

WIRED 3.5-liter EcoBoost is a turbocharged dream. Curve Control takes over when drivers get in over their heads.

TIRED Just too darn big. Lousy fuel economy. Handles like a crossover, not a sedan. Interior devoid of physical buttons. Almost $45K for a Taurus.

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