First off, whereas every other review, bar none, praised the IS-F on the track, Jalopnik came away shaking their heads:
If it sounds like I wasn’t exactly smitten with the IS-F on the track, you have good ears. And I wasn’t alone. Wes was wandering around the paddock shaking his head no. The rest of us were trying to figure out the difference between third gear and fifth. Yeah, the IS-F did some things real well (straight line speed + stopping), but it just felt out of its element.
When they took the car out on the road, I was expecting to read about its ride harshness, setting up the review for an outright pan, but it turned out to be quite the opposite:
If my passenger, who squealed and hissed and yelped the entire time, is any indication, the IS-F is a Japanese joy-buzzer. Over the ensuing week I made passengers scream, holler, carsick, beg me to stop and howl with delight and glee. As for me, the driver, I was always in control, pushing it and pushing it harder and harder and never being let down. Not by the engine, the handling or the brakes. The transmission started to make sense and I’ve even got a callous on my middle finger from ripping the up-paddle. Lexus is practically doing handstands to convince you that the IS-F has legitimate track credentials. Why bother? No 3,774-pound sedan is a good track-day proposition. But, as a back-road carver, no sedan is better.
No sedan is better?! I suppose it’s possible to chalk this up to Jalopnik’s bombastic writing style, but that’s hardly faint praise.
*Update*: Silly me, didn’t realize there was going to be a third part to this review.