Nissan’s Quest trendy minivan

Widely derided as mommy-mobiles, minivans have taken such a beating in the popular culture that sometimes we forget that manufacturers have been selling a million-plus of them a year for more than a decade.

So somebody has smarts out there. Truth is, minivans overall have more room, accelerate and handle better, deliver higher fuel economy and cost less than most of their sport utility counterparts. But you can’t sell that to the jocks and jockettes who loudly proclaim that they wouldn’t be caught dead in a minivan. So be it. Vehicle tastes are something like religion and politics. Don’t argue.

There’s not much you can do about the basic minivan configuration. It has to be long and tall, with a cavernous interior for passengers and cargo, so they all tend to look pretty much alike. Despite that, the manufacturers continually look for ways to distinguish their vans to somehow make them appeal more to the folks who wouldn’t consider one in the first place.

Leading that parade is Nissan, with its brand-new for 2004 Quest, a 17-footer that combines trendy styling with eccentric ergonomics in an attempt to minimize its minivan persona. It succeeds somewhat. But despite its edgy exterior, there’s still no question that it’s a minivan, with a slab-sided profile, sliding side doors and large hatch out back.

So to try to clinch the deal, the Nissan designers put a lot of imagination into the interior, with results that sometimes sacrifice function for flair. Funny thing is, the stuff that works the best is practical, and the offbeat touches may or may not appeal to the style conscious.

Like the Honda Odyssey, and now the Toyota Sienna, the Quest features a third-row seat that disappears into the floor. But in a bit of one-upmanship, the Quest’s second-row captain’s chairs also fold into the floor, leaving a gaping cargo area of 149 cubic feet on the tested midlevel SL model. It can swallow the proverbial 4-by-8-foot piece of plywood.

There are a few problems, however. While the second-row seats fold easily, the one-piece third-row seat is heavy and cumbersome — to the point where people of smaller stature might not be able to handle it. In addition, the headrests must be removed, and there’s no dedicated place to stash them.

To enable the seats to fold away, they have fairly thin padding, but in the center row are comfortable, though lacking in thigh support. The third-row bench seat can accommodate two average-sized adults, but is narrow so comfort disappears if you try to squeeze three back there.

Up front is where things get crazy — or trendy, if that’s your preferred description. The shifter, a couple of air vents and all the controls are located on an oval-shaped cylinder in the center of the dash. The instruments are housed in a pod directly above.

The whole thing makes you think that the designer was snoozing in the back of the ergonomics class. None of it is intuitive. You simply have to learn it. For example, the shifter. It’s handily located, but the button on the side doesn’t release the shifter from park. Nope, it’s the overdrive lockout. The release button is on the front of the shift lever.

Similarly, you have to spend time with the owner’s manual to figure out the climate controls. On the test SL, some of the radio buttons are arranged with the optional navigation system controls, and the CD player is down on the center stack where you can’t see it. The control panel for the optional DVD entertainment system is even worse; it’s down near the floor on the side of the front passenger seat.

The center instrument pod is oddly designed. The tachometer and speedometer are easy enough to read, though you have avert your eyes, but the combined odometer, fuel and temperature gauge is tiny and looks like the dim dial on a 1940s-era home radio.

The tested midlevel SL model, with a base price of $27,280, had a bottom-line sticker price of $32,280, mainly because of the optional DVD entertainment and navigation systems. The latter had a display that included a trip computer, and radio and climate-control information. But the screen is far away and requires the driver to focus and concentrate to see it, and the voice prompt nags at you to bear left every time you approach a freeway exit.

From a performance standpoint, the Quest SL comports itself as well as any of the minivan leaders. The 3.5-liter V-6 engine has 240 horsepower, enough to propel the more than 2-ton Quest to 60 mph in a shade over eight seconds. Although you know you’re driving a large vehicle, the handling and ride are more carlike than in the average SUV.

Over the past several years, revitalized Nissan has developed some of the sharpest cars and trucks of any manufacturer, with avant-garde styling, appealing features and competitive prices. The Quest even goes beyond that, but the question is whether it’s enough to build a bridge to the SUV lovers who hate minivans.