Previa Surpasses Minivan Tests
The Toyota Previa van simply cannot be evaluated through the norms of transverse intercooling and coefficients of inertia.
But dump a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich on its composite-material dash. Sun bake until the bread oozes goo. Remove from heat. A squirt of 409 on a paper towel returns the dash to pristine.
Now the Caramello Test. Drop one square of toffee-filled chocolate on a cloth seat. Sit on it. Drive to Oxnard and back. A quick dab of carpet cleaner and a brush with a Dustbuster and no ground-in glop remains.
Dog hair vacuums easily from the carpets. A Mobil Coffee Club mug fits the cup holder and spills not a drop unless a driver is dunking a doughnut on the fly. With rear seats removed, there is indeed flat space for 8x4-foot sheets of plywood.
And if the Previa’s interior was any larger, you could take in boarders or work a lease-back arrangement with Motel 6.
So by all essential benchmarks of people moving, the Toyota Previa is one of the spiffiest, easiest, most efficient forms of transporting family clusters since the Super Chief.
Toyota and Mazda, of course, have always made minivans where everything fits and doors are not Alcatraz surplus and value is high and attention has been paid to duplicating the ride of a car, not just approximating its ease and feel.
Unfortunately for the rest, Chrysler invented the minivan and nobody (not Ford with its Aerostar, not General Motors with its 1990 line of All-Purpose Vehicles) has been able to break that first-come, first-sold stranglehold. Despite a 7-year-old design and a certain truckiness of its product, Chrysler still supplies more than 95% of the domestic minivan market.
This suggests that by ignoring the Toyota Previa for their hauling and holiday needs, several hundred thousand Americans could be missing not only the boat, but the perfect minivan.
For in addition to a total dedication to the multiple purpose of any seven-passenger cube, Toyota (doubtless responding to the subliminal motivation experts at its Calty Design Research in Newport Beach) has engineered this vehicle for optimum fun.
The shape is classic jellybean with body colors suggestive of younger, lighter more summery things in life: Nautical Blue. Solar Yellow. Burgundy Pearl.
It drives light on its feet. Maneuvering is effortless and can be performed by anyone with a consciousness level just above an alert snooze. Toyota has built a relaxing and, better yet, a smooth and handsome minivan that performs like a utility vehicle without actually looking like one.
For this review, Toyota reached into a bunch of bananas and pulled out a yellow Previa. Contrasted by smoked-glass windows, black body frames and dark gray skirts, it looked like the pick of a school bus litter. Tennis players might be tempted to stencil Wilson 4 on the side.
Such rollick, mischief and ladybug charm is the essence of this lemon drop. For who said commuting downtown, delivering Little League draft choices and hauling cords of lumber, can’t provide fun while we’re at it?
Toyota has not been seduced into emulating GM’s radical shape of things by adding a long-snouted, aerospace flair to its van. A raked windshield and space shuttle bulges are there, of course, but they are more of a suggestion of the ‘90s than a shout from the next millennium.
Less glass means less hothouse effect inside the vehicle. Reducing the slope of the nose also cuts down on that feeling of piloting not a van, but a Chris-Craft.
Yet Buck Rogers has definitely touched the interior of the Previa, with its single, central housing for sound system and climate controls, cup holders and ashtray that bulge from the center of the dash like some robotic bosom.
There’s a glove box with a huge lid that flops open and is about the size of a Playmate cooler. Dials are analog and unobstructed by the tilt steering wheel. Headroom is higher than a Stetson and visibility is that of an aquarium.
Aesthetically it all fits. Ergonomically it is satisfying. But the fumble-fingered among us might develop difficulties with three control stalks (for wipers, cruise control and gear selection) situated below and to the right of the wheel.
Either the shifter is too long, or the wipers and cruise controls are too close to the shifter--or sometime in a previous life, Dr. Pavlov taught us that windshield wipers should be mounted someplace else.
Whatever. It is a dreadful embarrassment to presume gear selection and anticipate rapid movement from rest when the only lever you have operated has just energized the windshield wipers.
We also found that on the driver’s side, the front wheel well intrudes a little too far into the cabin. It creates a noticeable loss of fidget room normally allowed the driver’s left foot.
The Previa comes with bucket seats, benches, captain’s chairs or medleys thereof with the option of seating for seven. Removal of bench seats is a snap, literally. Captain’s chairs cannot be removed without wrenches, but buckets can be folded flat and stowed against the sides of the van to allow maximum cargo space.
Toyota likes to call its van “walk through.” Actually, it is more of a “crouch through” for anyone taller than 4 feet. But that term does draw attention to the accessibility of the Previa and the convenience of its floor.
Credit here goes to Toyota’s brilliance in deciding to tilt the van’s in-line four engine until it is mounted almost flat beneath the vehicle. That means no transmission hump or mid-engine bulge to segment the floor space.
It gets better. All mid-engined vans are notoriously inaccessible for even simple maintenance functions. The norm is five minutes spent dismantling most of the floor for the 15-second task of dipping the oil or peering at hydraulic levels.
But in the Previa, the examination and topping-up outlets for all vital functions (battery, oil, hydraulics, coolant) have been replumbed and carried to the opening front of the vehicle.
Toyota also has resolved that bete noire of the uniform warming and chilling of all passengers in a vehicle more than 15-feet long and almost 6 feet wide.
So standard on the Previa LE (prices of the four-model line starts with the Previa Deluxe at a basic $13,998 to a fully optioned All-Trac Deluxe costing $26,000) is a dual air conditioner that works as well for squires up front as it does for serfs in the tail-light section.
For fresh air fiends, the side windows tilt open. Dual moon roofs are another environmental option. Toyota goes Green.
Suspension is soft and body roll is noticeable but that’s just being a van and is the kind of ride required by suburban buyers.
The four-speed automatic transmission shows the silkiness always delivered by Toyota. The steering has been anesthetized against supplying any road information from the front wheels but, again, this is not a performance van. Fit and finish, of course, is superb.
The multivalve engine is 2.4 liters offering almost 140 horsepower. That, unfortunately, doesn’t produce too much dramatic movement from a vehicle weighing 3,580 pounds. Power is enough. But more than enough is needed in the flatlands to handle any serious towing of cargo and family into the mountains.
All in all, with its excess of composure and sense of cosmopolitan functionality, the Previa becomes the perfectly planned product by which to measure the rest of the class.
It’s also a friendly, extroverted little rascal.
In a lineup of people and vehicles departing a recent Hollywood party, it attracted almost as much attention as Denzel Washington and Elton John.
The Previa, in turn, fell deeply in love with Anjelica Huston.
1991 TOYOTA PREVIA LE
COST: Base $18,698 ($13,998 for entry-level Previa.)
As tested $24,447 (options included anti-lock braking system, dual moon roofs with spoiler, theft system, captain’s chairs, premium sound system with nine-speaker CD player.)
ENGINE: Four cylinder, 16-valves, 2.4 liters developing 138 horsepower.
TYPE: Rear-drive, mid-engine, four-door, 6-7 passenger minivan.
PERFORMANCE: 0-60 m.p.h. (with automatic) 12.3 seconds.
Top speed (manufacturer’s estimate with automatic) 107 m.p.h.
CURB WEIGHT: 3580 pounds.
THE GOOD: Styled for enjoyment.
Engineered for purpose.
Watch factory fit and finish.
THE BAD: Engine impatient for a turbocharger.
Intrusive front wheel wells.
THE UGLY: Can’t be found.
