BMW M5 - long-term review

Did you tune in for the twin test? The M5 losing to the Audi RS7? Bit of an upset that. I don’t think a BMW M car has lost to an RS Audi since the B7 RS4 proved to be, well, Audi hasn’t done it better than that in the last 20 years.

And BMW hasn’t done it worse? That’s what we’re going to find out – this is why we run long-termers. A few days with a car gives us a snapshot. A few months gives us everything. Twin tests are very valuable but they’re mainly dynamic comparisons, we’re not living with the cars long enough to get the full picture, to answer all the questions about daily use, running costs, the hifi, how irritating the lane keep is, what onlookers think, those little frustrations or genius touches that colour your entire opinion of a car.

On that note, I made a major discovery the other day. BMWs used to have this row of eight programmable buttons to which you could assign navigation destinations, shortcuts and radio stations. They were genius. I thought they’d gone in the purge of physical controls. They’re still there! Only now they’re inside the screen. Swipe down from the top, and you can assign shortcuts. Mine is now full of ADAS and bong disablers.

Before I go any further, introductions are in order. This is the new G90 BMW M5. It’s painted Fire Red, which is factually inaccurate while being a great colour for the M5. Subtly noticeable. And free. It’s fitted with £20,625 of options which, to work from the bottom up, consist of a charging cable (£350), black painted wheels (£375), silver threads in the carbon fibre (£400) and the Ultimate Pack (£19,500). Quite a jump for that last one there.

It's an odd mix, the Ultimate Pack. On one side it includes carbon ceramic brakes, carbon exterior styling and the M Driver’s Pack. On the other, Parking Assist Pro, roller blinds and vented front seats. Assuming this is what buyers want, we can assume they don’t really care about weight as long as they’ve got the shiny bits.

Me? I do care. I like light cars. The heaviest car I own is 1,150kg. Gordon Murray is my patron saint. The new M5 weighs 2,435kg. Over half a tonne more than its predecessor. Six years ago, I ran one of those. The best I ever got from it, across 40 tanks of fuel, was 26.6mpg. On its first tank, this one did 33.7mpg. Half a tonne heavier, yet considerably more efficient.

Because hybrid. I put 83kWh of electric into it over that tankful. Factor in that cost (£19.92 on my home charger) and the equivalent mpg falls to 27.7mpg. Still better than the old one. The app tells me my eDrive share was 39 per cent, which betters the community average of 28 per cent. I remind you now that this is an M5. Shouldn’t it be telling me to up my full throttle percentage?

Initial impressions, then. It’s huge, both in terms of dimensions and how big it feels from the driver’s seat. I have to raise the seat quite a bit to get proper perspective down the road. The seats envelop me in a great big hug. Getting that right took lots of screen fiddling, as that’s where half the seat controls are. If anyone overwrites my settings, I’ll have a meltdown.

But one word keeps niggling at my subconscious: gentlemanly. Every generation of M5 has been gentlemanly. They’re not overstated or brash, they have a certain dignity. See where I’m going with this? Because it’s not just the styling of this new car that’s a bit clunky, there’s been a more fundamental shift here. It’s in the vast illuminated grille, the gaudy ambient lighting, the self-important start-up bongs, the off-putting screen complexity, the awful angular dash graphics. It’s trying too hard.

Relaxed athleticism, that’s what an M5 should deliver. Maybe this one will. Maybe I’ll come away from these next few months convinced the M5 is a better car than the RS7 that Rowan’s been running. But right now it feels a bit tense and uptight.