The ambience within the M5 entirely befits a supersonic executive saloon. The architecture is leaner and cleaner than you’ll find in a Mercedes-AMG E63 but no less luxurious-feeling, and yet more welcoming than any RS-badged Audi.
It remains ostensibly 5 Series, of course – albeit with red switchgear, illuminated logos in the headrest, optional ceramic-finish switchgear, tight-knit Aluminium Carbon panels and seats that could have been plucked from the fertile mind of Syd Mead. It’s a wonderfully lit environment at night, too, and you can select the colour of the luminescent piping that encircles the cabin. (The choice extends further than blue, purple and red.)
Aesthetics aside, the expectation of an M product is ergonomics bordering on perfection, and if you’ve not driven the current M3, you might think this M5 does exceedingly well in this regard. There’s adjustability enough to place the thick-rimmed steering wheel just where you like it, and BMW’s admirable tradition of slanting the dashboard towards the driver doesn’t go unnoticed.
However, the driving position is a fraction too high. It feels as though it has been tailored for imperious touring on an autobahn rather than getting down and, at this time of year, exceedingly dirty on a British B-road; which, you may think, is fair enough. Those of this parish would also welcome a more dramatic tactile feel from the gearshift paddles.