I felt a bit like Al Capone last week.

The cops were paying me a lot of attention. So was everyone else.

It was the wheels, mac.

PT Cruiser. A car to cruise the mean streets. To get respect on the boulevard. To make a point.

That you’re not afraid to be different, babe.

The Cruiser is wheels in a zoot suit. A forceful front with an uncompromising rear. A motor with a message. You’re going places, buddy, and you don’t need a sultry brunette on your arm to arrive.

And if you really have to tote the bootleg booze as well as the boozers, all will arrive at the speakeasy in style.

A style born in the thirties. But regenerated rather than restored. The best of the old world, married late to today’s future. And uncompromising in its underskin modernity.

Cruiser is for the post-homogenous age. An antidote against attempts to make the car an anti-social indulgence, an in-your-face finger to people like Dublin’s traffic ‘supremo’, cyclist Owen Keegan.

Cruiser says for its owner: ‘I’m proud to own and drive a car. To be free to go where I want, when I want’. Cruiser puts its big bumper assertively to the front instead of being led by lacklustre Luasers or browbeaten bussers.

Cruiser makes you a soldier set to bring the street back for the motorist.

Bodywise, the thirties cues are just those - style elements reworked into a thoroughly modern means of carrying people in comfort and flexibility.

That massive radiator grille is a frontal feature which ensures that if a Cruiser is cominatcha, you’ll know it.

The wheel arches snugly incorporated into the overall metalwork are sculpted to contain the thoroughly today teardrop headlights, but don’t intrude into engine bay volume or passenger elbow room. Vestigial mouldings remind of running boards no longer necessary for the shoes mudscraping required with thirties unmetalled roads.

The large rear door is virtually vertical, giving an almost-estate car capacity without actually turning the Cruiser into a wagon shape. It rests on a bumper as massive as that on the front, which can become a roofed bench on which to spend time sitting in fresh air during temporarily inclement weather either at a sporting event or on a picnic.

The winged Chrysler badge is straight from the earlier days of the motif, while the pushbutton full-chromed doorhandles are more fifties, but reassuringly solid, reflecting the overall ethos of the car.

Inside is all velour and upright, but comfortable and high-seated for visibility and ease of access even for us over-50s. Painted metal is also retro but only occurrs in stylistic patches. The instrument pods are cheerful and informative, the steering wheel big and leather, and the tall short-throw gearshifter is topped by a ball that might well be Bakelite but is probably some much more modern plastic.

We had the Cruiser at a time when full passengers loads had to be carried because of a family event. It accommodated all of us with ease, and carried us easily along the old Woolpack Road, for those of us who know it to be the best way of beating the current all-too-regular Naas Road gridlocks.

The 140bhp 2-litre engine which is the only powerplant available until next year’s turbodiesel option is not a firelighter, but does allow comfortable cruising and requires not too much rowing through the gearbox unless you really need to get it up to the 4100rpm torque peak spot for more aggressive acceleration. It returns about 33mpg in the combined cycle in manual form (an autobox is available which brings that figure down to around 28mpg ... which was, btw, what we used to get out of the 1.6-litre Ford Consul in which I learned to drive).

The gearshift is snicky and sweet, once you get used to the LHD bias in an RHD car. Because of the tall seat, the pedals are all comfortable to use even in slow traffic.

The flexibility of seat and load-carrying options in the Cruiser rival a full MPV, except that only two rows of seats are available in this cross between a compact MPV and a largish car. Some of the details, like the multi-level options of the rear compartment cover, are exceptionally clever and useful, and very simple.

There are downsides. The turning circle feels on the large side. The rear visibility is rather compromised by the middle back headrest (one which could be slid down into the seat would be better). The all-disc brakes, good to stop the car on the road, meant that I was nearly caught out a couple of times because the handbrake didn’t hold well on an incline even after a hefty pull on the lever.

(The current Ford Mondeo also suffers from that last. The only peace-of-mind solution is to leave the car in first or reverse gear when parking on an incline.)

And the price could be problematical. At a tad over £25,000, we have a car cruising close to the luxury or exciting end of the buying spectrum. The Cruiser is not luxury, even if it does have aircon as standard. It is not exactly exciting, and the same money would buy a much more driver-satisfying Alfa 156. So, like the new BMW Mini and the VW Beetle, Chrysler is selling a lifestyle statement. And in this VRT-afflicted country, charging for it.

Take your choice. Decide on your needs, and feelings.

But, Oh Gosh, if you feel even remotely interested in the Cruiser, do take it for an afternoon’s drive. It could just well be the start of the kind of relationship with one’s car which is almost a thing of the past. Almost not allowed, even.

And if Al Capone had been able to drive a Cruiser, he might not have ended up bad. Even Owen Keegan might have found salvation.