Dynamically, the RX goes something like a smoother, quieter
Toyota Camry with slightly higher mass—or better, a
Lexus ES 350 sedan. The marketing department might not like the concept, but in practical terms the RX 350 is an ES station wagon, and that’s not a bad thing. Even without F-Sport, it can be engaging in a pleasant if not necessarily thrilling fashion.
F-Sport is a bit livelier. There’s a little less body roll without a stiff ride, though the ultimate boundaries of grip or speed do not increase substantially. The F-sport still understeers as it approaches the limit of tire adhesion. There doesn’t seem to be any difference in the quantity of torque the F-Sport shifts to its rear wheels, or the rate at which the shift occurs. There’s no torque vectoring in its differentials.
Is F-Sport worth the price? Depends on whether the ’15 premium of about $8,000 holds for 2016. Purely for the performance gain—and not accounting for appearance adjustments, sport seats or paddle shifts that are part of the package—it might not be.
Block out whatever visual excitement the styling creates, and the ’16 RX is basically what it’s always been: exciting mostly for its steady, annoyance-free behavior, or for the possibilities its multi-role capability suggests.