THAT’S NOT EXACTLY true, in fact the original Jaguar XJ220 (372.5kW in concept trim) made almost the exact same power as its descended relative, the XFR saloon makes today at 375kW. Only, the XJ220 was at one point the fastest production car in the world and the XFR, well that’s the slowest saloon here. In automotive terms, these are juggernauts. Bullies crafted from steel and aluminium, blunt weapons at the sharp end of the performance sword, cut and thrust into a world where eco-awareness and social responsibility are held in high regard. Here and now, carbon emissions are the common denominator by which every car’s merit is measured against in everything from a three pot city car to a twelve cylindered Italian exotic. Where’s the green? Enter forced induction, and the metal snails and blowers plus their host of ancillaries pumping cold air into the V8 hearts of the super saloons assembled before you.

IMAGE GALLERY HERE

These have the dual purpose of boosting power and enabling manufacturers to reduce emissions with the fitment of smaller engines. The Jaguar gets a supercharger, complete with an eerie whine that spools up as you pile on the revs. The Merc and Bimmer each receive a pair of turbo chargers endowing the AMG with 386kW and the M5 with 412kW. You’d think the lower redline and compression ratios inherent of abnormal aspiration would mean tamer soundtracks but no, somehow the engineers have managed to ensure that these V8s still sound as though they’re jump-starting the planet. I must warn you; these are stupidly massive numbers to send exclusively to the rear wheels so each car comes equipped with a team of electronic nannies to wrap each weapon of maximum destruction in cotton wool and gauze. We cut through the fluffy stuff and see what lurks beneath on a 750km round trip to Saldanha Bay via some of the most testing passes on the map.

EXTERIOR

Our three slivers of silver are splayed out on a dusty road with Saldanha Steel mill behind them in the distance like a sinister theme park. The dust is still settling on everything, disrupted violently just now as each car came to a rest, the sound of their V8s still hanging heavily in the air. I think I prefer them a bit dirty, dusty… as though they’ve just been mined straight out of the earth.

‘The Mercedes looks so plain…’ someone mumbles. Crap. It doesn’t. Sure, in this company of growling Jaguar and chiselled BMW, each with hungry air dams and puffed out cheeks, it’s the Merc that shouts least loudly. I find myself defending it too often. I know what’s gone wrong here though. Because the E63 benefits from Distronic radar-guided cruise control, the Merc ‘tristar’ has been relegated atop the bonnet, like a crosshair, instead of sportier placement on the face of the grille. The vents at each corner of the front bumper help. Even the M5 gets criticised for looking too much like a regular 5 Series, a sentiment I don’t share.

However, it is the Jaguar that seems to tug hardest at the heart strings of onlookers with its plethora of R badges and that dassie-swallowing front bumper. Not convinced? How about LED running lamps the shape of Minotaur horns? ‘It looks proper!’ I’m not convinced; there should be an element of the ‘sleeper car’ in a performance saloon adding to its appeal. A set of 19-inch AMG-emblazoned two-tone multi-spoke alloy hoops do a great job of filling the E63’s massive arches, a task fulfilled even more convincingly by the twenty inchers found on the BMW and Jag. The latter car even gets the legend ‘SUPERCHARGED JAGUAR’ embossed on its wheels. Along each car’s front fender you’ll find their corporate IDs: an M5 logo, V8 Biturbo badge and JAGUAR lettering respectively. The rear ends have a story to tell too, with the BMW’s rear diffusers and M5 badging looking properly menacing and leaving no mystery as to its abilities – useful since it’s bound to be a familiar sight to the rest of us in traffic.

The Jaguar is too soft, like a weak chin – it’s my least favourite rump despite another R badge on its bootlid, whereas the Merc dials in just the right amounts of aggression and athleticism – Goldilocks would approve. Quad pipes abound, although the ones on the Merc each receive an AMG embossing. At this point, we never needed to be told.

INTERIOR

Climb into the Jaguar and you’re greeted with that familiar cabin we’ve come to love at topCar, blending opulence and kitsch with a bit of flash such as the rising gear dial and the glide-open air vents. A ‘push to start’ button shares real estate with the gear selector, hand brake and driving mode switches on the centre console. Again, R badges, this time on the steering wheel and glove box, plus embossed into each head rest. And one more on the multimedia screen. Things are different in the Mercedes. It’s a much darker cabin courtesy of a combination of rich black hide and dark wood trim, not a trace of humour – very, very German… I’m a fan. An almost conventional ignition key is used here, twist to start – that’s almost retro. The gear selector however is not. It’s essentially a hollowed out cube with the AMG coat of arms branded into the leather atop. A row of switches on the centre console allows you to fine tune your AMG settings such as throttle response, suspension damping, traction control and a one-hit AMG button that you can set as wildly as you like. The steering wheel is an interesting shape, not truly round, instead more like a chamfered octagon.

The result feels meaty, substantial. You sit low here, properly in the belly of the beast as opposed to atop the bench which is the default setting in the BMW. Here you have a perfectly round steering wheel complete with an M logo. Also on the wheel are two ‘M’ buttons, marked M1 and M2 – customisable in similar to fashion to the AMG button in the E63. On the centre console, you’ll find a conventional looking auto shifter but look closer at the diagram on the stick and it becomes clear that BMW have reinvented shifting. Left gives you neutral, right gives you forward drive in D (drive) and S (sport) settings. To reverse, hook left and up. Push to start returns in the M car. Settling into a good driving position is easy enough in each car but the Teutons just happen to be particularly good at gripping. AMG emblems on the Merc seats look a bit too stuck on for my liking.

PERFORMANCE

Let’s run the numbers again. The XF-R’s supercharged 5 litre V8 produces 375kW and 625Nm, this it uses to carry 1891kg of Jaguar. In the twin turbo M5 its 4 litre V8 churns out 412kW and 680Nm, it weighs 1945kg. The AMG’s 5.5 litre V8 Biturbo makes 386kW and 700Nm and weighs in at 1945kg. That’s a lot of power in some very heavy artillery yet the results over a quarter mile can almost be deduced just by looking at the mathematics. But, like going on vacation, getting there is half the fun. It’s a simple enough task in the Jaguar, simply thumb the chequered flag button for ‘Race’ mode, ditto the traction control button for a bit of slip. Next, select S for Sport on the transmission, flatten the pedal on the left, ditto the right and when the tacho needle bounces around 3000rpm jump off the brake. A deep metallic bellow erupts as we are catapulted at the horizon. That’s sprinted to 100kph in 5.03 seconds and crossed the 400m in just 13.16 seconds.

Next up it’s the brutish Bimmer. Setting up launch control takes a bit more effort here. I’ve already mapped the ‘M1’ button for the sportiest throttle response, suspension damping, steering feel and traction. Once you’ve managed to enter all the launch codes, shift into D, hold forward and flatten both pedals. We achieve our best run by modulating manually and beat the launch control to a tar-shredding 0-100kph time of 4.5 seconds. The E63 does it in 4.47 seconds. The M5 dominates the 400m race with a 12.42 second run. The E63 near matches it with 12.48 seconds. This is a lot closer than we expected. Interestingly bringing these cars back down to a full stop produces contrasting results. From 100kph the Jag stops first in 2.5 seconds, the Merc in 2.61 and lastly the BMW in 2.72. Impressed? Straight line antics do nothing to illustrate a chassis, it’s all motor. Gear changes are similarly brainless affairs when you’re in a traditional auto or an automated manual, simply rev up and wait for them to tick over. Stick any of these boxes into manual and you’ll want to appreciate them when the road starts to wind.

HANDLING

Handling is the yin to the ‘Performance’ yang, they’re on opposite sides of the same coin and crucially, it’s the relationship between the two that allows us to engage with, and, ultimately, exploit the car beneath us. We’ve found an abandoned pass just 80km outside Saldanha, a wickedly winding ribbon of tarmac that would make for a super-technical hill climb event in anything bigger than a go-kart. Our five metre long charges don’t struggle here.

The XFR and E63 are scrapping just ahead of the M5’s long bonnet, their brake lights illuminating then dimming in rapid succession as tiny stretches of straight quickly unravel into tar spaghetti, pitching and throwing us along its camber until the next straight section at which point we can feed in more power once again. The Jag’s more comfort-oriented suspension hurts it here causing the car to sway and yaw a fraction more than the Germans. Braking is good, put the boot in till the background ceases to blur, turn in and… oh dear. The steering once ideal on the long highway now suffers from a disconnect.

A vagueness has crept in robbing its driver of communication between his hands and the front wheels – hardly confidence inspiring, but certainly not insurmountable – I get used to it after three corners but am never totally at ease. Paddle shifting feels intuitive on this box, with cogs swapped quickly making the job of flowing from corner to corner feel natural, almost rhythmic – all the while a supercharged whine spurs you on. Aboard the E63 things are remarkably better. The steering is perfect. Is this really 60 kilos heavier than the Jag? The first thing that gets you is the soundtrack. Even at idle, this thing is feral. It’s growl grows from guttural to glorious playing each rpm increment like a musical instrument building up to a deep, booming crescendo – the shifter and throttle become noise makers and the act of stringing apexes together gives way to a more immature musical performance instead.

When you’re done orchestrating, hit the AMG switch and bury your right foot. The E63 responds with vigour and if you’ve any lock applied to the steering wheel prepare to melt some tyre even in its Sports handling mode. Keep it in line and when you get to your first corner simply brake firmly, turn in, feed in throttle and correct your steer if necessary. More throttle. Much more throttle. Instead of pitching you sideways, the car feels set up to have neutral steer on exit, tracking cleanly allowing you to place it with surgical precision. A too-soft transition between cogs means gear changes are best done in auto here, unlike the brutal shifts in the M5 which actually encourage you to shift by hand. That’s pretty much the ethos of M Division here. Everything that happened in the Merc happens quicker here – and harder, faster and even louder in the M5. Get past that initial learning curve of setting up the car for your driving style and you’ll eventually go quicker in the more raucous BMW, but it will be by an absolute ball’s hair and even then a testament to your own kahunas.

VERDICT

We went into this test pretty much convinced the M5 was going to walk its way to a victory. How could it not? It has the most power. It’s been built from the ground up by the technical gurus at M Division. BMW has been siring the sports saloon since the very beginning – there are simply no boxes left for Bavaria to tick. The Jaguar was our wild card, a British brute charging hard for our attention with genuine merit to be here. As for the AMG, I drove an E63 sans turbos two years ago and fell for it. Time has moved on however and I was not convinced that its revitalised and boosted replacement could manage to hold its own against the newer kids on the block. But it does. It has something the others don’t possess, a sense of specialness to it and an out-the-box alacrity never matched, not even by the BMW. Hop into the M5 and you’ll quickly be driving at seven tenths of your ability before carefully dialling up your bravery till you’re within sight of ten. The car goes up to 11. Jump into the Mercedes and immediately you are comfortable to take it to ten. Why is that? Is it the quickest? Almost, but no – that honour belongs to the M5. Is it the most comfortable? Hmm… that’s debatable. It’s hard to ignore the Jag’s long distance demeanour. Is it the best looking? Well that’s subjective, and while I’d argue the Jag is visually the most striking and the BMW has possibly the most road presence, it’s the Merc I’d park in my driveway thanks to its breadth of talent.

If anything it’s a testament to each car’s skillset how closely this was contended, they really are remarkable machines. Remember – the previous E55 AMG was a blunderbuss with the handling dynamics of Khulubuse Zuma in a Pick ‘n Pay trolley and nobody wants to remember the previous generation Ford-spawned Jaguars. Yet here they are sparring with the ubertank that started it all. It would have been easy for me to say just stick with the badge you know since they’re all fantastic flagships for their respective marques, but that would have been the coward’s way out of a sticky situation. The Merc wins. That ready-for-anything attitude, that intoxicating rolling thunder it generates from its V8 and the way it shrinks its two tonne form around its driver makes it the best car here.