A large executive sedan has to do two things. It has to be comfortable, and it has to be comfortable competing for road space with the ubiquitous SUV. At R1.8-million for the ES90 Ultra I drove, the stakes are higher still, because it also has to justify the asking price.

It does.

The ES90 is, subjectively, a brilliant car: a driver’s machine, supremely capable, beautifully executed and borderline flawless. There is very little I would change or found to be wanting. Volvo has brought it to this car, and it is a smash hit.

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Climb in and the scene around you is one of serenity and calm. The interior is not starkly minimalist, nor is it gaudily festooned with bright colour contrasts and the look of a jet fighter’s cockpit. There is a somewhat blingy silver centre-mounted Bowers & Wilkins tweeter in the middle of the dash that catches the eye – more on that later.

There is a large tablet-style screen in the centre and a small digital driver’s display that is not obscured by the sturdy steering wheel. That is your first clue, subtle as it is, to what lies ahead. Understated but correct is the undercurrent driving everything in this car, with one notable exception.

“Busy” is not a word I would associate with this interior. Elegant, beautiful and functional do not quite convey the deftness the car brings either. The more you look, the more you find, and the more you appreciate the rightness the ES90 brings to the driving experience.

To achieve that look, most controls have shifted to the touchscreen. This has been known to drive me mental with incoherent rage. On occasion, spittle has flown while I have shouted obscenities at some lumpen object of technological backwardness dressed up as a feature. It gets bad. Sometimes people wind down their windows to ask whether I am having a seizure.

Not here. Everything on screen works exactly as it should, and nothing gets in the way of doing what I want to do when I want to do it. I did not use the voice command system, because I never needed it.

World class

Fittings and finishes are world class, even if I am not entirely sure what all of them are. Volvo is heavy into recycling, so I would not be surprised to find its famous recycled denim somewhere in there. Worry not: if it is, it will look and feel as good as everything else.

There is reassuring solidity everywhere. From the heavy doors to every knob and touch point, the ES90 is in the class that defines longevity. You get the sense that if you came back to this car in 20 years’ time you would still find no rattles – and that it would still feel tasteful and luxurious. That is true luxury: durable beauty that works and stands the test of time. Making things this way takes time, effort and energy, and it is never cheap.

Rear passengers almost come off best, with heated and ventilated seats, climate control on both sides and so much room it is borderline ludicrous – words I have used before about some Chinese vehicles that place a premium on rear-seat space. Seating four, or five at a push, the ES90 makes getting out of the back a VIP experience. A chauffeur is not out of the question.

The boot is large. There is no spare wheel, which is a minor irritation, but the tyres will take a hammering: big 21-inch rubber, 275/40 at the rear and 245/45 at the front, a sensible choice for comfort and for absorbing the godawful pitiful pits of tar we used to call roads in Johannesburg.

Presence ... the Volvo ES90 — Presence … the Volvo ES90

The powered boot closes with a touch, and there is a roll-up parcel shelf that clicks into place on the tailgate. Even the speed at which that cover rolls up has been considered – measured and steady, without snapping back at a pace that would cause offence. Keyless entry and exit is excellent, and the little fob recharges inside the car on the same wireless pad you use for your phone.

Then you drive it

I was expecting a road marshmallow. Slick, smooth, wallowy wafting with appalling road manners, gliding over everything on a cloud of disdainful snootiness, lest we upset the poised teacup from which we sip as we meander elegantly to wherever we are going.

No. That is not what happens. Not even vaguely.

What happens is that a great deal of power is unleashed, shoving this 245kW, 2.4t machine forward at thoroughly ungentlemanly speeds. Volvo claims 0-100km/h in 6.6s, and it feels quicker than that, thanks to 480Nm and the momentum that follows. It is, frankly, superb.

Volvo has somehow made the ES90 a proper driver’s car. Air suspension, rear-wheel drive and plenty of grunt, yes – but also an agile chassis and steering that tells you what the wheels are doing, where the grip is and how the car is behaving at any moment.

The 2.4 tons do not disappear. But the centre of gravity is low, the tyres are grippy and the balance is spot on. The result is a return to the most brilliant all-rounder of them all: the fast saloon. It stays flat, it is entirely predictable and it remains ludicrously comfortable all the time.

The ES90 is the most compelling argument against buying an SUV I have yet encountered. It even has an off-road mode. I did not have time to test it, but I would wager it copes with everything short of the conditions where an SUV is genuinely needed – and I can count on one finger the number of times I have needed one.

Volvo’s DNA

Bad road surfaces are simply dealt with. No fuss, no protest. As a daily it is brilliant, and on the open road it is quieter still. You can cover long distances in this car effortlessly, because it is as much a grand tourer as an urban equaliser.

Safety is in Volvo’s DNA, and a good drive is easily ruined by overzealous systems determined to remind you what a fine job they are doing. Move your head a millimetre, blink too slowly, gesture animatedly at a fellow motorist in need of upliftment, and you are bonged and beeped at like a common criminal. Deviate from what the system believes is your lane, based on what is left of 20-year-old road paint, and God help you. If some cars could put 10 000V through the seats, I suspect they would.

Not the ES90. It carries every safety system ever invented, but it errs on the side of caution only in reverse and around pedestrians. Otherwise the car is yours – go ahead and drive it. That is not to say it is not paying attention. It knows what is happening around you at all times; it simply knows when the information matters. If it does bong at you, through speakers in the headrests, take it seriously, because it does not do so frivolously.

As far as safety goes, the ES90 is my new gold standard. And, blessed be their tribe, I never had to reset a single system every time I got in.

The interior, seen here in left-hand drive variant, is flawless

Now the notable exception to the interior restraint: the bling of the Bowers & Wilkins system.

I am a sound person. I regularly evaluate car audio built by the best in the business in sound quality testing, and South Africa has genuinely world-class cars competing globally. In the ES90 I would leave the B&W system exactly as it is. Replacing it with something better would cost hundreds of thousands of rand, and I am not certain the result would not be a step backwards. This is, hands down, the best factory-fitted system I have heard, beating the McIntosh in the Jeep Grand Cherokee and the Naim in the Bentley Continental. It scored 152.5 out of 225 on our standalone MAX evaluation, which for a car is deeply impressive.

If I may geek out briefly: you can stream music using native apps in the ES90, because the operating system is Android. That means installing apps directly into the car rather than using your phone as a bridge, and the quality is far better than Bluetooth. If you get the chance to play with the Abbey Road Studio feature, do. It is worth the effort.

What is wrong with it?

Not the headlights. The best I have used are on the Lexus LS, which could illuminate the dark side of the moon, but these are close – and they are always doing the right thing. Split high beams anti-dazzle oncoming traffic automatically while the road ahead stays lit like daylight.

The actual list: I want massage seats for R1.8-million. There is no number two.

So, is the ES90 flawless? No. But it is close, and the rest comes down to taste. Perhaps you want more bling and disco lights bouncing in time with your music. And yes, the price tag is enormous. But this is an enormously good car, and even at the money I think it represents superb value. Compare it with the alternatives at this price and you may get a shock.

That is not just because it is fully electric, with a 92kWh battery, a range of over 500km, an eight-year battery warranty and 30 000km service intervals during which they will, erm, top up the washer fluid and perhaps change a wiper blade. Running costs are much lower.

In truth, the electric powertrain is icing on an already excellent cake, and – the way it delivers power aside – a bonus. In a market where electric sales remain flat while hybrids surge, what sells the ES90 is not the battery. It is how understatedly excellent the car is on the road: impeccable manners, impudent speed and driver-focused handling, with a cabin that balances tasteful refinement against a feature-rich experience.

Best of all, when you get out of it, you have not merely got to where you were going.