In fact, the new 9-3, which represents a $450 million investment and the largest factory expansion in 40 years for the Trollhättan-based auto-maker, has cleaned up its act in a lot of ways. Much has to do with Saab's early input in the design of the 9-3's Epsilon platform, to be shared with the upcoming Chevrolet Malibu, Pontiac Grand Am and Saturn L-Series.

Rather than being handed an existing pile of stampings and suspension bits and asked to make do, Saab's chassis engineers, headed by Ekkehard Schwartz, had a voice in integrating such baseline features as a 4-link independent rear suspension, a super-rigid hydroformed front subframe and lots of aluminum— in both cast and extruded forms— for suspension links and uprights.

Drive the new car and the differences pop out in bold relief. As a bonus to not having to arm-wrestle the driveline, the rack-and-pinion steering is light (yet not overassisted) and accurate, helped by relocation of the rack from the firewall to a much lower position on that subframe.

Where the old 9-3's twist-beam rear axle felt a bit like a hand truck towed along by the front wheels, the 4-link unit works enthusiastically with the front MacPherson struts to carve neat, clean arcs through corners. Under side loading, bushing deflection reduces rear toe-in, effectively offering some passive rear-steer. Heck, even the new cable shifter, with its crisp, well-delineated throws, lacks the toilet-plunger rubberiness of past Saabs.

If only we had such high praise for the body. Yes, the bold Saab grille leads the way and the high-set taillights evoke memories of past Saabs. Yet take these away and the new car could be mistaken for an Opel Calibra.

GM's wind tunnel has seen to it that the shape rustles as few air molecules as possible— the CD is whittled from 0.32 to 0.28— but where are the tall greenhouse, the true wraparound windshield, the odd proportions that have always made Saabs slightly goofy, yet memorable? In a bid for a larger wedge of the mainstream pie chart, this New Age Norseman even abandons that Holy Grail of Saabness, the hatchback body style.

Tipping the balance back toward positive is the 9-3's 2.0-liter 4-cylinder engine. Saab starts with GM's L850 "Global" steel-sleeved aluminum short block, and goes from there, crafting its own 16-valve twincam cylinder head, engine management and exhaust-turbo-intercooler-intake plumbing.

We were able to drive only the 175-bhp 2.0t version (the lowercase letter denoting less boost than the 210-bhp 2.0T), which is down 10 bhp from the old 9-3's base engine, yet has slightly more torque: 195 lb.-ft. versus 194, coming in at a low 2500 rpm. It feels strong and eager— we were never able to catch the Garrett turbo sleeping, even away from the light. There's simply even, uninterrupted power everywhere.

All-new manual transmissions, built in-house by Saab, align with the 9-3's trim levels: the Linear gets a 5-speed, while the Arc and top-line Vector get 6-speeds. And optional across the board is an Aisin-Warner-built 5-speed automatic. Dubbed Sentronic, it offers a sequential-shift mode actuated either by wheel-mounted buttons (Vector only) or the console lever.

There are Saab-isms aplenty inside: the ignition lock on the console, great supportive seats, a pleasing instrument panel/center console that wouldn't look out of place in a light plane. Top-line Vector models, along with the 210-bhp engine, 17-in. wheels and more firmly calibrated suspension, get nicely integrated pieces of silver-tone trim on the console, door panels and steering wheel.

Three levels of sound systems are available, as is a navigation system. Disappointments were few— though the new gauge package is quite clear and readable, I miss the colorful orange and red markings of the old car, particularly for the boost gauge. And the control stalks flexed a bit and felt insubstantial.