Rather than slap logos all over, Volvo has done things differently in the performance Euro SUV domain: discretion.

I've never driven the hotted up X3 M or X5 M (yet, anyway), nor Audi's SQ lot, but I have punted an AMG ML63 and the XC60 Polestar wants to throw punches in the same ring. It certainly does in price at 100k.

I was a bit concerned in this week long test drive (courtesy of Volvo Australia) that it might feel like sending Bjorn to fight German MMA fighter Nick "Sargent" Hein.

I mean, the Swedes aren't exactly known globally for slipping on the gloves and floating/stinging like butterflies/bees. Except maybe one.

Dolph.

But actually, there was a chap, a long time ago, named Ingrmar “Ingo” Johanssen, who was the world heavyweight boxing champion from 1959-60. He won the title flooring an even bigger American dude named Floyd.

So it is actually possible for a Swede to put a Yank on his face. And that’s what we have here. (I say Yank because the ML is built in Alabama. German engine, sure, but for the sake of the story…)

Then there’s Sarah Sjöström who, at the 2016 Rio Olympics, was the first Swedish women to win gold for the 100m butterfly setting a record 55.48s lap. Oh, and Lisbeth Salander is quite capable of smacking a Russian around.

Plenty make jokes, but Sweden is quite capable of holding it’s own. Even their fighter jets are legendary.

Need I talk about how good SAABs were?

Anywho. The XC60 Polestar does what most hyper SUVs fail to do. Remain SUVs. They become so obsessed with muscles, noise, inciting fear and intimidation that they become grotesque behemoths. Like Hyde outgrowing Dr Jekyll. They lose the elegance, which, being big vehicles, they should be fighting to retain. The Macan does this quite well, although the name is a bit “Meh” for mine.

The 60 Polestar never stops epitomising comfortable, in any drive mode, in any gear, at any speed, regardless of how hard you’re braking, how paint-melting hot it is outside, or how slow the traffic is.

Especially impressive was the dual zone air conditioning which, when you’re lugging a pram, car seat, nappy bag full of more food and toys than just disposables, was a quick-working haven from the ferocious heat of December. Wasn’t expecting that from a cold climate car.

Installing said car seat was relatively easy in that situation. I expected it to be cramped and things in weird places. But nigh. The top tether is easy to locate without having to fully extend the strap or my go-go Gadget telescopic arms. The isofix points are not hidden by covers or tucked right down underneath the seat back, and the boot floor as at a good height to chuck pram/gear/luggage. The powered tailgate also closes quickly, unlike some.

The key to this Patrick Bateman style dignified psychopath routine is the plug-in hybrid system, which feels seamless and smooth as it assists the petrol engine.

When I say assist, that’s because it adds 65kW and 269Nm of torque to the petrol engine’s 246kW and 430Nm: already some serious figures.

So that’s 311kW and 699Nm. Not that you can really combine power outputs like that.

Goodness gracious, it’ll do 0-100km/h in 5.2 seconds. In a 2.1 tonne seven seater. Just in case it really matters to you (and it definitely shouldn’t) the ML63 does it in 4.8. Whoop-di-doo, right?

At you don’t look like vulgar in your Polestar.

On the rare occasion you find yourself racing through the Snowy Mountains in some kind of action movie where rules and reality don’t matter, you can (ask your dealer to) manually adjust the Öhlins dampers for a more racy, harder, hunkered down posture through the bends.

But be careful, because this kind of tamed, ridiculously comfortable speed, easily within the 60P’s remit, might actually leave you with the automotive equivalent of The Bends. That’s like when a motoring journo tells you they didn’t want to return the press car or actually bought one themselves.

I’m pleased to report it seems Volvo has broken the stereotype shackles which, once upon a time, relegated them to pensioner jokes and piss-takes about hip replacements on Aussie backroads.

And you do notice the difference if you’ve got enough worry-free spare time to dedicate to listening to your accelerometer and yaw-sensing arse. I don’t have such liberty.

I spent a week with Dolph and, despite being smooth, modest in this lovely silver, it draws the odd glance as they wonder what it is. ‘That noise couldn’t have come from a Volvo, could it?’

Also helping Dolph stand out somewhat, without doing it like a sore thumb, is the very select drops of honeycomb yellow on just a couple of places, the chunky brake calipers behind the five Y-spoke CNC machined alloys, and the seatbelts. They’re 21 inches by the way. Not quite the full Range Rover Pimp Special, but that’s only for the better. And they are endowed with super low-profile Pirelli P-Zero tyres which grip like that bear which jumped Leo DiCaprio.

It’s a clever touch. If you’re shopping in this domain of high luxury, big SUV, it’s important to consider what the brand itself is emitting and for me at least, less is more. The Polestar understatement is what appeals most.

You get the glitter and raw pace delivered unequivocally – sometimes it’s even more than you were expecting – such is the breadth of Dolph’s performance. But being able to take a step back from the “look at me, I’m larger than life” spotlight is worth more than shouting like an AMG. And I’m not throwing stones at a vocal ML, because there’s an eight-year-old cavekid inside me as well; I get it. In fact I wasn’t embarrassed at its 5.5-litre V8 throat clearing start-up procedure. I just like the silky veil the Polestar wears instead.

Dolph, the actual Swedish action anti-hero is more than just muscles and boxing gloves. He’s a chemical engineer and, at least in The Expendables, has a fascination with knives. Knives are quiet but deadly in the right hands.

In the same way, I love the elongated rotary twist switch for starting this beast up, and the scrolling wheel for selecting between normal comfort mode, the all-electric eco-mode and the full Gunnar Jensen knife-wielding borderline sociopath mode.

Squeeze the throttle and you slingshot down the road in a way disproportionately quick for its size with much the same pace of the ML63, only more in the fashion of an electric motorcycle with surgical efficiency.

The big dark alloys look stunning and the Crunchie gold calipers, made by a mob you’ve never heard of (but that’s okay, they’re awesome brakes). Those brakes tell the world this SUV has a venomous bite. There is a hint of that electric car brake whine when you’re in full EV mode, but its minimal.

This car is not perfect, it is a bit awkward trying to find some controls for air con and switch between phone, nav and various media, but that is probably a nuance you’d quickly learn to adapt to. I only had a week.

Connecting my phone was dead easy too; and I’m a bit shit when it comes to ‘getting’ technology. For what it’s worth, I didn’t get a chance to actually plug-in and monitor what the battery system does, but it’s safe to say it works, sending electrical drive to the rear wheels in tandem with the petrol engine’s front-drive bias.

Some loud-mouth Canadian ‘motoring journalists’ have criticised this in performance driving on the public road, but it goes without saying this isn’t a race car, nor should you be punting it like one on the public road. If you drive with a bit of spirit here and there, and not like a knuckle-dragging moron, you’ll really enjoy the pliable nature of the electric rear and front-petrol all-wheel drive system. Heck, you’ll even be able to drive straight up to the snow without having to rent chains.

Overall however, there isn’t much to dislike here. Even the boot is a decent size at a good height for lifting in and out, minus the pulled discs.

There are plenty who will say the Polestar XC60 can’t live up to the brute force of an AMG or the hammer-blow X5 M or a stealth-bomber SQ7. But that’s missing the point of the Polestar thing. Do you want to smash rocks with sledge hammers or hit bullseyes with silenced sniper rifles?

Like Dolph’s silent-but-deadly hunting knives, Sjöström’s elegant seal-like feet or Lisbeth’s unassuming stature and cunning, thanks to the XC60 Polestar’s sleeper hybrid powerplant and classy road-hugging packaging, you don’t see or hear it coming.