Infiniti M45 Review

Maybe it's because my father's Canadian, but I always pull for the underdog. Right from the start, I wanted Nissan's upstart Infiniti brand to kick Lexus's polished derriere. And so it did. The Z -- make that G -- 35 made the original IS250 look like an over-stressed poodle. Where Lexus offered an overwrought interior (ahoy there diving-watch gauge cluster) and under-cooked mechanicals, Infiniti served-up a four-door Camaro. The G35 dispatched the IS, yawned and started hunting Germans. When Japan's 'other' luxury brand (not counting Acura) re-launched its 5-Series fighter, I thought right; here we go. Round two… At first sight, all bets were off. Why would Infiniti produce such a fat, unsightly beast? Up front, the sedan's massive chrome grill clashes with the body's not-so-svelte proportions, and the brash headlights are just plain wrong. The M's obese hind quarters are more offensive than a cartoon of the Prophet lounging by the pool. I'm not saying the M45's taillights are garish, but they'd look huge on a school bus. From the side, the M45's not a tragedy, but that's only because you might mistake it for the more comely G35 at twenty paces. In all, the M45 is only vaguely alluring, like a post-partum Britney.

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