The fourth and final generation Toyota Cressida was by no means an exciting car. Clean and innocuous-looking, it could be confused with just about any late-1980s Japanese sedan. Yet underneath its rather generic sheetmetal lies some interesting stories.
Launched in late-1988 as a 1989 model, the fourth generation Toyota Cressida was still, as always, an Americanized version of the Japanese Corona Mark II. In nearly every way, it was graceful evolution of its third generation 1985-1988 predecessor — a somewhat groundbreaking vehicle that in many ways was the Ur-Lexus LS.
While the fourth generation continued this practice, it was the third generation Cressida that successfully set the stage for said LS 400 by taking Toyota’s flagship model further upmarket in luxury, technology, and refinement.
Exterior styling of the third generation was little-changed in shape or form from its predecessor, retaining the second generation’s crisp, razor-sharp sheetmetal and most external dimensions. There were, however, important aerodynamic refinements, such as composite headlamps and flush side glass, plus mechanical upgrades such as a four-wheel independent suspension and a larger and more power to its 2.8-liter inline-6 shared with the Celica Supra.
The interior design was still more techy than opulent, but featured better materials such as faux-stitched dash, more comfortable seats, and greater sound insulation.
Numerous comfort and convenience features were added as well, including a pod housing redundant radio controls for easier driver access, including an available CD player and adaptive suspension with driver-adjustable damper control for a sportier or more comfortable ride.
Styling of the fourth generation, now sedan-only, was smoother and more fluid, with rounded corners versus its angular predecessor, but hardly anything dramatic or even noteworthy to stand out in its class. Somewhat more exciting was the fact that the fourth generation Cressida shared an even more considerable amount of its mechanics with the Toyota Supra sports car.
On a grand scale, the fourth generation Cressida firmly stuck to the formula of the third, bringing fourth little improvements here and there, but ones requiring a close look to recognize. Best put in the words of MotorWeek’s John Davis, the Cressida’s styling was “dignified but unexciting”.
Considering the massive gamble Toyota was taking with Lexus, it logically made sense to take an overly cautious and evolutionary path with the Cressida, for both its own sake and that of Lexus. In the event buyers didn’t take to Lexus, the more conservative and less expensive Cressida would likely retain its moderate yet loyal customer base who were attracted to its predecessor. Simply put, Toyota was keeping the Cressida as their backup in the event that Lexus found a lukewarm reception like the competing Infiniti.
The big guns were naturally saved for the 1990 LS 400, but that didn’t mean that numerous welcomed improvements were made to the 1989 Cressida. Most prominent, was its all-new standard 7M-GE 24-valve DOHC 3.0-liter inline-6, the same as in the Toyota Supra, albeit slightly detuned making 190 horsepower and 185 lb-ft torque. Still, those figures were up rather impressively from the 156 horsepower and 165 lb-ft torque of its predecessor, resulting in zero-to-sixty times of nearly 2 seconds quicker.
Worth noting is that Toyota advertised the smoothness and lack of vibration from the Cressida’s inline-6, much in the way it famously advertised the smoothness from the LS 400’s V8. The Chicago Tribune’s 1989 review of the Cressida tested this to similarly positive results, albeit with coins instead a somewhat more elegant and impressive tower of champagne coupes.
Handling was also improved, by way of a new double-wishbone rear suspension borrowed from the Supra, resulting in significantly improved cornering, with less body-roll and tendency to fishtail versus its predecessor. The Cressida was still by no means a sports sedan, yet it better walked the fine line between American luxury sedan and European sports sedan in this latest iteration.
Inside, the previous Cressida’s angular, modular dash was replaced by a sweeping, cockpit-like arch that was very reminiscent of the Toyota Supra. Controls were placed higher for better reach and view, retaining its predecessor’s redundant stereo controls mounted to the right of the steering wheel, though gaining a rather unusual slide-out panel for the climate controls. Wood trim, however, was nowhere to be found, reserved for the upcoming LS 400 and its dramatically minimalist dash.
Seats were still cushy yet supportive in either leather or velour, though thankfully they lost their embarrassingly Brougham-esque button-tufted treatment. Despite an increase in wheelbase, the Cressida was still rather small and narrow as far as flagship sedans went, with the EPA still classifying it as a compact sedan based on its interior volume.
Despite the fourth generation Toyota Cressida’s many little improvements, most went unnoticed in the face of the all-new Lexus LS 400, a car which despite its similar “supersized” Cressida-inspired looks, was a far more advanced and world-class flagship, capable of competing with the benchmark Mercedes-Benz S-Class.
Although costing 50-percent more than the Cressida, the larger Lexus LS 400 looked and felt like a truly special and unique automobile. Combined with its separate Lexus badge and dealers, the LS 400 was more than just a luxury car, it was a luxury experience.
If one wanted the Lexus dealership experience and Lexus’ enhanced status over Toyota for a lesser price, there was the the ES 250. A virtual clone of the V20 Camry’s JDM Vista/Camry Prominent hardtop relative, the Lexus ES 250 was sized and priced nearly identically to the Cressida, offered similar levels of amenities, and looked an awful lot like it too. While the ES 250 was front-wheel drive and lacked the Cressida’s extra power, its interior was visually more opulent, with healthy doses of genuine walnut trim.
The final nail in the coffin was the XV10 Camry, which debuted for 1992. Despite more plebeian roots, the XV10 Camry boasted larger interior and exterior dimensions, far more contemporary styling, plus comparable levels of available six-cylinder power, convenience, and luxury options. Costing far less even when fully optioned, the XV10 Camry dissolved any true last value propositions for the Cressida.
The Cressida was never a runaway sales success, but sold in decent numbers through this generation’s first 1989 model year. With the introduction of the Lexus LS 400 and ES 250, however, sales and general awareness of the Cressida plummeted until Toyota pulled the plug in 1992. By this point, there was simply little need for a luxury Toyota-branded flagship in most markets the Cressida had been sold in. The rear-wheel drive Lexus GS 300 (Toyota Aristo in some markets) and more family-oriented Toyota Avalon filled any gaps left by the Cressida, and as a result, few remember it today.
Photos by Will Jackson
Related Reading:
1986 Toyota Cressida (COAL)
Vintage Review: 1987 Toyota Cressida vs Acura Legend vs Nissan Maxima
As a minor point, the Lexus ES250 is probably most directly related to the JDM V20 Camry Prominent V-6 hardtop, not the Vista. The Vista was also available in the pillared hardtop body style, but the ES’s exterior sheet metal is closer to the Camry Prominent’s, and the Vista wasn’t available with a V-6. (For tax reasons, the JDM car had a 2-liter version of the VZ engine rather than the 2.5-liter 2VZ-FE used in the ES250 and U.S.-market Camry V-6.)
With cars like the Cressida, I feel like it’s potentially misleading to divorce the U.S. model from its JDM market equivalent. The X-platform cars were big sellers in Japan in this era – far more than in export markets, where they were a much less important part of Toyota’s lineup.
The Mark II/Chaser/Cresta triplets were in an interesting position in the Japanese lineup because they were prestige models, but not the flagship. I think Toyota tried to make them more modern and a bit more European-sporty than the Crown (hence the expensive multilink rear suspension and so forth) without completely alienating older, more conservative buyers who aspired to but couldn’t quite afford a Crown. (You can kind of see this in the significant stylistic difference between the X80 Mark II sedan and the pillared hardtop version — the latter wasn’t going to give Jaguar a run for its money as a style leader, but it’s not as frumpy as the sedan.)
Between having three versions for different dealer networks, sedan and hardtop body styles (and a wagon version of the X70), and a bazillion trim and engine choices (including a choice of twin-turbocharged or supercharged sixes!), Toyota had this segment locked up pretty solidly in the home market, which I’m sure was the first priority for the X70 and X80 platforms.
The Lexus project was quite a bit different insofar as it was about creating a European-style flagship that was not tied to the entrenched (and, for Toyota, generally lucrative) JDM market segments. It had a much clearer purpose in the U.S. market than the Cressida did, since the Cressida (and the U.S.-market Crowns of the ’70s) never got the kind of marketing push here that the Corolla, Corona, Camry, and Celica did. Toyota execs said outright in the early ’70s that that was intentional, since they recognized that they had a much stronger competitive position in smaller four-cylinder cars than in six-cylinder models that would rival domestic six-cylinder compacts.
I would love to better understand the product planning process that went into developing Lexus. While the flagship LS400 mission was very clear, I imagine there was a conundrum around the best approach for the “entry level” Lexus, and how that would align with Toyota-branded products. As a RWD offering with a sophisticated suspension, the Cressida could have been tweaked into a Lexus and been very consistent with the brand’s intent to blend European and American attributes.
Using the FWD Camry platform with fancy trim certainly took Lexus more down the road of a U.S. maker strategy of offering a dressed-up family car for a premium brand. In the long run, I think that decision, though it made for stellar sales results over the years (especially with the arrival of the RX), also consigned Lexus to “almost” status (like a modern-day Buick) and is a reason why the brand is rarely mentioned in the same breath as luxury brand leaders today.
The brand deserves better. I may be a little old fashioned, but have this quaint notion that an expensive, so-called high quality car should be super reliable,commensurate with it’s price and not empty it’s owners wallet the day the warranty runs out. I witnessed my parents wallets emptied by their Audi 5000, and when the LS 400 came out, I was gloating. I thought… game over for you … meaning euro brands. 3 decades later, those euro brands are still around, and I’m pissed off. They deserved to be put out of business by Lexus. I know if I’m buying in that price bracket, I won’t even look at another brand. Well, at least until they uglified the front with that Sabre tooth tiger look.
Why oh why did they do that?
But in my mind Lexus hit their mark precisely – the real target was to mop up the luxury field the American companies abandoned with the crap they rolled out starting in the late 70’s: luxurious, serene, reliable.
Having financed the expensive journeys of 5 different European brands over the years (although in their defense only 2 were new), I certainly get the allure of many of the European brands. But you have to go into that relationship knowing the price.
The original LS400 was a cannon-shot across the bow; MB and BMW had to reformat their game. The Q45 wasn’t too bad once they sorted out the nose in ‘94, but by then the golden moment had passed. It always surprised me how much Infiniti misjudged that launch.
Personally these days I wouldn’t mind an RX hybrid f sport in red. I just don’t have $60k lying around. But if I did….
It’s a good question.
One factor is that Lexus was not going after drivers who valued sporty-Germanic handling. As superb a car the LS400 was, its handing was a bit floaty in order to give it that superb ride. It was a deliberate trade-off. The European market LS had a firmer suspension.
I respected the LS, but would not have likely bought one for that reason, as liked to drive fast and hard. That was not in its brief.
So using FWD Camry platform cars for its lower-price level makes sense that way. And the other factor is that the Cressida was based on an old platform, which was at the end of its life even with the suspension and engine upgrades.
Of course Toyota continued to offer newer RWD MkIIs in Japan, so there could have been a line of RWD lesser Lexii sedans.
“Of course Toyota continued to offer newer RWD MkIIs in Japan, so there could have been a line of RWD lesser Lexii sedans.”
They did! Lexus GS300 is exactly that.
I’m quite aware of that. But it didn’t arrive until February 1993. I was referring to the initial launch of Lexus in 1989. It seems that a mid-range inline six model, like a re-skinned Cressida, might have helped establish that critical segment of the market earlier. It’s precisely the segment that Lexus has always been weakest in, as the GS was never a success.
And the fact that the GS’ styling had little relation to the LS and SE only added to that issue.
(I tried to leave this earlier, but it got eaten.)
I feel like as flawed as the ES250 was, it’s more defensible than the S140 GS300 insofar as the ES was clearly a stopgap and was replaced as quickly as feasible. The GS300 suggested a fair amount of careful deliberation that, at least in terms of the North American luxury market, was almost completely wrong-headed. (My recollection was that the Aristo was reasonably popular in the domestic market.)
In a lot of ways, the S140 Lexus GS was all the things people have unfairly accused the early LS of being: It was an existing upmarket JDM product — at that, an attempt to repackage the S140 Crown Majesta platform for younger Japanese yuppies who thought the Crown was for old people — pressed awkwardly into middle-child status in a North American luxury lineup to which it bore no particular resemblance, dumbed down (and stripped of its more interesting engines and technology) to avoid usurping LS sales, and visibly unsure what it wanted to be. Add the gloopy Giugiaro styling (which I’ve always found clumsy) and it kept Lexus from even second-tier status in the 5-Series/E-Class market for several more generations.
I agree with Paul that a Lexus version of the X90 Mark II/Chaser/Cresta would have made vastly more sense in terms of the U.S. lineup. By the time it was introduced, the Cressida was gone, so there would no longer have been confusion about how they lined up.
For a long time, I mistakenly believed that the ES250 was a badge engineered Cressida, just because they looked so similar.
I think the initial ES250 was almost entirely a price-driven decision. Toyota, as is well-known, did an enormous amount of market research in the development of the Lexus brand. As they were exploring the launch of the new dealer network, I am 99.8% certain that the Toyota sales execs and their prospective dealers (and consultants hired to develop same) had a conversation very much like this:
Potential dealer: This F1 [first-generation F10 LS400] looks impressive and I see the market for it, but I cannot keep a dealership afloat with only one product whose MSRP starts at $35,000. It’s just not possible.
Toyota sales exec: Okay, what if we add a cheaper companion model? That way, you would have something to offer buyers who don’t want to stretch that far in price, and it might help you upsell people who are undecided on the flagship.
Potential dealer: That would probably work, but the price would have to be right.
Toyota sales exec: How right?
Potential dealer: Base MSRP no more than about $20,000.
Toyota sales exec, wincing visibly: Uh, I’ll see what we can do.
The U.S.-market Cressida was not cheap — I think its MSRP in 1990 was about $25K. It was also a very nice car in its own right, with a bigger six-cylinder engine and lots of features, so a fair number of potential LS buyers would probably have talked themselves out of the LS400. “Well, yeah, the big car is nice, but this one is fine, and it’s cheaper, too.”
The dilemma was that Toyota spent a HUGE amount of money on the F1 project, and even Toyota wasn’t in a position to invest in two such massive undertakings at once. So, they had to use an existing platform, and to hit what I’m confident was the base price target range, their options were the V20 Camry/Vista, the T80 Corona/Carina, and the Z20 Soarer coupe. They considered the latter, which would have yielded something very much like the Infiniti M30 coupe (based on the JDM Nissan Leopard, a Soarer rival), but the Z20 had been launched in early 1986 and, like the Leopard, would have looked rather old by 1990.
Toyota also didn’t want to alienate their existing, very successful U.S. dealer base by pulling their high-profit models (e.g., by removing the Camry V-6 and/or Cressida to give those to Lexus).
We can argue, as many critics did in 1990, that the ES250 wasn’t an ideal answer, but the logic of it is pretty obvious, Toyota clearly recognized the issue, and they at least did a more comprehensive reskin of the U.S.-market Camry to replace the ES250 as soon as they could. The later ES300/Windom sold very well and was much better-reviewed, so from a commercial standpoint it worked out fine.
Toyota was an old hand at that kind of thing, since they’d had multiple dealer channels in Japan for going on 35 years, with very similar product planning strategy.
Also, part of the reason that Lexus was so successful at launch was that the marketing push for the LS400 was really strong. I think most of us remember some of their commercials and magazine ads. It was not in the brand’s marketing interests to try to do that with multiple models at once, which is part of the reason the ES250 seemed a bit of a damp squib. It was a perfectly nice car (although one could argue about whether it was worth spending extra over a Toyota-badged Camry XLE V-6), but it didn’t get anything like the advertising and marketing attention the LS did, which I think was wholly intentional. When the ES300 was launched for ’92, it got a much more aggressive marketing campaign, which paid off in sales.
Excuse me, not T80 but T180 Corona/Carina, a platform seen here on the fifth-generation Celica.
Aaron, this a brilliant theory and I would put money on it… Down to the last detail!
Agreed, and the realities of this senario very coincidentally fit with how the 1992 Camry ended up leapfrogging the previous generation as an overall product, and separating itself to the JDM Camry as a result. Lexus needed that standout junior model, so why not reverse the recipe from the 250, prioritize the Lexus, and let the Toyota bear the overall burden of development amortization thru sheer volume? It worked wonders. Toyota then had a JDM Windom that screamed “I’m a Lexus from America” minus the branding (marketing literally pointed this out), and Vista (?) dealers could sell the American Camry as the Scepter. Shrewd.
Toyota execs said outright in the early ’70s that that was intentional, since they recognized that they had a much stronger competitive position in smaller four-cylinder cars than in six-cylinder models that would rival domestic six-cylinder compacts.
That was clearly the case in the 70s and early 80s. But with the arrival of the new X70 Cressida in 1984, that changed significantly. This version was suddenly very desirable, at least in CA, as a very competitive alternative to a BMW (and such).
But that didn’t last, as its successor was not nearly as overtly sporty, at least in its looks and image. But during the X70s run, Toyota fielded a genuine BMW 5 Series alternative.
If I didn’t have a company car allowance that paid for the lease of my pricey ’86 W124 300E, a Cressida would have been very high on my list of cars then to buy with my own money.
The X70 and X80 were much stronger products than the early ’70s Mark II and Crown, but they were still a much less important part of Toyota’s U.S. marketing strategy. The Cressida wasn’t pointedly unadvertised like its predecessors had been in the U.S., but it was pretty clear that Toyota was going to use most of its VRA-limited import allotments for Corollas and Camrys. As I recall, the sales figures for the Cressida suggested a typical U.S. dealer was selling a few of them a year, a welcome occasional margin-sweetener rather than a bread-and-butter seller like the Camry.
For perspective, in the domestic market, the sales projections for the X70 cars at launch were 26,000 units a month (312,000 units a year). By the time the X80s were launched in 1988, Toyota projected combined sales of 37,000 units a month (444,000 units a year). Toyota’s sales projections for the X90 in 1992 were scaled back somewhat, but still totaled 27,000 units a month (324,000 units a year) for the three versions.
By comparison, I don’t think the U.S.-spec Cressida ever sold much more than 30,000 units a year and we were probably the best export market for it.
These Cressidas are one (OK, two) Toyota I would own with some enthusiasm. I am a sucker for a good inline 6 in a really durable car.
AUWM’s comment above makes sense. The Cressida was here because Toyota had it in Japan, so why not. But two cars designed with the US in mind hit the market below (92 Camry) and above (LS400) the Cressida, sort of making the Cressida irrelevant. Toyota then replaced it here with the Avalon to plug that gap in a more American way.
Looking at it this way, I can see the Cressida as one of the last “Classically Japanese” larger cars from Toyota.
Jim I almost bought a very well preserved, low mileage ’92 Cressida down in Beech Grove back when I lived in Little Flower, guy was asking $2500. I still owned my 2012 Civic at the time (in addition to my ’96 4Runner and wife’s ’12 Camry) and finally had to admit to myself that I needed another car in my single-car-width driveway like I needed a hole in the head. But man that was a good one that got away. Zero rust, in need of an A/C recharge and probably some baseline maintenance, but a perfect representative of peak durable Toyota (okay, maybe the 7M motors have a reputation for popping headgaskets).
There was also a station wagon version of the Cressida, at least in Canada. the 1985 & later wagons were instantly identifiable by their twin rear wipers. I’m not sure if the wagon was sold in the USA or not, though I do know the Datsun/Nissan Maxima wagon was in those years. Only the Maxima sedan was available in Canada then.
Yes, we in the US got the Cressida wagon as well, intriguing double wipers and all. Not quite as good as your triple-wiper MGs, of course. 😉
I am going to swim against the tide on this one: I think the final U.S. Cressida was actually very handsome and modern looking. Yes, it is quite conservative, but in the context of 1989, the smooth, subtle aero look was still fresh. I think the ’89 Maxima was also very good looking in a sportier way, and the two cars continued with their rivalry of conservative vs. sport, both being well-done and up-to-date for their intended missions. The Cressida just got overrun by Lexus, while the Maxima faced less of a threat from Infiniti, which stumbled out of the gate.
What do you think about the Cressida sedan vs. X80 Mark II/Chaser hardtop? (Visual reference: http://www.wald-licht.com/~oldcar/88_t_mark2_01.html)
The hardtop looks nice, and sportier than the sedan. How was it positioned in Japan? From the pictures it looks like it was just the roofline and styling details that were different between the sedans and hardtops–interiors seemed very similar.
What was the equivalent model from Nissan at the time?
The Nissan rival was the Laurel. There were some others that were at least arguably in this segment (the Honda Legend and Mazda Luce), but they were extremely marginal players. Notably, the Laurel in this period was available in an actual pillarless four-door hardtop body, whereas the X-platform hardtops were pillared.
I think the hardtop body styles were kind of the equivalent of Buick’s occasional forays into sporty models, like the old Wildcat Gran Sport or ’90s Regal GS. They were not wholly separate entities from the more sedate, conservative sedans, but were aimed at sportier private buyers (whereas a fair number of the sedans went to fleet customers).
As an interesting side note, the Mark II version of this platform was available as both a sedan and a pillared hardtop (and the wagon, which continued in its older form for quite a while), the Chaser (which was the flagship of the Auto channel that also sold the Sprinter) was only offered in pillared hardtop form, and the Cresta (which was the flagship of the Vista channel) was sold only as a sedan. The Cresta’s styling kind of tried to split the difference: http://www.wald-licht.com/~oldcar/88_t_cresta_01.html
Here’s a JDM brochure for the C33 Laurel hardtop, which was the contemporary rival of the 1988–92 X80 Mark II/Chaser: http://www.wald-licht.com/~oldcar/89_n_laurel_01.html
Very similar in size, price, and selection, including the option of a turbocharged 2-liter six. Nissan had a modest edge in technology with optional 4WS as well as ABS and electronically controlled shocks (“Sonar Suspension,” which we got as a Maxima GXE option for a while — marginally more sophisticated than Toyota’s “TEMS,” although a similar idea).
You can see that both cars were up against the edges of the 5-number size class, which had limits of 4.7 meters in length and 1.7 meters in width, so they were very nearly the same size.
Excellent write up sir. I will always celebrate any mention of the Cressida on CC. Dad inherited two Cressidas from his brothers around 2002: A grey/blue fully loaded 1986 and completely basic 1987 in white. The 1986 was my sisters first car, and even fifteen years after its heyday it was still an impressive vehicle. Super smooth, very quiet, good acceleration, and a fantastic interior. It surprised anyone who experienced it. Unlike the front wheel drive Toyota vehicles of the time, the Cressida really had a Germanic vibe that you saw and felt. I kinda wish we kept at least one of them, but I think they both developed issues that weren’t worth fixing, as they were both pushing about 200,000 miles when they were junked. I always thought the Avalon was a mediocre successor to the Cressida, at least until the current generation arrived. My neighbor just bought a 2019 and it is spectacular.
As for the fourth generation, I’ve never liked them all that much. They blended in with the Camry and their interiors were far less premium than its predecessor. I think they also got rid of the digital dash, which was sacrilege.
This generation of Cressida, and the later Mark IIs that entered my market as foreign used cars from Japan, found new life when drifting took off over here, with the stock engine replaced by the JDM twin-turbo mills. Very hard to find one that’s completely original now.
They’re very popular in my area for that reason also
I loved the ’86 my wife brought to our union…it had been her grandfathers, which is exactly how nowadays so many youngsters get their Avalons 🙂
But really, as Paul stated above, the Cressida was definitely a 5-series or even E-Class alternative and for sure a Volvo alternative. Maybe not at 10/10’s driving but for the 99% rest of the time and 99% of the people it was plenty spacious, plenty quick, quiet and refined and, perhaps most importantly, extremely reliable and well built.
It was also a definite step below the Lexus LS400 as that was more of an S-Class / 7-series competitor but also a “better” car than the ES250. So sort of an odd tweener.
We (the inlaws and I) did actually have a discussion about this many years ago, they also were trying to figure out the Cressida’s place and more or less correctly figured it was sort of a “proto-Lexus” in a similar vein to how one can nowadays buy an ES350 but others think the Avalon is a smarter purchase. (I don’t think you can go wrong with either)
I have a copy of an excellent book titled “The Lexus Story”. It was published by Lexus in 2004, the ISBN is 1-59591-001-8 and is over 200 pages of larger format images and text describing the idea, challenges, and the whole story of the cars in terms of concept, engineering, production, advertising, setting up the dealerships etc. I highly recommend it even though it’s probably a little bit one-sided, being published by Lexus although it isn’t all self-congratulatory, delving into recalls and issues that were found soon after the initial cars were delivered etc.
Mine is bound in black leather (or is it pleather?) and features a blacked out actual Lexus mounted to the front. It’s a nice looking book and a very enjoyable read if you are a fan of the brand or just interested in the story.
Sounds really interesting. Does it mention the penchant that first gen LS 400s had of the power steering reservoir springing a leak that ruined the alternator at about every 90,000 miles? Cuz mine did that. Great car, in any event.
Curiously I think they somehow glossed over that. 🙂 If I ever get one I will change the reservoir every 85k, it’s probably cheaper than the alternator. Then again they also don’t brag about how these seem to often go well over 300k miles and at least one has crossed the million mile mark recently.
I got my alternator rebuilt for around 80 bucks. Not bad at all.
Down Here We did get the Base Cressida from 1988-1995 with black bumpers 22RE and 5 speed manual as well as the luxury 6cyl version most basic cressidas are still on the road.
I’ve owned a few dozen Toyotas over the years but just 1 Cressida. It was an 82 in blue that looked like a smaller Rolls Royce. A one-owner car with very low miles. Like, 3,000 per year low. Literally to the store and back on weekends type of deal. The older woman selling it was so happy to hear my enthusiasm for the brand she knocked 50 bucks off the price without me even asking.
I buy the car, and really enjoy it (despite the autotragic tranny). It had some serious go-action if you put the pedal down, which I did. And then a belt blew. Fixed it. And then another belt blew. Fixed it. And then a hose blew. Fixed it. And then another hose blew on my way to a friend’s place for a party. Pulled over at Valley River Center to let it cool down and find some water. Read a magazine. Got about halfway home to Albertsons and stopped to let it cool down whilst browsing goodwill. Bought beer. Made the final push home down Irvington Road. Pushed it to 50 (in a 35) and figured I could coast the way home and put it in neutral. Noticed an 80’s Mitsubishi truck in a driveway poised to enter the road, waiting for a car coming my way. Noticed he hadn’t noticed me. BAM! Nothing I could do.
Paid $750 for the car, got a $1,300 check from his insurance. Win/win! Not long after that I bought a first-year LS 400. How suitable.
Did Toyota ever offer a ‘Troilus’ option on the Cressida?
No, but they did debate internally whether it was to be or not to be.
I thought the third generation Cressida was more uniquely styled than the last generation. To me, the last Cressida design always looked significantly inspired by the late 70s European Ford Granada. The Maxima’s design, even more so.
Great write-up, as always, Brendan. I’ve always felt the Gen3 Cressida was the pinnacle of their run in the North American market. That was when it competed with the mid-size Germans and Swedes and was somehow more cohesive than the Gen4. Despite being better on paper, the Gen 4 somehow diluted the Cressida’s character. In fact, I think 1990 was the point where the Maxima became the more desirable car (in SE form, anyway). That’s something I wouldn’t have said just a year or two earlier.
With regard to the ES250, that whole idea is just plain odd to me, even today. I totally understand the LS400 needed a running mate, but why that?! It was a shamelessly tarted-up Camry V6 with frameless windows; they weren’t fooling anyone. I’ll never understand how the Gen4 Cressida wouldn’t have been a better partner to the LS400. I do see how this may have hedged their bets, however, in the event the Lexus brand didn’t take off.
Afterward, I always considered the GS to be the most “Cressida-like” Toyota or Lexus in the North American market. I think to a degree that still holds true.
I owned a very nice one-family 87’ for about 4 years. Had always wanted one and a beauty popped up for sale in NJ. Black over burgandy. Was my daily driver for about 4 years, great highway car, smooth and plenty of torque. Many trips in it from Southern, CT to see my girlfriend in Manhatten. It leaked lots of oil from the cam housings but that was really the only issue I ever had. Got more compliments driving the Cressida than my Camaro SS. Had a doorman in Tribeca who loved it and I always tried to park it infront of his building. I bought a used 7M-GTE and W58 to swap in but it never materialized. Sold it to a young guy in Queens last year who is taking great care of it.
Always liked these. Had a high school classmate who was a huge Toyota fan. His family had one of these (1990 or so) and his first car was the first generation of FWD Celica. I wasn’t a Toyota fan but I loved both of the Toyotas he and his family had.
Interesting about this 4th gen being a smaller Mercedes and BM competitor, because it apparently had the goods. Local press comparisons of this with the Euros consistently put it ahead. (Let alone the locals: to the Aussies here, would you really buy a 3-spd NA Fairlane for the same price as this?!) It’s significant that they did, because they had the common motoring journo prejudice for Euro stuff at the time. Super smooth and quiet but with apparently very good dynamics, and a most decent turn of speed.
The conservative, older crowd who could afford these absolutely loved them. They were irritated when RWD Toyota sedans stopped with these in ’92, and so drove them to moonshot miles, where they still functioned perfectly. Unlike their owners by then, and in fact, it was often the owner who went first.
The conservative, older crowd who could afford these absolutely loved them. They were irritated when RWD Toyota sedans stopped with these in ’92, and so drove them to moonshot miles, where they still functioned perfectly. Unlike their owners by then, and in fact, it was often the owner who went first.
Exactly the same here. Here’s two neighbors that each had them, and they kept them for a very long time.
Update: for the first time ever, my image won’t load up. That’s never happened to me before.
I’m trying to remember whether my grandmother did, I think she had a 1988 Fairlane in between her 1980-ish one (with a 302) and a 1993-ish one. The 1988 NA model would have been a much poorer option than a Cressida IMO but I doubt she considered one. The 1993 was a much better car though, with everything improved over the 1988’s.
She later bought a Camry to replace the Fairlane in 2003-2004; ironically she said it wasn’t until the Camry had done several thousand km that it got better fuel economy than that Fairlane.
There’s interesting commentary on the early days of Lexus, and how it fit in with the Toyota brand from a dealer’s perspective, in, of all places, the final “Rabbit” novel by John Updike, “Rabbit at Rest” from 1990. The family of the lead character of this series of novels owns a Toyota dealership and recently added Lexus. I read the whole series many years ago and the introduction of Lexus to the plot caught me pleasantly off guard.