One of the many hard lessons we learn as we grow up is that fairy tale, storybook, Disney movie, “happily ever after” love is nonsense. Those who have been in a long-term relationship know that no matter how perfect you are for one other, true love is hard. It takes work. It takes arguments. It takes accepting your partner’s faults and your own and trying to fix them.

Automotive love is no different. Car enthusiasts are happy to declare their love for a car and defend it against all comers. Deep down, though, they know their perfect car isn’t, that there’s at least one thing about it they don’t like and would change if they could. Sometimes, the machine has several flaws, but we love it anyway.

I wanted to love the 2017 Alfa Romeo Giulia in a fairy tale way. Instead, I love it in a mature, honest, and clear-eyed way. I see its faults, and I choose not to let them be a deal-breaker.

We’ll start with the Giulia Quadrofoglio Verde, the intense, passionate one. Rather than a family sedan upfitted for racing, it is the family sedan racecar engineers and drivers would build for themselves. Performance takes precedence and you get the impression concessions to everyday livability were made somewhat begrudgingly.

The biggest concession is Alfa’s decision not to offer the manual transmission in the U.S. Although we all understand that manual transmission take rates are low, and crash and emissions testing on multiple powertrains are wildly expensive, it still stings and makes Alfa’s promise the Giulia would be all about the driver ring hollow. Alfa’s Reid Bigland says internal projections showed a one-percent take-rate for manual transmissions, making it a big money loser. I’d like to see the data, given that as late as last year, BMW was reporting a 25-percent take-rate on manual transmission M3s. The silver lining, if you can call it that, is that there’s nothing stopping Alfa from offering the manual later if enough people tell their dealer they won’t buy the car without one.

Instead, we get the tried-and-true ZF eight-speed automatic tuned for serious track duty. The first five ratios are short and tightly spaced, keeping the engine right in the heart of its power band. The shifts are said to occur in less than 100 milliseconds, so quick as to be instantaneous for all intents and purposes. They’re generally smooth, though it would appear Alfa’s made them deliberately harder under full throttle when the steering is straight to make the car feel more hardcore. It goes away when the steering wheel’s turned, so as not to upset the balance of the car. Downshifts are equally fast and rev-matched, and response to the big aluminum paddle shifters is nearly instantaneous as well. What’s more, manual mode is full manual; it won’t upshift for you. Happily, if you attempt to downshift to a gear that would over-rev the engine, the system won’t do it, but will execute the downshift a moment later once the revs have dropped enough — a welcome touch. Should you choose to let the gearbox shift for you, you won’t ever be disappointed by its decisions, but it’s still less fun.

That engine is a potent 2.9-liter, twin-turbo V-6. All-new, it overachieves with 505 hp and 443 lb-ft of torque. Small displacement and big power mean big turbos, and big turbos generally mean lag. The Giulia has no anti-lag system per se, but its transmission works hard to get revs into the meat of the power band as quickly as possible. In-gear acceleration, such as when you’re manually shifting it, is another story. Below 3,500 rpm, laying into the throttle will get you a nice bump in acceleration as the torque does its thing, but it’s nowhere near the engine’s capability. At 3,500, the turbos rub the sleep from their eyes, and at 4,000 rpm, they attack. Then, before you know, it, you’re in the rev limiter. It pulls so strong from 4,000 rpm to its 6,500-rpm redline you’re sure to hit the limiter many times before you get used to it. Thankfully, Race mode activates a big shift indicator on the dash you’ll quickly learn to keep in your peripheral vision. It’s a small price to pay, but if you want the full fury of this engine, you have to drive it above 4,000 rpm all the time.

Thank those short gear ratios for pleasant everyday driveability. Despite its eccentricities, the Giulia is actually quite nice to drive normally. If you want this car to drive like it was designed to, it’s best to leave it in Dynamic mode all the time and get the throttle and transmission response you want, and there’s an option to put the adaptive dampers back in Soft mode. You will still get a fair amount of drivetrain lash in Dynamic (and Race), which feels like a high-powered manual in that regard. When you’re sitting in stop-and-go traffic, though, Normal mode softens everything up and makes it relaxing. There’s also a fuel economy mode (A, on the DNA selector), which we ignored. More critically, the Giulia will stay in whatever mode you left it in when you turned it off, save for Race.

Race mode is a gem. Too often, these modes are over- or under-done, but Alfa’s hit the sweet spot. The throttle pedal remains progressive rather than turning into a 500-hp light switch. Stability control switches to save-your-ass mode, in which it lets the rear end hang out just enough so you catch it and let you feel like a hero. Maybe 20 degrees of slip angle. Even better, it doesn’t slap you down when it comes in. Rather, it simply prevents the tail from sliding out any further but doesn’t bring it back in line. That’s on you. When the rear does let go, it’s predictable, progressive, and easy to control. Full stability control, by contrast, keeps the rear end firmly inline, but only modulates power enough to prevent wheel spin, not to slow you down. It’s so seamless, you’d almost believe the rear tires are just on the edge of their grip rather than being managed by the computer.

Not that grip is in short supply. The Quadrofoglio Verde has more than you can generally use on the street, and impressively high limits on the track. Oversteer is easy enough to provoke with the throttle if you’re ham-fisted, but it’s not constantly trying to swap ends. Rather, the Quadrofoglio Verde is just a little loose, allowing you to rotate the rear end on corner entry with a trail brake, and steer with the throttle on the way out. Understeer is harder to provoke, and generally requires going to the throttle way too early in a hairpin. On a track, this mild looseness makes the car exciting and engaging without making it scary and unpredictable. The torque-vectoring rear axle is impeccably tuned, so much so it’s invisible from the driver’s seat.

Primary control comes from the quickest steering I’ve ever felt in a sedan. The 11-to-one ratio makes it extremely responsive and it’s highly precise. This car turns into a corner like a mid-engine supercar. The tightest hairpin I could find only required 180 degrees of steering, meaning you never have to take your hands off the wheel. This also negates the disadvantage in mounting the paddle shifters to the steering column rather than the wheel itself (should you prefer, the gear shifter is oriented as the racing gods intended, with a pull for an upshift and a push for a downshift). The tradeoff in all this is that there’s no dead spot on center and no progressive ratio. Meaning, if you don’t give it your full, undivided attention on the freeway, you’ll be in the next lane before you know it. The hardcore fans will love it. The daily commuters, not so much. There’s also virtually no feedback from the front wheels in the steering wheel.

Those two types of customer are more likely to agree on the brake-by-wire system. The optional Brembo carbon-ceramic brakes are very powerful and stood up easily to track abuse, but they feel artificial. The pedal stroke is very short, and although the resistance is progressive, it gives you no feedback whatsoever. Rather than feel when you’re on the edge of ABS intervention or if the pads are getting hot, you’ve got to take other cues from the car. When you’re hurtling into a tight corner on the track, good pedal feel greatly increases confidence, and that’s missing here. The average commuter is of course unconcerned with pedal feel, but will take exception to the grabbiness of the aggressive pads. The pedals are also set up perfectly for heel-toe downshifting, if only it mattered for U.S.-spec cars.

Those two customer types will again find common ground on the damping, though in a positive respect. Alfa has struck a fantastic balance between the necessary stiffness for handling performance and everyday ride quality. Yes, the ride is sports sedan stiff, but it’s never harsh. Not once will your teeth chatter or your gut jiggle. Even still, body movements are controlled precisely and the car corners very flat. Every sports sedan should both ride and handle this well. Altogether, the car feels lighter and nimbler than its 3,800-pound curb weight suggests.

The ride quality pairs well with a surprisingly quiet and isolated cabin. Though Alfa makes the Giulia Quadrofoglio Verde’s hood, roof, and front seats out of carbon-fiber, it didn’t strip out all the sound insulation. The cabin is shockingly quiet at freeway speeds, only beginning to pick up some wind noise at 90 mph. This and a demeanor that obscures the feeling of speed until triple digits makes it very easy to find yourself doing well over the speed limit without realizing it. Lay into it and open the automatic dual-mode exhaust and you’re treated to a moderately loud exhaust note best likened to a three-liter chainsaw with a blow-off valve.

The aforementioned carbon-fiber seats are, despite appearances, quite comfortable. The bolstering is big and purposeful and does a very good job of restraining you on the track, but remains comfortable cruising on the street. The rear seats are actually more of a compromise, as they sit quite inboard and require climbing over a big wheel well hump to get in and out. Once you’re in there, you’ll enjoy plenty of shoulder and knee room, though the headroom is a bit pinched if you order the double sunroof and a big driveshaft tunnel means the middle seat is mostly useless.

Front or back, you’ll be treated with a stylish and nicely appointed interior. Leather is standard on all Giulias, and it’s rich soft stuff. It’s also on the dash and doors and features accent stitching. The dashboard design is interesting and original, featuring a frameless infotainment screen which disappears into the surrounding black panel when you turn it off. The software itself is a bit layered, but if you can figure out systems from German automakers, you’ll pick this one up fairly quickly. The rotary controller itself feels cheap, as if it’s about to pop right off in your hands.

Up in front of the driver is another display between the gauges, which presents some odd design choices. Big, important numbers are displayed in easy to read white, but accompanying information which gives those numbers context is displayed in dark gray that my 20/20 eyes can barely make out against the black background. There’s also an instantaneous fuel economy display that operates opposite every other one the world (save BMW’s equally silly needle), with the bar graph getting smaller as fuel economy improves rather than larger.

As long as we’re talking interior comfort, we should talk about the standard 2017 Giulia. The car’s roof is steel, its hood aluminum, its seats made of metal (though it does keep the carbon-fiber driveshaft). It’s also got a 2.0-liter turbo-four making 280 hp and 306 lb-ft. It’s a stout little number, delivering V-6 performance with a much more linear response than the V-6 (though it still turbo lags a bit down low). Alfa says it’ll do 5.1 seconds to 60, compared to the V-6’s 3.8, and I believe both numbers. Like the V-6, the turbo-four is at its best at high rpm, where it sounds pretty good for a turbo four-banger. Again like the V-6, the enthusiast driver will want to keep it in Dynamic mode all the time for the throttle and transmission response. As with the V-6, there’s no way to turn off the engine auto engine start-stop system, which will annoy some people.

The best news about the standard and Ti Giulias is they still handle like the Quadrofoglio, to a point. It’s the same great chassis, held back by all-season tires that scream bloody murder if you’re even moderately aggressive in a corner. Best to spec the Sport package if you want to have any fun. Either way, the fixed dampers ride about the same as the Quadrofoglio in Natural mode (all cars get the DNA selector, but only Quadrofoglios get Race mode). The steel brakes are still strong, though they suffer the same lack of feel.

Because you have to work a little harder for the speed, you notice it more in the standard Giulia, so you’ll less likely to end up doing 90 mph without realizing it. Still, it’s a quiet and isolated environment the average commuter could enjoy sitting in traffic in. The standard seats are less aggressive and more comfort oriented, though they’re still well-bolstered. No matter how little you choose to spend, you’ll still get real, quality leather, so there’s no base model in the traditional sense.

After such a long gestation and so many promises, the 2017 Alfa Romeo Giulia can’t help but suffer from the weight of expectations. Alfa Romeo is an enthusiast’s brand, and we want to believe in it, just the same as we want the Giulia to be the perfect sports sedan. Despite what Disney and auto magazines tell you, though, no love is perfect, and the Giulia has its warts. The good news is that the Giulia, especially the Quadrofoglio Verde, is so good at its primary mission that we’re mostly willing to forgive its failings. Still, if the mid-cycle refresh showed up with a manual transmission, an anti-lag system, some steering feel, and some kind of force feedback in the brake pedal, we’d about wet ourselves. Until then, though, we’ll love the Giulia for what it is and not the fairy tale we were sold.

The post 2017 Alfa Romeo Giulia First Drive: Romeo and Giulia appeared first on Motor Trend.

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