A Closer Look - 2010 Toyota Camry Hybrid

I'm no Jonathan Ive, but I'd like to think I know good design when I see it.  To my admittedly jaundiced eye, Japanese automakers -- with the exception of Mazda -- can't seem to build a beautiful car.  Sure, some of their products are decent looking, like the Honda Accord for instance, but as far as I'm concerned they've never produced a product that's stop-and-stare gorgeous like, say, an Audi S5.  If any manufacturer proves this rule it's Toyota, and its ever-popular midsize sedan is the poster child of this unfortunate ethos.

Something’s just not right about the Camry’s styling.  It looks like the product of one too many focus groups or corporate think tanks.  It’s not ugly, but it’s definitely odd – like a partially melted walrus, but with a much bigger underbite.  The hybrid model is particularly strange, with sharp corners molded into its low-hanging bumpers – add-ons for better aerodynamics that give it an almost tank-like heft.  The wispy brushed-metal accent piece above the grille opening brings to mind a mustached maitre'd at a fancy restaurant.  "Do you have a reservation?"

Popping open a door and sliding inside you’re greeted by an interior that’s rather plain.  Like the outside, Toyota played it safe.  Thankfully, what it lacks in pizzazz it makes up for with comfort.  The leather-trimmed seats are soft to the touch and long-haul comfortable, front or rear.  The cabin is as quiet as a nuclear submarine in enemy waters, even at freeway speeds.  But for all these plusses, I found a few surprising minuses.  Chiefly among these was the disappointing fit and finish.  There were several misaligned panels on the dashboard and the materials’ quality was nothing special.  Also, in a day when even bottom-rung economy cars offer attractive, woven headliners the Camry comes dressed with something resembling an old sweater. 

Furthermore, like a husky woman spilling out of a fluorescent tube top, the trim covering the A, B and C pillars stands out in the worst way possible.  Rather than seamlessly blending in with the rest of the decor, these pieces call attention to themselves like a Waffle House Mardi Gras reenactment after last call.  You don’t want to, but you can’t stop staring.  They’re textured to look like fabric and therefore match nothing else in the car.

Another interior oddity was the accent trim on the center stack.  The pieces surrounding the navigation screen and climate controls were striped, just like a first-generation iMac.  This motif was charming back in 1998 when Stevie J. and the Cupertino crew debuted the candy-colored all-in-one complete with the infamous wrist-crippling hockey-puck mouse, but it’s a little gaudy a dozen years later.

Warming up the otherwise cold interior is some nice-looking wood trim. It’s genuine Saudi-Arabian maple.  They pump this rare timber out of the vast underground forests that thrive beneath the scorching desert sands.  It’s not the most convincing faux wood I’ve ever seen, but overall it does a damn-good impersonation of tiger maple.

The fit and finish may have been a disappointment, but the quality of the paint was stunning.  Smooth, deep and luscious, it looked like the whole car was dunked in a candy coating.  Is this really the product of rust-belt industry and not a high-end bakery?  It looked good enough to eat, even if it was covered in dirt and salt scum.

Being a hybrid, engineers had to store a clunky a battery pack somewhere in the car.  The obvious place to put a big ole’ hunk of technology like this is in the trunk, which is just what Toyota did.  The whole shebang sits just behind the rear seats; the only problem is the battery’s training to become a competitive eater and it devours much of the available cargo space.  Watch your back Cookie Jarvis, Toyota has designed a space-eating machine.  When you factor in the goose-neck hinges that support the deck lid – a big no-no in my book – you have a recipe for lackluster cargo space, which is just what this Camry delivers.

And then there’s the driving experience, or lack thereof.  Suffice to say, this is not a car for enthusiasts, but you already knew that.  The bridge-club smooth ride is nice for interstate travel or a morning jaunt to jazzercise class, but it does the car no favors in the handling department.  Saying it drives like a boat is an insult to watercraft.  The Camry flounders around like a beached sea mammal, but it’s less graceful and a lot less fun to watch.

Predictably, the steering response matches the ride.  It’s too light and too vague to have any fun.  There’s also a delayed response when you crank the wheel.  It feels like the back-end of the car responds half-a-second later than the front.  Basically it’s all business with no time for smiles.

The Camry Hybrid is powered by a 147 horsepower 2.4-liter four-cylinder engine (total output including the electric motor is a more muscular 187 ponies).  It’s matched to a CVT – a continuously vexing transmission – that’s less fun than a cancer diagnosis.  On the bright side though, it’s a boon for fuel economy.  The car stickers at 33 miles per gallon in the city and 34 on the highway, but according to the digital readout in the instrument cluster, I managed to average nearly 35 MPGs on mixed driving.  That’s a terrific number for a big, heavy car dripping with avoirdupois.

Toyota has been wrangling with a widely publicized unintended acceleration issue on several of its models, but this car has a completely different problem.  It has trouble with intended acceleration.  I kid, I kid.  The performance really isn’t that bad.  It’s no rocket, but there’s enough power that merging and passing won't cause a panic attack.  The engine is very smooth and the transmission does its best to stretch each drop of fuel.

Arguably the biggest problem with the Camry is that it’s just too damn good at what it does.  It’s quiet, comfortable, reliable and efficient.  It’s exactly what the average new-car buyer is looking for – inconspicuous and uninterrupted service for the next decade and a half.  How else could they sell 400,000 of these things each year? 

To use a food analogy, the Camry is a loaf of Wonder Bread on the shelf of an ethnic bakery.  It’s surrounded by tasty and exotic choices but people keep reaching for the same familiar package.  It’s comforting, it’s welcoming and it does its job flawlessly – keeping your hands clean from sandwich condiments and forming a solid foundation for French toast.  Really, it’s the anti-choice.  It’s the car people buy out of habit.  It’s the car people buy when they can’t make a decision – or don’t want to. 

From an enthusiast standpoint it’s all wrong, but for the unwashed masses it’s just right, which is why it’s held on to its best-selling title for so many years.  You can’t fault it for that.  And really, you can’t fault the Camry for doing what it does – it’s perfect for people who just want an automotive appliance and nothing more.  It’s perfect for people who would rather take the bus.



Comments

[Mirko]

I know none of them are available in the US, but any European-market diesel midsize car will give you better fuel economy.
Without the apparent downsides of the Camry.

[Rich]

Very good Craig. You managed to not be offensive, which shocked me. Lots of sea faring mammals spoke of. I think your running of the tube top thru Waffle House is perfect. Off-hand, may be your best write up on here so far.