What is it like on the inside?
‘Inside’ the LC Convertible turns into ‘outside’ in 16 seconds, at anything up to 31mph. If it starts to rain on your semi-aniline cow hide, take heart from the fact the roof defies gravity a little faster going the other way – it closes in 15 seconds. The mechanism is impressively hushed as it sets about its motorised origami.
Will the interior drive me mad?
The main cabin architecture is obviously carried over from the LC coupe, asymmetric door designs and all. Now, the LC might well be charming, stunning to behold inside and out, and ludicrously well-appointed, but we’re not blind to its flaws, and the main one is getting along with its infamously touchy media controls.
The touchpad-operated 10.3-inch interface simply isn’t as intuitive as a tactile clickwheel would be, which gives the likes of the Aston Martin Vantage Roadster, complete with its last-gen Mercedes leftovers inside, a bit of an open goal.
Happily, Apple CarPlay and the Android equivalent is built-in and gives a more user-friendly navigation alternative to the native Lexus set-up. However, this cabin is starting to feel its age as even Lexus learns and moves on: the new NX has a vastly more impressive touchscreen and fewer silly minor controls.
Take the heated seats, or the neck-warming vents: they’re both pleasingly powerful, but activating either of them is a six-step odyssey into the infernal screen, which overrides whatever you’ve got showing up in the meantime. Like your map, for example. Be cold, or get lost. Those are the choices.
Changing driving modes? That means prodding or twisting a horn on the side of the instrument binnacle. Madness. But somehow a little charming.
Is it practical?
While we’re on the subject of ‘what the merry flip were they thinking?’, now’s a good time to mention the back ‘seats’ are laughable. The backrests point bolt upright and it’s impossible to eke out any legroom back there if anyone is planning on sitting in, say, the driver’s seat. Which is sort of the point of a car, really.
All we have here are some luxuriously appointed luggage perches, with seatbelts for safety-conscious Mulberry collectors. It’s a useful space to have, because the 149-litre boot won’t take much filling at the organic farm food shop.