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2020 Lincoln Aviator Review and Buying Guide | All-American sophistication

The new 2020 Lincoln Aviator lands into one of the hottest luxury segments – three-row family crossovers – and is not only an incredibly relevant product, but a fully competitive and appealing one too. It all starts with a uniquely characterful interior that's likely to earn the Aviator a fair share of takers by itself. Then there's the exterior styling, which is long and sleek with a tapered roofline courtesy of new rear-wheel-drive architecture developed in concert for the Aviator and also-new Ford Explorer. The two vehicles share common bones, but the skin and muscle are quite different. Emphasis on muscle, too, because the Aviator's powertrain options utterly blow away its competition (a 400-horsepower turbo V6 and the Grand Touring's 494-hp plug-in hybrid). However, despite those eye-popping performance numbers, don't expect the Aviator to be a firm-riding, sport-tuned SUV. All that power is there if you need it, but it's part of an overall competent, composed driving experience rather than one thatÂ’s tightly wound and over-caffeinated. Frankly, it's a recipe that should make a lot of sense to American luxury buyers. If you're looking for a big, luxurious family vehicle, put it on your shopping list. What's new for 2020? The Aviator is an all-new model that slots into a previously unfilled slot in the Lincoln lineup between the five-passenger Nautilus and full-size, truck-based Navigator. 2020 Lincoln Aviator Interior View 9 Photos What's the interior and in-car technology like? No other company's interiors look anything like the mid-century-inspired palace of cool you get in the Aviator. All versions are available with distinctive color schemes shown above, but the Black Label trim level stands out the most with its three available "themes" of "Chalet," "Flight" and "Destination" that get special colors and trim types. Perhaps the quality of some plastics and the fit-and-finish aren't up to Mercedes or BMW levels, but everything looks so special that it makes up whatever deficit exists. Most competitors just seem drab and generic by comparison. In terms of technology, every 2020 Aviator comes standard with a 10-inch touchscreen mounted so high on the dash and close to the driver that it actually seems larger. It runs the Lincoln-skinned version of Ford's Sync 3 interface, which is generally user friendly, though it perhaps doesn't look as cool and sophisticated as the all-digital gauge cluster (or the interfaces of rivals).

Here are a few of our automotive guilty pleasures

It goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway. The world is full of cars, and just about as many of them are bad as are good. It's pretty easy to pick which fall into each category after giving them a thorough walkaround and, more important, driving them. But every once in a while, an automobile straddles the line somehow between good and bad — it may be hideously overpriced and therefore a marketplace failure, it may be stupid quick in a straight line but handles like a drunken noodle, or it may have an interior that looks like it was made of a mess of injection-molded Legos. Heck, maybe all three. Yet there's something special about some bad cars that actually makes them likable. The idea for this list came to me while I was browsing classified ads for cars within a few hundred miles of my house. I ran across a few oddballs and shared them with the rest of the team in our online chat room. It turns out several of us have a few automotive guilty pleasures that we're willing to admit to. We'll call a few of 'em out here. Feel free to share some of your own in the comments below. Dodge Neon SRT4 and Caliber SRT4: The Neon was a passably good and plucky little city car when it debuted for the 1995 model year. The Caliber, which replaced the aging Neon and sought to replace its friendly marketing campaign with something more sinister, was panned from the very outset for its cheap interior furnishings, but at least offered some decent utility with its hatchback shape. What the two little front-wheel-drive Dodge models have in common are their rip-roarin' SRT variants, each powered by turbocharged 2.4-liter four-cylinder engines. Known for their propensity to light up their front tires under hard acceleration, the duo were legitimately quick and fun to drive with a fantastic turbo whoosh that called to mind the early days of turbo technology. — Consumer Editor Jeremy Korzeniewski  Chevrolet HHR SS: Chevy's HHR SS came out early in my automotive journalism career, and I have fond memories of the press launch (and having dinner with Bob Lutz) that included plenty of tire-smoking hard launches and demonstrations of the manual transmission's no-lift shift feature. The 260-horsepower turbocharged four-cylinder was and still is a spunky little engine that makes the retro-inspired HHR a fun little hot rod that works quite well as a fun little daily driver.

Did Lexus make a BMW? Or did BMW make a Lexus? This and other 2017 surprises

It's that time of year again. The calendar is about to reach its end, Star Trek Cats 2018 is about to take its place, and I'm reflecting about all the cars that graced my driveway this year or summoned me to exotic places. You know, like Stuttgart or Phoenix. In 2017, I drove at least 57, and as I perused the list of them, I started to notice a common refrain: "This car surprised me." Most were pleasant surprises, but there were a few head scratchers and facepalms for good measure. In both cases, it was generally the result of car companies seemingly trying to break out of an existing mold. Nowhere was that more apparent than the pair of Lexuses slathered in Infrared paint: The LS 500 that left me this week and the LC 500 that was my favorite car of 2017. Though Lexus has been trying to shake its crusty, gold-packaged reputation for some time now, its efforts always seemed like an old man choosing Hollister to redo his wardrobe after realizing it hasn't been updated since 1987. I fell in love with the LC, genuinely floored by its near-perfect take on the GT. It's characterful in sound, appearance and tactility. It was at home in the city, in the mountain and on the open road. It was both comfortable and thrilling, and after driving the mechanically related LS 500, I can report that the LC's talents aren't an outlier. The LS 500's turbo V6 may make different noises than the LC's naturally aspirated V8, but it nevertheless invigorates the cabin when the car is placed in Sport+ mode. The steering is truly communicative, body motions are kept in miraculous check, and I absolutely forgot I was in an enormous luxury limo ... and a Lexus one at that. It was everything that the BMW 530e was not. I drove that on the exact same roads and was utterly bored the entire time. Generally doughy, lifeless steering, more distant than Planet 9. And no, the plug-in hybrid powertrain had nothing to do with that. At least it shouldn't. The Porsche Panamera S e-Hybrid I also drove this year proves that, as do the Hyundai Ioniqs, which are surprisingly adept and fun little cars regardless of what powers their wheels (Hyundai + hybrid = fun really blew me away). I would drive that Lexus LS F Sport over the BMW 5 Series any day of the week, which seems like a shocking thing to say in relation to either car. While Lexus is seemingly breaking out of its old crusty mold, BMW seems to be climbing into one.