Lexus LM review

Chief engineer Takami Yokoo says that he “wanted to create a space where guests who are super busy or living active lifestyles can get back to being their natural self.” The LM builds out on the established Lexus principle of ‘Omotenashi’, which focuses on traditional Japanese ideas of hospitality, comfort and convenience. These guys were pushing a ‘wellness’ agenda long before it became fashionable, and the LM’s rear compartment is surely the most soothing this side of a Rolls Phantom. No, honestly.

We’ve got to start with the seats. Lexus claims inspiration from the world of first-class air travel, but the chairs in the LM are perhaps even better than that. Why? Because a mini van isn’t a jet and the seats are mounted higher up than usual. The centre of gravity can be problematic, which can lead to a swaying sensation and motion sickness. The LM’s chairs keep the occupant’s line of sight stable, special foams and materials in its construction reduce low-frequency vibrations, and side wires in the structure improve posture.

The head-rests provide support from the top of the back rather than just the neck, keeping your core more secure. They’re heated and ventilated, there’s an air pocket lumbar support system, and seven different massage settings. The upshot are the best seats we’ve ever experienced in a car. The heating even extends to the leg ottomans and the arm-rests. And of course they fold almost completely flat (see below). As do the seven-seater version’s.

The rest of the LM’s rear compartment is quietly – in every sense – impressive. Lexus does a nice line in understated bling, and the materials used are peerless, with hardly a trace of hard plastic to be seen anywhere, even in the places you could get away with it. Each occupant has a detachable smartphone-sized tablet which gives them control over the seats, audio, climate, electronic roof and window blinds, and ambient lighting (14 shades in five different mood themes – healing, relaxing, arousing (!), focusing and exhilarating). A roof panel duplicates some of this functionality, and deepens the jet allusions. Settings can be personalised and stored on a one-touch button. Neat.

The four-seater LM in ‘Takumi’ guise has a cabin partition that sits in a die-cast magnesium frame. It’s vaguely reminiscent of a New York taxi in configuration, but superior in every other domain. The upper section has a glass screen that can be raised or lowered, and dimmed in a split second by pushing a button. It also features thermal sensors which use infra-red surface temperature tech to scan the occupants and adjust the cabin atmosphere accordingly. This is integral to the LM’s so-called Climate Concierge, which uses nanoe™-X2 air purifying tech to minimise viruses and allergens. Doubly neat in this age of anxiety.

Below the partition is one of the LM’s more obvious showpieces: a 48in ultra widescreen monitor, tilted 15 degrees for the best viewing position. It can be configured as a full screen, a cinema one, or as separate left and right screens to run different content. Or you can plug two laptops into it to create two interfaces, using the fold-out tray tables to turn the LM into a mobile office, for Zoom/Teams meetings on the move.

Content can be streamed from whatever device you favour, and there are HDMI ports in the vast rear centre console (in the seven-seater version, a smaller 14in screen folds out of the roof). It’s easier to watch than the vaunted Theatre Screen in BMW’s i7, but can still spin your head a bit.

Audio is supplied by a bespoke Mark Levinson 3D surround sound system, with 23 speakers in the four-seat LM, 21 in the seven-seater. It’s stunning. There’s also a decent-sized refrigerator.

Big windows help keep you oriented – the side ones can be lowered – and it’s only when the LM is being hustled along a twisty road that rear passengers are likely to feel vaguely nauseous. Lexus hasn’t gone for absolute silence inside, because that’s just too oppressive. Insulation, air-tight sealing, acoustic glass and active noise cancelling all contribute to an almost monastic sense of calm. The four-seat LM also has five-layer headlining. Most of these cars will be locked into airport runs or picking their way through the city, and the comfort remains superlative. Yep, this Japanese mini-van is a highly credible Rolls-Royce rival.

It’s pretty good upfront, too, and uses Tazuna principles to minimise driver distraction (that’s the term used to describe the instinctive control a rider should enjoy over their horse). The centre console sits high and the infotainment interface is easy to use. The front seats are almost as comfortable as the ones behind, for enhanced employee relations (no-one wants a grumpy chauffeur). There are big storage bins and cup holders in the middle, although the door ones are oddly shallow.

The materials used are exemplary, with a new traditional Japanese Yebane herringbone wood trim used throughout. There’s even a Bengala red pigment in the steering wheel, usually seen in ceramics and rendering for buildings. And – yes! – there are bevelled physical knobs for the climate control.

Evidently, much thought has gone into this car. It’s even easy to park despite its size.