Where do cinemas get their seats from? I only ask because I went to see Cold
Mountain the other night, which is by far and away the longest film ever
made. And while most of me enjoyed it very much, my backside has not had a
more miserable time since it was beaten by my housemaster who had caught my
mouth smoking.
As we were treated to yet another smouldering shot of Jude Law hacking his way
through the icy swamps of North Carolina, I could almost hear my cheeks
complaining: “Oh for God’s sake. Get on with it.”
At the end of the film most of the audience left the cinema in tears. Me too,
but mostly this was down to the pain. Honestly, it felt like my right
buttock had been filled with six or seven gallons of concrete and that the
left one had been sawn off.
So on the way home I decided to give it a treat and buy some home cinema
equipment. This, it turns out, is not as simple as you might imagine.
Obviously I like the idea of a plasma screen because they’re thin and you can
hang them on the wall and plasma sounds cool. But, said the man in the shop,
there are drawbacks; like you often lose lip-synch, which can make even the
most extravagant Hollywood blockbuster look like that old commercial for
Odor-Eaters.
Also, while you can watch normal television on a plasma, it’s best to avoid
any channel that shows its logo in the top right corner of the picture. A
constant, unchanging image like this, it seems, will cause the screen to
burn out.
No, really. Just look at the arrival and departure screens at Paddington
Station. Because the picture never really changes, in just a year or so the
screens have become all green and blurry, and as a result are just as
unintelligible as the announcements.
What’s more, while plasma prices have tumbled in recent months, the cost of a
decent-sized screen is still enormous. I mean £11,000. You could buy a car
for that. Not a very good one, I admit, but even so . . .
Much cheaper, and better, say the home cinema experts, to go for a projector
and a proper screen, such as you get in a cinema. But it seems there are
drawbacks here, too, like the room must be black-dark and you can’t watch
normal television on it, because in a game of rugby, for instance, each
player will be represented by just three pixels. This would make Jonny
Wilkinson indistinguishable from Jason Robinson. Actually, with just three
pixels it would make dear old Jonny indistinguishable from the ball.
The new buzzword in home cinema is LCD. The picture quality, I’m told, is
epic, but you must sit directly in front of the screen. And this steers me
towards the thrust of this morning’s missive. Technology: I think we’re
getting ahead of ourselves.
How can you put a television set on the market and expect people to buy it if
the damn thing can only be seen from one spot in the room? And why should I
spend £11,000 on a screen if I can’t watch Sky News or Five?
Just because something is new, that doesn’t make it better than something
which is old and tried and tested. And now we arrive at the question of air
suspension on cars. ()
It’s the latest thing and pretty well all the big new limos have it as
standard, which means of course that soon — sadly — it will be fitted to
Nissans and Fords.
I can see why it’s becoming so popular. As cars get heavier and heavier — and
most of today’s luxury cars weigh more than the moon — air is better than
steel for keeping them off the ground. And with air suspension it’s easy to
adjust the car’s ride height, so the front and back are always level. A
by-product of this is that the whole body can be raised for going down rough
tracks, then lowered for better fuel economy and greater stability on the
motorway.
Sounds great. But as is the way with everything new and technological, there
is a drawback. Like I have yet to drive an air-sprung car that can deal with
a pothole or a manhole cover at ordinary, urban speeds; say 20 or 30mph.
My Mercedes SL, for instance, will grip like you simply wouldn’t believe on
the bends, which is useful in the Yorkshire Dales or at Silverstone. But it
will actually hop sideways when it’s presented with a bump in Chipping
Norton High Street. Then there’s Jaguar. At speed the new XJ maintains the
company’s reputation for silky-smooth running, but drive down a normal town
centre street and you will feel every pebble, every butt end, every lump of
discarded chewing gum. And it’s the same story with the new Range Rover, and
even the new Bentley.
The problem is simple. When a conventional mechanical spring with a
conventional shock absorber encounters a bump in the road it is driven by
the laws of nature — the hand of God himself — and responds immediately. Air
would be just as good, but being a gas it has a nasty habit of escaping when
left to its own devices. So it has to be contained in a rubber ball and it’s
this which gets all confused when it encounters a bump. Let me put it this
way: a Pogo Stick is better than a Space Hopper.
But, because we’re engaged on a full-scale march into a bright new and rather
uncomfortable tomorrow, air suspension does bring some good cheer for those
of you who want an Audi A8.
In the past you wouldn’t have actually bought one because the ride comfort was
so poor. But now that nearly all big cars are similarly hopeless, there’s no
reason to shy away on that front any more.
A couple of weeks ago my colleague Andrew Frankel heaped lavish praise on the
new diesel version, saying it’s better than a Mercedes S-class, and for sure
the paraffin stove under the bonnet is quiet, refined, powerful and
astonishingly frugal. You should be able to go 800 miles between visits to
the pumps, and for that reason alone it’s probably a better bet than the
petrol alternatives.
There are other good things about this car. The interior lighting, for
instance, puts most vodka bars to shame, and the satellite navigation system
works better than anyone else’s. Plus there’s a colossal boot, loads of
space inside, extremely comfortable seats and a genuine sense of quality.
But it’s not all plain sailing. The steering is utterly lifeless, which means
you have to steer by sight rather than by the seat of your pants. And it’s
hard to do that in an A8 at night because of the headlights. On full beam
they are hugely bright, but dip them and it’s like they’ve gone out. This,
then, is not a fun car or a relaxing car to drive.
Yes, you can choose between comfort and dynamic settings for the suspension,
but both are horrid and neither prevents the car from twitching whenever you
run over a white line. That’s pathetic, really.
Nevertheless, the A8 is more attractive to behold than either the BMW 7-series
or the Lexus. And because it’s not a Mercedes, you don’t have to buy it from
a Mercedes dealership. It’ll break down less often than an S-class too. As a
result, it’s the one I’d buy.
The Jaguar XJR is a serious rival, but the diesel engine in the A8 swings it.
Yes, Jag’s supercharged V8 provides you with the power of the Hoover Dam and
the smoothness of Natalie Portman’s inner thigh, but 800 miles between
fill-ups . . . that, coupled with Audi’s undoubted coolness, is just too
tempting.
I’m not talking out of my bottom either. In fact my bottom wishes it to be
known that, given the choice, it would go for the BMW every time because it
has conventional suspension.
VITAL STATISTICS
Model: Audi A8 4.0 TDI
Engine type: V8 turbodiesel, 3936cc
Power: 271bhp @ 3750rpm
Torque: 479 lb ft @ 1800rpm
Transmission: Six-speed automatic, four-wheel drive
Suspension: (front) Double wishbones, air springs, anti-roll bar (rear)
multilink rear axle, air springs, anti-roll bar
Tyres: 245/45 WR18
Fuel: 29.4mpg (combined)
CO2: 265g/km
Top speed: 153mph
Acceleration: 0 to 62mph: 6.4sec
Price: £57,560
Verdict: The leading luxury saloon, but easier on the eye than the
bottom
