Don't worry ... We'll get to Jaguar ...
1: Maybach vehicles are ugly. They may have lots of features, but they don't make any toys. There's nothing fun, about them.
Once you tire of all the buttons, nothing is left. You've just got a bigger Mercedes that's not fun to drive, with a bunch of stuff that won't work in five years.
You may as well sit in the back seat and take a nap and, if you're going to do that, just take a plane. I consider them pointless.
2: The Panamera is the Glock of luxury sedans. It's got features, sure, but it's dialed in for the Official Porsche Owner Experience.
Everything about it is tailored for a man who owns a pair of fitted driving gloves, but also has a wife, somehow, and managed, against all odds, to reproduce.
It was never meant for anyone else. You don't cross-shop a Panamera with another car. You buy one because you believe Porsche is perfect.
3: Bentley sedans are questionable, now. They've lost their edge and even their elegance, despite their power numbers, and have leaned into pop lifestyle.
Where there used to be sleeper fury, there is now a celebrity in the driver seat who doesn't duck the paparazzi. He wants the attention.
It's evidenced by their colors. Tourmaline doesn't even look like tourmaline. Mazda would do it far better. It's all for the sound of the word, itself.
Bentley is now a Tag Heuer watch. It gets noticed, but it's not the timepiece owners think it is.
4: Ze Germans are in a profitable rut, and haven't changed much.
Audi is for the man who uses the speakers on his TV, because even a soundbar would clutter his life, and who brings a California wine to a party.
BMW is for someone who wants the badge, because they're nowhere near what they used to be, but he doesn't know that. He just likes to say BMW.
Mercedes never regained their quality, and ride on the reputation of the businessman who's finally got the biggest cubicle next to the corner office.
5: Rolls Royce is different. They remember who they are. They still have a statue of a dude's one-night stand on the hood.
They've got a problem, though: That may just be a memory, at this point.
They've focused so much on having the most luxurious vehicles on the road that they've nearly forgotten how to build one.
The Wraith was the last true Rolls Royce, in my opinion, as a driver's car. It was superseded by an EV, which was in no way required.
Their four-doors, while they still have attitude, have been tamed into purely luxury experiences. The Phantom doesn't really count. It's not really something to drive.
Right now, they're a smooth ride and simple controls, and they do sell; but there are signs of a way about to be lost. They're barely hanging on to their internal image, and don't really compete with Jaguar.
6: Jaguar ...
They need to resurrect their spirit, and it's not a nice spirit. It's never been something to summon at a table in good company, as the candles might be blown out.
Under the hood has historically lived fire and brimstone, tamed just enough to manage if you don't floor the throttle. You can drive it, or you can take your life into your hands and hope for the best.
The made a different noise, and it wasn't as refined as the others. Their idea of luxury was some nice leather, a cool looking dash, and a steering wheel that fit your hands properly.
They took hell itself and draped it in silk, leaving just enough visible to attract the right owner. My XJS is a perfect example of that. It's sexy while remaining decidedly masculine, it's got a very looooong hood, and the body is shrink-wrapped around it's function.
I'll tell you a few Jaguar owner experiences:
I didn't call the cops after someone backed into it at 3AM off I95, one day, in a Waffle House parking lot.
Why? I had $15,000 in cash and an arsenal of firearms in the trunk, plus one bottle of absinthe, and I didn't want to have to explain myself when they opened it to see the damage. I just ordered the expensive replacement tail light later, and had someone in town polish the chrome and pull the dent out.
When I bought it, I stopped off and crashed a wedding after party at a very nice hotel, and enjoyed the free drinks until I was punched in the face and given a bloody nose by an eight year old kid for trying to score his mom for the night. Look ... I didn't know he was there, and she hadn't mentioned him.
One night, at The Cavalier, a fire was reported and a crazy lady convinced everyone a ghost had appeared. Everyone else was in the parking lot, well away from the building.
I was on a nice bench next to the front door comforting some hot exchange students with great hope for a group activity, until the crazy lady singled me out in her screams as someone who could see the ghost. To be fair, she may have been right ...
That was a strange evening, even for me.
People who buy those other cars don't end up in situations like that. They go where they're going, they use their GPS to skip traffic, and they never get lost along the way, or tempt fate with foolishness.
I'm a damned JAG man. I don't pretend to live a stupid life, I actually live it. The guy with the Audi shows up with a date, and I leave with her. Then, I call him the next day to come pick her up, because I want to sleep in.
They need to remember who they're selling to.
That's where they went wrong.