I'm driving up one of the avenues in New York City at about 30 miles per hour, and the guy in the next lane is gesturing madly for me to put my window down. It seems urgent. Like maybe he needs to tell me the back of my car is on fire or something. I push the button. The window descends. "What?!!" I holler at him.

"How do you like it?!" he shouts back, referring to the brand-new R350 I'm trying not to smash into one of the ubiquitous taxis or delivery trucks crisscrossing in front of me.

"Fine!" I yell back. "Mind if I drive now?" He gives me a thumbs-up and cackles like a schoolboy.

This turned out to be routine during the week I drove the R350. Friends and neighbors would keep staring at it, first from one angle, then from another. I'd walk out of a store into the parking lot to find strangers clustered around the R350, trying to figure out what it is. "A van? A wagon?" That kind of attention suggests the R Class will be a hit with consumers. And if Mercedes has indeed resolved the quality problems that have plagued recent models-issues ranging from bugs in electronics and electrical systems to dealers in denial–the R could be an enduring success for the German luxury carmaker.

The R Class is a thematic cousin of the Chrysler Pacifica, which is to say it blends the rugged ethos of an SUV, the driveability of a sport wagon, and the practicality of a minivan. Yes, it is jarring to see the words Mercedes and minivan in the same sentence, but the automaker has only borrowed features that it can discreetly design into a vehicle that looks like the anti-minivan. There are no sliding doors, to be sure. But there are three rows of seats, including plush second-row captain's chairs that slide forward and back, allowing lavish legroom for adults. The mid-row seats flop forward with the tug of one latch, allowing kids to clamber into the third row. But my kids preferred to navigate to the third row via the pass-through between the two captains' chairs, which my nine-year-old daughter called "the aisle," as if she were riding on a Gulfstream.

That's not too far off. The swept, aeronautical proportions of the exterior extend into the cabin, a masculine yet graceful environment with elegant design touches such as door armrests that curve upward to meet the natural resting place of the driver's left hand. The R's performance is adept too. This is a large vehicle, yet even with a passenger in each of the six seats (and a dog in the back), it felt light and responsive. The 268-horsepower V-6 on the entry model is more than adequate, aided by a supersmooth seven-speed automatic transmission. I was most impressed with the R's athletic agility, which allowed me to dart through that Manhattan traffic as if I were a bike messenger. And speed away from the crazy people in the other lanes.