By the standards of the modern BMWs, Audis and Jaguars against which it is intended to compete, the new Chrysler 300C is a flawed car. And this from a marque whose image would be confused were it not already barely detectable. So it says something about the power of charm that these words are flowing from my fingers with an enthusiasm I cannot remember any 30-grand saloon engendering in the recent past. The 300C is not a very good car but, to the right sort of person, it may just come to be thought of as a great one.

I’ll explain. Think of a Chrysler and there’s an equal chance that anything from a large MPV, a retro-funky hatchback, a cute coupé, a small saloon or even an 8 litre supercar could float through your mind. We know they come from America, but it’s never seemed clear what their focus in Britain was.

This speaks of a brand personality more splintered than split, and adding a large saloon to the unlikely mix would hardly seem to help bring a sense of cohesion. Bringing the 300C to Britain — as Chrysler will next year — seems at first a triumph of optimism over common sense, and even pure folly when you consider its merits relative to the German opposition.

Its platform is evolved from the E-class Mercedes — not the one you can buy today, but the previous generation, a car I was writing about 10 years ago. The only truly Chrysler element of the running gear is its engine, which, instead of being a Stuttgart-designed multi-valve marvel with a quartet of camshafts, is a simple slice of Detroit metal with two valves for each of its eight cylinders and a single camshaft. They call it the “Hemi” because its combustion chambers are hemispherical, something of an innovation when Chrysler began making Hemis in 1952.

At first glance the 300C appears to be the worst of all worlds: a cynical plundering of obsolete engineering to be foisted upon a public the company must hope wouldn’t know a good car if it ran them over.

Then again, just look at it. It is a masterpiece from front to back — I love its high waist and short glasshouse. Unmistakably, unapologetically American, it oozes cool and confidence.

Now turn your attention back to its mechanics: the old E-class chassis was a class act then and so it remains. And as for that apparently antediluvian engine, it’s actually brand new and, in one respect at least, a sight more clever than any European rival. Boasting 5.7 litres and 340bhp at maximum effort, if you choose merely to potter it automatically turns off half its cylinders, boosting fuel economy by 10-20%.

Use all eight cylinders and the 300C is quick — the claimed 0-62mph time of 6.4sec seems conservative. Its Mercedes five-speed automatic gearbox is smooth and slick but I’d have preferred a slightly louder, more raw exhaust note for that authentic muscle-car sound.

The age of the chassis shows most on tight roads, where the stiff steering feels lifeless, the nose heavy and the ride jittery. Give it some space, however, and a decent road surface and it can be hustled along at a pace you’d need an unusually well driven European saloon of similar power to eclipse. It’s also refined enough for normal conversation to take place at 130mph.

My biggest quibble is with the interior. It’s a triumph by American standards but is still miles behind the Audis of this world. There are too many hard plastics, poorly fitted panels and unrelieved expanses of grey to come close to the quality the customer now expects. It’s not exactly a grand saloon in the US fashion, either — space in the back and boot is acceptable but no more.

Which is why I struggle to see how the 300C Hemi (and the 3.5 litre petrol and 3 litre turbodiesel variants) is going to tempt buyers from the German quality manufacturers. It may be that Chrysler is able to sell the 300C for more than £10,000 less than the equivalent BMW or Audi, but in a market propelled by a fanatical desire to drive the “right” car I doubt even that will be enough.

All is not lost, however. Chrysler should point the 300C in a different direction. There is good evidence that the market for large mass-produced saloons is waning, with Ford and Vauxhall for example electing not to replace the Scorpio and Omega. This provides an opportunity the 300C can exploit, particularly as Chrysler aims to shift just 2,000 a year in Britain.

It is a car that oozes charm. And who cares about a lack of brand image when you’re selling against cars as forgettable as a Peugeot 607 or Volvo S80, or as conspicuously ugly as a Renault Vel Satis? If I was offered a 300C as an alternative company car to any of the established players in this class, my fleet chief would lose his arm at the elbow.

VITAL STATISTICS

Model: Chrysler 300C 5.7L V8
Engine type: V8, 5654cc
Torque: 340bhp @ 5000rpm / 387 lb ft @ 4000rpm
Transmission: Five-speed automatic, rear-wheel drive
Suspension: (front) coil springs, double wishbones, anti-roll bar (rear) coil springs, multilink axle, anti-roll bar
Performance: 0-62mph: 6.4sec / top speed: 155mph
Price: £30,000
Verdict: More than makes up in charm what it lacks in image and outright ability

THE OPPOSITION

Model: BMW 545i SE, £41,925
For: Driving experience, engine, build quality
Against: Highly individualistic styling will
polarise opinion

Model: Mercedes E500, £43,750
For: A consummate all-rounder
Against: More expensive, quality not what it used to be, especially inside; dealers can be poor