Volkswagen Returns to Form With the New Golf R - Wall Street Journal

GENEVA TO BARCELONA is about 1,000 kilometers and a solid 10 hours in the driver’s seat, if you take the scenic route. My borrowed 2015 Volkswagen Golf R (four-door compact hatch) and I were wheels up at 0700, getting acquainted as we threaded Geneva’s early rush of traffic and trolleys in a fitful sleet. The route, the A75, will take us through one of the Protestant Reformation’s great killing fields, the town of Issoire. The guidebook also notes it’s the birthplace of the Frenchiest of French motorcycles, Voxan. So, a full morning of martyrs and fools.

Lunch along the coast, in Montpellier, and then an easy cruise into central Barcelona, where the forecast calls for widely scattered awesome.

Provided I don’t drown first. A hissing rain was falling at the customs plaza as I drove into France, a downpour that tried but failed to overtake my Golf R’s wipers. German cars, you know.

And, if I may be innocent for a moment, that’s all I ever asked of VW. As an American, my expectations include the idea that these are products proven on Germany’s Autobahn and built to a higher standard. I understand, it’s wrongheaded and romanticâ€"after all, global car-building is intrinsically self-leveling so that no one vehicle can maintain much of an advantage for long. But there you are. I want my VW’s wipers to be quicker, headlights brighter, brakes stronger, suspension stiffer, switches snappier. I want my VW, any VW, to feel planted as it sweeps across the asphalt to overtake at 90 mph.

I want my VW to have that sense of fit and execution that comes from being built by hand-wringing perfectionists. And I want all that presented with arid logicality and no wasted movement in design, interior or exterior. I am willing to pay extra to get extra, but what I’m purchasing is content, not prestige. I want to feel the Bauhaus. I want the V to stand for “Vulcan.”

The car in hand represents a return to form for the VW brand on both fronts: It indeed costs more (the full boat “Golf R with DCC and Nav” costs $39,910, delivered); but it is also, again, a blazing gem of a German car. Based on the freshly modernized seventh generation of the Golf hatchback and built only in the company’s keep of Wolfsburg, the Golf R boasts the same running gear as its higher-caste cousin, the Audi S3: a turbo’ed 2-liter, 292-hp, direct-injection four; a six-speed dual-clutch transmission (VW calls it DSG); and a Haldex all-wheel drive, which apportions torque to the rear axle as needed. Add the racy Bridgestone Potenzas hanging out the corners and you have a lot of grip and power.

The hot hatch generally, and the Golf R specifically, embodies a kind of perfect car to young Europeans: versatile, compact, affordable to park (bigger cars are penalized or taxed in city center), with small displacement engines, yet quietly, desperately fast. Cars like the Ford Focus RS (which I saw in the wilds of France this trip, like a Sasquatch), Subaru WRX STI, and the Golf’s corporate cousin, the Seat Leon Cupra 280, are celebrities. Every place I stopped kids positively lusted after the Golf R.

In the interests of a fully immersive European drive, VW arranged for a Golf R with the optional six-speed manual transmission (available late summer in the U.S.). But I have also driven the Golf R with the dual-clutch. The experiences are distinct. The dual-clutch transmission is just so there, whether you leave it in automatic or you paddle-shiftâ€"fluid gear changes on or off the gas with minimal delay and lots of range and control. The DSG car is .3 second to 60 mph quicker than the one you stir by hand.

But the six-speed manual is a riot, too, and a great way to fend off boredom on a long trip. I like to play Toll Plaza, where I compare a random group of cars’ acceleration against mine. Indulge a theater of the mind, and turn up the speakers.

What a fiery little bobbin this engine is: sonorous, revvy, even a bit raunchy. I like the fact you can wind the engine to redline and just leave it there on the fuel lean-out point, howling. Most other engines would stammer on the rev limiter. The inline four, code-named EA888, is a highly massaged version of the engine in the GTI, with a hot-rod head, valves, pistons, and the hyperventilating turbocharger, creating a table-flat torque curve, 280 pound-feet, from 1,800 to 5,400 rpm. That’s a lot of vroomlichkeit for a little car.

Also it is only with the manual (and stability control switched off) that you can kick the clutch and blip the throttle to get the Golf R to break loose agreeably, crabbing on power until the multiplate Haldex system unwinds things. A little bit, anyway. It’s a good way to leave the roundabout so one must be judicious.

As I beat toward Lyon, the mountain peaks are dusted with snow and all but the tunnels are shrouded in a cold fog. Traffic speed is reduced. These are perfect conditions to test the distance-keeping cruise control, actuated by way of well-organized switches built into the steering wheel. Check. The Golf R comes with lane-keeping assist, as well. The instrument panel has a chatty graphical display between the analog dials. The dash fascia is glossy black plastic, like wet ink. This car does a fair impersonation of an Audi S3.

I know how this went down. Juergen said to Franz, “You know, we really messed up with VW enthusiasts by sucking the cool out of our cars in the interests of inflated profit expectations. I feel bad.” Franz: “Me too. Let’s make it up to them with the Golf R.”

Because this car has everything one could hang on a C-segment four-door for $40,000. Our example, in submarine gray, looked ah-mazing in the fog and rain, thanks to the Golf R’s menacing LED daytime running lights and bi-xenon mains, like white-hot horseshoes. That is some hovercraft you’re driving there, mon ami.

The Christmas list also includes a navigation system, a really good one, finally; multimode sport suspension, which tightens up the laces a bit when you want to challenge some curves; and 19-inch sport tires wrapped around alloy rims. The 10-way power adjustable, stitched-leather driver seat has side bolsters like one of Temple Grandin’s cow-hugging machines. The electric-assist steering (progressive variable-ratio) is tight and full of intent (2.1 turns, lock to lock), and the stitched flat-bottom steering wheel makes my hands happy.

The Golf R’s exterior aesthetic relies not on surface excitement, which is minimal, but on stance: the way its volume sits over the wheel arches. It’s a potent presence, a little Achilles (.2-inch lower than the standard GTI), an effect brought about by the R’s aero-skirts, the chin spoiler front clip, the baby diffuser rear (between quad-exhaust chrome tips) and side skirts. Interestingly, the model with the lower price point, the Golf GTI ($27,305), is the one with the crazy strakes in the lower front intakes.

Yes, VW, this is a good car. It has charisma. You have my attention. The Golf R feels very much like a course correction, and I like where this is heading. Now, can you spread the magic around?

I hear there is a Golf R SportWagen out there. I would love to ride that unicorn.

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