The new Defender is everything it was … and everything it never used to be. Which makes it hugely alluring.

Price: $114,900 ($120,150 as tested).

Powertrain and performance:  2.0-litre four-cylinder twin turbocharged diesel engine. 240kW/2400rpm, 430Nm/1500rpm. Four-wheel-drive. Combined cycle fuel consumption 7.8L/100km (claim), 8.4L/100km (road test).

Vital statistics: Length 5018mm, height 1969mm, width 2008mm, wheelbase 3022. Wheels: 20-inch alloys with 255/60 R20 tyres.

We like: Smartest Land Rover yet, makes all rivals feel very old indeed.

We don’t like: Seeing it in black, quirky gearshift trigger.

RELEASING any new model inevitably seems to be a tin hat time for Land Rover – everyone’s a ‘know-better’ armchair expert, right?

So, to the Defender. The target painted on a model whose sales success is so vital seems large indeed.

Depending on your degree of pride or prejudice, the oldest and longest-serving nameplate in this  Green badge garage represents all that’s great – and all that grates – about Britain’s famous off-roader brand.

As has so often been said, the original, as ancient and as outdated as it had patently become (even well before it was dropped) nonetheless was so loved it was always going to be a tough act to follow.

So much so that, realistically, Land Rover demonstrated Victoria Cross-earning valour simply by determining to go ahead with a new one, let alone one that is exactly that. New. Not a modernised reproduction but a proper ground-up reinterpretation. That’s bravery beyond the call. Cue the condemnation.

So now it’s out. And now it’s been driven. A delight or a disgrace? The following is based on strength of a week with the 110 (that’s the five-door) in its mid-level SE specification with the 2.0-litre turbodiesel in its most potent state of tune (so, 147kW and 430Nm), an example not quite standard but not too heavily blinged (basically, a $120k example of a car that costs $114,900 bog standard). You can read all the way through or skip to the end.

Or you can accept what I say here and now. Basically, it’s advice to stow that vitriol and any enduring vindictiveness and at least give it a chance. This is no half-pie effort by any means. If anything, it’s the most completely-sorted Land Rover I’ve experienced. Truly.

Just me? It was honestly pure happenstance that past close association with truly off-road sorted Land Rover product – so, either the previous Defender or the Discovery – tied almost all those who rode in the test vehicle during its run.

There was a self-avowed tragic for the old car. He seemed quietly impressed after a 20-minute ride in the new. So too, by and large, were the experts in off-roading who allowed access to their farm, and specifically areas they often use to test latest popular models and suspension and drivetrain mods (cos that’s their day business), and also briefly directly tried out its skill set. A wee quibble about the gear selector aside – they’re right, there’s a bit of a knack to its action – they were smiling.  

Final contestant was a mate who was a passenger during the towing exercise (handily, my race car needed taking to the local circuit for testing, so …). He really had least reason of all to lend this brand any more love. He’d just had a pretty torrid time running a two-generations’ old pre-owned Disco (admittedly, he knew it was a risk, given the low price). And yet? Well, after a while, he began to warm as well.  

What touched their hearts? Well, it’s possible more than packaging than the package itself: Like every recent Land Rover, it has opinion-splitting styling, potentially accentuated by the tester being black. In that hue, insofar as handsomeness went, it was more striking when viewed from the front and sides than from the back. Just like a Discovery then? Exactly, though better-looking overall. 

The sheer dimension of the machine takes some getting used to. After a week, it felt less gargantuan than on first meeting. But it is big.

The dimension has pros and cons – it’s tall and offers a fantastically commanding view, and all-round visibility is not too bad (what you can’t see physically is more than adequately covered by sensors and cameras), but although it is not too long to cause issue for parking, it is wide enough to make normal angle, if not so much parallel, parks seem a squeeze. It’s in that latter, though, where the side-opening tailgate mightn’t do you any favours.

Likewise, it comes across as being quite a dominant force on urban streets you’re always doubly aware of how close it gets – or, more correctly, you imagine it gets – to parked cars.

So maybe it’s not those aspects that make best impression. What does, though, is the comfort – is really does have brilliantly good seats and there’s heaps of head, shoulder and leg room where ever you place in the main cabin (though yes, the third row seats that pop up from the boot are more child-sized).

 Yes, it’s best to remember – and I didn’t always to – to set the air suspension to its lowest setting so as to make egress and access easier, not least for the vertically challenged. But once you’re in, it’s a good spot, roomy and comfortable; the front chairs are extremely good.

The fact that you can sit naturally in it is, for one, a major improvement over the original, whose driving position in particular required significant and painful contortion.

The interior treatment also steps up; it’s still obviously utilitarian, but takes industrial ruggedness to an art form, mixing bare-metal items with high-grade leathers, mixing soft and hard surfaces, rubber floor mats, a tough-looking carpet … it’s all muddy boot-ready, yet there’s still an air of luxury, more so than you’ll find in a Jeep, easily as much as comes with a Land Cruiser.

The ace card within the cabin is what makes the whole car: The technology loading, mainly running through the Pivi Pro infotainment system, which is a big step forward for Land Rover. Quick responses, a clear and concise display. Going to and from Apple CarPlay can be a trick, but overall it’s a winner. 

Yeah, I know what you old-hands think about all this. You’ll tell me the old Defender being as rudimentary as a tool could be was a strength and that you wish the new was too.

Yes, I agree, the fundamental elements of the old model’s design, with the time-honoured basics like live axles and coil springs, and basic square body bolted onto a steel ladder chassis, really made the previous rig a faithful friend.

But that didn’t mean it couldn’t be bettered by Nature. I’ve been in situations where Defenders have been overcome by situations that haven’t stopped rival models. In its last few years, it was sitting at the back of the pack in as much respect to that as anything else.

Nowadays, Land Rover is heavily committed computer-driven wizardry; the advances with this car are such that the Terrain Response system that in other models is a big dial becomes just a switch here. Other switches are touch screen prompts.  

Will it be 100 percent reliable 100 percent of the time? Well, like you, I’ve seen YouTube footage posted by early owners disgruntled by issues. But, then, I’ve seen lots of films made by lots of people angry with lots of different cars. 

All I can is that the Defender didn’t look remotely set to disgrace itself when I had it.

Also, I’d remind that we’re in a technology age. All Land Rover has given us is a machine to suit. Asking for a Land Rover to step back to old-school is like proposing that the Nokia 1100 phone I had 15 years ago is better than the iPhone I have now. It isn’t.

So there’s that. And then there’s the fact that this model was field-tested extremely rigorously all the way up to release.  

Its ambience imparts strength. So, for all that it is likely to settle in as a very useful lifestyle choice, Land Rover doesn’t hide the fact that it has nonetheless tailored this model to also appeal those who will use it for work; everyone from farmers and country vets to outdoors adventure operators. 

So it’s obviously more of a workhorse that the Discovery, let alone anything from Range Rover. A pragmatic vehicle that puts priority on practicality and good honest toil, with stellar off-road ability thrown in for good measure. You don’t expect to get the polish of the more family-minded models and, true enough, in many respects it doesn’t provide it. It’s not rough, but neither is it upper crust schmooze. But it is tough and it is clever. 

When it comes to smarts, well prepared to be as stunned as we all were. What you’re getting is basically the equivalent of a working-class lad who also happens to be a Rhodes Scholar.

It delivers, and in a delightfully no-big-deal manner, features and functions I suspect no other brand that plays in its field – and these days, that’s really just Jeep and Toyota predominantly - had potentially not even given consideration to. But might, now that Land Rover has. 

For example? One that I really useful was the towing assist logic, which crops up as an option on the main display screen. There’s no necessity to use it – the car will happily allow a trailer to be slung on its hook – but I’d advise considering it, because it’s really fascinating.

Basically, once the trailer is attached, you simply slide back into the cockpit, hit the screen prompt and that takes you into a sub-menu which asks, first, what it is you’re. All the usual suspects are identified by icons (boat, caravan, rubbish trailer, and yes, car trailer). Hit that and next question: How many axles? Mine has one, but again everything’s covered. Third: Punch in the dimensions of the trailer. Two minutes with a tape measure, I had that input.

And then? Well, impressive magic. For one, the wing mirrors self-adjusted outward a touch, to give a better view of what’s behind. The surround cameras also sorted their views to take the trailer into account and also give a better view of the tow hitch. The car also adjusted its trailer sway, braking force and stability  control in calibrate for a heavier, longer load (though the weight itself is not required). All in all, it just drove better with this done, than without. I’ve seen anything like this before and neither had my mates.

And that’s just one thing. Taking it off-road was also great fun, even though I really thought I’d pushed my luck too far in the paddocks when striving to ascend a steep hill. We’d come down, there was only one way to get back and this was it. First go, not good. The tyres lost grip, the thing slid backwards, for quite a way. Since I’d already put into the correct mud/grass setting and locked into low range, I thought I’d run out of options. But now; there’s a further low-grip setting. I tried that … and it danced all the way up, the power delivering far more evenly and more precisely to each wheel (and you could see it happening on the screen).

Is that good enough? From the launch drive, I already know so. Buying into the Terrain Response 2 kit – not a retro-fit, unfortunately, but something that has to be implemented during build – gives it more skills and assistance features, including the entire gambit of e-diff options. Giving it brawnier all-terrain tyres would also benefit. The standard rubber’s treads do clog quickly; losing bite on wet grass and mud underneath was half my trouble. 

However, the basic package is really well-engineered. The core reason for the car’s basic shape is to give it best chance of not snagging anything off-road.  The bobtailed rear is brilliant; you achieve a 40 degrees departure angle in off-road mode. Ground clearance measures in at 291mm thanks to the lack of live axles underneath. The wheelbase, relatively long at 3022mm pushes wheels out to each corner. That yields a 38-degree approach angle and 28-degree ramp-over angle. That’s military grade. Likewise the generous amount of ground clearance, which of course is adjustable.

Going to independent all-round suspension shouldn’t allow it to be as outright flexy as something with coil springs and long control arms, and yet the manner in which the Defender copes with ruts, climbs and side angles completely deflates that point of view.  

Those independent control arms, made of cast aluminium, mimic the natural articulation of a live axle by cross-linking air springs, allowing the car to sense the tucking and drooping of each wheel, and compensating accordingly. It all happens so swiftly and accurately the body remains impressively stable. Ultimately, yes, it’ll only stretch and tuck so far, but the underbody is a tidy design, with nothing obviously set to snag and all the fixtures look robust.

Everything’s attached to a modified, heavy-duty aluminium monocoque platform that promises to be 300 percent stiffer than a ladder chassis. Steel is used for strength in important subframe components. A previous driver reckoned the car had rattles. His hearing must be keener than mine. Personal impression was that it is a very tight construct. No shimmy, no shake. So different from the old one.

What you do notice, off road even more than on, is the weight. Even with the lightweight aluminium monocoque design, this Defender weighs at least 400kg heavier than its predecessor, comfortably clocking over two tonnes.

With that in mind, talk – yet to be reconciled – of the current four-cylinder 2.0-litre engines being bumped sometime next year by a 3.0-litre six cylinder diesel, the same engine that already goes into the D300 variant but in lower states of tune, would have weighing up the pros and cons of the current unit.

There’s nothing bad about the four-cylinder; it has decent torque and doesn’t ever seem to feel, let alone sound, strained, but neither does is it up to being especially hustled or rushed. You notice, too, that the eight-speed automatic gearbox shuffles ratios about quickly to cope with demands for acceleration.

In saying that, I’d suspect any version of Defender won’t stand being driven like a hot hatchback. Regardless that roadholding is secure, overly-enthusiastic cornering will have the tall body rolling. It feels easy-going at 100kmh, with a lot more in reser4ves, but charging up to that 225kmh top speed would require special resolve and a high degree of talent, I’d think.

 Still, while the steering is relatively heavy and typically inert for an electrically assisted system, it’s accurate enough, allowing you to place the Defender with ease. From thereon it’s just a matter of having the patience to allow the body time to settle before powering on again. Hey, it’s a large 4x4 yet, in saying that, is tidier than available opponents and certainly worlds ahead of the old Defender.

For all its mass and massiveness, the car has a reassuringly commanding feel and what’s impressive during all this is the rolling refinement. The engine gets gruff as you accelerate, yes, but once you’re holding a steady pace, it settles down. And this allows you to appreciate the isolation of road noise. For a car on 20-inch alloys and 255/60R all-terrain rubber, it’s very good indeed.

In summary, and apologies for taking so long to get to it, the Defender is … well, still a Defender, but a much, much better kind. More to the point, it’s a vehicle that not makes it forebear look ancient, but also does much the same to other contenders in the current market. Just compare it with a Land Cruiser in the same price range to get what I mean. Toyota’s erstwhile model is literally from an earlier century.

One aspect I admire about the Defender is that its evolution is set to continue, particularly in respect the drivetrain. Today we have diesel and petrol, next year there will more engines, with better efficiency, and something else new for the class: A plug-in hybrid.

 Another is that, in the time I had, every day brought a new discovery about what it had and could accomplish. And, as each day passed, the attraction and bond seemed to strengthen.

I hope it succeeds beyond all Land Rover’s dreams.