Pontiac — I’m old enough to remember the tin cans with roll-up windows that Hyundai displayed at the Detroit Auto Show in 2000. You’ve come a long way, baby.

The Hyundai Sonata has been one of the most stylish mainstream sedans in the U.S. market since its breakout, sixth-generation 2010 model — alongside the most stylish mainstream compact in the market, the Elantra. For the 2024 model year, Sonata has turned up the volume again. The 2019 model strutted down the runway with big front headlights and accompanying LED extensions that ran dramatically up the side of the hood.  For 2024, Sonata changes spectacles for a more sci-fi look — think Cyclops from the X-Men superhero movies.

The LEDs run horizontally across a big black grille anchored by twin flying buttresses. Almost lost in the design are the small, mid-mounted headlights that recede into the dark corners of the fascia. It’s quite a piece of work and a real departure, not only from the last-gen Sonata but from sedans in general with their anthropomorphic front ends. It’s the first time I’ve seen a car mimic the mid-fascia headlights of bigger, more upright vehicles like GM SUVs and pickups.

The visual drama continues rearward across deeply scalloped side sheet metal that sweeps to a lovely rear deck wrapped in horizontal, red LED taillamps. The rear facia, too, has been updated with hip light graphics that made a nice light show as I walked up to my upper-trim N-line tester after dark.

My N-line adds to that drama with a 100-horsepower steroid shot — a boost from the base SEL’s 190-horsepower turbo-4.

On slick roads leading south of Pontiac, I floored the throttle and the front wheels spun like tops trying to channel the extra grunt. Strange, the Sonata offers all-wheel drive on the base 190-horse model — but not the 290 horsepower N-line, where it’s really needed. Product planning ain’t easy.

Into the twisties I toggled SPORT mode on the console and the Sonata labored through S-turns — a B student compared to class leader Honda Accord and its tight chassis. Here, all-wheel drive would also help the Sonata, especially since the Accord has ditched its high-horsepower model — optioning only a turbo-4 and hybrid in order to meet onerous fuel economy rules.

The Sonata, on the other hand, gives you more choice with turbo-4, hybrid and my N-line on ‘roids. But without AWD, the N-line falls shy of its potential.

That’s not the case for the interior, which gets major upgrades to match that of some luxury vehicles. How premium? The dash looks like BMW 3-series with its twin 12-inch gauge and infotainment displays housed under one piece of curved glass that arches across the dashboard. It’s a Hyundai signature and is repeated on models from Elantra up to the luxurious Genesis GV60 electric model that I recently had in my driveway.

To step above the Sonata, the GV60 adds fancy bits like a floating console and shifter that rotates from a glass glob to a rotary shifter when you enter the vehicles. OK, these are pretty cool features. But my point is the Sonata does a nice imitation of a premium interior.

That premium feel is aided by a gear shifter that has been relocated to the steering column, opening up more console space for goodies like a wireless charger for your phone.

The wireless charging complements wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto — which will drain your phone battery over a long road trip. Hyundai offers its own navigation system, of course, but it is inferior to Google’s. For all of its physical panache, the Hyundai system is a little slow, lagging industry-best systems from Ford and Stellantis (speaking of which, looking forward to the next-gen Dodge sedans!).

Better is the Hyundai’s multiple gadgets that make the car more fun, taking advantage of the digital wizardry that we all love about our phones.

Two of my favorites:

—A configurable instrument display so that I could, for example, use a digital tachometer. Shifting at 6.5 (x 1,000 RPM) with the paddle shifters is kinda’ cool compared to a familiar round analog display.

—Customizable steering wheel button that can be programmed to, say, turn media on/off, or go into Quiet mode, or (in my case) use as a shortcut to driver assistance settings, which I like to play around with.

Digitization has also made column shifters much easier to use (I remember me mum’s wrestling match with her ‘60s Pontiac’s column shifter!). The Hyundai is as simple as turning a tab for DRIVE, NEUTRAL, REVERSE. Park? Just push the end of the stalk. Mercedes and Tesla made column shifters cool again, and the Hyundai is better for it.

Better than the average sedan is the Hyundai’s palatial front legroom at 46 inches, which will make tall drivers happy. That comes at a sacrifice of legroom behind the driver though — 34.8 inches — which is less than class competitors (the Accord is truck-like 40.8 inches). Nonetheless, I could still sit my 6’5” frame behind myself with no problem.

Cargo space is a generous 10 cubic feet and Hyundai adds helpful levers in the rear boot so you flatten the rear bench and pass long items through the cabin. In an SUV world, clever features like that make the sedan utilitarian — to go with its knockout looks.

Auto segments are funny these days with SUVs and EVs ascendant. EVs are considered a luxury item yet my gas-fired $37K Sonata N-line blows away a $60K, 248-mile-range Genesis GV60 with 509 miles of range. What’s more, the Hyundai won’t keep you waiting, filing up in one minute compared to one hour for the Genesis. What’s luxurious about being made to wait?

At $37k, the Sonata offers not only range, but practicality compared to the small, similarly priced two-door electric Fiat 500e. The Fiat may be a fashion statement, but the stylish Sonata will dart from 0-60 mph while carrying six-footers in the back seat.

Hyundai has come a long way with its tech-tastic Sonata, but it’s also kept its eye on the fundamentals.

2024 Hyundai Sonata

Vehicle type: Front-engine, front- and all-wheel-drive, five-passenger sedan

Price: $28,650 base, including $1,150 destination fee ($36,100 N Line as tested)

Powerplant: 2.5-liter inline-4 cylinder; 2.5-liter turbocharged, inline-4 cylinder; hybrid 2.0-liter inline 4-cylinder combined with electric motor

Transmission: Eight-speed automatic (SEL, N Line); 6-speed automatic (hybrid)

Power: 191 horsepower, 181 pound-feet torque (standard SEL); 290 horsepower, 311 pound-feet torque (N Line); 192 horsepower (hybrid)

Performance: 0-60 mph, 5.0 seconds (Car and Driver est.); top speed: 155 mph (est.)

Weight: 3,534 pounds (N Line as tested)

Fuel economy: EPA est. 25 city/36 highway/29 combined (SEL); 23 city/32 highway/27 combined (N Line); 44 city/51 highway/47 combined (hybrid)

Report card

Highs: Upscale style inside and out; drivetrain choices

Lows: Laggy screen; AWD with performance N Line model, please

Overall: 4 stars

Henry Payne is auto critic for The Detroit News. Find him at hpayne@detroitnews.com or Twitter @HenryEPayne

Waubaushene, Ontario — When I arrived at Quiet Waters Sailboats on Georgian Bay from Detroit, owner Rick and I met each other with exclamations.

“Man, you poor guys are paying $6 a gallon for premium gas!” I blurted.

“Man, that Jeep Grand Wagoneer is the biggest thing I’ve ever seen!” Rick said.

I had just filled up the Grand’s 30.5-gallon fuel tank (91 octane recommended) at a cost of $2.05 Canadian per liter — a total of $183 American. Ouch. But Jeep’s mega-ute was the perfect mule to deliver a Precision sailboat from Quiet Waters to a friend’s boat club in Charlevoix, Michigan.

The Jeep’s massive tanks and corresponding 610-mile range could complete the 447-mile trip across the top of remote Georgian Bay’s wilderness without stopping for gas. Its 9,450-pound towing capacity could easily shoulder the boat-and-trailer’s 1,350 pounds and high aerodynamic drag. And the Jeep’s palatial interior could easily swallow the boat’s accessories while comfortably hosting me (and passengers, if necessary) for 7.5 hours.

I opened the Grand Wagoneer’s automatic hatchback and dropped the third-row bench seat. Then Rick fed the 9.5-foot-long boom into the interior. And fed, and fed.

“Wow, we can get the entire boom through this thing with room to spare,” said Rick as the boom slithered between the second-row captain’s chairs, coming to rest on the back of the front center console. “I think we can get everything in the Jeep and nothing will be rattling around in the boat for your trip.”

Can’t say that about a pickup.

Pickups move the world, but even the longest-available eight-foot box on Rick’s Chevy Silverado pickup couldn’t fit the Precision’s boom without dropping the gate and sticking a red flag on it. Detroit automakers figured out years ago that they could take the rugged ladder-frame chassis of their trucks, bolt on a SUV top hat and offer customers pickup-like capabilities with the convenience of a sheltered cargo bay and three-row family comfort.

The Jeep Wagoneer and my (more luxurious) Grand Wagoneer tester were late arrivals to this universe, following hugely successful fleets of Chevy Tahoe/Suburbans, GMC Yukons, Ford Expeditions and Lincoln Navigators. Like its luxury peers from Lincoln and GMC Denali, Grand Wagoneer is posh, available in a long version, and can quickly eclipse 100 grand.

My $120K Jeep was loaded to the gunwales with the latest tech and features. That’s a lot of coin, but if the bank repossesses your house, you can just move into The Grand. Standard features include trip essentials like tow hook, adaptive cruise control, blind-spot assist and wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto. Google and I talked a lot.

Hey, Google, navigate to Waubaushene, Ontario.

Without missing a beat, or stumbling over my West Virginia accent, she mapped the way. If you’re a frequent road-tripper (guilty), I recommend the L for its added cargo room behind the roomy third row. The base all-wheel-drive Wagoneer L starts at $75K.

We loaded the boat’s outboard motor, sails and rudder into the back of the Grand — plus my suitcase, tennis bag and computer case with room to spare. So ginormous is the Jeep that I could have added my family of four and their luggage.

I was on my way — land yacht trailering sailboat.

As government regulations force the elimination of new gas vehicle sales in the next few years, I am mindful of electric vehicle limitations on tow journeys. Halfway up Georgian Bay I tried an experiment.

Hey, Google. Find a gas station.

In the middle of Canada’s remote, pine ‘n’ rock wilderness, Google found four nearby.

Hey, Google. Find an electric charging station.

The closest result? Petoskey, Michigan, 356 miles away. Oh. If I were driving my Tesla Model 3 (or a Cybertruck), I could have accessed three Tesla Superchargers on my route. But towing’s weight and aerodynamic challenges also favor gas vehicles.

The Grand was a tow champ.

Though I could have made the trip on one tank of fuel, I navigated to one of the nearby service stations in the harbor town of Pointe au Baril off Route 400 North. Like Michigan with Marathon stations, Ontario’s lake-side highways are peppered with big Esso drive-thru service stations to accommodate truck and boat trailers. Just my luck, I chose a Shell station that seemed to date from the 1950s.

My loooong boat and trailer took up all three pumps — an inconvenience that would have caused a riot at an EV station, where vehicles need to charge for long periods. My mule quickly topped up on 5 gallons of gas (another $30 drained from my wallet). I popped into the station for a washroom (Canadians call restrooms “washrooms”) and was on my way in minutes.

Remarkably, that five gallons would take me 75 miles — and the full tank 455 miles — at 15 mpg. That’s just a 21% degradation off the Grand’s EPA-advertised 19 mpg. When I towed a similar Precision boat to Charlevoix from Detroit with a Ford Explorer Wilderness, mileage degraded by 65% (to 9.5 mpg of its advertised 21 mpg range. The Ford Lightning EV, meanwhile, suffers 70% range degradation when towing (as tested by my friends at TFL Truck).

I was hardly soft-pedaling the Jeep’s 510-horsepower, twin-turbo inline-6 cylinder Hurricane engine while pulling the tall boat up Georgian Bay’s tall grades at 75 mph — keeping pace with Canadians who (like Americans back in the bad ol’ days of the 55-mph speed limit decree) ignore their 60 mph speed limit.

Indeed, with its 500 pound-feet of torque and independent rear air suspension, the Jeep didn’t feel like a truck-based vehicle at all. More like a luxury Merc cruising the Autobahn.

Which is what the Grand is meant to be. Forget the rugged Wrangler brand halo, this Jeep is on par with the world’s finest luxe-mobiles. With four screens of digital information up front (including a head-up display and a passenger screen), three more in the second row and a camera monitoring the cabin, I might have been living in a New York penthouse.

The center console even had a fridge — keeping my favorite Snapples cool for the journey. I crossed the majestic Mackinac Bridge and arrived in Charlevoix at 8 p.m. feeling refreshed. I unhitched the boat, unloaded the accessories and had a late dinner. Piece of cake.

Next time, maybe I’ll deliver a boat across Saskatchewan.

Next week: 2024 Hyundai Sonata

2023 Jeep Grand Wagoneer

Vehicle type: Front-engine, rear- and-four-wheel-drive, six- or seven-passenger SUV

Powerplant: 3.0-liter twin-turbocharged, inline-6 cylinder

Transmission: eight-speed automatic

Price: $93,945 base, including $2,000 destination fee ($121,350 as tested)

Power: 510 horsepower, 500 pound-feet torque

Performance: 0-60 mph, 4.7 seconds (Car and Driver); towing capacity: 9,450 pounds

Weight: 6,704 pounds (as tested)

Fuel economy: EPA est. 14 city/19 highway/16 combined (14.7 mpg observed on towing trip)

Report card

Highs: Luxe ride, luxe interior; impressive towing range

Lows: May not fit in your garage; few can afford

Overall: 4 stars

Henry Payne is auto critic for The Detroit News. Find him at hpayne@detroitnews.com or @HenryEPayne.

Rochester Hills — The Mazda CX-70 SUV is big. Big length at nearly 17 feet. Big weight of 4,863 pounds. Big 21-inch wheels. Big panoramic roof. Big as sibling CX-90 because CX-70 just means it has two rows compared to the 90’s three. Bigger than any other vehicle the Japanese brand has produced.

Yet CX-70 still thinks it’s a wee Miata sportscar.

Braking into a clover-leaf turn, the two-and-a-half-tonner rotated with minimal body roll. The big, leather-wrapped wheel in my hands felt rooted to the ground — encouraging me to feed more throttle until the tires began to squeal in protest. On exit, the silky, inline-6 engine roared with delight as I merged into traffic. Yup, it’s a Mazda.

Mazda’s latest ute has big ambitions to go with its big proportions. From its roots as a ZOOM ZOOM! sportscar and sedan company, Mazda has transitioned to a premium SUV maker with twin offerings in the compact and midsize segments, not unlike European luxury brands. The CX-5 and CX-50 anchor the high-volume compact segment while CX-70 and CX-90 double up in the midsize segment.

As with its offerings in the subcompact (CX-30), and compact car (Mazda3) segments, the CX-70 (as well as the three-row CX-90) offers one of the industry’s best values. Along with that Miata DNA in the handling department, the CX-70 comes loaded with standard features starting at $41,700: forward collision warning, automatic emergency braking, blind-spot and rear cross-traffic warning, lane-departure warning, lane-keeping assist, front-and-rear parking sensors, adaptive cruise control, and seat eject with parachute (kidding about that last one).

Jump up to my tester’s desirable Premium trim and you’ll be showered with goodies like 21-inch wheels, pano-roof and head-up display. Yet, the Premium CX-70’s bottom line is still an impressive $47,335 — $24K south of a comparably-equipped BMW X5 XDrive 40i with similar, longitudinal inline turbo-6, eight-speed tranny and rotary instrument screen controller.

Heck, all that style even clocks in at two grand less than the hybrid Toyota Crown Signia I recently piloted with a droning CVT transmission and no head-up display.

CX-70 buyers will be flattered by the Bimmer comparison — especially the way the Mazda hangs with the German in the twisties despite being a half-foot longer. The Mazda’s bigness translates to some of the best cargo and legroom numbers in class. Value does come with some shortcomings, however.

I’ve raved about the Japanese brand’s smooth six-speed automatic trannies in the CX-5 and CX-50 models at a time when other automakers have adopted complicated eight- and 10-speed boxes for their EPA-focused mpg benefits. For CX-70/CX-90, Mazda has chosen an eight-speed and the SUVs feel hesitant — like a fawn trying out its new legs.

Floor the pedal off that highway cloverleaf and CX-70 felt uncertain, hunting for the right gear. Once engaged, the inline-6 clears its throat with an authoritative BLAAAT! (especially in SPORT mode), but the transmission is a mismatch for the I-6’s smooth power.

So is the clunky shifter. A trendy monostable design, it’s clumsy to operate with a two-step jig to get out of PARK and into REVRSE-NEUTRAL-DRIVE modes. Competitors like Toyota and VW not only have more compact shifters, but they are more intuitive. ZOOM ZOOM? ZOOM CLUNK.

BMW and Audi pioneered the remote rotary controller, and Mazda covets that luxury vibe. But Audi has abandoned the rotary to appeal to the smartphone, touchscreen generation and BMW — while maintaining its i-Drive controller — has complemented it with redundant touchscreen capability. Not Mazda.

It has stubbornly stuck with its wonky rotary. Mazda owners (my son, for example, who owns a Mazda3) learn it, but shiver when it comes to sharing the car with a spouse who must adapt to the system’s quirks.

CX-70 at least enables touchscreen commands for Apple CarPlay and Android Auto smartphone apps — a welcome nod to popular consumer tastes. But my tester still dated itself by requiring a tether for Android Auto, rather than the wireless systems of competitors.

Also wonky is the butterfly center console. I know, I know, butterfly telegraphs luxury, but in a family vehicle like CX-70, I value ease-of-access, and there’s nothing like a good ol’ pull-top console — especially when you need to attach that Android Auto USB-C wire to your phone.

It’s hard to be mad, though, when all this hardware is wrapped in Mazda’s elegant red-leather interior. Shared by subcompact siblings CX-30 and Mazda3 hatchback, this lush cabin style is one of my favorites in the industry. Mazda offers other colors, but I find rouge leather to be irr-red-sistible.

Like learning that Schwarzenegger and DeVito are brothers in the movie “Twins,” I’m not used to a Mazda having such big back seats. CX-70 siblings Mazda3 and CX-30 are cramped and the Miata, of course, has no back seat at all. But I could sit behind myself in the CX-70 with kneeroom to spare. Cargo capacity is a healthy 39.6 cubic feet with the back seat raised, and a palatial 75.3 with the seats down.

The CX-70 complements that with sub-cargo storage where the third row would otherwise be in the CX-90. Were it up to me, I’d opt for the CX-90 instead of the CX-70 (they are priced the same) because the third row comes in handy when you need to ferry people as in, say, my extended family of in-laws.

CX-70’s sub-storage is accessed via a clever, folding cargo mat, and is the right size for, say, kids’ muddy soccer shoes. But it’s still a stretch to reach from the back bumper and may go unused over the lifetime of the vehicle.

As much as I enjoy carving corners in Mazdas, midsize SUVs will ultimately be driven for long periods of time. On adaptive cruise control. On interstates. For such bus-driver chores, the Mazda is first-rate like another one of my class favorites, the Hyundai Santa Fe.

Hyundai offers multiple ways to check your blind spot and so does Mazda — from mirror-embedded triangle lights to instrument control graphics to graphics in the head-up display. I toggled driver-assist on the steering wheel and the Mazda dutifully centered in lane, even hugging long interstate corners hands-free. If Mazda still has work to do on its eight-speed tranny, the attention to digital details is welcome.

My favorite detail? A DRIVER PERSONALIZATION SYSTEM that measures height (I’m 6-foot-5, Mrs. Payne is 5-foot-5) then automatically adopts that setting depending on which of us is in the driver’s seat.

Oh, now that’s big.

Next week: Towing across Canada with the Jeep Grand Wagoneer

2025 Mazda CX-70

Vehicle type: Front engine, all-wheel-drive, five-passenger SUV

Price: $41,700, including $1,375 destination ($47,335 Turbo S Premium as tested)

Powerplant: Turbocharged 3.3-liter, inline-6 cylinder; 2.5-liter inline-4 cylinder mated to 17.8 kWh lithium ion battery and rear electric motor

Power: 280 horsepower, 332 pound-feet of torque (turbo-6); 340 horsepower, 369 pound-feet of torque (turbo-6 S); 323 horsepower, 369 pound-feet of torque (plug-in)

Transmission: Eight-speed automatic

Performance: 0-60 mph, 6.5 seconds (Turbo-6 S, mfr.); towing, 5,000 pounds (I-6), 3,500 pounds (plug-in)

Weight: 4,863 pounds (Turbo-6 S as tested)

Fuel economy: EPA 23 mpg city/28 highway/25 combined (as tested)

Report card

Highs: Big, family-size proportions; loaded with value, standard goodies

Lows: Quirky shifter, rotary controller

Overall: 4 stars

Henry Payne is auto critic for The Detroit News. Find him at hpayne@detroitnews.com or @HenryEPayne.