1998 Acura Integra on 2040-cars

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2019 Acura ILX first drive | New looks, same lackluster performance

Acura knows what it takes to make a fun, compact car that enthusiasts desire. It did so for three decades with the Integra, which eventually morphed into the still fun RSX. Then the ILX came around for the 2013 model year, and the world collectively yawned. It's actually still yawning, and the 2019 redesign isn't doing a whole lot to change that. One might expect more wholesale changes from a car entering its seventh year on the market, but we're still staring down the barrel of the same 201 horsepower 2.4-liter naturally aspirated four-cylinder and trick dual-clutch automatic transmission (which also features a torque converter for low-speed smoothness) from before. These pieces aren't necessarily the problem though. It's enjoyable to thrash the engine out to 7,000 rpm, and the dual-clutch snaps off surprisingly quick shifts when using the paddles in manual mode. It's a bit of a throwback to before all of Honda's performance engines switched to turbocharging for power. It pulls harder the more you wring it out, and begs to be paired with a slick-shifting six-speed manual like it was in the ninth-gen Civic Si. Sadly, everything else outside the powertrain (still) just misses the mark. The greatest part of Acura's old performance compacts was how they made you feel when you were driving them. There was an intimate connection between the driver and road at all times that is sorely lacking from the ILX. Turn in feel is soft and doesn't offer satisfying quick changes of direction. The old chassis feels its age in controlling body movements too. It all culminates in making the ILX feel like a larger car than it actually is. That's not to say the ILX handles poorly, though; it simply does so without any eagerness or feel — just like it has from the beginning. This is unfortunate because the ILX looks better than it ever has. Acura re-did the whole front nose from the A-pillar forward, and it attacked the rear fascia too. We got to check out and drive A-Spec trimmed cars, which add even more aggression to the styling but no performance upgrades. Sure there's three-too-many fake air vents, but the car finally grew some teeth compared to the ultra-bland looks from before. Props for not following the terrible industry trend of totally unreasonably-sized fake exhaust outlets too. The interior isn't as exciting.

Junkyard Gem: 1996 Acura 3.5 RL, Rocky Mountain Rambler 500 Edition

Honda had a good sales run with the Acura Legend, the first of the luxury-marque spinoffs from well-known Japanese carmakers to appear on our shores, but times change and the RL replaced the Legend as Acura's flagship starting in the 1996 model year. Here's one of those first-year RLs, found in a Denver boneyard covered in decorations from the Rocky Mountain Rambler 500 road rally. The Rocky Mountain Rambler 500 involves a lot of punitive off-road driving, so cars that have no business on the dirt seem to get coolness points. That makes Honda's most expensive vehicle of 24 years ago a fine choice of ride. I can't determine how well this car did, but the drivers looked optimistic during the inspections last month. Since the ignition key is still in the switch, I'm assuming it wasn't running so well after the rally and the team decided to bid farewell to their Acura in the lowest-hassle way possible: sell it to the nearest U-Pull-&-Pay. The team appears to have gone for a Pirates of the Caribbean theme with their big land yacht. The evil-looking wheel covers looked sharp. However, the Lord Humungus-grade roof spikes really make this car stand out, both on the rally and, now, in the junkyard. It seemed very clean, with the original owner's manual still in the glovebox. The MSRP on this car came to $41,000 in 1996, which amounts to about $69,000 in 2020 dollars. A new Lexus LS 400 cost $52,900 that year, though the $45,700 Lexus GS 300 was more likely to have battled for the money of potential 3.5 RL buyers. The 1996 Infiniti Q45 went for $53,520, while the J30 cost $39,920. The 1996 BMW 530i had a $42,750 price tag, but your Mitsubishi dealer had $25,525 Diamantes that year. Built on the idea that luxury doesn't have to be boring. Take that, Lexus!

Hands-on with Acura's novel touchpad infotainment interface

After Acura's Precision Cockpit was unveiled here in LA, I sat in the, uh, driver's seat of the wheel-less interior mockup to get a feel for how this new touchscreen-free touch interface works. There are a lot of good ideas inside. Here are 11 things you should know. It's less like a trackpad and more like a remote-control tablet. So instead of letting you move a cursor relative to its last location like the trackpad on a laptop, each point on Acura's trackpad is mapped to a corresponding point on the center display. If you want what's in the upper right corner of the display, you touch and click in the upper right corner of the trackpad. Simple. I figured it out in two minutes. Maybe less. The whole thing is surprisingly intuitive. The ease of use is helped by the fact that the targets on the screen are pretty big – no tiny "buttons" to fiddle with. The clicks are real. The trackpad actually moves when you press down, so no need for simulated haptic feedback. In their research, Acura engineers found that accidental touches and presses are a real issue. We could have told them that – hit a bump while using a finicky remote interface like Lexus's all-but-abandoned joystick thing, and you select an item half-way across the screen from the one you intended. The placement of the trackpad in this concept interior also helps avoid unintentional inputs – it's not in the middle of the center console where it might get brushed or bumped, but instead in its own little cave at the base of the center-stack waterfall. (Acura's low-profile button-based transmission selector suddenly makes a whole lot of sense.) View 13 Photos Lots of cues cut down on distraction. You hover over the option you want before positively confirming the selection with a hard press. There's no cursor to find and reposition like in the Lexus trackpad system The red highlight gives the necessary visual cue that you put your finger in the right place. The pad is slightly dished to give you a tactile cue of where the center and edges are. It allows you to build up muscle memory, sort of like how you know generally where the "keys" are on your smartphone or tablet's virtual keyboard by now. Or at least I do on mine. You look at the screen, not what you're touching. The problem with touch screens is that they have to be low down in the car so you can reach them. That means you have to look down from the road to stab at what you want.