Nissan Elgrand (Gen 2), Mitsubishi Delica D:5 & Toyota Alphard (Gen 3) – Three Atrocious Yet Extremely Popular JDM Luxury Minivans

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– Posted on May 7, 2025

It’s been a busy couple of weeks chez T87, so my time and energy could only be focussed on a single post, but it’s been a long time coming. I’ve been mulling over it since I moved to Tokyo in 2020, in fact, when I found the place absolutely overrun with a form of car that is something of a JDM specialty – but is the very opposite of kei cars: large luxury minivans. Three particular ones immediately stood out as the ugliest of the bunch. A perfect counterpoint to the cramped and gorgeous ‘60s Italian coupés I’ve been foisting upon CC lately…

Minivans have had their day, in many (most?) markets. The concept is a little fuzzy, as we’ve discussed on these pages before, though it can be said that the fad really started in earnest in the ‘80s, reaching its apex by the turn of the Millennium. Since then, the SUV / CUV craze has taken over, and the minivan has lost ground almost everywhere. Except in Japan and a few other Asian markets, where it is still thriving like it’s 1999.

There were many Japanese minivans over the years. Toyota Estima/Previa, Nissan Serena, Mazda MPV, Honda Odyssey… Some are still around to this very day, as the minivan concept is still appealing to a certain segment of buyers. However, the Japanese perfected a sort of super-luxury variant of the full-size minivan that has become so ubiquitous over here that it has yet to be de-throned by the all-mighty SUV. So let’s take a closer look at a few examples of this particular JDM malady, focusing on three variants in particular.

The least offensive of the tragic trio we’re going to look at is unquestionably the Nissan Elgrand. The first generation Elgrand (1997-2002), which came under the Caravan / Homy nameplate, was innocuous enough (we’ll probably have a look at it in some detail at some point), but things went a bit weird with the second edition, also known as the E51.

I’m only talking about looks, of course. Underneath it all, this was a thoroughly conventional machine – front engine (either a 2.5 or a 3.5 litre V6), RWD, offering seating capacity for 7-8 people. “Elgrand” became the nameplate proper, retiring the historic Caravan / Homy appellations for good.

The rear end is just odd. It’s as if the designers couldn’t make up their mind about whether they wanted horizontal or vertical taillights, so they just went for both at the same time. Not a great solution.

The ugliest part of the vehicle has to be that front end, though. This will be generally true for all the minivans we’re going to look into today. In the Nissan’s case, that smooth yet blunt face, with those gawking headlights bisected by a fat grille bar is not quite horrid enough to merit my bitterest bile. But it is pretty bad.

The two-tiered grille was eliminated when the model was facelifted in 2004 – not necessarily improving things. These Elgrands were divvied up into six or seven trim levels (plus a dozen special editions), as per usual JDM practice, some of which were handled by Autech, Nissan’s special luxury division.

Some of these are over 20 years old now, but the whole idea was always to stuff as much gingerbread as possible inside. Even older Elgrands like this one are fairly impressive, from a passenger comfort point of view.

And at least, when you’re inside, you don’t have to look at the bloody thing. Given that these are getting on, quite a few are now on their third or more owner, so finding a few that have had a bit of decorative work done is not uncommon. This one was a tad over the top, though.

Slapping an Infiniti badge and a bunch of “sporty” aftermarket items on these pudgy contraptions is also part of the fun. Whatever floats your bloat (har har).

Super high-end variants like this one are now available for a fraction of the price, if you’re willing to be greeted by such an off-putting mug every time you want to go somewhere.

In August 2010, Nissan launched the E52 Elgrand, whose design I find a lot less egregious. Not that it’s a beauty, but compared to some (see below), it’s not the worst offender. This generation was also notable for switching to FWD, which makes more sense if the idea is to offer as much interior space as possible…

On to our second contender, the Mitsubishi Delica D:5. It’s a little less gingerbread-laden than the Nissan or the Toyota, and a bit more modest engine-wise: a 2-litre 4-cyl. is the base engine for 2WD models, but AWD cars get the 2.4 litre engine.

The Delica name has been part of the Mitsubishi range since the late ‘60s, though it initially designated a pickup / van (DELIvery CAr) in the strictest sense of the term. It’s a short hop from van to minivan though.

By the late Naughties, the Delica became something of a sub-brand for Mitsubishi. The name was slapped on a number of boxy vehicles of various sizes, rendering things more than a little confusing. Just like they had done with the Galant and the Lancer, Mitsubishi played fast and loose with model names. The van carried on for a bit, now a badge-engineered Mazda Bongo called Delica Cargo (top left), but it was now flanked by the small D:2 (top right), a Suzuki Solio in all but name, and the mid-sized D:3 (bottom right) – essentially a Nissan N200 Vanette. In 2020, a kei-sized Delica Mini (bottom left) also joined the fray. But we’re here to talk about the big boy, the star product that’s missing from this picture, the D:5.

Initially, i.e. in 2007, the D:5 looked like this. And that was actually not too bad. The concept was to offer a vehicle that could cover several niches, from basic van to luxury minivan, with AWD capability and a lot of trim options. But then came 2019, and Mitsubishi decided to dramatically alter the Delica D:5’s hitherto unremarkable face and turn it into…

… a complete neo-cubist nightmare.

The rhinoplasty was a thorough one. The rest of the car hardly changed at all, so much so that it’s almost impossible to tell if one is looking at a pre- or post-facelift D:5 from the back. But that hacked up nose is unmistakable in profile.

This is just another iteration of Mitsubishi’s present “design philosophy,” which they call Dynamic Shield. It’s about as dreadful as the Lexus pinched grille or the latest BMWs with their comical oversized kidneys. And given how tall the Delica D:5 is, this so called Dynamic Shield takes massive proportions here.

Inside, we’re not necessarily dealing with the cream of the crop here. This is Mitsubishi, after all. Well, there are swankier variants around, but this one has more of a mid-level trim feel.

It’s been over five years since this came out and I still recoil in horror when I see one. But at least there aren’t too many of them about – the numbers are still growing, don’t get me wrong, but you can still walk about Tokyo for a good while without being startled by the late model D:5. The same cannot be said, unfortunately, about the Toyota Alphard.

The first generation Alphard, launched in 2002, was completely innocuous. Just a big minivan, based on the (FWD) Estima platform, but with boxier styling and extra toys inside. In fact, compared to the Nissan Elgrand, these early Alphard looked pretty decent.

In 2008, the second gen Alphard took over, looking a bit busier, but still within the bounds of decency. A sister model dubbed Vellfire was added to the range, so that Toyota Netz dealerships could get in on the action. By this point, the Alphard/Vellfire has totally supplanted the Crown Estate as Toyota’s luxury long roof. In fact, apart from the Century, there aren’t many Toyota models that can top its price, if all the options are ticked.

But then, in 2015, the third generation dropped, possibly from some sort of spacecraft. And it completely took over. It has reached epidemic levels, I kid you not.

It’s beyond horrible. We’re now going to have to reach into a lexicon usually best suited to describe diseases or infestations. And Tokyo, in particular, is completely infested with these.

They prowl the pavement in clutches of three or four sometimes. Who owns these monstrosities? Businesses, for their CEOs – the room inside these is cavernous, much better as a mobile office (and occasional bedroom) than the traditional Crown or Century. Quite a few are also in taxi or private limousine service.

But there are so many that I’m sure a fair number have been bought by private individuals who actually like the look of them. And this is borne out by the fact that some have been lovingly accessorized with extra aftermarket plastichrome trinkets.

These Alphards (what a stupid name, on top of it all) deservedly belong at the top of the range – just look at that cabin. Of course, the best place to be is in the back, but they almost invariably have extremely dark tinted windows, so photographing that would have been tricky.

Engine-wise, these angry robots feature either a 2.5 or a 3.5 litre V6, much like the Elgrand. A majority of them are hybrids and AWD capability is on the options list, for some reason.

Third generation Alphards have had a fair amount of work done to their front ends, over the years. None of it pleasant. There are a gazillion trim levels on offer, all symbolized with obtuse letters like G, GF, S or X. Or there is the super-deluxe “Executive Lounge” level.

But these trim levels are usually not mentioned anywhere on the exterior, so one is none the wiser.

Both the front and the back have a distinctly Japanese flavour – pretty far from umami, but quite influenced, in my view, by giant animé robots of the ‘70s and ‘80s. The folks who designed these must have spent their formative years drawing Gundams and Grendizers instead of doing their kanji homework, and those overwrought, complex and pointy V-shapes and horns, themselves influenced by Edo era samourai armours, will have been seared into their brains.

It’s not like the side view is any better, to be honest. The massive flanks, the teeny-tiny wheels and that tired “floating roof” fad make the profile just as indigestible as the rest.

To add another complaint to this interminable lament, 99% or these things are either painted black or white. A few silver ones can be found, by you really have to look extremely hard to find something resembling a colour. It’s not impossible, as this one can attest, but we’re talking about a once-in-a-blue-Alphard event here.

And look, there’s even a red Vellfire. Oh joy. The Alphard / Vellfire is so ubiquitous, it has polluted a number of my past posts regularly. Some in the CCommunity have asked what those ugly boxes were, even. It just can’t be avoided.

In June 2023, the fourth generation was launched – sadly, things have not improved. A zany beltline is the distinguishing feature, but otherwise, the rest of the vehicle’s aesthetics are just a continuation of the 2015 design. And Toyota will likely produce these well into the ‘30s. These are now available in China, Malaysia, Thailand and several other markets, too. Misery loves company.

There is, of course, a Lexus version as well. But somehow, the original Toyota one remains the firm favourite.

Nissan were once leaders in this niche, but now it’s Toyota all the way. They do have the Serena, as well as the Quest, to go along with the Elgrand, but it’s clear who has taken top spot. Older Elgrands like this one are a dime a dozen, while the present-day one, in production since 2010, is downright geriatric.

For its part, the Mitsubishi is a bit smaller, but seems to be selling pretty well. For now.

Outside of the Tokyo bubble, these extremely expensive and almost invariably chauffeur-driven atrocities are much less common, fortunately. So if you escape to rural Japan, the likelihood of encountering these at every turn is much smaller. If anything will persuade yours truly to leave the Kanto Plain to live in the mountains, it’s the Toyota Alphard.