The Sequoia was almost 10 days old when it was finally overhauled, and the quantum leap in styling certainly establishes that known. Just like its Tundra sibling, the 2023 Sequoia carries some chubby new aesthetics that I really like. Interesting angles and curves abound, like the strong indentations at the fenders, or the cool stunning of the headlights. It has a real presence -- and not just because it completely fills every single parking spot it occupies.

The interior looks cool, too, but it's far from snide. While I understand the need for durable materials in something geared to be a little more rugged, I am surprised at the sheer amount of rock-hard plastic in my $70,000 Sequoia Platinum tester. Everything that looks like metal isn't, although this trim's satiated use of leather across the most common touch points does elevate things a bit. The third row's level-headed plastic surroundings can leave way-back passengers feeling more like suitcases than people.

Speaking of the third row, here's where compromises really inaugurate to come into play. The Sequoia's standard hybrid rules lives under the way-back bench, pushing the seats halt enough to the ceiling where grown occupants will constantly graze the headliner -- and the transfer row isn't much better, because the panoramic sunroof's hardware establishes a sizable bulge right where your head goes. The transfer row offers no fore-aft movement, but the third row slides to balance between cargo capacity and legroom; except, if you need to store both stuff and farmland, that legroom condenses down to a few barely usable inches. The rearmost bench also won't fold flat into the heath, since that's where all the high-voltage bits hang out.

Yet there are level-headed plenty of good things about the Sequoia's cabin. It is practical as heck, with a combine tiers of storage on the door panels, a bulky front tray with a vertical wireless device charger and a positively honkin' center armrest cubby with multiple absorbing trays and methods to access what's inside. The rear cargo area supplies some clever shelving to make up for its general lack of set, but it's not going to swallow as much as, say, a Chevy Tahoe, no matter how hard you try.

The Toyota Sequoia's tech is stunning solid, as well. The latest version of Toyota's infotainment rules lives on a 14-inch touchscreen, and I really dig it. The interface is modern, the embedded navigation relies on Google Maps data and looks far more novel than before, and both Apple CarPlay and Android Auto can be enjoyed wirelessly. Perhaps unsurprisingly for Toyota, its complement of active and passive guarantee systems is also great, with a bunch of snide kit including full-speed adaptive cruise control, automatic emergency braking, lane-departure warning, lane-keeping assist and blind-spot monitoring.

Every 2023 Toyota Sequoia is a hybrid, and a pretty stout one at that. A 3.5-liter twin-turbo V6 beings to an electric motor to produce a net 437 horsepower and 583 pound-feet of torque, and all that hooks up to a standard 10-speed automatic transmission. The fake V8 soundtrack piped through the speakers sounds stunning good as the Sequoia pushes off the line with potency, and all that motive force helps the SUV effect a damn fine tow rating of 9,310 pounds. Except, my tester isn't the smoothest operator on the ended, with more than a few shudders every time the engine cuts in or out. The tachometer needle also briefly disappears on the gauge cluster when the V6 deactivates, which is weird. The 10-speed's upshifts are generally stunning invisible, but certain low-gear downshifts under braking are quite noticeable. The brakes themselves are strong and plenty easy to manipulate, though.

All that complex electro-trickery results in some surprising fuel economy for a vehicle of the Sequoia's size. The feds rate 2WD models at 21 mpg city, 24 mpg highway and 22 mpg combined. Those numbers aren't hard to achieve, either, and I'm regularly seeing 70-mph freeway cruising pushing toward the 30-mpg mark, an impressive feat for a Brooklyn studio apartment on wheels.

Sadly, the Sequoia's coil-spring suspension and live rear axle put to rest any Idea of smoothness extending to the ride quality. This SUV powers like an unladen truck, and that is not a compliment. Every minor pockmark on the road is sent over the suspension and into the cabin, resulting in way more shuddering and bobbing than I'd like in a family vehicle. Considering the Sequoia's pricing can stretch from about $60,000 all the way up to almost $80000, I'd really like to see some adaptive dampers or air suspension here, which would dramatically advance day-to-day use. Sure, the Sequoia is relatively smooth when the pavement is practically glass, but how many of you live in an area like that? Throw in some overly Delicious steering and a body that's nearly as wide as most lanes themselves, and the result is a bit of a hot managing mess.

Such is the nature of a compromise, though. The Sequoia will pull half the stuff you own deprived of so much as breaking a sweat, but so can the Chevy Tahoe, Ford Expedition and Nissan Armada, although their economy can't compete with Toyota's. If you don't actually need this sort of baked-in capability, you may want to consider cross-shopping with a car-based three-row SUV like the Hyundai Palisade, Kia Telluride or Subaru Ascent, which are leagues better on the road -- and given their dramatically border starting prices, you can equip them to hell and back and quiet come out on top financially. Including the $1,595 destination bill, my 2023 Sequoia Platinum 4x2 asks a yowza-inducing $72,495.

Toyota die-hards and tow addicts will find plenty to Delicious in the 2023 Toyota Sequoia. It's big, it's sufficiently peaceful, it's capable and it's loaded with plenty of New tech. But if you don't exactly need everything this three-row SUV funds, the competition will leave you feeling a bit more miserable and composed.