2005 SCION tC

This one has to work. As the opening shots for its new Scion brand, Toyota fired a hatchback and a four-wheeled shipping crate, otherwise known as xA and xB, at the teenage target. That's an odd move by anyone's call, but now Toyota is supplementing its duo with a type of car kids are actually known to desire: a sports coupe. Having landed alongside the xA and xB in June 2004, the new tC ("xC" would have invited a rumble with Volvo's lawyers) coincided with the national launch of the brand, having been confined to California the year prior.

Just as the tC's look and name differ from its showroom partners, so do its roots. Here you won't hear any echoes of the Echo, the Toyota econobox with barely enough power to get out of its own way. Instead, the sexiest of Scions is based on a car that Europeans call the Avensis, and to be honest, any car good enough for Europe is good enough for us.

Road Test

Scions come loaded with all kinds of amenities. The tC marks the first time a real engine is one of them, thanks to having the same aluminum, twin-cam, 16-valve, 2.4-liter 4-cylinder that makes the same 160 horsepower it makes in the Camry. That puts the tC in the thick of the hunt against four-door equivalents like the Mitsubishi Lancer Ralliart, Mazda 3 s, Nissan Sentra SE-R, and Ford Focus ST - cars at the head of the class, with all the punch you need in everyday driving. Our test car was fitted with a TRD exhaust system, which is a $525 way to keep the volume constantly cranked up. Whether that makes it too loud is personal preference - males seemed more partial than females - but one benefit of the prominent exhaust is the way it highlights how transparently the automatic transmission shifts gears. Having no manual gate means if you want to do that yourself, you'll have to get a true stickshift, but don't feel like you're missing out by ordering the automatic. Since the tC has more torque than horsepower (rare for a Japanese car), the tC is always fast on its feet no matter how fast the engine is spinning. The downside is that it doesn't offer much of a thrill as the revs rise, and worse, the party's over by 6,200 RPM. (If you fit Scion demographics, think of what a 9:00 curfew feels like.) Getting back to the positive, our one-gas-tank driving sample netted over 29 miles per gallon. Even accounting for a possible fluke factor, that's pretty amazing.

Even with its absurdly large and low-profile P215/45R17 tires (those would be stock tires), the tC's absorption abilities are at least as good as the Mazda's and a shade better than the Mitsubishi's, which both stand on softer rubber. The car is always behaved, making freeway drives fairly calm and civilized. The big footprints also mean the tC has no problem getting a grip, and the tC's limits before veering off course are respectably high. (Downside: the tires' near-suicidal treadwear rating of 160 means they'll be gone in about two years). The suspension is much like the great-handling Toyota Celica's - struts in front, double-wishbones in back - but since it's supporting about 400 extra pounds, the chubby tC is a little less frisky. The steering provides pretty good road feel and has an appropriate heft (much of it engineered-in) but the steering ratio is way up there at a sedan-like 17.7:1. If you're an enthusiast, that will be the third number you've glanced at - the others being the heavy 2,970-pound curb weight and the long 106.3-inch wheelbase - that makes you wonder if Toyota had you in mind when designing this car.

Make no mistake: the Scion tC drives richly, competently, and provides some entertainment. But only some. If the tC were a Toyota, its name would be "Celicamry." The average driver will find a lot to like, but tuner kids looking for new rides to pimp won't be tossing their VTEC rockets in the junkyard for this.

Inside and Out

True to coupe tradition, you open two long and heavy doors (allegedly reinforced with a higher-than-usual amount of crash protection) to enter the tC, then sit low and have to reach waaay back there for the belt. But there's an adjuster for seat height to keep you out of the basement, and another knob for cushion angle. I found the latter to give almost as much angle as I wanted for proper thigh support. I also sat with my seat all the way back, and because my hair frizzed against the headliner, I'm sure many six-foot-plusers will bonk their heads even with the seat at its lowest, thanks to those dual moonroofs. And unless you sit this way, the armrest might feel a little low and the power windows a little far back on the doorsill. Ergonomic flaws in a Toyota - who knew?

Those are the superficial; now for the serious: when driving too fast in a canyon (is there any other way?), the low roof, fat A-pillars, and the big mirror conspire to impede your view out, especially when charging uphill. Blind spots to the front make it hard to have fun on your own.

With that out of the way, the interior is otherwise a great place to sit. The nylon-like seat material (also used on the doors and center console) isn't much to run your fingers through, but it grips your back like the tires grip the road, and it ain't cheap. Nothing else is, either. The metallic trim thing might be cliché by now, but for this price class, everything in the tC's interior impresses in its feel and operation. The switchgear is all high-quality, the gauges are clear, there's enough storage for odds and ends, and the seats are comfortable after several hours. When you turn the key to "on," all gauges instantly spin to the end of their dials and back (petty Pontiac plagiarism).

The back seat is remarkable if inconsistent: it has a lot of room for legs but doesn't support them with a decent cushion. Six-footers will also have to crane their necks to fit under the sloping roof, though others will find plenty of room. It's also pretty airy, and it's safe thanks to three three-point seatbelts and three head restraints. Anyone expecting a Nissan 240SX-like torture chamber will be pleasantly surprised. Lastly, this is a hatchback coupe that can swallow things regular coupes can't, like 27-inch TVs.

One youth-market assumption that Scion has correct is that kids have sharp and demanding ears. The Pioneer unit in all Scions features 160 watts, MP3 capability, color adjustability, and a graphic equalizer you'll want to set to "Feel." What crisp treble, what booming bass, what warmth! You'll feel it, allright. This stereo can make FM sound like DTS. I've sampled the Mazda 3's Bose, the Mitsubishi Lancer's Infinity, and the Volkswagen GTI's Monsoon, and it's safe to say we have a new winner.

But it needs a volume knob - badly. The push-buttons are even more annoying than on Pioneer's aftermarket systems because the increments are so small. Driving from rest to freeway speeds calls for about 20 pushes of the "+" button. Annoyance turns to danger when your music is blasting and you have to suddenly brake, but your brain - which is programmed to avoid short-term pain no matter the consequences - directs your right hand to frenetically push the "-" button, even though something else at the moment is obviously more deserving of your attention.

Scions come impressively loaded for sub-$20K cars. All that standard stuff - AC, power windows with one-touch up/down, power locks, cruise control, dual Panorama moonroofs (only the front opens), multi-adjustable driver's seat, six-speaker Pioneer stereo, keyless entry, outside temperature gauge, antilock brakes, electronic brake-force distribution, driver's knee airbag, tire-pressure monitor, first-aid kit - leaves only one major option: side airbags in the front seats plus side curtain airbags front and rear. Consider it essential if you value your life. With that $650 option and the $800 automatic transmission, a tC lists for $17,965.That's a low enough number, but all Scions share the blessing and/or curse of no-dicker stickers (heretofore a Saturn exclusive), so the number is final. The other thing common to Scions, aside from buying them in the same showroom where your grandfather bought his Avalon, is that their list of standard equipment is outdone by their list of mods. A partial list includes $145 floor mats ($19.99 at Costco), $219 car cover ($19.99 at Costco), $169 bra, $250 interior light kit, $299 leather steering wheel, $385 spoiler, $465 fog lights, $469 alarm, $449 Bazooka subwoofer, $525 muffler, $995 ground effects, and $1,565 for 18-inch wheels. Knowing the target market's grasp on the value of money, Toyota can expect to make a fortune here.

Speed freaks will soon be able to buy a supercharger kit that boosts horsepower to 200 and price by about $3,000. At just over $20,000, that would be a fair price against the similar Chevrolet Cobalt SS and Saturn Ion Red Line, and a great price against the Acura RSX Type S.How does the tC stack up against its current competitors? Against coupes like the Hyundai Tiburon V6 and base-level Acura RSX, it's a raging bargain. Despite their negotiable stickers, similar models run closer to 22 grand than the tC's 18. Against its four-door counterparts, the tC stacks up pretty evenly. The only tangible difference seems to be its door count and the diminished space that entails; the tC is an EPA "subcompact" fighting among a crop of compacts. Does its curvier bod make up for it?