2017 Lincoln Continental Reviews, Pricing & Specs

When Lincoln unveiled the Continental concept in 2015, the job was done. Then-chief Bentley designer Luc Donckerwolke was so outraged, he told Lincoln’s design chief “Do you want us to send the product tooling?” and called it a copy of the Flying Spur (now at Genesis, Hyundai’s nascent luxury brand, Donckerwolke’s latest designs resemble Bentleys). The production Continental is right on target. Based on a stretched Ford Fusion chassis, the Continental is appropriately long and elegant. It hides the Fusion’s front-wheel-drive origins well enough, with a low shoulder line and big hood and tail overhangs that are the traditional marks of a stately, rear-wheel-drive flagship sedan. The Continental doesn’t drip with chrome, yet there’s enough flash in the grille and side trim. Creases are kept to a minimum, it has a balanced mix of curves and edges, and even the taillights, connected by a thin band of LED lighting and chrome, stand out. But it’s the door handles. You’ll get compliments on the door handles, like I did from the McDonald’s drive-thru cashier. They’re not on the doors. These solid metal parts flow outward from the window strip like blown glass. Getting used to gripping the pad behind them to actuate the electric locks takes only a moment. Getting out of the car and realizing there’s no door handle at all—something I don’t particularly like, as interior door handles can be works of art—takes several tries. This kind of detail is what Lincoln needs.

Inside, the Continental’s blend of rectangles, a thin center console, sports-car-like seats that separate the cushions from the seatbacks, thin rear headrests, unique switchgear to distance it from lesser Fords, and a wealth of upscale color combinations are surprising. Unfortunately our test car’s interior was a black hole that didn’t show off these finer details, and to get the best treatment you’ll need the top Black Label trim. Some of the materials are third-class, like the grain patterns on the door and center-console rubber that looks cheap and plasticky. Dressed in brighter shades, the Continental delights.

Three V6 engines are available. The base 3.7-liter puts out 305 horsepower, a turbocharged 2.7-liter makes 335 horsepower, and our car’s 3.0-liter twin-turbo produces 400 horsepower and an equal helping of torque. Front-wheel drive (FWD) is standard, with all-wheel drive (AWD) optional on all trims (except if you order the twin-turbo engine, which comes only with AWD). A 6-speed automatic with paddle shifters is all that stands between your expectations of a $70,000 luxury car and the stark reality of a Ford transmission. Under medium to heavy load, the transmission feels out of sync with the throttle, delaying shifts and then surging. Around town it’s unobtrusive, and the Sport mode does a decent job applying early downshifts. But whether it’s the mechanicals or the programming, this gearbox drags the Continental down. Had Ford installed its new 10-speed (or ZF’s superb 8-speed), there’d be no complaint. Acceleration is otherwise impressive and robust, although it tapers off quickly at higher speeds. At 4,500-plus pounds, this sedan is no lightweight.

The three-way adaptive dampers are the Continental’s trophy, just as they are in top trims of the MKC crossover. In Comfort mode, they deliver a pillowy yet controlled ride. In Sport mode, they noticeably stiffen. The default is predictably in-between. At no point does the Continental drive like a sporty European sedan. It’s all about riding softly and straight, and the light steering reflects that mission. You’ll be dissuaded from any sprightly maneuvers by the Michelin Primacy tires, which prioritize low rolling resistance over grip. Body motion is always kept in check, and the Continental never feels nervous at higher speeds. For relaxing on long highways, the Continental is a true Lincoln.

Backseat passengers enjoy cavernous legroom and (with the $4,300 rear seat package) power-reclining cooled seats with music controls in the center armrest. Unlike most luxury cars that offer power rear seats, these actually fold flat to expand the trunk’s generous 16.7 cubic feet of cargo space. Nowhere, not anywhere, does the Continental feel cramped. The 30-way power front seats ($1,500) offer massage, heating and cooling, and separate thigh extensions—you know, in case one leg is longer than the other. It seems overkill, yet the more you play with the controls (most on the doors, some in the center touchscreen), you’ll appreciate the minute adjustments and know whenever someone’s messed with one.

Lincoln uses buttons and dials for the stereo and climate controls, a major relief after you’ve fiddled with Cadillac’s touch-sensitive dash. Lincoln had similar controls years ago and reverted after owners complained. The gear-selector buttons on the side of the touchscreen are yet another unnecessary burden on new car buyers, who apparently can’t be trusted to move a stick fore and aft as we’ve been doing for generations. They also take up valuable dash real estate that buries other functions, like the drive mode selector, within several submenus of the digital instrument panel. You must hunt to change the suspension, steering, and throttle settings, which is unacceptable and distracting. It’s also strange that a sunroof isn’t standard. You must spring for a $1,750 double moonroof or none at all. But overall, the Continental’s simple design, ample visibility, and living-room aura are on the mark.