A Mercedes GLC but with a swoopier roofline just about covers it. We’re into second generation territory now, and given that the SUV is the firm’s best-seller these days, a follow-up coupeified variant was inevitable. Lo and behold, here we are.
Undoubtedly its biggest rival is the BMW X4 (a coupeified version of the X3 SUV), but it also competes with the Audi Q5 Sportback (again, a coupeified version of the Q5 SUV – spot the theme here), along with the Range Rover Evoque and Porsche Macan, which like to think of themselves as stylish choices.
What’s changed compared to the previous generation?
Well, the new car is 31mm longer and 5mm higher compared to its predecessor, while the longer wheelbase and wider track widths (6mm at the front and 23mm at the rear) result in a smidge more interior space. Oh, and the 0.27 drag coefficient is three hundredths better than before. Captivated yet?
Design changes mimic those to the regular shaped GLC SUV, and they’re very much tweaks rather than wholesale. Note the slight updates to the front headlights, grille and lower front bumper, wheelarches and rear lights over the old car.
Inside, it gets a 12.3-inch digital instrument display and the now obligatory 11.9-inch portrait infotainment touchscreen, which sits loud and proud in the centre console. Indeed, buttons have been pretty much done away with completely. More on that over on the Interior tab.
What about under the skin?
In the UK, your options include a trio of mild-hybrid assisted units, all 2.0-litre four-cylinders. Your sole petrol option is the 300, while your diesel options consist of the 220d and 300d. All get a starter-generator unit and 48V electrics to support coasting and energy recovery, plus four-wheel drive.
There are also a couple of plug-in hybrid versions too, in the shape of the 300e and 300de. Excellent news if you happen to be reading this with your company car hat atop your head. They make full use of the slippery aero with up to 78 miles of e-range. Even more excellent news if your commute is 39 miles long.
And how does it, er, go?
While it steers nicely and the start-stop functionality works well enough, the gearbox is far too indecisive and very hesitant when pulling away, to the extent that on more than one occasion it resulted in rollback at traffic lights. At which point you discover just how little you can see out of the rear window due to the sloping roofline.
In the UK, all but the PHEVs get sports suspension, as opposed to the four-link front suspension and multi-link independent rear set-up (plus optional air suspension and rear wheel steer) that you get over in Europe. It’s a shame, because we found it far too firm for a family SUV, the other set-ups much improved.
Is there a go-faster version?
There is – the AMG badged GLC 53. It replaces the 2.0-litre 4cyl GLC 43 and GLC 63 with a 3.0-litre straight six, outputting some 443bhp and 443lb ft, rising to 472lb ft in overboost. That’s sent to all four wheels via a nine-speed auto gearbox, allowing for a 0-62mph time of just 4.2s and a limited top speed of 155mph.
So it’s quick on paper, and feels impressively capable (if very firm riding). But the bigger question is, could you really show face in such an obnoxious looking thing, complete with pops and bangs and fake exhaust pipes? Lest we remind you, this is a family wagon. It all feels a bit confused.
How much are we talking?
Prices start from £60,695 OTR for the 220d, £62,770 for the 300 petrol, and £69,320 for the 300d, which forces you to step up one trim level.
Got your eye on the plug-in hybrids? That’ll be £66,725 for the 300e, or £68,975 for the 300de. Those two also get their own special Urban Edition trim. Like-for-like with the GLC SUV, that’s a hefty £6k hike across the board.
The AMG GLC 53, meanwhile, commands a minimum £81,250. Yikes. Head over to the Buying tab for the full lowdown.
Like the standard GLC SUV, the second generation GLC Coupe is very much about evolution rather than revolution. It prides itself on style, and so sacrifices headroom, bootspace and rear visibility to achieve that swoopier roofline. It looks great and make you the envy of your cul-de-sac.
But was the surgery worth it? We’d argue not. The huge premium it carries over its more practical sibling is tough to swallow, and the ride falls into the chasm between comfortable and sporty.
Throw in the iffy throttle response and Merc’s habit of being too tech heavy, and you’ve got yourself a very mediocre car.