2008 Lancer: A Competitive Compact In Search Of An Engine.

Background

In the past five years, Mitsubishi has fielded a number of solid vehicles, each plagued by a single, crippling design flaw. To wit: the Galant sedan’s rear seat doesn’t fold. The Endeavor SUV lacks a third row seat. The swift Eclipse coupe is lousy with torque steer. And the Lancer, up until now, has looked like the box it came in.

A total redesign for 2008 has resolved that issue: the Lancer is now wears a wedgy, sporting look, complete with a front fascia that resembles a perturbed Dirt Devil. I wondered, though, if the rest of the car was similarly improved. The previous car was inoffensive in mass-market guise (the Ralliart and Evolution were different animals entirely), but today’s compact class is teeming with high-quality, relatively sporty vehicles. Is there room for another fun-to-drive “premium” compact, as Mitsubishi is billing the new Lancer?

To find out, I visited a local Mitsubishi dealer and took a five-speed Lancer ES for an extended test-drive.


Under the Hood

Although I only sampled one of the Lancer’s three trim lines—the middleman ES is flanked by the entry-level DE and full-featured GTS—all of these cars are powered by the same engine: a 2.0-liter four-cylinder. In my home state of California, the Four puts out 143 horsepower (and boasts a PZEV emissions rating); in other states, it runs a bit richer and furnishes 152 horses.

First, the good news about this engine: treated gently, it’s uncommonly refined for the class. Start the Lancer up, and it settles into a liquid-smooth and nearly silent idle. Dip into the throttle, and response is creamy-soft. In fact, between idle and, say, 2,000 rpm, you’ll barely know this engine is running—in both positive and negative senses.

Now, about those negatives: this is a Four on Valium. Throttle response is soft and empty off the line, and the Lancer gathers speed more gradually than most rivals. Rev it past 3,000 rpm, and things perk up a bit—the engine note emerges as a refined, whirring snarl, and there’s just enough poke to have a bit of fun on freeway on-ramps. But at high rpm, the engine’s snarl turns strident, encouraging you to back off. The “fun zone” here is a modest and narrow one.

This puts a severe damper on Mitsubishi’s “fun-to-drive” pitch, at least for those who equate the term with easy speed. Worse, there’s no mileage payoff for more pragmatic folks: the Lancer’s EPA-estimated 21/29 MPG is in the basement of the compact class. If you’re thinking this makes the Lancer’s engine its new “fatal flaw,” well, I agree.


Changing Gears

What makes the Lancer’s languid acceleration an especially bitter pill is that I caught this engine at its best, hooked to the standard manual transmission. The majority of Lancers will be sold with the optional CVT, or continuously variable transmission—a technology notorious for outing weak, noisy engines by allowing them to drone at high rpm. So equipped, I suspect the Lancer’s Achilles Heel becomes an even bigger target for nit-picking Parises.

That said, for an economy car, the Lancer’s manual transmission is better than most. The stubby gearlever has short, notchy throws—it suggests the feel of metal flashing left unfinished in the five-speed’s H-pattern—and while the lever waggles a bit going into each gear, it’s easy to shift. The clutch is similarly foolproof, and fun-proof as well: its action is feather-light and slushy-smooth, with a take-up that occurs near the top of the pedal’s longish travel.


Twists and Turns

That leaves the Lancer’s chassis to make good on its “fun-to-drive” promise—and, to a fair extent, it delivers. In motion, this car’s defining dynamic trait is its solidity. Its structure feels tight and anvil-stiff, lending it a sense of substance that eludes many economy cars, and even some cars from higher classes up.

This pays dividends in several aspects, including steering response. The helm’s on-center feel is settled; on the freeway, the Lancer just sits, stable and undisturbed. And in turns, the tiller is reasonably firm, quick, and nicely coordinated. Sure, its feedback is one-dimensional—there’s little depth of communication, and I wouldn’t call it “crisp”—but it’s not numb, either. At this price point, a steering rack that instills confidence is no small asset.

The Lancer’s suspension feels similarly self-assured, inviting comparisons to the sporty Mazda 3. While the Lancer’s steering doesn’t provide the sparkling communication of that model, its chassis is similarly planted and alert: you can crank in more steering mid-corner, and the Lancer dives eagerly towards the apex, rather than grinding into messy understeer. A Cobalt or Corolla can’t claim that.

The Lancer’s braking feels confident and natural, too, especially with the ES model’s standard four-wheel discs and ABS (the low-rung DE makes do with rear drums and optional anti-lock control). Ultimately, though, stopping power is only average: hard stops elicit mild nosedive, but unimpressive stopping distances.


Easy Rider?

The Lancer’s ride quality is a mixed bag, and your evaluation of it will vary depending on your automotive priorities. Me, I prefer the feeling of firm control, and the Lancer's got it: its suspension feels nicely taut and tied-down, eliminating all traces of float, and its vaultlike structure shrugs off big lumps and potholes as if they were minor irregularities.

But, on the flip side, the Lancer is not what you’d call a “smooth ride.” Its firm damping makes for a tight, busy feel over most surfaces, bobbling up and down and chopping over freeway expansion joints. If you’d gladly trade a little float for gentler absorption, a Sentra, Elantra, or Corolla may be more your speed.

Likewise, the Lancer’s noise levels are tuned to keep you in touch with the road. Wind noise is well-muted, but subtle thrums and drumming remind you of the texture of the pavement. And engine noise, as we’ve established, is “communicative.”


Inside Story

While the Lancer’s road manners are a polarized mixture of road-grip strength and accelerative weakness, its interior is a solid shot at the compact-class mainstream. Pull open the driver’s door, and you’ll find a clean, uncluttered dashboard with only a few trendy touches—chiefly, the double-hooded gauge cluster, white-on-red instrument lighting, and chunky three-spoke steering wheel. By comparison, the Civic’s dash is a daring distraction, while the Corolla’s leaves a vanilla aftertaste.

Step inside, and you’ll find that the Lancer seats you fairly low to the floor, with the dashboard’s broad curves rising high in your peripheral vision. Some drivers will likely want to sit higher, for a more “commanding” view of the road. But taller drivers will appreciate the arms-out, legs-out driving position—and since you can clearly see the corners of the flat, angular hood, this sporty posture doesn’t compromise ease of parking.

Plus, what you do see of the Lancer’s cabin isn’t bad to look at. Panel fits are nice and tight, and assembly feels solid. Virtually all of the Lancer’s interior plastics are hard to the touch, and the door-panel fabric is a bit rough, but they’re finely textured enough that the mood isn’t oppressively Spartan.

Generous feature content helps on that point. Though much of the Lancer’s switchgear has a slightly gritty feel, there’s a lot of it: power windows, mirrors, and locks are all standard on the $15,990 ES, and an “Info” button to the left of the gauges displays service intervals, average miles-per-gallon, real-time MPG, and remaining miles to empty. Two annoyances: the soft-clicking turn signal is difficult to hear while driving, raising doubt as to whether it’s on, and the red, white, and yellow A/V inputs are an inelegant substitute for a conventional iPod jack.

The Lancer’s front seats deserve special mention. For an economy car, they’re unusually big and broad, banishing the “coach seats” feel prevalent in this class. Their firm padding is also shaped well, helping ensure long-distance comfort. Too bad the same can’t be said for the door and console armrests: their thin cloth covers do little to shield elbows from the hard plastic underneath.

The rear seat is similarly hospitable, with good legroom for six-footers and ample toe space under the front seats. But the rear backrest is too reclined, forcing passengers into a slumped posture, and headroom drops off near the back of the Lancer’s raked roofline.


Fill ‘Er Up

Pull the floor-mounted lever that pops the Lancer’s trunk, and you’ll find a cargo area that's merely average for a compact sedan. Its 11-cubic-foot capacity is spread over an area that’s wide and deep, but not very long; to fit a guitar in lengthwise, you’d need to drop one or both of the standard split-folding rear seatbacks. Trunk closings are tinny, but with gas-strut hinges and a felt underside liner, the trunklid doesn’t look cheap.

In-cabin storage is also on the lean side. The Lancer’s front cabin is served by four recessed cupholders, with another shallow pair hidden in the flip-down rear armrest. But its floppy-damped glovebox isn’t very spacious, nor is the center-armrest cubby, whose lid wobbles as it’s opened or shut. At least both stash spaces are padded to prevent rattles.


The Long Haul

Since the '08 Lancer has only been on sale for a matter of months, no data exists to indicate its reliability. The previous model, however, earned consistently average ratings in the leading consumer publication’s owner surveys. That’s no bad thing, as the average number of defects in today’s new cars is very low.

However, there are further risks associated with buying a car from a manufacturer that’s been weathering financial misfortunes, as Mitsubishi has of late. Poor resale values are the most obvious demerit, making the Lancer a poor choice for those who trade in their cars early and often. In addition, Mitsubishi’s dealerships tend to be smaller and more desperate for sales than other Japanese brands’, sometimes spurring underhanded sales practices.


In Sum

So, is there room for another budget sport-sedan pretender in the compact class? The new Lancer suggests there is. Its chassis feels more solid and substantial than a Honda Civic’s, and while its handling lacks the crispness of a Mazda 3’s, it comes close for less cash. Strong feature content sweetens the pot: side, curtain, and knee airbags and a tire-pressure monitor are all standard on the $13,990 DE, while the $17,490 GTS adds extras like Bluetooth connectivity and automatic climate control.

But—and there always seems to be a big but with Mitsubishis—the Lancer is absolutely, positively not for those for whom sluggish performance is a deal-breaker. It’s not for dedicated fuel misers, either, as many peppier rivals are thriftier with gas.

And so, while the Lancer’s '08 improvements are dramatic and manifold, the same old Mitsubishi story repeats: until it gets a more competitive engine, the otherwise-appealing Lancer seems destined to remain a fringe player. If you’re smitten by its looks or low pricing, give this pert-handling dark horse a look; it might suit you to a T. Otherwise, I suggest that the Mazda 3 and Civic remain inked at the top of your shopping list.