20 May 2026

Lexus just made the king of people-movers - but who's going to buy it?

20 May 2026 | By James Coleman

Luxury has never been bigger. Or more cheese-grater-like. Photo: James Coleman.

Seats that warm and fan your bottom are all well and good. But the rear seats in this Lexus also come with heated armrests.

A small table-top folds out of one, like you’re in business class, and a cupholder out of the other.

The seats also massage you quite firmly, as if a masseuse were embedded in the upholstery.

And all of this – along with the air-conditioning and ambient lighting – can be controlled at your fingertips in the form of a small tablet they call ‘Lexus Concierge’.

In short, you’re not going to waste all this by strapping a kiddie seat on top.

Photos: James Coleman.

And even when they’re older, children are still too gross to let loose on the plush leather and thick-pile carpet. Think of the shoe buckles and melted gummy bears.

So, as far as I can make out, the Lexus LM is not really destined to become a family car. It has one job in life: ferry air hostesses from the Qantas gate to the Novotel.

Or – if you pay $220,888 for the top-spec Ultra Luxury model, which makes up for the fact that it only has four seats with a massive screen behind the front seats – limousine companies.

Relevant to the rest of us? Actually, very. Bear in mind that many of the features you enjoy in your modern Toyota started life in an older Lexus. Today’s LM could be the blueprint for the HiAce of the future.

And bring on the 2036 HiAce.

What is it?

Up to now, the Lexus LM’s equivalent has been the Toyota Alphard. While it’s never been sold in Australia in any official capacity, thousands of Alphards have arrived here over the years as grey imports.

The LM comes with the same luxury focus, the same 2.5-litre petrol hybrid in my ‘base’ $160,888 Sports Luxury model, and – if you took the badges away, almost the same styling. If we can call it styling. Honestly, they’ve done very well with what is effectively a big box.

Besides, you don’t care that it looks like a cheese-grater on the outside, because you’re inside – living the highest of high lives.

Where it’s really at – in the back seats. Photo: James Coleman.

What’s it like to live with?

There’s clearly a lot of weight – 2305 kg of it, in fact (about the same as a Tesla Y if you’re keeping score) – and very high up, which brings some wobbly handling. Exiting the driveway at work nearly had me belting out sea shanties.

But shifting to the special ‘rear-seat comfort’ mode makes a marked improvement here, by stiffening the suspension and dulling the accelerator. Even with the rear seats empty, I spent most of my work with the LM pretending I was ferrying a diplomat to a country I quite like. Or a diplomat with a gun from a country I don’t.

At this, the LM is brilliant. It soars over the road exactly like the Learjet it’s trying to be.

Photos: James Coleman.

Graceful is the wrong word to describe it, though. Effortless, probably is too, because without the turbocharged four-cylinder of the higher LM 500h model, the engine does roar a bit under the pump. Nor are you buying it for the fuel economy – I was averaging over 9 litres per 100 km. ‘Silky’ about does it.

I love how everything is considered too much effort.

There are switches to control the roof and window shades and ambient lighting along a wood veneer spine that runs the length of the roof, but because that involves stretching out of your seat, Lexus has given you that ‘concierge’ tablet. You also wouldn’t want to interrupt your massage.

Mentioning space would be like bringing up national debt in a federal budget talk – it’s obvious there is heaps, even in the rear-most three seats.

However, there were a few let-downs.

The Mark Levinson sound system was very average – to the point my uncle, who recently picked up a lightly bashed Holden Cruze with a failed clutch for $100, said his was better.

I did try to investigate if something more was going on by delving into the touchscreen, but for a car as superfluously equipped as this, there was surprisingly little in there. I could adjust the base and treble, obviously, and alternate between 2D and 3D, but that was about it.

I’d say the screen is probably the place where the paint chips away the most to reveal humble Toyota origins.

This also pissed me off greatly, to the point it can get its own mention: the electronic boot takes an age to open. Like, you could fit the entire rule of the dinosaurs in there.

Photos: James Coleman.

The verdict

If I had $200,000 burning a hole in my pocket, there are many cars that would have my undivided attention before this one. Unless, of course, I was in the limousine business.

But if you want luxury as big as you can get it, the Lexus makes huge sense.

As is often the point made with Lexus, it has a place in the market all on its own. There’s a reason there’s not a mass market for second-hand European exotics – the entry price needs to be low so you can break even on all the parts you’ll have to replace. This one, which could be crudely construed as a ‘very posh Toyota’, will keep going.

Even if the boot only ever has time to open once in its life.