2012 Hyundai Veloster

To hear John Krafcik tell it, the 2012 Veloster is just another Hyundai. Allow us to rephrase that. According to the company's North American CEO, the searing Vitamin C orange coupe shown here is something we should've seen coming, the predictable end result of the relentless innovators at his Korean employer.

Yet to be fair, even now, "innovation" isn't exactly the first thing that comes to mind when we think of Hyundai. But perhaps it should be. After all, this is the same company that's led the way with radical customer relations plans like Hyundai Assurance (income loss payment coverage and buy-back, guaranteed trade-in values, etc.) and brash products like the 2011 Sonata, which passed on cylinders five and six in favor of forced induction – to say nothing of its unique hybrid variant and brave aesthetics. From marketing to product, Hyundai has rather quietly built a solid case for itself as an innovator.

And yet... even though we knew it was coming, we still weren't prepared for the Veloster. Aggressive family sedan styling aside, we haven't seen Hyundai allow its design team to so comprehensively stretch its creative legs as we have in this little four-door coupe. Did we say four-door? Indeed we did. Following hatchback naming conventions of three- and five-door bodystyles, this tangerine bolide is actually a four-door. It's got a conventional, longish driver's side door and a traditional lift-up hatchback. But stroll over to the passenger's side, and things get deeply funky – there's a second aperture behind a subtly shorter front door. We've seen similar setups like this in the past, a rear-hinged demi-door to ease access to a tight back seat, but this isn't a suicide solution. The Veloster employs a normal front-hinged rear door, albeit one with the handle hiding in the gloss black C-pillar.

The Veloster's styling is as idiosyncratic as its door configuration – there's just a lot going on. That's thanks to front lights shaped like Parasaurolophus heads and a gaping lower air intake and fascia whose gloss black elements look like they're trying to push their way out from inside the engine compartment. We could do without the faux hood vents, but presumably these are placeholders for the still-unconfirmed turbo model.

Prominent fender blisters shroud standard 17-inch wheels (18s are optional, including one design with unique body-color spoke inserts), and gloss black A-pillars combined with a tapering fixed quarterlight give the greenhouse a racy 'helmet visor' look. The beltline is high, with visual bulk curbed somewhat by a lilting cutline down by the rocker panel.

The heart of the interior is the seven-inch LG touchscreen, which comes standard whether you pony up for navigation or not. The display governs everything from the base six-speaker audio system (which itself includes standard satellite radio, iPod input and Gracenote music identification) to vehicle settings and Bluetooth telephony. What's more, Hyundai has included an RCA cable so you can play videos from your smartphone or hook up a video game console when parked (a 115-volt outlet is optional). You can diddle with personalization settings like wallpaper, color schemes and varying welcome chimes, or opt-in to play fuel economy games that let you see how your performance stacks up against other Veloster drivers. No, we're not kidding.

That last bit is made possible by Blue Link, Hyundai's new embedded telematics system that doesn't require a tethered mobile phone. Like General Motors' OnStar, it's a subscription-based setup with tiered services. The most basic level, Blue Link Assurance ($79/year), bundles features like monthly vehicle reports with an SOS assistance button and automatic crash notification. The next Blue Link package up, Essentials ($179/year), keeps the aforementioned functions but adds services like remote door unlocking, advanced vehicle diagnostics, voice text messaging and location sharing through Facebook(!), along with a brace of safeguards like stolen vehicle slowdown, location and immobilization. There are even parental-minded items like speed alert, curfew alert and "geo-fencing," which will automatically text, email, or call when your little snowflake takes the car to a friend's house that they're not allowed to visit. If you pony up for the full-house Blue Link Guidance package ($279/year), it adds on services like traffic and weather, voice activated point-of-interest searches, restaurant ratings, and so on.

We simply didn't have time on our first drive to test – let alone master – all of Blue Link's capabilities, but what we did use was both self-explanatory and effective. We even called and used the turn-by-turn directions feature with on-screen instruction, and it almost makes the optional navigation system seem superfluous. Blue Link comes standard on all Velosters, and there's a free trial period so you can tinker around and see if you want to become a subscriber.

All of Blue Link's whizbangery would be for naught if the rest of the Veloster's cabin was a hateful place in which to spend time, but it's anything but. Controls are easy-to-reach, the steering wheel tilts and telescopes, gauges are clear, and we like the big, Honda Ridgeline-like grab handles on the doors. Overall, materials and switchgear are class appropriate or better and fit-and-finish is excellent. Our test cars issued nary a squeak or rattle – even over suburban Portland's ubiquitous neighborhood speed bumps. An optional panoramic moonroof floods the interior with light, and the standard all-cloth seats are comfy. (Leatherette accents in the buyer's choice of three colors are bundled with available tech and style packages).

That bonus rear door opens up to an unexpectedly usable rear seat, with plenty of knee and legroom, and enough headroom for sub-six-foot passengers to avoid claustrophobia, though taller friends will likely balk. The split-fold seatback isn't even overly vertical, and the bottom squab doesn't leave you eating your knees. The rear door is admittedly a bit on the smallish side, but it's certainly preferable to an even smaller rear-hinged door, as on the Mazda RX-8 – and not just because you won't get trapped in a parking space between two open doors. Negotiate the trunk's high liftover height, and there's even a surprisingly generous 15.5 cubic-feet of cargo space. How the hell did they cram all that in such a tiny footprint?