Big, powerful, and mature, the BMW M5 has long been the silverback of sports sedans. The newest rendition of the M5, the F90, carries on the tradition. More power, more driven wheels, more space and more luxury. While nobody needs a 617 hp executive sedan, the question remains: Do I want one?
My test drive starts where all test drives start: Me, opening the driver’s door and slipping into the driver’s seat. I look around. The multimedia interface, HVAC controls, shifter and gauges are all nearly identical to the interfaces and controls I’ve seen in other BMW M cars. I guess that makes the M5’s cabin typical—but excellent—BMW M.
Over a normal 5-series, M division has laid its best leather on the seats, steering wheel, doors and dash. Tricolor stitching brightens the steering wheel, and little red M1 and M2 buttons—like devil’s horns—peek out from behind the steering wheel spokes. You’d swear these buttons were responsible for firing the afterburners or deploying the smokescreen. (And your wager would not be too far from the truth.)
I fire up the V8 and start rolling slowly out of the country club. Surprisingly, from the driver’s seat, the big sedan doesn’t feel so large around me. While the exterior dimensions of the car are large, the interior is only slightly wider than the compact sedans I’m used to driving.
I’m stuck in traffic on Hwy 68 as I head towards the one good mountain road. In this moment of calm, I try to soak in the nuances of the M5 Competition.
Through the steering wheel, I can feel the engine turning and the road texture under the tires. Bigger bumps, like the Botts dots reflectors between the lanes, are also clearly felt. When the suspension is firmed, the good vibrations get even better. While that signature EPAS rubberiness remains, BMW is making commendable progress on its steering feedback.
The twin-turbo V8 engine sounds good, if electronically scored. The engine is heard louder in the cabin than expected, given how well the M5 shuts out all other exterior noises. When I switch to one of the M5’s more aggressive drive modes, burbles and pops are added to the overrun. I appreciate the effort by M.
At last, I make it to Laureles Grade. Climbing the mountain, I am impressed by the power and acceleration of the M5 Competition. It feels nearly as fast as the sleek Acura NSX supercar I drove up this road just six hours ago. At the top of the rev range, it’s hard to separate the super sedan from the supercar based on acceleration rush. But at low revs, the BMW M5 lacks the hyper-immediate response and linear torque curve that the NSX carefully crafts by melding electric motor output with its turbo V6. The M5 Competition’s engine has good response, but it’s missing the razor-sharp edge found in electric motors and high-compression NA engines.
I drive up and over the hill in 4WD Sport mode, the M5’s most fun AWD mode. The M5 is supposed to be the best of the best, but I’m only finding a 7 out of 10 driving experience. It masterfully handles the curves, but it is locked to the road: I want some tire-shredding excitement from this 617 hp monster, but 4WD Sport won’t let the M5 off its leash.
To find the car’s full potential, I park and dig through the iDrive menus. In short order, I find 2WD mode. (ESP must first be turned off before 2WD can be selected. I wish these two things weren’t tied together.) The wild M5 that I want appears at the first dosh of throttle. As I merge back onto Laureles Grade, my zealous right-foot causes twin rubber J’s to be scrawled across the pavement.
I spear my way out of a climbing sweeper, feeling the rear tires struggling to balance the dual demands of hard cornering with accelerative thrust. Yes, hidden beneath layers of electronic and mechanical trickery is an excellent RWD super sedan. Now the M5 is delivering an 8 out of 10 driving experience. The powerful and unpredictable silverback M5 lives on.
I make multiple stops to test the acceleration in 2WD mode. To my surprise, the M5 is not an immediate smoke show. The rear tires have nearly enough traction to keep up with my full-throttle getaways. (I’m not using launch mode.) There’s just a little scrabbling of tires in first gear that disappears after I shift into second.
(Frequently, the tire slip ends when I halt acceleration by slamming into the rev limiter. The power delivery in the M5 is strongly sustained, and the engine gives no hints of its impending redline.)
Perhaps BMW’s addition of AWD in the M5 may have been driven by a need to produce class-leading performance numbers. With AWD, the M5 can launch as hard as the Mercedes AMG E63S. Yet, I could happily drive the M5 in 2WD. There is enough rear tire grip to make the RWD F90 M5 tractable and enjoyable. My only concern is the lack of ESP in 2WD mode. BMW, please add a permissive ESP mode that can be used with the 2WD mode!
As I head back down the mountain, I think about all the roles this M5 is trying to play. It is large enough to deliver four adults to a charity gala, comfortable enough to soothe a busy CEO as he commutes from his suburban McMansion to the company’s downtown HQ, fast enough to part traffic on the autobahn, nimble enough for a race track, and naughty enough to set world records on a drift pad. Has there ever been a better compromise car?
And yet, the compromises can be seen if you’re looking. The M5 is never as smooth-riding as a true luxury car or as tactile as a true sports car. Big, heavy, and powerful, it gobbles fuel on a commute or tires and brakes at the track. So I’m left wondering: is the $110k spent on the M5 would be better split between a sports car and a luxury sedan?
My test drive is nearly over when I spot the tight hairpin on Laguna Seca’s access road. ESP still off, I detour, dive hard into the hairpin, and goose the throttle to bring the M5’s tail around. The big sedan complies, and for a sweet and hilarious moment, I’m drifting the M5 out of the corner in 4WD Sport mode. Compromises be damned; if you buy an M5, you will find plenty of opportunities to enjoy it.
Mike's Steering Column 