Suzuki Kizashi GTS

Average Fuel Economy: 27 mpg

If a great mid-size sedan falls into the showrooms of a small brand that few people know about, will anybody hear it? That’s the question posed by the Suzuki Kizashi, a hidden gem that has been mostly charming the staff as it heads into its home stretch with a swing through our Los Angeles office.
Before it ever leaves its Japanese factory, a Kizashi already has two strikes against it. Size-wise, it’s a neither-nor, wedged between mid-size stalwarts such as the Honda Accord and Toyota Camry and compacts such as the Mazda 3, which it most closely resembles in personality. Such “tweener” vehicles always struggle to win buyers who, for about the same money, can buy a larger car with fewer amenities or a smaller car with more frills.
The second strike is Suzuki’s paucity of dealers. Suzuki doesn’t have a captive lender such as Ford Motor Credit, so the credit meltdown tore a hole in the company’s U.S. distribution network. Dealers gave up their franchises, owing to a lack of available credit for buyers and floor-plan expenses. In Los Angeles, for example, where imports own the roads, Suzuki has no dealers in the trendier areas west of downtown and only six in the sprawling county, which measures roughly 100 miles by 100 miles and has a population of 10 million. In contrast, Honda has 15 dealers within 17 miles of downtown.
Like an Italian Car in One Way
Ferrari doesn’t have a lot of dealers, either, so a low dealer count isn’t necessarily indicative of product desirability. Our Kizashi has been running squeak-free and mostly without flaws since it arrived 14 months ago. It’s eager and flexible, able to go from a relaxed commuting capsule in the rush-hour stampede to a bratty little hole jumper when the driver’s blood pressure is up. The 185-hp, 2.4-liter four has real urge and puts cars in the rearview quicker than its paper stats or test specs (7.5 seconds to 60) would indicate, and it has returned an average of 27 mpg so far in our driving.
The seats, too, have been getting lots of happy thoughts, wearing like second skins over the long haul. A 900-mile run from L.A. to Reno, Nevada, and on to Monterey, California—a substantial day by anybody’s measure—left us relaxed and ache-free. Why can’t all cars have seats this comfortable? Also surprising is the Kizashi’s paint quality. Recently, we parked our platinum-silver Suzuki next to a similarly silver-hued $90,000-plus Mercedes-Benz S-class and noticed that the Kizashi’s metallic coat (a $130 option) was equally lustrous, with no obvious orange peel.
Drawing Fire
The biggest lightning rod for complaints is the six-speed manual’s shifter, which was never very tight or snick-snickity to begin with. Now it’s even looser and less fulfilling, and the reverse engagement feels as though you’re forcing the stick against a wad of rubber bands. Often we think reverse is engaged, only to hear the nauseating zzzzing! of a not-quite-meshed dog clutch. The start/stop button needs to be pushed twice or held down to stop the engine; that gets old. Finally, the brakes have seen their best days. Although there was still a safe amount of meat on the pads at the 30,000-mile checkup, the pedal is getting softer with time, and some judder makes its way up the steering column during harder stops.
The 22,500-mile service passed with a $105 bill, and the 30,000-mile service landed with a $376 thud, mainly because that is the service in which the coolant and various filters are replaced, including the $114 (!) cabin-air filter. For that kind of money, the air should be bottle-able as a health elixir.
The nearest dealer to our L.A. bureau raises the distribution-network issue. It is more than 30 miles away, and it’s hardly the gleaming retail center you find selling Hondas or Toyotas. It appears to be a former used-car lot, with a ratty little showroom and a service department located down a weedy back alley. It could be the best dealer in all of cardom, but in an era of dealerships seemingly made of chrome and stainless steel with klieg lights blazing in the night, this kind of brand representation won’t lift Suzuki’s image