For: Quietly voices Volvo's determination to shake off its bland and boxy image; strong equipment level with standout safety features.

Against: Occasional transmission indecisiveness at lower speed.

Score: 4/5

Like Sweden. Never been there, but if you asked for mental imagery I’d propose a reindeer-infested, fjord-laced and fir tree-coated place fully of folk who converse in sing-song ‘bork, bork, bork’ (blame the Muppets for that) and yet are disturbingly dark and homicidal (your fault, Stieg Larsson). Of course, I’d be wrong.

Unless the subject was Swedish cars. Or, more specifically, since the demise of Saab, Sweden’s car. I can say I have a better handle on Volvo. And so to the S60 T5 in its new R-Design package. This just-released $72,990 performance look intends to make the compact premium sedan just that little bit more visible.

From my experience, it works brilliantly. It got noticed, got talked about. The one thing it didn’t do particularly well was identify itself any more clearly than a standard S60 does. For some reason, people – or, at least, people I know – seem troubled instantly comprehending that this is a Volvo product. They guessed it was high-end Euo, but beyond that … a Ford? A Renault?

It boils down to perception, I’m guessing. It’s been hard for some to reconcile that Volvos are no longer square-riggers of substance. It’s hardly fair, I know. The old T-square cars are now literally so last century and the S60 is anything but. Look at this model and you see latest technology and an admirably strong design that speak an entirely different language to before.

Admittedly, it’s not a wholly Volvo effort; the design sits atop a Ford Focus/Mondeo platform and uses some Blue Oval drivetrain components (in this case a Volvo engine mated to a Ford-supplied PowerShift direct shift gearbox that was actually developed by an independent and is also used by Volkswagen Group, which calls it DSG).

That sounds like a real melting pot, but Swedish input is still considerable; the styling is bespoke and so is the cabin detailing, from the seats through to the smallest buttons. And this being a Volvo, you can be assured safety is utterly integrated, not just tacked on. The brand expressly tailors all its aids, not least the City Safety system, made all the more brilliant with the addition of pedestrian recognition software.

Volvo’s ability to deliver a safe, solid and stylish car is without reproach. Where it has previously allowed its enthusiasm to run too rampant in the past is with that R badge of courage.

I like performance cars. Moreover, I’m not usually prone to liking performance models that have less go than their predecessors. And yet, that’s why I like the R-Design. Because, in being more toned down, it actually becomes more in tune with my tastes.

Honest, it’s not an age thing. Volvo’s past R cars increasingly became way too feral for their own good – touchy throttles, torque steer and increasingly harsh ride. Great for that once in a lifetime track attack, ruinous for everyday road running.

The R-Design takes a more realistic approach. It still looks hottish (gloss black grille, deeper bumpers, Audi-style matt silver wing mirror caps, darkened Ixion five-spoke 18-inch wheels and a revised treatment for the exhausts and, on the inside, sports seats, a sportier steering wheel and enhanced trim, including blue instrumentation) but doesn’t burn at the touch.

The package also delivers lower, more rigid suspension, altered damping at the rear and a strut brace under the bonnet. That the 2.0-litre four-cylinder turbo remains pinned down to 177kW and 320Nm might suggest it’s all shout and no trousers, but as is it hardly lacks for fire.

Also, the torque delivery is almost relaxed, with good part-throttle response, and it doesn’t drink too heavily. It might be in the sensible zone, but perhaps that’s preferable to a snorty setup just a hair away from launching into a Viking rampage.

A clever traction control that keeps the front driving wheels from skidding up at every takeoff might rattle the burnout brigade, but it also means you won’t be the centre of attention every time the lights go green.

The suspension is well sorted, too. Again, the car handles tidily and rides more firmly, but, because the dampers have also been tuned to retain decent compliancy over patchy surfaces, it isn’t prone to bone-rattling crashy harshness any longer. It generally feels as willing as you do to attack bends.

Even the look isn’t too loud. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t partial to a nice bodykit, and the R-Design delivers nicely on that front: It looks sophisticated without stumbling into OTT stupidity. The cabin feels plush, too, and the seats are amazingly good, properly supportive and comfortable. It also has the air of durability and there is the feeling that is has a well assembled interior made from generally fine materials.

All good, so far? Well, sorry that I cannot paint a picture of complete happiness. There are limitations to its front-drive chassis, but the issues with this car that vex me go beyond that.

One is the steering. How can it be that the superb wheel feel that Ford delivers to a Mondeo and Focus can be removed so effectively by Volvo? I just don’t get it. Their system’s artificial weighting simply fails to deliver the level of feedback that would make the car genuinely involving. It doesn’t concern me so much in the lesser cars – the D3 wagon that came our way a couple of weeks ago, for instance – but this edition should do better.

I’m in two minds about the PowerShift box. The snap-shifting entertainment at pace is offset, around town, by an abruptness and occasional indecisiveness that is at odds with the car’s overall demeanour.

The R-Design’s enhancements go some way to enhancing the S60’s image. They don’t really transform it enough to challenge an Audi or a BMW, but that’s not an issue for me.

I’ve never really seen any Volvo in that light; to me this brand pitches more convincingly against Peugeot, Skoda and top-flight editions of mainstream Japanese fare. Which means it should be a bit cheaper, really.

If the money does seem right, however, then it is a beguiling left field choice. There’s a genuine air of exclusivity and I can understand why it has become the standard T5 choice.