Colorado Car Guide: 2016 Mercedes-AMG G65 One Week Review

Mercedes-AMG is not historically known for rational decisions. If you’re looking for a perfect example of this deep-seated Affalterbach zaniness, consider the 2016 Mercedes-AMG G65. Mercedes decided it would be prudent to cram its stupendously powerful 6.0-liter twin-turbo V-12 under the hood of the oldest and most unwieldy vehicle in its lineup, and the result was something akin to chucking a cinderblock into the winds of a hurricane. We spent a week with the G65, and took a deep drink of what Mercedes-AMG engineers can do when let off the chain.

No matter which angle you approach it from, the G65 is a surreal vehicle. Visually, it’s the same tried-and-true mil-spec truck we have come to know and love for the past 37 years. Underneath, however, its teeming with Mercedes’ latest chassis, powertrain, and infotainment technology. Despite the incredible effort Mercedes put into modernizing the G-Class, the age bleeds through. Inside, it’s a wonderland of quilted leather, carbon fiber, and matte metals, but the controls are scattered around the cabin in a haphazard pattern. Everything is heavy, exposed, and deliberate; remotely unlock the truck, and the mechanical locks crack into place with the audible ferocity of a bullwhip.

This unpolished attitude is fine and dandy until you realize the V-12 Gelandewagen will send your accountant scurrying for the hills with a base price of $218,825. The G63? That’s a pittance, stickering in at a “reasonable” $140,825. Yes, the G65 is a brain-bending $78,000 more than the V-8 powered G63 AMG, a car the G65 looks identical to in every single way. Unless you direct passersby to the smallish “V12 Biturbo” badge on the front fenders, your $78,000 will go unnoticed.

From behind the wheel, though, there is no mistaking the 621-hp V-12 powerhouse under the slab-sided hood for anything other than Merc’s old M279 mill. This is an ancient dynamo, the starter motor spinning with an eldritch howl all V-12s are blessed with. Bury the throttle, and the G65 physically twists, the on-board systems declaring war against the rush of 738 lb-ft of torque.

Power from the single overhead cam builds high in the rev range and a guttural vibration echoes from the depths of the three locking differentials. Despite permanent four-wheel drive, it never advances with any sort of control. Mercedes claims the 6,000-pound G65 will hustle to 60 mph in a terrifying 5.2 seconds, just 0.1 seconds faster than the G63. Once 60 mph is dispatched, you quickly charge to supralegal three-digit speeds in a vehicle initially designed for toppling governments in desert states rather than charging down the Autobahn.

It isn’t until you slow down and cruise around town when the G65 begins to make sense. It’s a four-wheeled cube of excess, meant to one-up every SUV short of a Bentley Bentayga. Aside from the crude road manners, it’s a genuinely popular car, regardless of the under-hood displacement. I received more thumbs-up and had more pictures snapped of me than anything save a BMW i8 we drove earlier in the month. Onlookers waved, smiled, and pointed us out to their friends. On the highway, cars slowed down to get a better look. Had we stopped by a valet, the G65 would have certainly found its way to the front of the restaurant’s curb.

For bragging rights alone, it’s worth every penny. Sure, the V-8 G63 is substantially less expensive, but it doesn’t have the same presence, the same devil-may-care attitude as the V-12. Package this tremendous power with the G-Class’ rough-and-tumble build, and we’ll pass right by the pickup truck the next time we go glamping, and into the quilted seat of the G65. We’ll get there much faster.