2025 Lexus LC 500 Coupe Review: Pursuing Perfection

As automotive slogans go, “the relentless pursuit of perfection” was a great one.

Those five words were the guiding principle that launched the Lexus brand in North America 36 years ago. Ostensibly about the—and I can’t stress how much I hate using this term—paradigm-shifting LS sedan ( RIP), the original brand motto kept repeating itself in my head during a week with the 2025 Lexus LC 500 Coupe.

Simply put, this is one of the best big coupes to exist. It is grand tourer perfection.

It’s wild to think the LC is quickly approaching its 10th birthday. Production started in early 2017 and honestly, it still looks fantastic. There’s a real concept car feel to the flowing lines and intricate detailing. Take the headlights: the actual LED elements are confined within a small triangle, but a contrasting surround, intersecting DRLs, and a bit of body-color gives the impression of larger “eyes,” sort of like the McLaren 720S, which debuted the same year.

We’ve had the convertible in for testing a few times in a row, so the coupe’s elegantly fared glasshouse, with the layered effect of the chrome and blacked-out pilar, is a welcome change of pace. The droptop’s four-layer lid can’t match the style here, but the flip-side is that the coupe can’t achieve the same level of drama as the top-down experience.

I’ve gone on record saying that in almost all situations, I would recommend a hybrid powertrain in a vehicle that offers it.

The LC is the reason “almost” is part of that claim. Considering Lexus recently discontinued the LC hybrid, which sold a whole 17 units in the US in 2024, it seems even the company agrees. A vehicle like the LC is all about an emotional experience, and while there are exciting hybrids out there, the electrified coupe just wasn’t one of them.

It doesn’t hurt that the 5.0-liter V8 is one of the finest modern engines in production. Blessed with a free-breathing, quick-revving nature, these eight cylinders sing a rich and cultured song, yet stop shy of the over-acted, artificial pops and bangs found elsewhere. The headline 471 horsepower and (especially) 398 pound-feet of peak torque figures don’t seem impressive in a time when even SUVs have four-figure corrals. Yet the power builds so predictably and linearly that, should you take control of the 10-speed auto yourself, the payoff is longer pulls in each gear. That’s a win!

If I must pick nits, it’s with the Aisin-sourced ‘box. The shifts are buttery-smooth when cruising around, and pick up the pace well enough when in Sport or Sport+ mode. The magnesium paddle shifters are reasonably responsive, but if I’m going to the effort of manual control, quicker shifts would be nice.

Like the V8’s power delivery, the LC’s steering is measured and linear. The classic round steering wheel weighs up naturally as speed builds, and while there isn’t much in the way of feedback, it’s nonetheless easy to judge what the front axle is up to.

This model has the Performance Package, which, amongst other things, adds a carbon fiber roof, sport seats, and rear Torsen limited-slip differential. In combination with the adaptive dampers and four-wheel steering, the package keeps the big 4,340-pound coupe tidy in the corners. The LC obviously won’t slice up a winding back road with the same average speed as a Porsche 911, but it gamely hangs on, the LSD ensures every pony makes its way to the pavement, and there’s a silky predictability to the proceedings. There’s also a significant attitude change between Comfort and Sport+, with noticeably sharper reflexes and increased body control in the latter.

A proper grand tourer has to ensconce as much as it engages. If the cruising ride is too rough, the entire car is for nought: you might as well have bought a full-on two-seat sports car.

So I’m happy to report that even with the Performance Package, the LC strikes the right balance. There is a cossetting, well-damped ride in all modes, ensuring tarmac-level ugliness rarely makes its way into the cabin. Sound insulation is supreme; if anything, it’s almost too good, as I’d like to hear just a bit more of that V8 without needing to drop the windows. On the highway, expansion joints elicit a muffled thwack and little else.

Don’t be scared away by the additional bolstering of the sport seats. The added snugness simply keeps torsos in place during high-g manuevers. The rest of the time, the front thrones are supremely supportive with strong thigh and lower-back support. The heating and ventilation both work well, too—not that I needed the former in the middle of summer.

As ever, the rear seats are best suited to either small children or adults planning on being back there for less than an hour.

Quick, how many modern production cars feature an asymmetrical cabin design? The LC is one of them, with a whole different door panel design from one side to the other. The cascading Alcantara section is the same, but the passenger’s door mirrors the curved grab handle to the right of the center console, while the driver’s door is more open to account for its additional controls.

This Toasted Caramel color scheme might be a lot when paired with the Copper Crest exterior, but I say lean into the show-stopping looks. (Copper Crest disappears for 2026, too.) The lighter color scheme highlights the incredible craftsmanship all the more as well, with every panel and stitch secured with millimetric precision. There isn’t a hint of creaks or growns during my week with the LC; it feels like it was built to last on a different time scale from most modern cars.

Okay, yes, the trunk is tiny at 5.4 cubic feet (153 L). That is the LC’s most major flaw, especially as a grand tourer.

Since Lexus dropped its newer infotainment into the LC last year, there have been some grumbles about the accompanying dip in cohesive design. And that’s fair: as awkward as the old trackpad system was to use, the screen’s clean integration with the rest of the dashboard was preferable to this slap-a-tablet-on-it setup. The payoff, of course, is a much improved, altogether simpler infotainment experience, with little need to hunt through sub-menus and a simple wireless phone pairing experience. The combination of digital/analog instruments still oozes class where other competitors have just gone to a full screen. There’s nothing interesting about a big swath of shiny black when the car isn’t actually running.

Don’t let the low speaker count (13) of the Mark Levinson sound system deter you. The LC is capable of pumping out the tunes at high volumes without distortion.

Lexus Safety System+ 2.5 carries with it the usual smattering of driver assists. Of note is the standard 360-degree camera; the high tail and pinched greenhouse do eat into rear visibility, so you’ll appreciate the extra set of eyes.

American pricing for the 2025 LC begins at $101,875, including destination. Spec'ing a model exactly like this Canadian-spec example is impossible—the Touring package doesn’t play with the Dynamic Handling package—but you can get 95 percent of the experience for around $110,000.

This Canadian-spec tester rang in at $133,245 CAD, including destination, up from its starting price of $117,720 CAD on account of the pricey Performance Package and Copper Crest paint. That’s a lot of coin for something that doesn’t significantly alter any on-paper stats, but the broader dynamic capabilities and added comfort touches make it a desirable package. Besides, 15 grand in options is what a Porsche buyer would call “a nice start.”

Speaking of which, you won’t even get into a bog-standard 911 at this price. AMG will sell you a GT 43 coupe starting from $107,750 (unavailable in Canada), but good luck explaining that it’s basically powered by a version of the four-cylinder found in a GLA. F-Type? Dead. 8 Series? Dead.

Every time I’m fortunate enough to drive an LC, I’m reminded just how special it is. The 2025 model is no different. One of the most important measures of any vehicle is its fitness for purpose: does it achieve the broader goals of the segment and the more focused goals of its maker? The LC utterly nails the brief of being a world-class grand tourer, as beautiful to look at as it is to sit in and listen to. If you have the means, get one while you still can.

Become an AutoGuide insider. Get the latest from the automotive world first by subscribing to our newsletter here.