Mercedes-Benz GLE review

Repeat after us: this is not a sporty car. It’s not designed to be thrown around in anger and the sooner you accept that, the better. Even a bump at dual carriageway speed will make a non-AMG GLE skitter about like the rug’s been whipped from beneath your feet. No, the more pertinent question you want to ask is: ‘Is it comfy?’

Ok then. Is it comfy?

That’s more like it. Long story short: yes it is. Even though 21in is the minimum alloy size you’re getting in the UK. Twenty-one. Minimum. Yikes. 22s are fitted as you go up the trim levels. Thing is, Mercedes has its wheel control sussed and as a result, the big rims don’t thud and thunk across road imperfections as intrusively as, say, a Jaguar F-Pace. You’re aware there’s a bit more jiggle than an E-Class Estate, because you’re in a tall car with the requisite handling and ride penalty to stop it toppling over in a bend (the AMG has 48-volt anti-roll suspension to combat this).

But it’s a quieter-riding car than most big SUVs, and now Merc’s clever air suspension is standard on every GLE. The ride is right up there with the Cayenne and Discovery. Wind noise is better suppressed than anything in the class, thanks to plenty of clever aero touches like bespoke door mirrors and special attention paid to seals around the doors. So it’s a very placid, quiet cruiser.

Remind me of the engine choices again.

The GLE 300d is your entry-level diesel choice, good for a healthy 265bhp and 406lb ft of torque from its 2.0 litres and four cylinders, and 0-62mph in 6.9s. A four-pot diesel's about the most unappealing engine configuration possible for a thirsty, luxuriant heavyweight SUV, but the GLE’s remains politely hushed into the background until you trouble the throttle’s kickdown button.

Left to its own devices, it’s an uncharismatic but entirely fit for purpose engine, which reported 38.2mpg in our test drive versus a claim of 41.6mpg and 179g/km of CO2.

I want more cylinders!

To try the six-pot diesel is to love it. There’s only one these days - the 450d - and it’s capable of 362bhp, 553lb ft and 0-62mph in 5.6s. That’s punchy for a car the size of St Paul’s Cathedral, and you bathe in the comforting notion that you’re barely skimming the skin off the vat of torque at your disposal. The noise is fabulous too: near silent when unburdened, then a creamy-smooth six-cyl hum when roused.

And no, let’s not pretend that diesel is as in favour as it once was. But this engine just serves to showcase what a great companion a straight-six turbodiesel and a big SUV really are. All this effortless urge, and a 500-mile range. Plenty of towing capacity too.

Tell me about the petrol.

There is of course the petrol GLE 450 if diesel isn’t your cup of tea. More power, less torque, same outcome: 376bhp, 369lb ft, 0-62mph in 5.6s. Although 29.2mpg is some way short of what the diesel can claim. Small consolation: you’ll get close to that figure in real-world driving.

The EQ system’s starter-generator makes stop-start operations impressively smooth – indeed, there were a couple of occasions when we attempted to manually start the car when it was already running. Can’t pay a higher compliment to idling refinement than that.

In isolation it’s a fine powertrain, but in immediate contrast to the diesel, you become aware you’re using larger throttle openings to make similarly swift progress, sometimes tripping up the gearbox which has to drop one or two extra ratios to fast-track the engine into the meaty filling of its torque curve. It’s also a whinier-sounding motor when pushed, than the diesel.

And the PHEVs?

Ah yes, the plug-ins. We’re yet to drive the 350de, so we’ll focus on the petrol 400e here. A 2.0-litre engine twinned with an electric motor and 25kWh usable battery for 376bhp, 479lb ft and up to 66 miles of e-range. Not many PHEVs will do more than that on a charge. It’s a tad slower than the 3.0-litre GLEs, reaching 62mph half a second later from a standstill.

In electric motor-only mode the GLE 400e is even quieter than the 450d, and if you’re deploying the battery to ghost through a low-emission zone then you won’t be able to wipe the smugness off your own face. Until you come across a width restrictor, anyway. We’re not entirely convinced by the plug-in: although it’s quiet, it has a habit of lurching forward when you want to get moving and after enough stop-start traffic, that becomes irritating.

What if I’m utterly insane?

Then you might be pleasantly surprised to learn the GLE 63 S AMG is a very capable, liveable super-SUV. If you’ve got £143k lying around. The bad news is (like the PHEVs) you can’t have it with seven seats, but with 604bhp and 629lb ft on tap you can probably make twice as many trips to bring all the kids along. So long as 22.3mpg doesn’t offend you.

Aren’t there less spicy AMGs these days?

Correct. In fact, there are now two different flavours of GLE 53. One is the mild-hybrid, while the other is a PHEV and is officially known as the GLE 53 Hybrid. We’ve driven the latter on UK roads and it really does shift. Perhaps that’s unsurprising with a combined 537bhp and 553lb ft of torque on offer. What is surprising though is how little it rolls through corners. This is a 2.8 tonne SUV, remember. The steering is well weighted and in its sportier drive modes, the 53 Hybrid hunkers down and stays remarkably flat when the road gets twisty. In Sport+ mode this thing could embarrass a fair few hot hatches, although that does mean that when you want it all to calm down, the ride is much firmer than in the non-AMG GLE.

And yes, the 53 miles of all-electric range is useful, but once you’ve exhausted that you’re looking at low 20s for mpg. Plus, you’ve then got to deal with the constant handover between electric and petrol power. With limited juice left in the battery the 53 Hybrid often fumbles this, and it can be slow to respond as you try to pull out of a junction or keep up with traffic. The sporty six-cylinder fires into life with a proper bark too, which is tiring when it’s constantly switching off and on again like an overrun IT department.