From a Bad Marriage, Pretty Babies

AS Daimler and Chrysler negotiate their separation, the sedan widely regarded as the best design to come from their marriage, the Chrysler 300, might imagine itself in a movie moment: She is a lovely daughter at the prom. In a bittersweet scene, the divorcing mom and dad are ruefully proud: “At least our marriage produced her!”

When Daimler-Benz bought Chrysler a decade ago, predictions for the offspring — chunky German sedan meets lithe PT Cruiser — ran to cartoonish extremes. But the 300 hangs marvelously and daringly on the edge of cartoonlike excess, never quite succumbing. The 300 and its Dodge sibling, the Charger, combine American bravado with German solidity, just as the authors of the merger hoped.

The Charger and the 300 changed the definition of the American sedan with an influence as profound as that of the original Ford Taurus in the mid-1980s or the cab-forward Chrysler LH cars — the Chrysler Concorde and Dodge Intrepid— that helped to save the company in the ’90s.

One of the ideas behind the union was to join German taste and restraint with the sort of American exuberance and design vitality demonstrated by Tom Gale, vice president for design at Chrysler from 1985 to 2000, in creating the Prowler, Viper, PT Cruiser and LH sedans.

Did the effort pay off? The record is not bad. For all the hits and misses in auto show design studies, for all the ideas that never quite gelled, the designers of Chrysler’s staff, led today by Trevor Creed, senior vice president for design of the Chrysler Group (and a veteran of Ford’s original Taurus team), have a lot to boast about: wins as big as the 300 and Charger are historic.

The 300 had roots in designs done for the auto show circuit. Directing a team of designers from Chrysler’s Pacifica advanced design studio in Carlsbad, Calif., Freeman Thomas, now the director for North American strategic design at Ford, helped dream up the concept of the noble sedan, a stately and grandly proportioned big car. With the Ford Interceptor concept vehicle, Mr. Thomas has provided Ford with its own version of the noble sedan theme.

The themes of the 300 and Charger (and Dodge’s wagon version of the platform, the Magnum) lay in cars like the Super 8 Hemi design study, with its oddball reversed windshield pillar, developed under Mr. Thomas. Shown in 2001, it was widely derided. Yet elements of the idea — especially the sense of overstatement — showed up in the Charger and Magnum.

Mr. Creed had similar ideas for a breakthrough design. He also envisioned a car with a high beltline and exaggerated forms that visually suggested power, and at the same time promised solidity and security. It would stand out on the road like nothing else. “The car embodies a holistic approach to design," Mr. Creed said when the 300 was unveiled. “Every line and proportion provide visual promise for the automobile, including its driving experience.”

He put Ralph Gilles — at the time, head of Studio 3 at Chrysler — in charge of what became the 300 and Charger. Mr. Gilles is today vice president for Jeep and truck design.

The 300 clicked. Some 60,000 were sold in the first six months. Sales were also strong for the Charger sedan and Magnum wagon.

The 300 was a new kind of Chrysler, one that seemed to possess a bit of Mercedes-Benz. Mercedes drivers immediately recognized the characteristic stalk-style cruise control in the cockpit of the 300, just like the stalk they hit when signaling a turn.

The mouth-breathing macho face and the big, haunched bodies of the cars cried out for larger wheels and a certain hip-hop chic. Touches of panache — tortoise-shell trim on the steering wheel of the 300, for instance — reflected American flamboyance that crossed over into excess when Snoop Dogg and other hip-hop figures endorsed the look.

Other creations of the DaimlerChrysler combination were less successful. The Chrysler Crossfire two-seaters, imagined as an American version of the Mercedes SLK roadster, never captured many hearts.

Designed as a concept by Eric Stoddard, a young designer who has since moved to Kia, the Crossfire went on sale in 2003. Mr. Stoddard said the car was intended to combine the spirit of European sports cars with American ones.

A test case of joint design and development, the Crossfire was built on the underpinnings of the SLK, already several years old, and was built in the same German factory by Karmann, a subcontractor. Some reviewers found the driving dynamics of the Crossfire preferable to the SLK, but the chassis was already showing its age. The SLK was replaced a year later, leaving Chrysler with hand-me-down technology.

With its oversize grille, ribbed hood, complicated side vent, spine of chrome accents and overstated duck’s tail, the Crossfire suggested American exuberance out of control.

The car appeared to be the work of a brilliant student who poured all his ideas into a single car. Any one of the themes might have pleased buyers; together, they only confused.

Other design efforts of the union included the Pacifica, Chrysler’s attempt to move beyond the minivan. Mercedes did better with its own version of the idea, the Grand Sports Tourer design study of 2004, which became the R-Class.

There were few fresh ideas for Jeep, which did little to expand its claim on the American soul. (Consider what Hummer achieved in the same period.) The minivan franchise, on the other hand, was skillfully maintained even as it shrank.