Review: BMW 335d is sweet, and diesel suits the 3 Series

LOS ANGELES -- Two things are wrong with the 2009 BMW 335d diesel sedan. Its $45,000 base price ensures most of America will be denied. And its tight back seat will keep those who acquire the diesel from sharing it with many people at a time.

Those are bad things because the 335d rages in the mind as among the sweetest machines on four wheels. Not despite its diesel engine, but largely because of it.

Need a truck or family bus? Perhaps a vehicle that actually fits the budget? The diesel 3's not on your radar. Even so, you can appreciate the heck out of it from afar.

BMW 3 Series sedans are slick-driving machines, and the diesel improves the breed. You don't get the heavenly, rev-happy smoothness of the in-line six-cylinder gas engines. But you get, instead, no compromise, just delight packaged differently.

For starters, the diesel delivers a staggering 425 pounds-feet of torque, more than Toyota's beefy 5.7-liter truck V-8. Torque is low-speed muscle that shows best in traffic, on hills or when towing.

Horsepower — this 3-liter, in-line, six-cylinder diesel has a credible 265 hp — is the higher-speed punch you use whistling onto the big road from an entrance ramp or passing the cellphone doofus on a two-lane.

There were ample samples of challenges on the test route in this city and its twisty, hilly environs.

Given the diesel's power, the driver is in charge of enough energy to place the car almost anywhere in an instant. Not true, of course. Laws of physics and all that. But you get where you want in a right smart hurry. Once you accommodate the conflicting demands of full-throttle thrills and jail-avoiding prudence, the diesel settles into a happy, symbiotic relationship with your right foot.

Two turbos, no waiting is a key to why the BMW diesel is swell to drive. A little one spins easily to boost power fast at low engine speeds. The larger one phases in at higher speed to keep the power boost coming. Unique to BMW, the company says.

The 335d engine sings a low, muted growl when spurred, near-silence when not. None of the gravel-in-a-tin-can rattle that intrudes on the enjoyment of other car diesels. Outside, though, it's obvious the car's a diesel.