IN the Johnny Cash song “A Boy Named Sue,” the protagonist is inspired by the revelation that his deadbeat dad gave him that awful name because, “I knew you’d have to get tough or die.”

Perhaps that’s the rationale for saddling the otherwise appealing 2008 Land Rover LR2 with a rather unappealing name.

Yes, the LR2’s stablemate, the LR3, carries an equally mundane designation. But the anonymity that comes with such a cipher of a label has helped the LR3 remain somewhat under the radar as it has compiled one of the auto industry’s lamest reliability records. Time will tell whether the LR2 transcends its potentially fateful family ties (Swedish engineering, Ford penny-pinching, British “reliability”) or is destined like the LR3 to remain a bottom-feeder in J. D. Power’s quality ratings.

At least the LR2 wasn’t named Freelander, after the model it succeeds. That name, and the troubled model to which it was attached, had even more baggage. In what may have been the final nail in the Freelander’s coffin, at least in the United States, The Associated Press mistakenly called it the “Freeloader.” (Outside North America, the LR2 will be called Freelander 2.)

The LR2 is one of those clean-sheet-of-paper designs, which means, a Land Rover engineer assured me, “It shares not a single part with the outgoing Freelander.” Doesn’t that sound like a catchy advertising slogan?

The Freeload, er, Freelander arrived in the colonies in 2001; its sales peaked the next year at 15,000 units. Oblivion gradually followed, as with each sale it alienated another customer — not just from the reliability-challenged Freelander, but from the entire Land Rover brand.

Likewise, the larger LR3, which replaced the Discovery, was meant to lure back some of the disgruntled former owners that the Discovery’s quality gremlins had chased away, but its high price (relative to the Discovery) and comparably appalling reliability caused even more defections.

Somewhat surprisingly, overall sales for the Land Rover brand are robust, thanks to the top-end Range Rover and Range Rover Sport models so adored by the landed gentry.

As the brand’s latest good-will ambassador, the LR2 looks the part. The upright greenhouse, broad shoulders and fender gills scream Land Rover; the LR2 also retains some Freelander cues, particularly at the front.

The LR2 is Land Rover’s only car-based utility vehicle; it is built on Ford Motor’s new EUCD platform, a derivative of the C1 platform for midsize automobiles. Volvo has done extensive subsequent engineering on EUCD, the structure that currently underpins the Volvo S80. Contrary to some reports, this platform is not shared by the Ford Escape or Mazda Tribute, although redesigned 2009 Escapes and Tributes will use it.

This platform has a lower center of gravity than the old Freelander chassis. But larger wheels and tires cause a tiny overall increase in the LR2’s tipping point. A wider track, however, offsets the gravity issue. In short, the LR2 feels a lot more firmly planted than the Freelander did.

In my testing, the LR2 rode rock solid, and there are reasons for that: a longer wheelbase, a 40 percent improvement in torsional rigidity, a fully independent suspension and quick rack-and-pinion steering (only 2.6 turns lock-to-lock). Land Rover says it tested and tuned the LR2’s handling at the Nürburgring racetrack in Germany.

The steering felt a bit heavy — Land Rover confirmed that this was intentional — but I prefer a little resistance in wheeling around a heavy-duty vehicle. Through high-speed corners, the steering maintained a consistent line, without constant need for driver adjustments. Body lean and sway were remarkably minimal, at least for a Land Rover.

Among entry-level luxury S.U.V.’s, the LR2’s handling should be competitive, although the BMW X3 remains the class valedictorian.

The most controversial factor is the LR2’s all-wheel-drive capability. “A Land Rover must always have best-in-class off-road performance,” said Greg Gilliland, an engineer for the vehicle. With that in mind, Land Rover decided LR2 could still be best in class even without a low-range transfer case.

To some, this seems like blasphemy, and it would be in any other Land Rover. But the LR2, more likely to take on Crate & Barrel than the sands of the Kalahari, really doesn’t need ultimate off-road-ability. If you need that, buy a bigger Land Rover. Otherwise, get over it.

On road, the LR2 is essentially a front-drive vehicle. Minimal power is fed to the rear wheels unless a need for better traction suddenly dictates a transfer to the rear. For off-roading, the LR2 has a modified version of Land Rover’s Terrain Response system, with settings for loose surfaces like gravel, mud or snow. But it is missing the rock-climbing setting offered on other Land Rovers — an omission not likely to be noticed.

What is likely to be noticed is this: The stock 235/60VR18 all-season tires aren’t suitable for boulder-busting (or much else, besides pavement), and the limited-use spare is a poor backup. Consider tougher tires and a real spare if you aim to take the roads less traveled.

Otherwise, the LR2’s off-road stats are adequate: 8.3 inches of front axle clearance, a 29-degree approach and 32-degree departure angles, and a fording depth of nearly 20 inches. A feature called Gradient Release Control improves traction while descending steep, slippery surfaces.

The LR2 gets much improved power from its transverse-mounted 3.2-liter in-line 6, the engine I like so much in the new Volvo S80. The engine delivers 230 horsepower and 234 pound-feet of torque — a decent combination of power and grunt. It accelerated to 60 m.p.h. in 8.4 seconds despite the LR2’s considerable 4,255-pound curb weight.

I averaged a little over 20 m.p.g. in spirited driving. (Land Rover recommends premium fuel.) The six-speed automatic transmission offers manual shifting and a sport mode. Throttle response is strong in each gear’s lower ranges, especially in manual mode.

Inside, the LR2 feels like penthouse living compared with Cellblock Freelander, which had worst-in-class interior space. For one thing, a lower dashboard eases the claustrophobic feel of the Freelander.

Cargo space is tight, at just 59 cubic feet. Thanks to standard leather seats with plush padding, large bolsters and well-placed armrests, seating for four is luxuriously comfortable. (A fifth, but far less comfortable, seating position is created by raising the rear seat’s center console.)

Other standard features include a nine-speaker stereo, a double moonroof and an array of comforts, all for a fairly reasonable $34,700.

Land Rover’s pricing theory is that a stripped-down LR2 would lower residual values even for the fancy versions. So the company simplified the manufacturing process and equipped the vehicle with luxury and safety features (including seven air bags) that people really want.

The only options are a $3,500 Technology Package (navigation system, satellite radio and an ear-splitting 7.1 surround-sound Alpine stereo system with 14 speakers); a $1,050 Lighting Package (with bi-xenon adaptive headlights that turn with the wheels); a $700 cold climate package; and $400 for special paint.

By comparison, the BMW X3’s sticker price is $38,775. The Acura RDX, with a 4-cylinder turbocharged engine, starts at $33,665.

Though the LR2 is about $7,000 more than the Freelander, that S.U.V. didn’t deserve the Land Rover name; the LR2 does.

Maybe the LR2 will, after all, make a name for itself.