At this of all times, you could be forgiven for thinking Vel Satis is someone who was disappointed not to get on for Paraguay in the later stages of their game against Spain. In fact, it's a new Renault. Or, as Renault would hope to persuade us, a new Renault that is also a new kind of car.
Renault appears to be very excited about itself at the moment, having taken on the task of reinventing, if not the wheel, then at least the car that goes on top of it. The year's most challengingly shaped vehicles are all Renaults: the Vel Satis, the Avantime and the upcoming remodelled Espace.
The Vel Satis looks like nothing else on the road at present, which means that people stare at it. They stare at its front end, with its bold lights and grilles and its Renault badge the size of a boxer's fist. And they stare at its elliptical, yet tightly creased rear, which seems reminiscent of the back end of an American hearse. "There's that car from the adverts," some of these people seem to be saying, while others appear to communicate the slightly more direct message: "What the hell is that?"
For the latter, I tried vainly to throw back a look that said: "Well, it's a real alternative to the current crop of conventional four-door saloons, a tall, roomy and refined vehicle, offering luxury-class features in an elegant, daring and distinctive executive class car." Which is exactly what it says on the press release.
But that's a lot to communicate with a single look. Indeed, it's a lot to say with a straight face, but Renault is doing its best on the Vel Satis's behalf. The essential premise is that the traditional low-slung saloon car is all washed up - inflexible, generic-looking, as conservative as Norman Tebbitt and altogether so last century.
Today's "busy lifestyles" don't just command a glorified armchair with a decent sound system attached. They need a lavishly upholstered, suit-friendly car into which you can, nevertheless, shove a mountain bike or two at the weekend, along with at least one dog and any number of children.
Thus the Vel Satis. Looked at coldly, it's a hatchback for giants. The car is 13cm taller than the average saloon. You can virtually walk two-abreast through its doors, so handsomely wide are they, and the driving position won't feel like a comedown to anyone who has previously been using a bus.
At the same time the car must have one of the longest bonnets this side of a Rolls-Royce. And the quality of its extensively padded interior, with its golf-club woodwork and viciously stylish hi-fi, ought to satisfy the chippiest of executives. It's an ambitious amalgam, all in all: status symbol and family junkyard in the one convention-snubbing package. The ride is suitably spongey and glitchless, and the 3-litre automatic version I drove could make you forget you were dragging a lot of weight around. Design faults: the boot lid is hefty and bringing it down constitutes a comprehensive upper-body work-out. Of course, this could be an advantage for anyone who wants to achieve flexible neck and shoulder muscles without going anywhere near a gym.
The unlock button on the credit card-style ignition key was a bit touch and go. Or rather, touch and not go. And over speed bumps the suspension gave a rattle not altogether dissimilar to the noise produced by someone taking a running jump onto a brass bed. But the real selling point here is the space. The back seats may be the most comfortable on earth at this price. In common with the front seats, they appear to have been lifted from the business section of an aircraft. It was hard to sit in one and not expect the imminent arrival of the drinks trolley. There is room not only for your knees but also for the bits of leg that happen beyond your knees which car-builders so often seem to forget about.
The thing about visions of the future is that they tend not to age well. It may affect prospective purchasers that, in three years, the Vel Satis could look about as happening as Beverley Craven. At which point, selling one on could prove tricky. In the meantime, it's tomorrow's car today. And for the next few weeks at least.
