Last Update on : March 1, 2008
Saturn's process of Germanification is nearly complete.
 Failing to penetrate General Motors’ secure corporate sanctum, I’m forced to imagine the signs of culture shock: apfelstrudel has replaced Krispy Kremes at morning meetings. Engineers are boning up on Kant and Schopenhauer, loading Kraftwerk onto their iPods.
Under this program, the Saturn lineup has gone from sale-priced and plastic-clad to shapely and sophisticated — and done it in record time. As the company’s general manager, Jill Lajdziak, notes, the oldest model in Saturn showrooms was born just 18 months ago. The transformation can be traced to Opel, the German subsidiary of G.M. that helpfully donated the European-bred vehicles that became Saturn’s Aura sedan and the Vue crossover wagon.
The latest cultural exchange student is the Astra, a small Opel hatchback that other G.M. subsidiaries sell in markets from Northern Ireland to New Zealand.
The Astra is a solid little car, though I wonder what kind of welcome it will get here, at least initially. Not only is it a hatchback, which usually ensures niche status, the Astra is resolutely European, seemingly laser-focused on Continental tastes. And like all of the new Saturn models, it costs substantially more than the car it replaces.
Saturn’s previous attempt at a small car, the Ion, was as dumbed-down as a beer-swilling frat boy on a Panama City spring break, with similar straight-line tracking. But as another entry in a long line of innocuous G.M. compacts, it was at least familiar.
The Astra is light-years ahead of the Ion. And if G.M.’s traditional customers need an automotive Berlitz course to grasp the Saturn’s more rigorous and stylish approach, so be it, I say. The Astra makes a strong opening argument with its oversize headlamps, steeply raked windshield and stylish flared hips. It comes as a two- or four-door hatchback; the cars are almost identical in size, with the four-door’s roof rising 1.5 inches higher. I drove both models over eight days of testing.
Inside, the Astra presents an intelligent yet somewhat dour face; the coldly metallic center control panel reminded me of an old Marantz stereo. Yet the Astra does well by features, safety and craftsmanship. The seats are firm and well-shaped. The door panels and trim fit tightly.
The least-expensive Astra, the four-door XE starting at $15,995, comes with six standard air bags, including head-protecting window curtains; active head restraints to limit whiplash injuries; and the OnStar communications service.
My Astra XR two-door started at $18,495 and reached $20,380 with an optional leather package, heated seats, a six-disc stereo and 18-inch alloy wheels.
The cabin is also where you are first introduced to an assemblage of German quirks: the turn signal refuses to stand down even when you only want a few blinks for a lane change. A control for the dashboard information display toggles confusingly through menus.
Functions are labeled with strange pictographs; a button labeled BC turns out to be for the Board Computer, as if that clarifies matters. The key fob’s symbols are equally inscrutable.
The seatback adjuster is a wrist-wrenching rotary knob. And there’s only a single small cupholder, awkwardly wedged between the front seats as if to scold Americans who might sip as they drive.
Still, once you’ve climbed the learning curve, the Astra’s various interfaces become livable. The steering wheel controls, whose scroll wheels are dead ringers for Audi’s, efficiently direct the radio, CD changer and trip computer.
The Astra’s mixed-bag performance is topped by steering that is notably quick and accurate and a beer-stein solidity expected of a German compact, even if this one is built in Belgium. Motivated by a 1.8-liter Ecotec 4-cylinder engine with 138 horsepower, the Astra also delivers peace and quiet when cruising on the Interstate.
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