I'm at a light. Two lanes are about to merge into one. Next to me, a guy in a faux sports car with a weenie engine is eyeing me up, and I know exactly what he's thinking: Once that light turns he'll take me in a snap. I'm some fuddy duddy in a minivan, after all, easy prey even for a weakling like him.

Now, in a couple of other minivans, like the new Nissan Quest or the Honda Odyssey, I could outmuscle this loser and teach him not to make assumptions. But the Monterey is not interested in proving itself in such an aggressive manner. I imagine how embarrassing it would be to challenge him–and lose–and I resign myself to acting my age. When the light changes I fold in behind him just like an orderly driver should.

Minivans are not supposed to be race cars, of course, and many buyers will probably be quite satisfied with the new Monterey and its structurally identical Freestar twin. Compared with the earlier Monterey and the Windstar, which the Freestar replaces (Ford, for unexplained reasons, is renaming all of the cars in its lineup that don't already start with 'F'), the new model represents a pleasant evolution. The engine is better-mannered than its predecessor, which had a notable trucklike drawl. There is functionality galore, with copious cupholders and cavernlike storage and the Ford-original "conversation" mirror for looking at the kids in the backseat from the driver's perch. Also the now-obligatory fold-flat third-row bench seat, which comes with a couple of innovations: "Shingled" headrests that don't need to be removed before you stow the seat into the floor, and a flip-around feature that lets you point the third-row out the back–a convenient, though not must-have, option for tailgating.

But for all those advances, the Monterey/Freestar ensemble arguably lags further behind the competition than it did when the last version of the Windstar was introduced in 1998. The most obvious deficiency is styling. Nissan and Toyota have raised the bar with minivans that don't look or act like them, while Ford seems content to paddle along with a conventional, last-decade design that screams "Sell-out!" Many parents won't care–but some will, and they are the ones who will generate the buzz that tweaks sales beyond what predictable marketing will produce. The blandness carries through to the interior, which is utilitarian, even in the supposedly upscale Monterey. Dashboard controls, for instance, are lodged in a dated and indistinct central console with too many small buttons and no digital display. And the power window buttons are the same ones Ford was using on economy cars five years ago. Handling is a step behind too. While much improved, the Freestar is not nearly as nimble as several imports that have carlike maneuverability. Ford, in other words, has done a good job improving on itself. But it should have worried more about the other guys.