Lexus LM - long-term review

The Lexus LM is a deeply bizarre machine. Not because it's bad, but because it's a £118,000 luxury limousine that's somehow also a van. A five-metre-long, 2.3-tonne Japanese box with a grille large enough to be picked up by maritime radar and an interior that makes most airport lounges look under-equipped.

This became my transport of choice for a family pilgrimage to Disneyland Paris to celebrate my son's fifth birthday. As test beds for luxury transport go, few are more demanding than two excited children, several hundred miles of motorway and the inevitable mountain of Disney merchandise waiting for the return trip.

From behind the wheel, the LM immediately makes sense. You sit high, surveying the road ahead from a position somewhere between executive limo and commercial vehicle. Visibility is excellent and, despite its considerable dimensions, the LM never feels quite as cumbersome as its 5.1-metre length suggests. The elevated driving position proved particularly useful on French country lanes, where anticipating oncoming traffic is essential. Rural Citroën 2CV owners appeared less convinced, usually opting for the nearest verge as the LM's imposing spindle grille emerged over the horizon.

Words: Rich Lyman

The hybrid powertrain is not what you'd expect in a six-figure luxury car. Rather than a silky V8 or whisper-quiet EV setup, Lexus fits a 2.5-litre four-cylinder hybrid producing 247bhp, driving all four wheels through a CVT gearbox. On paper, 0-62mph takes 8.7 seconds. In reality, none of the rear-seat passengers could have cared less.

Parking, meanwhile, remains an exercise in strategic planning. Lexus helps with an impressive array of cameras, sensors and a digital rear-view mirror, all of which are excellent. Unfortunately, physics remains undefeated. At over five metres long, the LM will protrude from most standard parking bays, and boarding smaller ferries requires considerably more confidence than a normal family hatchback.

Our route from England into France was largely effortless, although the navigation system occasionally struggled with road closures around Paris. Otherwise, Lexus has struck an admirable balance between touchscreen technology and physical controls. Indicators, climate controls and other frequently used functions remain where they should be: as actual buttons. Revolutionary.

But let's be honest. Nobody buys a four-seat LM because they're interested in the front seats.

The real attraction lies behind the electrically operated partition screen. In Takumi specification, the rear compartment features two enormous reclining captain's chairs with powered footrests, individual climate controls, ambient lighting, privacy blinds and a colossal 48in screen stretching across the cabin. It's less second row seating and more private members' club on wheels.

In Paris, more than a few passers-by attempted discreet glances through the tinted glass, presumably expecting a celebrity, diplomat or visiting dignitary. Instead they were greeted by two children debating which episode of Bluey deserved immediate viewing. Luxury can be cruel.

The entertainment system is perhaps the one area where the LM overthinks things. The screen itself is excellent, but content management feels unnecessarily complicated. Unless you've arrived armed with an HDMI-connected laptop, Fire Stick or a passenger willing to operate streaming services on demand, the experience isn't quite as seamless as the rest of the vehicle.

The fully reclining rear seats were largely wasted on my passengers because their Isofix child seats remained stubbornly upright throughout the journey. They did, however, thoroughly enjoy experimenting with the rear cabin controls, adjusting climate zones and creating increasingly questionable ambient lighting combinations. Fortunately, all of this can be overridden from the front.

After a full day at Disneyland Paris, the LM came into its own. With the kids changed into pyjamas, the blinds lowered and the cabin lights dimmed, the rear compartment became a rolling sleep pod. The vast boot swallowed an alarming quantity of merchandise without complaint, while the front cabin remained a calm, luxurious refuge for the long drive home.

And perhaps that's where the Lexus LM makes the strongest case for itself. It isn't really a limousine. It isn't really an MPV either. It's an airline business-class cabin attached to a hybrid drivetrain.

For transporting executives around Tokyo, that's probably excellent news.

For transporting tired children back from Disneyland while avoiding yet another rendition of You’ve Got A Friend In Me, it might just be perfect.