Mercedes-Benz AMG CLA45 review

We simply have to start with the performance. Because it’s just flabbergasting. You need to keep a constant eye on the speedometer as its natural gait seems to be about 20mph over any limit. Which isn’t alien in the sports car world, but from a four-cylinder saloon it’s just mad. This is proper baby supercar stuff – ever-present, easily accessed power that just flings you mercilessly down the road.

The old CLA45 did a bit of that, too, but this new car operates with so much more sophistication. It’s a rip-roaring engine with no lag worth mentioning and such a voracious appetite for revs, you might leave it in auto even when manually shifting, just to save you the embarrassment of headbutting the rev limiter in its thrillingly sharp second and third gears.

It’s a great gearbox, actually, one that feels like it was made on a different planet to the regular CLA’s seven-speed auto. The eight speeds here are wonderfully judged, with shortly stacked ratios low down to give it a welcome intensity at moral speeds, while eighth gear sits below 2,000rpm and allows a quiet cruise. If you can ignore all the tyre noise rushing in.

But while it’ll grip ‘n’ go with carefree use of the throttle – like the old CLA45 – it’ll also give you more if you’re looking for it. There’s actually finesse and that old-fashioned ‘involvement’ stuff on offer, too, and if you take a deep breath and really go for it and you’re in for a truly mesmerising experience.

It’s the broad range of its character that’s most impressive. You want stress-free point-to-point pace, it’s available. Start fiddling with its (arguably over-complex) suite of driver modes and you can quickly sharpen the 45’s focus, loosen its electronic shackles and unlock something else entirely, feeling more and more power being fed to the rear axle for yet more poise.

It’s never a true hooligan – like a bigger, natively rear-driven C63 or E63 would be – but it certainly has a mischievous side. Especially in the wet. And you don’t even need to use its slightly gimmicky Drift Mode to find it. In fact, I bet you’ll forget that’s even there if you don’t venture near a race track. Which you surely won’t in a 1.7-tonne saloon. It really does carry modern-day Evo genes, its chassis’s behaviour morphing with your own.

There’s stuff it could do better, though. Chiefly the ride. The car’s body movements are astutely controlled but my word, is it firm. On a challenging road it feels unrepentantly stiff even in Comfort mode, which is why the numerous driving modes on top of that can soon feel superfluous.

I’d argue there’s as much need for this level of firmness as there is for its outrageous 415bhp output, and perhaps this car wouldn’t be the larger than life character it’s grown into in its second generation without either. But no matter how enthralling it is when you’re in the mood, it’s hard not to wonder what a 20 per cent softer, 20 per cent less powerful version would be like. Mercedes does make a 382bhp CLA45 (non S), but it doesn’t make it to British shores, and we suspect it won’t feel much less batsh*t in a straight line than its burlier brother.