It’s not every day that a car comes along and completely flips your expectations of a brand on its head. But the Lexus LBX Morizo RR does exactly that, and does it unapologetically. This is a car that almost didn’t exist, one that had to be fought for, engineered under cover of passion, and championed by none other than Akio Toyoda himself, aka Morizo, the racing alter-ego of Toyota’s ex-CEO and current chairman. The end result? One of the most exciting, oddball, grin-inducing cars I’ve driven all year.
When you think of the Lexus LBX, you wouldn’t be wrong to associate that thought with Toyota/Lexus’ hybrid powertrain. But, to be worthy of bearing Morizo’s name, in its place comes something different: a 1.6-litre three-cylinder turbocharged rally engine shoehorned into a tiny body, sending power to all four wheels through a clever AWD system, and accompanied by more noise, vibration, and drama than any Lexus has had business producing in years.
The LBX Morizo RR is the Toyota family’s wild cousin who is built on the same DNA of the incredible GR Yaris and GR Corolla, but adds a touch of Lexus polish, although you’ll quickly realise polish isn’t the whole point here. In fact, this is one of those rare cars where its roughness is part of the charm. The engine has turbo lag. It shakes the steering wheel. It sends vibrations through the pedals. It sounds unrefined at low revs. None of these things are particularly “Lexus”, and yet that’s why it works so well. It’s refreshing in a brand that’s spent decades being almost too perfect (remember the LS400 ad with the champagne glasses? That Mr. Toyoda himself replicated with the LS500 afterwards)
The LBX is already a nicely proportioned little thing, but this RR version brings a whole lot of spice to the silhouette. You will see the aggressive wheels and wider tyres under the slightly pumped guards, the large floating rotors with big, red brake calipers, and the double exhaust. But it’s still recognisably an LBX, which means it flies under the radar until it doesn’t, in a less-in-your-face way than the GR Yaris or Corolla.
The Cobalt Blue paint on my tester was jaw-dropping: a rich, metallic hue that looked like it was poured on in layers. The depth and the shimmer showcase that classic Lexus Takumi craftsmanship we are accustomed to at this point, working well with the dark paint of the wheels and the black roof.
Inside, things take a turn back toward the familiar. The seats are signature Lexus: supportive, beautifully trimmed, and generously adjustable on the driver’s side, though more basic on the passenger side, without as little as height adjustment. Both are heated, including the steering wheel, and there’s memory for the driver, and just the right blend of support for spirited driving.
The cabin is well built, and there is plenty of suede being used in the right spots, reminding me of the GS F sports sedan. It is clearly adapted from the regular LBX, and that means compact dimensions and a more minimalist layout. Sitting behind myself, leg room was basically inexistent, and the car is narrow enough to not even have a rear armrest. The 13-speaker Mark Levinson sound system delivers amazing clarity, but it doesn’t quite envelope you like in other Lexus models — something about the staging felt slightly off, though most people didn’t notice while riding with me.
Speaking about sound, let’s now talk about the theatre. The LBX RR has what Lexus calls “Active Noise Control Sound Enhancer”, which is a fancy way of saying: we fake engine noises through the speakers. And sure, it’s artificial, but it works. The fake pops and bangs in Expert Mode aren’t fooling anyone, but they add to the vibe, and that’s half the point of a car like this. I returned another sporty car in exchange for this, and this one got my wife’s smartwatch to throw a “high heart rate warning”, so this is pure evidence-based journalism being done here, proving how much of a thrill this car actually is.
The screen is flawlessly integrated into the dashboard, has great specs and is great to interact with. It has a setup that is “set and forget” that gets you to rely on your phone projection quite heavily (not that I mind, with a reliable wireless Apple CarPlay connection, wireless charging, and handy USB-C ports). You also get physical buttons for temperature control, climate settings and access to the 360 camera.
The driver cluster works in conjunction with the HUD to keep vital information at a glance, always showing handy reminders of what the steering wheel buttons (which are unmarked) are operating as you swipe over them, so that you remember what you are actually toggling. There is plenty of customisation between modes and user-defined views, and access to drivetrain information that will be important on track.
When it’s time to get this going, the engine, which is the centerpiece of the whole experience, makes itself noticed from the jump. It cold starts with some shaking, increased revs to heat things up, and that raspy 3 cylinder sound. Power delivery is typical of this architecture: it wants revs, and it wants commitment. Turbo lag is real, but once it’s past the threshold, the car surges forward with glee. There’s a coarse growl as it builds boost, and you feel every bit of that drama through your hands and feet, including the turbine some tuner flutter when you lift off. It’s not smooth, and it’s exciting. It constantly goads you into finding the next corner just so you can punch out of it again.
The 8-speed automatic gearbox deserves praise, too. In standard Drive, it’s slick and unobtrusive, shifting calmly and quietly. But flick it into Manual mode and it feels like a whole new gearbox is swapped in. Gear changes happen faster, up and down, the car is more willing to accept your requests, and — crucially — it’ll let you ride the limiter if you want. Combine that with Sport mode, which brings up a new digital cluster layout, and suddenly you’re driving something that feels more motorsport-inspired than motorway-ready.
And despite the auto-only setup for us (whereas the GR Yaris and GR Corolla can be had with manuals), this car knows how to have fun. It is entertaining in all modes, increasingly so. Sport mode engages the Sound Enhancer and adds some spice to basically everything. And, on top of that, there’s still Expert mode: it sharpens throttle response, plays with the AWD torque split, and allows just enough rear-end play to make you grin without ever putting you in real danger. It’s balanced, predictable, engaging. Everything you want in a proper driver’s car. On top of that, the AWD 50/50 mode can also be engaged to further even more the control you have to how the power is put to the ground.
Body control is genuinely impressive. GR’s engineering fingerprints are all over this chassis with more bracing, stiffer suspension, and broader tracks, and it works wonders. It is a stiff car, and flat in corners, but not punishing. It manages small bumps and surface changes with composure, though that short wheelbase and aggressive tyres mean it’s not exactly plush. But it’s still a Lexus, so it is also never too stiff or crashy, getting very close to having your cake and eating it too.
The steering is well weighted, direct and responsive, and the car’s eagerness to change direction makes it feel alive. It is not overly accelerated, and you can tell it’s working with you, not against you. The all wheel drive design leads to some plow-y behaviour by design, and as you resist it, the steering weighs up and gives you plenty of feedback of what’s happening down there.
Where things start to unravel a bit is in real-world range. The fuel tank is tiny, clearly carried over from the hybrid LBX, which means you’ll be refuelling (with 98) more often than you’d like, especially if you’re driving it as it wants to be driven. Efficiency claims are, let’s just say… optimistic. Even with feather-footed driving, I couldn’t get close to the advertised numbers of 9.2L/100km. But that’s fine, because hypermiling is the last thing on your mind in this car, just get prepared to a realistic driving range of around 350km.
The LBX Morizo RR is wild. It’s flawed. It’s completely unexpected. Lexus’ lineup is full of amazing cars, and still this is an outlier. The fact it challenges the very idea of what the brand is supposed to be must not be underestimated. In a showroom full of serene hybrids and ultra-quiet luxury cruisers, this tiny, noisy, thrilling bundle of chaos feels like an act of rebellion. A welcome one.
It exists because someone fought for it. Because Akio Toyoda believes in fun. And because sometimes, even a brand built on refinement can let its hair down. Thanks, Mr. Morizo! Thanks, Lexus! And thank you for reading this far!
