Saturn SL1
Are you buying a car when you buy a Saturn, or are you buying an
experience?
The car's basic mechanical bits, even in the low-line SL1 package,
are, after all, above reproach. Its brakes are strong and connected
to a firm pedal; its engine, even in single-cam mode, produces ample
acceleration in city traffic and has more than enough passing power
on the highway. Its optional four-speed automatic transmission always
seems to be in the right gear, shifting smoothly, and relative to
other automatics, exacting only a small penalty in fuel consumption.
Its suspension soaks up bumps well.
The SL1's steering is quick, with nice feel, though there's a bit
of free play in it; its biggest problem is actually the steering
wheel itself. With its two low-mounted spokes and horn buttons, it
discourages you from holding it in the proper 9 o'clock and 3 o'clock
positions. If you do, and have fingers as stubby as mine, you won't
be able to reach the horn fast enough when you need it.
The Saturn's interior feels spacious and airy, despite my test
car's black sometimes shiny, sometimes-textured plastic and fabric.
All of the controls are in the right places, though temperature and
ventilation are operated by sliders small enough to lose sight of at
night. The radio is mounted up high and has a big display and
buttons; my test car had an optional CD player that included a
pointless five-band graphic equalizer.
Part of the reason that the SL1 feels as roomy as it does, though,
is because of how low the seats are mounted&emdash;a problem
exacerbated by my shortness. Despite the car's large glass area, I
was unable to see its corners and place them accurately, which made
the car seem bigger than it actually was. (The uplevel SL2 offers
height-adjustable seats, though they are still reclined too far at
their most vertical setting for my taste.)
Outside, Saturn's famous polymer body panels are finished nicely,
though they don't fit very well. They do, however, bounce back from
most minor impacts, saving owners the cost of replacing the
part&emdash;most dents and scratches can be buffed out of the finish.
Saturn owners, interestingly, consider the panels an extremely
important feature&emdash;and according to GM, they're willing to pay
a premium for them. When the company surveyed its plastic-van owners
on the same topic, they were unwilling to pay for the feature, hence
the new Venture/Trans Sport/Silhouette's metal bodies.
In the end, buying a Saturn is less about buying a great little
car than buying a great purchase and ownership experience. It's about
a nationwide one-price, no-dicker sticker, and about a thirty-day
money-back guarantee. It's about the friendliest, best written, most
intelligent and most lavishly
illustrated&emdash;hardbound&emdash;owner's manual I've ever seen.
It's about rebate checks after midyear price cuts, and invitations to
Saturn barbecues.
Trips to a couple of Saturn retailers&emdash;"dealer" is a bad,
bad word to use amongst Saturn folks, who don't "deal"&emdash;bore
out much of the good press that they've garnered. The sales
associates were friendly, patient, and knowledgeable about the cars.
What price, though, such peace of mind? Stickering at $20,078,
albeit with air conditioning, ABS, traction control (rare in this
class), and a dimwitted alarm system, my SL1 tester lagged behind its
competitors in superficial but ultimately important stuff like build
quality, interior ambiance, and at least in my view, looks. It's a
fine driving car, to be sure, but, from its ill-fitting centre
console to the quality of the engine's noise at idle, was less
refined than I had expected.
Still, it's hard to put any kind of a price tag on peace of mind.
Buying a Saturn looks to be a lot easier, a lot more pleasant than
any other make on the market; if you've not the stomach for
negotiation, and are willing to put up with some admittedly rust-free
rough edges, you won't go wrong with one.