"The Infiniti M45 is an up-and-comer," says Vix, "something like our Reserve Chardonnay, which has the characteristics of a more expensive wine, but achieves them in a less expensive manner. Imagine its aroma as a crisp green apple, with hints of vanilla and toasty oak."
On the two previous occasions we've pushed Infiniti's latest M into the comparison ring, it's grabbed the prize money without stopping a punch. Facing the new GS 430 last May--pow!--the M45 Sport Sedan knocked the Lexus flat. And in a slapdown victory in March, the M35 version insolently pranced over the bodies of the six-cylinder BMW 530i and Cadillac STS, which, rearmed here with V-8s, are spoiling for a rematch.
Underpinning these triumphs is Nissan's FM (front/mid-engine) platform that in more diminutive guises forms the foundation of little brother G35 and that happy delinquent, the 300ZX. But befitting its--sniff-sniff--more upper-drawer pretensions, the M45's version includes a type of active-steer rear suspension consisting of electrically extensible rear toe links that either parallel steer or countersteer with the front wheels, depending on the lurid circumstances. That is, if you're nutty enough ever to need the active links, what with standard 245/40 Bridgestone Potenzas shoehorned onto the 19-inch wheels adhering the M to earth's crust.
Propulsion is by an iteration of the solemn Q45's 4.5-liter V-8 that boasts titanium valves, variable valve timing, Lance Armstrong respiration from trombone-able induction runners, and a walloping 335 horsepower delivered to its five-speed automatic gearbox. Starting at $50,360, our M is bejeweled with $5900 in options, including the must-have in-dash rearview monitor for backing (a progeny-saving feature that should be required in all vehicles), precrash belts, a very good nav system, XM radio, and our favorite geek gizmo, Lane Departure Warning. Wander too near lane delineators above 45 mph without using the turn indicator, and a scolding chime rats on you. If only the rest of the lane-meandering meatheads on our freeways were so meticulously nannied.
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