It’s here that the Supra’s inherent BMW-ness is most apparent. Open those long doors and lower yourself into the snug, cosseting cabin and it’s the sheer volume of Munich-sourced fixtures and fittings that draw your eye and slightly confuse your brain.
A little effort has been made to hide the BMW connection in places (infotainment graphics, driver assistance controls, digital instruments), but the HVAC controls, column stalks, iDrive infotainment suite and gear selector are all lifted from BMW’s parts bin without any attempt made to hide it.
It makes for such a jarring first impression that you can forget what you’re driving, at least for a while, and wonder if it’s not the Toyota badge on the steering boss that seems more out of place than all of the BMW content encircling it. Several testers bemoaned the lack of apparent individuality you might expect of a Japanese sports car – and you would expect lifelong Supra enthusiasts who have been eagerly awaiting the A90’s arrival to feel that particular shortcoming even more keenly.
At the same time there’s objectively little wrong with the functionality of the Supra’s cabin. The controls are all within easy reach, there’s plenty of adjustability in the seating position and there’s a fair amount of storage space by the standards of the wider class: the car’s 290-litre boot is easily large enough for a weekend’s luggage.