All of which adds up to a car that handles like no Cadillac before it. More softly suspended than the M3 (and you really notice its more comfortable ride on the street), the CTS-V was nonetheless fully capable on the ultrahigh-speed corners of Road America, with body control easily the equal of, and most probably superior to, Audi's S4 and Mercedes' C32 AMG. Steering response is very linear, body roll well contained (especially at the front) and grip prodigious.

In fact, Cadillac is so proud of its accomplishments in this last regard that the CTS-V is the first car with a built-in "g" meter to measure lateral acceleration (one wag redlined it a 1.0 at Road America, an incredible number if it's accurate).

The Bottom Line . . . is a key element in this evaluation. As tested, the M3 and the CTS-V are about the same in price, although substantially different in character. The smaller Bimmer is essentially a sports car with a cramped back seat, whereas the Cadillac offers sedan versatility and comfort to go with its muscle. It's hard to imagine that someone interested in one of them would seriously consider the other. Yet the CTS-V and the M5 are directly comparable in everything but price. Given even money, our test crew favored the M5. Then we asked ourselves the key question: Is the M5 almost $23,000 better than the Cadillac? We got a resounding no to that one.

The CTS-V isn't perfect. Nevertheless, after a long succession of so-called Euro sedans that were exactly as European in character as Omaha, Cadillac has finally created one that can run with the autobahn crowd. It may not be the baddest bull in that herd, but it's got the right moves and the right stuff—plus that freshly creased look that's uniquely Cadillac—at the right price.

Highs: Supersedan punch, knife-edge handling, lots of space, loaded with goodies.

Lows: Tricky to launch, electronic hysteria, reluctant shifter.

The Verdict: An all-American bahn stormer that's arguably the best buy in its class.