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Full Test: 2002 Mitsubishi Lancer
Mediocrity, Thy Name Is Lancer
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By Liz Kim
Date posted: 09-26-2001
Big news, everybody. Mitsubishi is finally moving toward car names that actually
have meanings. Heretofore, we had to search in the dictionary (the big, hernia-inducing
one) as to what exactly a Diamante is (it's a sequin, rhinestone or other
glittery ornamentation on a garment.) A Montero is defined as a Spanish
hunter's cap, round in shape and having an earflap, because that conjures
up images of not one but two of the company's SUVs. Our spellchecker always
highlights Galant as inappropriate; "two Ls!" it chastises.
A couple of Mitsu's names are real words. Whenever we see an Eclipse, for example,
we are reminded of a naturally occurring phenomenon that used to scare the bejeezus
out of less scientifically astute generations. And a Mirage — well, there's
just no better way of connoting the image of a well-built car than something that's
without substance, an illusion, an ephemera. "Is that a good car?" "It's just
a Mirage." Many of you agreed. Of the 32,000 Mirages sold last year, only about
8,000 went to actual customers. The rest of them languish in rental car fleets.
And now, to replace the vanishing Mirage sedan, is the Lancer. That's more like
it. Lancer conjures up images of lace-festooned cavaliers, mustachioed villains
and, uh, clean-shaven honorable knights who thrust-and-parry in graceful duels
for the hand of the fair lady with the heaving bosom.
And the Lancer is graceful. Unilaterally praised was the suspension, which properly
sorted out the rutted and grooved roadways of California. The MacPherson-strut
front and multilink rear setup kept the 2,734-pound car planted through corners
and communicated the feel of the road. "You can feel the years of rallying coming
through with each turn of the steering wheel," declared our road test coordinator.
Yes, the Lancer is a sixth-generation descendant of the moniker whose ancestors
have a World Rally heritage that spans nearly 30 years and includes four World
Rally Championships. The ties, while tenuous at best, still translate to a well-balanced
car, one that can thread through the cones of our 600-foot slalom in a plucky
6.57 seconds at 62.3 miles per hour. Compared to the Mirage, the Lancer's structural
integrity has been improved by 50 percent in torsional rigidity and 60 percent
in bending rigidity. Helped along by a tight and nimble steering rack that gives
a modicum of feel from the road, and a tiny turning circle of 33.5 feet, you'll
have no trouble squeezing it into a tight parking spot. You could also almost
imagine yourself doing four-wheel drifts on a deserted dirt road, heading toward
the finishing line and a cheering crowd.
Right. Almost. The Lancer offered to the U.S. market is no Evo VII, much to the
chagrin of car dudes everywhere. Senior Editor Brent Romans expressed his articulate
best when he recalled: "When Mitsubishi announced at the 2001 New York Auto Show
that it was going to offer a Lancer in America, I stripped down to my undies and
ran through Times Square yelling, 'The Lancer is coming! The Lancer is coming!'
Despite the fact that no New Yorkers seemed to notice or care, you can only imagine
my later disappointment (and embarrassment) when I learned that Mitsubishi wasn't
talking about the real Lancer, the four-wheel-drive 280-hp Lancer Evolution."
Rather, this is a watered-down version for the cash-strapped masses, powered by
a 2.0-liter SOHC inline four that makes 120 horsepower at 5,500 rpm and 130 pound-feet
of torque at 4,250 rpm. A powerplant displacing two liters isn't particularly
small; but we feel that more horsepower can be wrought from it. While the engine
generates spirited noises that make it seem faster than it is, 0-to-60-mph acceleration
runs were achieved in a lackluster 10.5 seconds.
Of course, our tester's four-speed automatic tranny sapped all the power from
what was already a pretty dry well. Mitsubishi touts its adaptive shift control
system, a fuzzy logic software that "learns" the driving habits of its pilot and
adjusts shift points accordingly. However, the system takes about 45 minutes to
acclimate. On longer-distance runs, we did notice that during more aggressive
driving, shift points were held longer, allowing the engine to rev higher before
upshifting. But the best runs were achieved by manually shifting the lever through
the gears. Look, it's not very fast; plan well ahead for freeway merges. We'd
also be more interested in the five-speed manual, but alas, no such gearbox is
available in LS trim — you have to get an ES or O-Z Rally edition.
Engine noise accounts for most of the decibels during the ride. Well-insulated
spaces between the interior and exterior panels keep out road and wind noise.
No rattles or squeaks intruded while driving over smooth surfaces, although jouncing
over bumps revealed some looseness around the dash. Build quality was up to par
for cars in this class, with minor gap variances around the headlamp area. Around
tight corners and the parking lot, prepare for a lot of howling from the skinny
tires — the Goodyear Eagle LS P195/60R15s let you know well in advance that
they're not in the business of hanging on for dear life for your driving amusement.
The brakes, composed of front discs and rear drums, were fleet of foot, allowing
for 60-to-0 halts that took 127 feet. Our LS model was equipped with ABS, which
isn't available as an option on the ES or O-Z Rally versions. When engaged, the
system produces a lot of noise, but it does its job. We were impressed with the
lack of nose dive and rear squat upon stops and launches, again speaking well
of the suspension. The pedal could be tightened up to give better feedback, but
otherwise was well modulated.
Inside, a height-adjustable seat allowed most of our drivers to find comfort;
our editors, ranging in height from 5-feet 6-inches to 6-feet 2-inches, had little
to complain about. The seat bottoms are rather flat, though, and our long-femured
colleagues found them to be too short. Covered in medium-grade velour that's acceptable
for a car of this price point, we couldn't find too much to criticize, save for
its utter lack of character or sense of style.
A swath of faux wood splits the dash in two, adding a bit of color to the Lancer's
ashy gray interior. While the materials are soft-touch plastics, a knuckle rap
will reveal a hollow-sounding thunk. The stereo, while easy enough to use, reminded
our drivers of economy cars of two decades past with its small, glossy buttons.
A-pillar-mounted speakers are a classy touch, but they don't seem to enhance the
Lancer's mediocre sound
system. And the tiny, cylindrical tuning knob, while appreciated for its mere
existence, was perplexing for all.
The best part of the package is the roominess of the rear seat. With 36.6 inches
of legroom and 53.3 inches of shoulder space, it exceeds the dimensions of many
of its competitors. Indeed, the Lancer has almost all of them beat with 93.9 cubic
feet of passenger volume (the Hyundai Elantra has an even 94 cubic feet). These
generous proportions were achieved by a platform whose wheelbase is 4 inches longer
than that of the Mirage (resulting in a proportionate 4-inch increase in overall
length). Rear passengers get a fold-down armrest with cupholders and three-point
seatbelts in all three seating positions, but no true headrests are available.
Foot room is plentiful, but watch your shins, because a metal bar hides underneath
the plastic cover of the back of the front seats. Cargo space is 11.3 cubic feet,
with low liftover but a smallish hole through which to insert your parcels.
The Lancer has a well-padded list of standard features, such as power windows,
locks and mirrors; a CD player; air conditioning and dual-visor vanity mirrors.
The LS trim adds cruise control, remote keyless entry and 60/40 split-folding
rear seats, and you get the option of adding a Preferred Equipment group that
includes ABS and seat-mounted side airbags.
All this is rendered in a package that will offend few. With a more traditional
design and crisp creases in the sheetmetal, the Lancer is an improvement over
the invisible Mirage. If you're dying for that faux-Evo VII look, an O-Z Rally
package is available, with racing alloy wheels, bumper extensions for the front
and rear, side air dams, exterior and interior badges, a black interior with brushed
metal trim and white-faced gauges. Yes, it's still powered by the 120-horsepower
engine, and, no, there are no suspension modifications or tire upgrades.
Mitsubishi wants to forgo the bottom-end market (namely economy sub-compacts)
to the Korean manufacturers and concentrate on that next level of consumerism,
the economy compact. Trouble is, some of those low-end market cars are just as
tightly screwed together, and as well-equipped, as the Lancer is. Take the Hyundai
Elantra, for example. A Hyundai with all of the above features, plus a sunroof,
traction control and a 140-horsepower engine would come in more than $3,000 under
the Lancer's price.
While the Lancer represents a vast improvement over its predecessor, the Mirage,
aside from some of its handling aspects, nothing gleams to recommend it over all
the swell competition that exists in this class. And when it comes down to cars
of this class, money talks. Our LS model topped the scales at $17,242, which is
on the upper end of the compact economy sedan spectrum.
The Mitsubishi Lancer is a solid no-frills car, but with so much competition out
there, it turns out to be merely a contender, not a true competitor. Mitsubishi
hints that a larger 2.4-liter powerplant can fit into the engine bay, and, of
course, the company keeps doing the dance of the seven veils about bringing the
Evo VII to the American market. We're all a-tingle.
See all the Ratings: 2002 Mitsubishi Lancer LS 4dr Sedan (2.0L 4cyl 4A) Road Test Scoreboard
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