Remember that kid in high school who always had to be different–just for the sake of being different? In the auto biz,that kid is Nissan. And the company's contrariness isn't just random noncomfority. It's a deliberate distinctiveness that has clearly put the No. 3 Japanese importer ahead of a pack of me-too vehicles.

A drive past any Nissan dealership illustrates the phenomenon. First to break the mold, in 2002, was the Altima sedan, whose racy lines seemed way too bold at first for a mainstream vehicle. Then last year the Murano "crossover" SUV debuted with an unusual hybrid design combining the top of a sports sedan with the bottom of an SUV. The remade Quest minivan arrived this year looking like the imcomprehensible–a sport minivan–and behaving like one. Nissan's product onslaught also includes such notables as the slick, machined 350Z two-seater, the muscular Pathfinder Armada SUV, and the brand new Titan, a full-size pickup with the gall to encroach on turf dominated by Ford, Chevy, and Dodge.

Barely noticed amidst this cavalcade: The '04 Maxima. But park one in your driveway and you'll gawk at it all day long. The oval-shaped roof conveys the podlike cuteness of the VW New Beetle, until you get to the edges of the car. There, the short overhangs–wheels pushed out toward the corners of the vehicle–connote a defensive tackle in a four-point stance. The abrupt, stubby trunk and the four rows of chrome teeth in the front grill–which reminded me of some kind of automatic weapon–complete the image of a loveable assassin. Step into the Maxima and you're greeted with the same aggressive friendliness. The dash is angled in a way that resembles a snout protruding into the cabin. And a conventional roof just wouldn't do; instead, there are two glass panels–one front and one rear–meant to let in light and open up the cabin. I have some quibbles with the layout of dashboard controls, but overall, oddities are rarely so agreeable.

On the road, the Maxima is pliant. The 265-horsepower engine does just about whatever you ask it to. While gauging the car's off-the-line acceleration, I repeatedly chirped the tires–not an easy feat in a front-wheel-drive vehicle where the weight of the engine adds an extra bit of traction to the drive wheels. The "torque steer" that inevitably comes with front-wheel drive–a jerky grabbiness when you're turning and pressing the gas at the same time–makes handling squishier than rear-drive sedans like the G35, the entry-level offering from Nissan's Infiniti luxury division. But I didn't really mind–the Maxima is so smooth up and down the driving spectrum that it's hard to find much to complain about. If success in the Nissan family is measured by how respectably you stand out in a crowd, this nonconformist fits right in.