Since its first incarnation in 1985, the BMW M5 has been the answer to the question: “What if I want to go obscenely fast but still carry a laptop case, my family and a golden retriever?” And once again, BMW's engine alchemists have cooked up a machine that does all of that, and possibly shaves time off the Earth’s rotation while it’s at it.
Now, you may think you know the M5 – big, brutish and snarling. And you’d be right. But this latest generation, the G90? It’s very much like the previous M5 after it’s had a few months with a personal trainer.
It still has that 4.4-litre, twin-turbo V8 under the bonnet, obviously. That part hasn’t changed because, let’s face it, it was already perfect. But now, it’s paired with a plug-in hybrid system. The model has finally joined the electric revolution – and models like the Bentley Continental GT – by going hybrid-only.
Purists needn’t panic. This isn’t a hybrid that’s made for Uber rides – although there’s enough room for this to be the best Uber ride of your life. The hybrid means the M5 now has even more power – just shy of 730 horses of Bavarian thunder. That’s about as many as a Lamborghini Aventador SVJ.
It’s the kind of power that makes you question your life choices as you hurtle down the motorway. In many ways it is the perfect getaway car to keep idling outside a heist and the perfect cop car to engage in the high speed chase that ensues. Supercar performance hiding in plain sight. Undercover.
It’s quick. BMW claims 0–100 kph in only 3.5 seconds, but it feels quicker. Like it’s got something, or someone, it’s trying to run away from. Put my foot down and it doesn’t surge, it detonates. And yet, thanks to the all-wheel-drive system, it doesn’t spin its wheels or make a scene. It just grips and launches. What’s more astonishing is that it still manages to be civilised.
At low speeds, with everything dialled down, it’s as quiet and smooth as any sedan on the school run. But when I tell it to go full M, it becomes a fire-breathing warhorse with leather seats and a Bowers & Wilkins stereo. It’s Jekyll and Hyde with air conditioning and Apple CarPlay.
And let’s talk about that interior. BMW has really leaned into the whole techno-luxury spaceship vibe here. There’s a massive, curved display that stretches from behind the steering wheel halfway to Munich and more leather than an Italian handbag convention. I do have to say though, there is such a thing as too many screens and too many options. It can feel like you need a PhD to navigate the menus and unlock its various drive modes.
On the outside, it looks like an M5. Which is to say, like a 5 Series that has opinions on protein shakes. Not a club bouncer, mind you. More Jason Statham. Muscular, lean and vaguely menacing.
The ride is what you’d expect from a car trying to be both a business-class sedan and a track-day tyrant – surprisingly compliant when it needs to be, but with a flick of a switch, it becomes taut and alert. The adaptive dampers read the road, adjusting faster than you can say “that bump looked expensive”.
Some settings are not for the faint of heart. Five minutes into popping it into M2 mode, I said “you’re not man enough for this” out loud to myself. I later found out this is the track setting, and I am not built for track car performance.
Despite the occasional lunacy of the vehicle, the hybrid part isn’t just a gimmick. You can waft about in EV mode for short trips, going electric to get your drive-through coffee on the supermarket run. Not that you’ll do that, because you’ll want the engine to make angry noises all the time. But it’s there if you need it. Let’s say you’re heading home after midnight and want to be polite to the neighbours. You can make it hum gently for those last few metres.
Of course, none of this comes cheap. The M5 will cost you the equivalent of a studio apartment on Yas Island. But then again, flats in Yas Island don’t do 0–100 kph in 3.5 seconds. Or come with ventilated seats. Or make your heart race just by pressing the start button.
The verdict? The M series of cars carries the tagline “The Ultimate Driving Machine”, and it has been earning it for decades. The M5 remains absurd in the best possible way. It’s still the business-lunatic sedan we know and love – only now, it’s more powerful, more complicated, and, somehow, more sensible.
You could drive it to a board meeting or use it in a high-speed chase to catch international criminals escaping in a fleet of supercars. I didn’t do either of those things, but it definitely made me feel like the coolest person on the school run.
