Car of the Year: Tesla Model 3

So far, about 450,000 people have each paid $1,000 to reserve a Model 3, with the waiting list for delivery stretching to over 18 months. Tesla literally can’t build this thing fast enough. So the question to be answered, the only one that really matters, is whether the Model 3’s biggest problem is that too many people want one. Because that’s a dilemma that hasn’t existed since maybe 1964, when a million people wanted the new Mustang. You know, that vaporware fad that’s only been around for a half-century now.

The demand makes sense. I try to reserve judgment on any car until I drive it, but the Model 3 sure looks good on paper. Tesla claims zero-to-60 times in the fivesecond range—unofficially, the first owners are getting into the fours. The car has doublewishbone front suspension and multilink rear, an elite sports-sedan setup. Later this year, Tesla will start building the dual-motor all-wheel-drive model but for now, the Model 3 rolls with a single rearmounted motor and rear-wheel drive, giving it a little bit of a rearward weight bias (53 percent with the standard battery). You know what else is rear-engine, rear-wheel drive? The Porsche 911. That’s fine company for a car that’s priced like a Buick LaCrosse.

Our test car is fitted with the bigger battery, a $9,000 option that increases range from 220 miles to 310. It also has a premium interior with power-adjust heated seats ($5,000), enhanced autopilot ($5,000), and red multicoat paint ($1,000), bringing the total to around $55,000. Which, yes, is a lot more than $35,000. For my money, I’d get the enhanced autopilot to ensure my participation in the self-driving future and skip the rest.

All Model 3s are built around an utterly spare interior. There’s a 15-inch touchscreen on the dash, two scroll wheels on the steering wheel, and that’s about it. Via the screen, you instruct the scroll wheels what to control—the mirrors, the steering wheel tilt, stereo volume—thus eliminating a scatter of dedicated buttons that you might use only once. That decision drives down cost, as well as weight, in the form of wiring. Even the key fob is rethought, in that there isn’t one: An app on your phone automatically locks and unlocks the car when you leave or approach. If your phone dies or you lend your Model 3 to a friend, a hotel-style proximity keycard unlocks and starts the car.

I put the stalk into drive, and head toward the highway. It’s strange to have no instrument panel dead ahead, but I’m already used to it. I engage autopilot, hit the turn signal, and let the Model 3 change lanes by itself a few times. The autonomy is reliable and pleasantly novel, but I learn that it’s more fun to do the driving myself, sandbagging in the middle lane and then mashing the throttle to revel in that gush of acceleration. With 271 horsepower, the Model 3 doesn’t quite rearrange your internal organs like a Model S, but it’s still ferocious. Leaving the onramp, I immediately get into a drag race with a frustrated day trader in a Mercedes S550, which the Tesla casually dusts until I back off and he goes screaming past. I take a moment to ponder what happened. I launched effortlessly, with instant torque and total traction, no gears to shift. The other guy had to spin the Benz’s V-8 up to its horsepower peak, probably beyond 5,000 rpm, at which point the transmission shifted gears, the revs dropped, and it all happened again. By the time that process repeated a few times, I was halfway to my exit. In a car that costs half as much.

No, the Model 3 isn’t perfect. I’d like a heads-up display, some way to put the speedometer in my line of sight. And there are some places where you can see the cost-cutting, like in the rear trunk, where there’s no trim panel up top, just bare metal and cutouts for the air vent that makes the lid easier to close.

But I think I could live with such compromises. In fact, I know I can, because when I get home, I do something that I’ve never done with any of the other thousands of cars I’ve tested: I put down a deposit. I pay my $1,000 and get in line. Maybe I’m number 450,001. Maybe I’m doing this because I enjoy supporting a guy who builds rockets and shoots cars into orbit. I don’t care. Because unlike almost everyone who’s reserved a Model 3, I’ve actually driven one. I know that it’ll be worth the wait. And while I wait, it makes me happy to think that sometime in 2019, I’ll have the Popular Mechanics Car of the Year in my driveway.