Driven: Jaguar XJ

Jaguar unveiled the XJ at a fancy celeb-studded evening in London back in July. July? That's eight months ago. If it was a piece of software, it'd be on about version 2.3 by now. If it was a fertilised human egg, it would be just getting ready to emerge screaming into the world. But it's a car, and after all that time, it had better be a stunning one.

Woo-hoo. It is.

Just as the looks have shifted entirely away from the old one's retirement-community retro, the driving character has shifted too. The old XJ was a lovely comfy thing but lacked much animation from the driver's seat. The new one is taut and alive.

It feels light and agile, and you can barrel along with the sort of confidence a decent GT coupe would give. The aluminium body makes it comparatively light, but there's more to it than that.

The suspension calibration means it never seems to get uptight or flustered. Even when you're heading off down a twisty road and asking it to do things a big saloon probably oughtn't to be doing.

But this doesn't make it feel like a wannabe German sports saloon. It's more natural and intimate than that. You feel the road without getting disturbed by it. And although the ride has firmed up compared with the old XJ, it's never hard or turbulent.

Jag now has a brilliant range of engines - a 5.0 in normal and supercharged, and a twin-turbo V6 diesel. Stick them in this light, aerodynamic car and they're a recipe for happiness.

All this wrapped up in a truly striking, louche design. The cabin is one of the most delightful anywhere (see our gallery). Outside, the front end has a real bearing and modernity. And that tail? Those blacked-out pillars? That featureless bootlid? You know, eight months on, they're making sense too.

This isn't some straight-laced business saloon, so why should it look like one?

Paul Horrell
Consultant Editor, Top Gear magazine