Review: Genesis GV60 Advanced RWD

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There is a problem with electric cars.

Apparently, none of them are allowed to be simply enough.

Every new EV seems to arrive with another increasingly ridiculous number attached to it. Three hundred kilowatts. Four hundred kilowatts. Five hundred kilowatts. Zero to 100km/h in four seconds. Three seconds. Two-point-something seconds.

Performance figures that, not particularly long ago, belonged exclusively to things wearing Lamborghini badges.

And that's impressive. Of course it is. But somewhere along the way, we've apparently decided that every family-sized electric vehicle needs enough acceleration to temporarily alter the position of your internal organs.

Which brings us to the 2026 Genesis GV60 Advanced.

It has one electric motor driving the rear wheels, producing 168kW and 350Nm, and takes 7.8 seconds to reach 100km/h.

In 2026 EV terms?

That almost sounds...

Slow.

Except after living with it, something strange happened.

I never really wanted more.

Enough

That's the word I kept coming back to.

Enough.

Put your foot down and the GV60 moves with the immediate smoothness we've come to expect from electric cars. There's no gearbox deciding what it wants to do, no engine waiting for boost and no revs to build. Just 350Nm arriving cleanly through the rear wheels.

Is it violent? No.

Does your passenger's phone disappear into the rear footwell every time you leave the lights? Probably not.

But it moves.

Put it into Sport mode and things sharpen slightly. The accelerator becomes more responsive, there's a little more urgency and you remember that the motor is driving the rear wheels.

But then something else happens.

You stop caring.

Because there's something about the atmosphere inside the GV60 Advanced that doesn't make you want to race anyone.

You sink into the seat. Everything becomes quiet. The cabin feels expensive, the suspension settles into its rhythm and you put some music on. Rather than searching through menus looking for the most aggressive setting available, you simply drive.

And suddenly 168kW feels completely adequate.

Not because the GV60 Advanced is secretly fast. It isn't. But because nothing about this particular version makes you feel like it needs to be.

Perhaps that's what a luxury EV should be.

Not constantly asking:

"Want to see how fast I am?"

But quietly asking:

"Are you comfortable?"

What's Changed?

Quite a lot, actually.

The updated GV60 returns to Australia with a substantially simplified range. At one end sits this, the GV60 Advanced. At the other sits something considerably more unhinged: the GV60 Magma.

We'll get to that one separately.

Trust us.

We're looking forward to it.

For now, the important thing is that the Advanced takes a very different approach from the GV60s Australians previously knew. The old range was all-wheel drive, while the new Advanced uses a single rear-mounted electric motor and rear-wheel drive.

It also receives a larger 84kWh nickel-manganese-cobalt battery, replacing the previous 77.4kWh unit, increasing range substantially in the process.

And perhaps most importantly?

It's cheaper.

Significantly cheaper.

Price

The 2026 Genesis GV60 Advanced starts at $88,300 before on-road costs.

Now, eighty-eight grand is still eighty-eight grand. Nobody is accidentally buying one while popping into Woolworths for milk.

But importantly, the updated Advanced is around $15,000 cheaper than the previous entry point into the GV60 range. That's substantial, and Genesis needed to do something because the electric vehicle market has changed extraordinarily quickly.

Chinese manufacturers have arrived with increasingly sophisticated EVs offering enormous screens, huge equipment lists, strong performance and competitive range for considerably less money. Meanwhile, established premium manufacturers including BMW, Audi, Mercedes-Benz and Lexus occupy the other side of the conversation.

Genesis therefore sits in an interesting position.

It can't simply be cheap.

It isn't.

Instead, it has to convince you that there's value in luxury.

And that brings us inside.

The Cabin

This is where the GV60 makes its strongest argument, because Genesis understands interiors.

We've said this before. We'll almost certainly say it again.

There are plenty of cars that give you enormous screens, ambient lighting, wireless charging and approximately eleven billion selectable colours for the interior illumination. But luxury isn't simply the number of things fitted to a car.

It's how the whole environment makes you feel.

And the GV60 feels...

Lovely.

Soft-touch materials are everywhere. Leather runs across the dashboard and doors. There's interesting detailing rather than endless expanses of black plastic, the switchgear feels considered and the seats are genuinely comfortable.

More importantly, there's enough visual theatre to remind you that Genesis didn't simply take an ordinary Hyundai interior and replace the badge.

It feels different.

Special.

And, importantly, expensive.

The Crystal Sphere

Then there's this thing.

The Crystal Sphere.

Genesis could have fitted a conventional rotary gear selector. It would have worked perfectly well, occupied very little space and nobody would have complained.

Genesis apparently thought that sounded terribly boring.

So when the GV60 is switched off, a beautifully illuminated glass sphere sits in the centre console. Press the start button and the entire thing rotates through 180 degrees, disappearing into the console and presenting the rotary gear selector on its other side.

Necessary?

Absolutely not.

Do I like it?

Absolutely.

But perhaps the best endorsement came from my two young daughters.

They were fascinated by it.

Every time we got into the GV60 there was anticipation. Press the button, the sphere rotates, the gear selector appears and apparently starting Dad's test car is now an event.

Watching their reaction made me appreciate something about the GV60 that I'd probably have stopped noticing after a few days.

There's theatre here.

Not fake exhaust noises or some ridiculous launch sequence. Just a completely unnecessary little piece of mechanical choreography that makes starting the car feel slightly special.

That's what good luxury design sometimes is. Not something you need, but something that makes you smile precisely because you don't need it.

And if Genesis is ever tempted to delete the Crystal Sphere in the name of cost saving, my two tiny automotive consultants have voted.

Absolutely bloody not.

Thank you, Genesis.

Keep it.

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Screens and Technology

The updated GV60 gets a huge 27-inch OLED panoramic display, combining the digital instrumentation and infotainment into one sweeping piece of glass.

Visually, it's excellent. Crisp, modern and beautifully integrated. That's important because we're currently going through an automotive phase where manufacturers seem to be competing over who can glue the largest television to a dashboard.

Genesis has at least made its screen feel like part of the interior.

There's satellite navigation, connected functionality, wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, plus a wireless phone charger.

And yes.

Wireless Apple CarPlay.

Leapmotor C10, please take notes.

The GV60 also retains dedicated climate controls beneath the main display rather than forcing you to conduct a small archaeological expedition through touchscreen menus every time you'd like to change the temperature.

There are proper window switches, normal mirror controls and conventional indicator and wiper stalks.

Imagine that.

We've apparently reached the point where being able to operate a car without consulting a touchscreen deserves praise.

Thank you, Genesis.

Seats and Storage

Both front seats offer 12-way electric adjustment, along with heating and ventilation.

Australian summer?

Ventilated seats.

Cold winter morning?

Heated seats.

There are certain technologies humanity should now simply agree never to surrender. Cooled seats are one of them.

The updated Advanced has lost some of the luxuries previously available in the GV60, including the old 18-way driver's seat and Nappa leather, so part of that substantial price reduction has clearly come from somewhere.

But crucially, the cabin doesn't suddenly feel cheap because of it.

Not remotely.

Genesis has also thought about where your actual stuff goes. There's a floating-style centre console with useful storage beneath it, cupholders, large door bins, wireless charging and a decent centre-console compartment.

And instead of a conventional glovebox?

A drawer.

Pull it out. Put things in it. Push it closed.

Simple.

Useful.

Why don't more cars do this?

Rear Seats

The GV60 sits on Hyundai Motor Group's E-GMP electric architecture, with a long 2900mm wheelbase packed into a body measuring around 4515mm long, 1890mm wide and 1580mm tall.

Don't mistake this for a large SUV, though.

Adults fit in the back, although taller passengers may find knee and toe room tighter than expected given that generous wheelbase. Headroom is decent despite the GV60's coupé-like roofline.

For families, however, there's plenty to like. Rear passengers get B-pillar-mounted air vents, USB charging, map pockets, door storage, a folding centre armrest with cupholders and manual rear sunshades.

There are ISOFIX mounting points on both outer rear seats and three top-tether points.

And speaking as someone who actually puts children into the back of these things rather than simply attacking the seats with a tape measure, those details matter.

Rear sunshades matter.

Charging points matter.

Storage matters.

And apparently the rotating crystal ball at the front matters enormously.

Boot Space and Practicality

Right.

Practicality.

Because we've promised ourselves we're never forgetting this bit again.

The GV60 offers 432 litres of luggage capacity behind the rear seats. That's perfectly usable rather than cavernous, and the sloping rear bodywork inevitably sends an invoice when it comes time to carry bulky things.

There's useful underfloor storage for charging cables, along with a 12V outlet, luggage light and cargo cover.

What you don't get is a spare wheel.

Instead?

Tyre repair kit.

Welcome to modern EV ownership.

Powertrain

Underneath, the Advanced uses a single permanent-magnet electric motor mounted at the rear, producing 168kW and 350Nm through a single-speed reduction gear.

Kerb weight is around 2045kg, while the claimed 0–100km/h time is 7.8 seconds.

There is something deeply amusing about describing 7.8 seconds as slow.

Twenty years ago that was perfectly respectable performance. Now we've driven enough electric cars capable of hitting 100km/h in four seconds that anything beginning with a seven looks like the vehicle stopped halfway through to answer an email.

But again...

Context.

The Advanced isn't the performance GV60.

Genesis now has an answer for people wanting the ridiculous one.

It's called Magma.

This car has a different job.

On the Road

Once you understand that, the whole thing makes considerably more sense.

The throttle calibration is smooth, progressive and easy. There's no need to delicately meter your right foot away from every intersection to prevent everyone's head hitting the headrest, and Comfort mode suits the GV60 beautifully.

Eco exists if you're particularly committed to squeezing every kilometre from the battery. Snow mode exists for Australians who...

Well.

Live somewhere considerably colder than Queensland.

And Sport?

Sport gives the accelerator a little more immediacy and wakes things up enough to remind you there's 350Nm available instantly.

But it doesn't transform the GV60.

Nor should it.

There's enough performance for overtaking, enough for motorway merging and enough to squirt through a gap in traffic. Then you settle back down again.

That's where this GV60 wants to live.

Ride and Refinement

Comfort matters enormously here, and Genesis has clearly understood the assignment.

Around town, the GV60 deals well with the usual collection of potholes, expansion joints, road repairs and assorted Australian-road bullshit. There's compliance, softness and isolation.

It's not floaty in the traditional old luxury-car sense, but it takes the edge off the road rather than constantly reporting every surface imperfection to your backside.

Push harder and you'll notice the compromise. This is still a two-tonne electric crossover, and larger compressions can introduce more body movement than you'll find in something aggressively tied down.

But again:

Do you care?

If Genesis had sacrificed ride quality to make the Advanced marginally better through a sequence of corners, I think it would have misunderstood its own car.

The Advanced is at its best when you're not trying particularly hard.

And I mean that as a compliment.

Refinement is similarly impressive. Removing an internal-combustion engine doesn't automatically make an EV quiet; sometimes it simply exposes tyre roar, wind noise and suspension noise that several thousand controlled explosions were previously masking.

Genesis has paid attention here. Acoustic laminated glass and additional noise suppression help create a cabin that feels properly isolated.

Conversations happen at normal volume. Music doesn't need to fight the road.

The whole thing encourages you to relax.

Steering and Handling

The steering is light enough around town but gains useful weight as speeds increase. It's accurate, predictable and easy to place.

Are we about to write several paragraphs about delicate messages arriving through the steering rim as the front tyres approach the limit of adhesion?

No.

It's not a Lotus Elise.

But the rear-wheel-drive configuration gives the Advanced a pleasantly natural balance. There's something satisfying about having the propulsion happen behind you, while the front wheels are largely left to get on with steering.

The result isn't exciting in the traditional sense.

It's simply...

Nice.

And I'm increasingly convinced that's exactly the point.

Regenerative Braking

The steering-wheel paddles control the level of regenerative braking.

Excellent.

This remains one of our favourite implementations because it lets you change the car's behaviour without diving into a menu.

Want it to coast? Dial the regeneration back.

Want stronger deceleration? Pull the paddle.

Want proper one-pedal driving?

Select i-Pedal.

Once you're accustomed to it, urban driving becomes wonderfully easy. Accelerate, lift, slow, stop.

Genesis has also done a good job blending regenerative braking with the conventional friction brakes. The pedal doesn't suddenly change character halfway through its travel.

It feels natural.

Which sounds like faint praise until you've driven an EV where it doesn't.

Battery, Range and Efficiency

Underneath sits an 84kWh NMC lithium-ion battery, replacing the previous GV60's 77.4kWh pack.

That brings one of the Advanced's most important improvements:

561km of WLTP range.

Now we're talking.

Because somewhere beyond 500km, range anxiety starts becoming considerably less interesting. At that point, the car can often travel further between stops than the humans inside it actually want to.

Coffee.

Food.

Bathroom.

Children asking "Are we there yet?" for the 47th time.

Eventually biology becomes the limiting factor rather than lithium-ion chemistry.

Official combined energy consumption is 16.8kWh/100km, which is respectable for a two-tonne premium electric crossover. Real-world consumption will obviously vary with temperature, traffic, speed, climate control and how enthusiastically you're using the accelerator.

But paired with that 84kWh battery, the Advanced has moved beyond the point where range feels like something you need to constantly manage.

And that matters more to me than shaving another second from the 0–100 time.

Charging

This is where the E-GMP architecture continues to shine.

The GV60 supports 11kW AC charging and up to approximately 260kW DC fast charging.

Find sufficiently powerful infrastructure under suitable conditions and Genesis quotes roughly 18 minutes for a 10–80 per cent DC charge.

Eighteen minutes.

That's excellent.

Obviously, that's the ideal scenario. You need the right charger, the battery needs to be at the appropriate temperature, the charger itself needs to actually deliver what it says on the sticker, and Mercury presumably needs to be in retrograde or whatever else Australia's public charging network occasionally requires.

But the underlying capability is there.

And the combination matters.

561km range. Very fast DC charging.

For a luxury EV, that's much more compelling to me than another hundred kilowatts.

Vehicle-to-Load

The Advanced also supports Vehicle-to-Load, or V2L, through an external adaptor connected to the charging port.

That effectively turns the high-voltage battery into an enormous mobile power source for compatible external devices. Camping equipment, laptops, appliances — whatever your particular electricity-dependent adventure requires.

The Advanced doesn't get the internal second-row V2L outlet offered on some higher GV60 specifications elsewhere.

Not disastrous.

But worth knowing.

Exterior

The GV60 remains an unusual-looking thing.

And I mean that positively.

There's the familiar Genesis twin-line lighting signature, clamshell bonnet, low-mounted Crest Grille, flush door handles, curved roofline and distinctive rear spoiler.

The facelift hasn't radically reinvented the shape.

Good.

It didn't need to.

There's increasing homogenisation happening among electric cars.

Smooth nose.

Thin headlights.

Big wheels.

Flush handles.

Blob.

The GV60 has identity.

Whether everybody loves that identity is another question, but at least it has one.

The Advanced rides on 19-inch alloy wheels, and thank God for that too.

Apparently EVs are otherwise contractually obligated to wear wheels roughly the same diameter as the London Eye.

Nineteens are plenty. They look good, leave some actual tyre sidewall and contribute to the GV60's comfort-first character.

A luxury car riding better because someone resisted fitting enormous wheels purely for the brochure photography?

Thank you, Genesis.

Cameras and Parking

The Advanced gets a surround-view camera system with 3D functionality, along with Genesis' excellent Blind-Spot View Monitor.

Indicate and a camera view of the corresponding blind spot appears in the instrument display.

It's one of those features that initially feels like technology for technology's sake.

Then you live with it.

Then you drive something without it.

Then you miss it.

There's also Remote Smart Parking Assist, which can help manoeuvre the GV60 in tight situations.

Necessary every day?

No.

Useful when someone parks approximately fourteen millimetres from your driver's door?

Very.

Safety

The GV60 carries a five-star ANCAP safety rating, originally awarded in 2022. It scored 89 per cent for adult occupant protection, 89 per cent for child occupant protection, 63 per cent for vulnerable road-user protection and 88 per cent for safety assist.

There are 10 airbags, including a front-centre airbag and driver's knee airbag, along with front and rear side protection.

The active-safety package includes autonomous emergency braking with pedestrian and cyclist detection, adaptive cruise control, blind-spot monitoring, lane-keeping assistance, driver-attention monitoring, intelligent speed assistance, Safe Exit Assist, parking sensors, rear collision avoidance, surround-view cameras and the aforementioned blind-spot camera system.

The forward collision system can also intervene in certain junction and lane-change scenarios.

In other words:

There's a lot watching you.

Bings and Bongs

Which inevitably means...

Bing.

Modern cars love telling you things.

Speed limit changed. You're slightly over it. Lane marking. Something ahead. Something beside you. Something somewhere in the southern hemisphere has occurred.

BING.

The GV60 isn't the worst offender we've encountered.

Not even close.

Thankfully, various alerts can be adjusted, with some preferences remaining set between drives.

That last bit matters.

Because having to disable the same overenthusiastic safety warning every single time you start a car is how perfectly normal people eventually begin shouting at dashboards.

Ownership

Genesis backs the GV60 with a five-year, unlimited-kilometre vehicle warranty, while the high-voltage battery is covered for eight years or 160,000km.

Scheduled servicing is required every 12 months or 15,000km, and Genesis includes the first five years or 75,000km of scheduled servicing at no additional cost.

There's also roadside assistance and Genesis' concierge-style ownership programme, including vehicle collection and return for eligible scheduled servicing.

This stuff matters.

Genesis is asking buyers to choose it over brands that have spent decades establishing their luxury credentials, so the ownership experience needs to feel premium too.

It isn't enough to put leather on the dashboard and call it a day.

The Value Question

And now we arrive at the uncomfortable bit.

$88,300 before on-road costs.

There are cheaper EVs.

Much cheaper EVs.

Some offer more power. Some offer more interior space. Some offer more equipment. Some will accelerate considerably harder.

And increasingly, Chinese manufacturers are making the old argument that cheap equals nasty extremely difficult to sustain.

Then you've got the established luxury competition from BMW, Mercedes-Benz, Audi, Lexus and others, carrying enormous brand recognition and decades of accumulated prestige.

So where does Genesis fit?

Somewhere interesting.

Because I don't think you buy the GV60 Advanced because it wins a spreadsheet.

You buy it because you sit inside one and think:

Oh. This is nice.

And then you keep noticing things.

The materials. The silence. The seats. The drawer. The cameras. The Crystal Sphere. The way it rides. The way everything feels slightly different from the obvious alternatives.

It's a harder quality to quantify.

But luxury always has been.

What It's Missing

It's not perfect.

Rear-seat space could be better. The 432-litre boot isn't enormous. There's no spare tyre, and the infotainment system can require more digging through menus than we'd like.

Some of the previous GV60's luxuries have also disappeared from the Advanced as Genesis brought the entry price down.

And yes, for almost $90,000 before on-roads, some people are going to look at what considerably cheaper EVs provide and struggle to make the numbers work.

That's completely reasonable.

The GV60 Advanced isn't the rational value champion of the electric-car market.

It doesn't pretend to be.

But there's something else it does very well.

It Knows What It Is

This is what stayed with me.

The GV60 Advanced doesn't feel insecure about its performance.

It doesn't constantly remind you how much power it has. It doesn't need a ridiculous launch sequence. It doesn't need to pin your head against the restraint every time you touch the accelerator.

It doesn't feel like Genesis engineers sat around a table worrying that somebody else's crossover reached 100km/h three-tenths faster.

They appear to have asked a different question.

What does this version actually need?

168kW.

350Nm.

Rear-wheel drive.

561km of range.

Very rapid charging.

A quiet cabin.

Comfortable suspension.

Lovely seats.

Good materials.

Useful technology.

And a crystal ball that flips over every time you turn the bloody thing on.

That's enough.

Verdict

Maybe that's why I liked the GV60 Advanced more than its numbers suggested I would.

Because if you'd handed me the specification sheet first, I'd have immediately circled one figure.

7.8 seconds.

Really?

Nearly ninety grand for an EV and it takes 7.8 seconds to reach 100km/h?

Then I drove it.

And after a while...

I stopped thinking about that number entirely.

I didn't care.

The GV60 doesn't create an environment where you're constantly searching for performance. Quite the opposite. It encourages you to relax.

The steering is easy. The ride is comfortable. The motor is smooth. The cabin is quiet. The seats are lovely. The range is excellent.

And when you do need some extra response?

Sport mode.

Little squeeze of the accelerator.

There you go.

Enough.

There's something strangely mature about that.

Especially now.

We're living through an electric horsepower war where family crossovers are producing outputs that would have embarrassed supercars not particularly long ago.

And don't misunderstand me.

I like stupidly fast things.

A lot.

We're about to drive the GV60 Magma, for God's sake.

I am very much looking forward to finding out what happens when Genesis takes this beautifully calm little environment and gives it an anger-management problem.

But that's another car.

The Advanced doesn't need to be Magma-lite.

It shouldn't be.

Its job is different.

There are faster electric SUVs. There are cheaper electric SUVs. There are larger electric SUVs. There are EVs that will look considerably more impressive in a specification comparison.

But few numbers on a specification sheet can explain the thing I enjoyed most about the GV60.

The atmosphere.

That feeling when you climb inside, press the start button and watch the Crystal Sphere rotate — accompanied, in my case, by two fascinated little girls.

Select Drive.

Pull away.

And realise you don't particularly care about racing the bloke beside you.

You don't need to.

You've got 561 kilometres of claimed range, a comfortable seat, a quiet cabin, some music and enough performance to do everything you actually need to do.

Maybe luxury isn't always about having more.

Maybe sometimes luxury is reaching the point where you stop asking for it.

168kW. 350Nm. 7.8 seconds.

Enough.

And you know what?

That's absolutely fine.

Review: Toyota Hilux Rogue

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There are certain things you expect from a Toyota HiLux.

It'll start.

It'll probably continue starting for approximately the next geological era.

Someone will eventually put a bullbar on it.

Someone else will put a snorkel on it despite never travelling further off-road than the Bunnings car park.

And somewhere, right now, there's probably one carrying approximately twice as much weight as Toyota ever intended.

The HiLux has become so deeply embedded in Australian life that reviewing a new one feels slightly strange.

Because Toyota isn't merely replacing a ute.

It's messing with an institution.

And institutions don't particularly like change.

Which perhaps explains the 2026 Toyota HiLux Rogue rather well.

Because underneath all the new styling, screens, technology and a mildly electrified diesel engine, Toyota hasn't attempted to reinvent the HiLux.

Instead, it has looked at what it already had and essentially said:

Right. Let's make this considerably better.

And after spending some time in the Rogue?

That's probably exactly what it needed.

Especially when it looks like this.

Because ours arrived in...

Sunglow.

And Sunglow deserves a conversation.

Sunglow

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Look at it.

Seriously.

After decades of Australian roads being populated by white, silver and grey dual-cab utes, Toyota has apparently discovered...

Colour.

Glorious.

Our Rogue came finished in Sunglow, one of the new colours offered on the 2026 HiLux.

And it's difficult to ignore.

Depending on the light, there's this warm yellow-green quality to it that changes the entire personality of the car.

It's bold.

A little strange.

Definitely not subtle.

And I really rather liked it.

Would I personally order my HiLux Rogue in Sunglow?

You know what?

I might.

Because we're living through an automotive period where seemingly every manufacturer's configurator offers:

White.

Black.

Grey.

Slightly different grey.

Grey that someone in marketing has named after a mountain.

And occasionally blue.

So when somebody offers an actual colour?

I'm listening.

Thank you, Toyota.

More of this please.

The New Face

And Sunglow also helps emphasise just how different the new HiLux looks.

Toyota's Australian design team led the exterior work, and the result is considerably more modern than before.

Slim LED headlights.

Large honeycomb grille.

Big TOYOTA lettering.

Squared-off surfaces.

Pronounced wheel arches.

There's a distinctly broader, tougher appearance to the Rogue.

Toyota calls the design philosophy "Cyber Sumo."

Of course it does.

I have absolutely no idea what a cyber sumo is.

But apparently this is what one drives.

The important bit is that the HiLux now looks modern again.

Because the previous generation had been around for a long time.

A very long time.

It was still recognisably handsome, but beside the latest Ranger, Amarok, Triton and rapidly multiplying collection of Chinese dual-cabs, it had begun looking its age.

The 2026 car fixes that.

Mostly.

Is It Actually All-New?

Here's where things become interesting.

Toyota refers to this as the new-generation HiLux.

But underneath?

There's plenty you'll recognise.

The wheelbase remains 3085mm.

The underlying ladder-frame architecture is heavily related to what came before.

The familiar 2.8-litre turbo-diesel remains.

The six-speed automatic remains.

The basic part-time four-wheel-drive arrangement remains.

So if you were expecting Toyota to throw everything away and start again...

It didn't.

And honestly?

Good.

Because there's a dangerous tendency in the automotive industry to assume new automatically means better.

The HiLux already had some very good bones.

Toyota didn't need to reinvent the ute.

It needed to fix the areas where rivals had moved ahead.

And that's largely what it has done.

The Engine

Under the bonnet sits an old friend.

Toyota's 2.8-litre four-cylinder turbo-diesel.

In the Rogue it produces:

150kW.

500Nm.

And it's paired exclusively with a six-speed automatic transmission.

Those numbers haven't suddenly become spectacular.

Plenty of competitors now offer more.

Some considerably more.

But there's something almost reassuring about the Toyota diesel.

It isn't trying to impress you with a gigantic output figure.

It just...

gets on with it.

500Nm is plenty for everyday driving.

There's enough low-down shove.

Enough overtaking performance.

Enough grunt for towing.

And enough torque to remind you that you're driving a diesel ute rather than something pretending to be one.

Is it fast?

No.

Does it need to be?

Also no.

V-Active

Now we need to talk about the little electrified elephant in the engine bay.

Because the Rogue gets Toyota's 48-volt V-Active technology.

Toyota is careful with the terminology here.

This isn't a hybrid in the same sense as a RAV4 Hybrid.

You're not silently cruising through the suburbs on electric power.

Instead, there's a small motor-generator assisting the diesel engine, along with a 48V battery.

The motor-generator can contribute up to 8.5kW and 65Nm, although Toyota doesn't add those figures directly to the engine's quoted outputs.

The point isn't performance.

It's refinement and efficiency.

And that's probably the correct approach.

Because the most noticeable improvement isn't that the HiLux suddenly feels electrically boosted.

It doesn't.

It's that some of the rough edges around the diesel experience have been softened.

Stop-start operation is smoother.

Initial response feels cleaner.

The whole thing feels slightly more polished.

Think of it less as:

HiLux Hybrid.

And more:

HiLux diesel, but somebody sanded the edges.

Six Speeds

And yes.

Still six.

In an era of eight-speed, nine-speed and ten-speed automatic transmissions...

Toyota gives you six.

You know what?

I'm okay with that.

Because it works.

It knows what the engine wants.

It doesn't spend its entire life desperately searching through a filing cabinet of ratios.

It shifts.

It gets on with things.

Done.

There's something pleasantly old-school about it.

Driving

And this is where the new Rogue makes one of its biggest improvements.

Electric power steering.

Now, normally that phrase appearing in The Driver's Briefing would be followed by approximately four paragraphs mourning the death of steering feel.

But this is a HiLux.

We're not clipping apexes at Phillip Island.

And the electric system makes the Rogue considerably easier to live with.

Parking?

Easier.

Low-speed manoeuvring?

Easier.

Three-point turns?

Easier.

Negotiating a shopping-centre car park while somebody in a Corolla waits impatiently because apparently they desperately need the space you're reversing into?

Much easier.

Toyota has reduced the effort without making the steering feel completely disconnected.

And in a vehicle that's 5.32 metres long, that's a very welcome improvement.

Thank you, Toyota.

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The Rogue Difference

The Rogue isn't simply an SR5 with nicer seats.

Toyota has given it a specific suspension tune, including its wider-track chassis setup and softer rear leaf springs aimed at improving ride quality.

You also get larger front brakes and rear ventilated disc brakes rather than drums.

Rear discs.

On a HiLux.

Look at us living in the future.

And the difference matters.

Unladen dual-cab utes traditionally have a particular relationship with bumps.

Namely:

They hate them.

Leaf springs designed to carry serious weight don't always appreciate being asked to gently transport one bloke and a laptop.

The Rogue is better.

It's still a body-on-frame ute.

You're still aware of what's happening beneath the rear axle.

But there's more composure here.

More refinement.

Less of that traditional empty-ute hop.

Don't Expect a Ranger

This is also where expectations matter.

The benchmark for road manners in this segment remains extremely high.

And the HiLux hasn't suddenly transformed into a luxury SUV with a tray attached.

You still know you're driving a ute.

You feel its structure.

You feel its size.

You feel that rear axle.

But I actually don't mind that.

Because the HiLux retains some honesty.

It hasn't forgotten what it's supposed to be.

A vehicle that can carry things.

Tow things.

Go places.

Get dirty.

Then clean itself up and take you to dinner.

The Rogue simply makes the last part considerably more pleasant.

Off-Road

And underneath the nicer interior and fancy roller shutter...

It's still a HiLux.

Part-time four-wheel drive.

Low range.

Rear differential lock.

Retuned Multi-Terrain Select.

Proper ground clearance.

Proper underbody hardware.

And decades of HiLux reputation sitting behind it.

The Rogue isn't as overtly adventure-focused as the new Rugged X.

That's not really its job.

The Rogue is the HiLux for somebody who spends Monday to Friday driving around town, might tow something substantial on Saturday and then wants to disappear down a dirt track on Sunday.

It needs breadth.

And it has it.

Inside

This is perhaps where existing HiLux owners will notice the biggest transformation.

Because...

finally.

The previous interior worked.

That's about the nicest way I can put it.

Functional.

Durable.

Easy to understand.

But increasingly difficult to describe as modern.

The new cabin is a significant improvement.

There's a new 12.3-inch infotainment display.

A digital instrument cluster.

Wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto.

Wireless phone charging.

And in Rogue specification, a nine-speaker JBL audio system.

Nine speakers.

Which is very good.

Although the 1992 BMW 735i currently sitting in our Dream Garage had ten.

Just saying.

Thirty-four years ago.

Dad wins.

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Buttons!

And here's something else.

There are buttons.

Actual physical controls.

Things you can reach for.

Things you can operate without navigating through three touchscreen menus while travelling at 100km/h.

Climate controls.

Drive functions.

Useful stuff.

Toyota has modernised the cabin without apparently deciding human fingers have become obsolete.

Excellent.

You know what comes next.

Thank you, Toyota.

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The Seats

The Rogue gets a heated, eight-way electrically adjustable driver's seat along with heated front seating and leather-accented trim.

The lighter Mineral interior treatment also gives the cabin some character instead of turning everything black.

Again...

Colour.

Inside and outside.

Toyota's feeling adventurous.

And overall, the cabin feels much closer to what you'd expect from a ute costing north of $70,000.

Because that's the other conversation we need to have.

Seventy Grand

The Rogue sits at $71,990 before on-road costs.

That's a lot of money.

Obviously.

But dual-cab pricing has become slightly unhinged across the board.

And the Rogue is no longer simply competing with work utes.

It's competing with vehicles expected to perform family-car duties.

Which means buyers expect:

Comfort.

Technology.

Safety.

Good audio.

Nice materials.

Connectivity.

And enough refinement that spending two hours on the motorway doesn't feel like operating agricultural equipment.

The Rogue now makes considerably more sense in that environment.

The Tub

But eventually somebody is going to ask:

Can it still do ute things?

Yes.

And Rogue buyers get a particularly useful setup from the factory.

There's an electric roller cover.

Central-locking tailgate.

Deck rails with sliding tie-down points.

And a marine-carpet bedliner.

That's good.

Really good.

Because these are exactly the accessories buyers frequently add after purchasing a dual cab anyway.

Toyota has effectively said:

Here.

Done.

Use it.

And the powered roller shutter is one of those things that initially sounds unnecessarily fancy until you've lived with one.

Press button.

Cover opens.

Press button.

Cover closes.

Very civilised.

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Payload

Here's the compromise.

The Rogue weighs approximately 2342kg and has a 3120kg GVM, leaving roughly 778kg of payload.

That's respectable, but it isn't the HiLux you'd choose if your sole purpose was hauling enormous loads every day.

That's why Toyota sells other HiLux variants.

The Rogue prioritises equipment, comfort and versatility.

And that's completely reasonable.

Just remember payload includes people, accessories, luggage and tow-ball mass.

Put four adults in it.

Add a bullbar.

Tow a big caravan.

Fill the tray.

Numbers disappear surprisingly quickly.

Towing

Braked towing capacity remains the magic Australian dual-cab number:

3,500kg.

GVM is 3,120kg and GCM is 6,300kg.

Again, anyone genuinely planning to tow near the maximum should do the arithmetic rather than simply reading 3500kg in the brochure and assuming everything else can simultaneously be loaded to capacity.

Physics remains irritatingly resistant to marketing.

Fuel Economy

Toyota claims:

7.6L/100km combined.

The Rogue carries an 80-litre fuel tank.

For a 2.3-tonne dual-cab 4x4 with a 2.8-litre diesel, that's decent.

The 48V system helps here, although real-world consumption will obviously depend enormously on load, traffic, terrain and whether you're towing something shaped like a small apartment building.

But here's another reason diesel still makes enormous sense in this application.

Range.

Fill it.

Drive.

Drive some more.

Forget where the fuel gauge is.

Eventually look down.

Oh.

Probably should deal with that.

For Australian distances and towing duties, that simplicity still matters.

Safety

Toyota has also substantially updated the safety package.

There's the latest Toyota Safety Sense suite with autonomous emergency braking, adaptive cruise control, lane-related assistance, road-sign recognition and additional active-safety functionality.

And yes.

Modern safety systems mean modern warning systems.

Bings.

Bongs.

Beeping.

Watching.

Judging.

Thankfully, Toyota generally understands that a safety system should assist rather than conduct a running commentary on your driving.

Mostly.

We've driven worse.

Much worse.

The Competition

This is where the HiLux's job has become significantly harder.

Once upon a time, the Australian dual-cab conversation was relatively straightforward.

HiLux.

Ranger.

Maybe Triton.

What do you want?

Now?

Ford Ranger.

Mitsubishi Triton.

Isuzu D-MAX.

Mazda BT-50.

Volkswagen Amarok.

Kia Tasman.

GWM Cannon Alpha.

BYD Shark 6.

LDV.

MG.

And more arriving seemingly every fifteen minutes.

Some have more power.

Some have more equipment.

Some have newer platforms.

Some offer electrification that goes considerably further than Toyota's modest 48V system.

The HiLux can't simply walk into the room, point at the badge and expect everyone else to leave anymore.

And that's good.

Competition improves cars.

The 2026 HiLux feels like Toyota understands that.

But It's Still a HiLux

And that's perhaps the most important part.

Toyota could have chased everyone else.

Made it enormous.

Added eight cylinders worth of fake noise.

Installed a touchscreen the size of Tasmania.

Put seventeen drive modes in it.

Called one ULTRA EXTREME MUD RAPTOR ATTACK MODE.

It didn't.

Instead, the company modernised the HiLux without removing the things people already liked about it.

The engine is familiar.

The transmission is familiar.

The architecture is familiar.

The basic philosophy is familiar.

But the steering is easier.

The cabin is vastly better.

The technology is current.

The Rogue rides better.

The styling has presence again.

And the whole package feels like someone finally went through the HiLux with a fairly substantial red pen.

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Verdict

I wasn't expecting the 2026 HiLux Rogue to reinvent anything.

And it doesn't.

That's almost the point.

This is evolution rather than revolution.

There are rivals with more power.

There are rivals with more gears.

There are rivals with more sophisticated electrified drivetrains.

There are rivals that feel more car-like on the road.

But there's something reassuring about the Rogue.

It feels like Toyota knew exactly what needed fixing...

And resisted the temptation to interfere with everything else.

The 2.8-litre diesel still produces 150kW and 500Nm.

Enough.

The six-speed automatic still has six gears.

Enough.

The 48V system doesn't magically turn it into an electric ute.

It simply makes the diesel experience a little smoother and more efficient.

Good.

The electric steering makes everyday life easier.

The suspension changes make the Rogue more comfortable.

Rear disc brakes are overdue but welcome.

The new cabin finally feels properly contemporary.

The tub comes equipped with things you'll actually use.

It tows 3.5 tonnes.

It'll still go properly off-road.

And somehow Toyota has managed all of that without making the HiLux feel like it's forgotten what a HiLux is.

Then there's Sunglow.

I thought I'd mention the colour at the beginning and move on.

But after spending time looking at it?

I think it suits the entire car.

Because the new HiLux is familiar...

Just less boring.

And Sunglow does exactly the same thing.

It's still unmistakably a HiLux.

Except now you might actually turn around after parking it.

Would the Rogue be my automatic pick of every dual-cab on sale?

That's a considerably harder question than it used to be.

The competition is very good.

But the 2026 Rogue has reminded me why Australia has bought so many of these things.

It's tough.

It's useful.

It's easy to understand.

And now...

It's actually rather nice.

Toyota didn't reinvent the HiLux.

It just gave it the update it desperately needed.

And occasionally, that's the smarter move.

Oh.

And Toyota?

Keep Sunglow.

The world has enough grey cars.

Thank you, Toyota.

Review: Hyundai Elexio

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I didn't particularly want to like this.

That's probably not the opening Hyundai was hoping for.

But when the first images of the ELEXIO appeared, I remember looking at it and thinking...

Hmm.

Not ugly.

Not necessarily.

Just...

Odd.

The proportions looked strange in some photos.

The lighting treatment was unusual.

The wheels looked enormous.

And compared with Hyundai's excellent IONIQ range, the ELEXIO didn't immediately make me want to know more.

Then one arrived.

And I saw it in person.

Oh.

That's better.

Then I drove it.

Oh.

That's considerably better.

And after finding Sport mode?

Right.

Okay, Hyundai.

You've got my attention.

What Exactly Is an ELEXIO?

Good question.

Because unlike IONIQ, KONA or even INSTER, the ELEXIO name doesn't arrive with much existing recognition in Australia.

The ELEXIO was originally developed through Beijing Hyundai as part of the company's Chinese-market EV strategy, before making its way to Australia.

It's built in China and uses Hyundai's dedicated E-GMP electric vehicle architecture.

And within Hyundai's Australian electric range, it occupies a very deliberate position.

Above the KONA Electric.

Below the IONIQ 5.

Hyundai describes it as the sweet spot between the two, offering more space and range than the KONA Electric while starting considerably below the IONIQ 5.

That makes sense.

Because fundamentally, this is a medium electric family SUV.

Nothing particularly revolutionary there.

The interesting bit is how Hyundai has approached it.

Design

Let's get this out of the way.

It looks much better in person.

I don't know what happened with some of those original press images.

Maybe it was the angles.

Maybe the colours.

Maybe the ELEXIO simply doesn't photograph particularly well.

Relatable.

But standing beside it, the proportions make considerably more sense.

There's a clean, almost monolithic quality to the body.

Flush door handles.

Smooth surfacing.

A relatively upright SUV profile.

And then there are those distinctive crystal-square lights.

They're unusual.

Definitely.

But once you see the vehicle moving through traffic, they give the ELEXIO an identity.

And that's important.

We literally just criticised the Leapmotor C10 for disappearing into the enormous sea of increasingly similar electric SUVs.

The ELEXIO doesn't.

You might not immediately know what it is.

But you'll probably look at it.

That's already something.

Those Wheels

The Elite gets 20-inch alloy wheels with what Hyundai calls a plum-blossom-inspired design.

They're...

Interesting.

There's a lot happening.

I'm not entirely convinced I'd describe a wheel as plum blossom-inspired without assistance from a press release.

But they suit the car.

Again, this is one of those design elements that looked strange in photographs and somehow made considerably more sense when attached to an actual vehicle sitting in front of me.

The standard ELEXIO gets smaller 18s.

My head says those are probably the sensible choice.

Better ride.

Cheaper tyres.

And they contribute to slightly better driving range.

My eyes?

Still deciding.

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Interior

And then you climb inside.

Hmm.

That's interesting.

Because Hyundai has done something slightly unusual with the screens.

The enormous 27-inch display doesn't sit directly in front of the driver like we've become accustomed to.

Instead, it's pushed across towards the passenger side of the dashboard.

Initially, I wasn't sure about that.

There's this enormous expanse of high-resolution display sitting beside you, while directly ahead of the steering wheel there's...

Basically a letterbox.

A slim information display showing the things you actually need while driving.

Speed.

Battery level.

Range.

Drive information.

That's largely it.

And after a little while?

I didn't hate it.

Actually, I started to understand it.

Because Hyundai has separated two completely different types of information.

The stuff you need while driving sits directly in your line of sight.

The stuff you want to interact with lives on the enormous display beside you.

That's...

Actually quite sensible.

Damn it.

I was prepared to make fun of this.

The slim driver's display is almost comically small compared with the enormous screen beside it, but because it isn't trying to display maps, album artwork, animated vehicles and seventeen different menus simultaneously, it's incredibly easy to read.

Speed?

There.

Range?

There.

Battery?

There.

Done.

Meanwhile, the giant 27-inch display handles navigation, media, vehicle settings and everything else.

And because it's positioned further towards the passenger side, your passenger can actually interact with it without leaning halfway across the centre console.

There's something refreshingly logical about that.

Don't misunderstand me.

I'm still not convinced every modern car needs enough screen real estate to operate an air-traffic-control centre.

But if you're going to install an enormous display?

Separating it from the driver's essential information actually makes quite a lot of sense.

It's weird.

Definitely.

The first time you climb aboard, you'll notice it immediately.

But after living with it?

Hmm, that's interesting.

And surprisingly...

I don't hate it.

The Passenger Screen Problem

There's another unexpected benefit.

Most modern infotainment systems are fundamentally designed around the driver.

Which makes sense.

They're driving.

But it also means passengers trying to change music, enter a destination or find something often end up reaching awkwardly towards a screen positioned primarily for somebody else.

The ELEXIO flips that around.

The driver already has the important information directly ahead.

So the enormous central display can stretch towards the passenger and become more of a shared interface.

Your passenger can find the restaurant.

Change the music.

Search for a charging station.

Handle navigation.

Do passenger things.

Excellent.

Delegation.

Meanwhile, I can continue driving without somebody's arm appearing directly in front of the dashboard every thirty seconds.

Relationships have survived on less significant innovations.

Thank you, Hyundai.

Space

The ELEXIO is also properly spacious.

There's loads of room in the second row, helped by the dedicated EV platform and 2750mm wheelbase.

The flat floor makes the rear feel open.

Adults fit comfortably.

Kids will have acres of room.

And there are apparently 46 different storage areas throughout the cabin.

Forty-six.

I'm not sure I could identify forty-six separate things I regularly need to store in a car.

But if you've got children?

Give it six months.

They'll fill every single one.

Probably with rocks.

Boot Space

506 litres.

That's the boot capacity with the rear seats in place.

Fold them and you've got 1,540 litres available.

Good.

Proper family-SUV numbers.

The opening is wide, the space itself is useful, and there's enough room for the usual collection of family-life equipment.

Prams.

Shopping.

Suitcases.

Sports bags.

Approximately seventeen water bottles nobody remembers owning.

All good.

There's no frunk, which is slightly disappointing given the dedicated EV architecture.

Not disastrous.

But if there's no engine under there...

I always want somewhere to put the charging cable.

Powertrain

Both Australian ELEXIO variants use the same basic drivetrain.

A single electric motor driving the front wheels.

160kW.

310Nm.

An 88.1kWh LFP battery.

And this is perhaps where my initial drive didn't immediately win me over.

Because 160kW in a vehicle weighing more than two tonnes isn't an outrageous amount of power.

It's enough.

Absolutely.

Around town, electric torque means response is immediate.

There's no gearbox.

No waiting for boost.

No engine trying to find the correct rev range.

Press accelerator.

Car goes.

But in the default driving mode, the ELEXIO felt...

Fine.

Comfortable.

Smooth.

Perfectly adequate.

And after the Leapmotor, I started getting worried.

Oh no.

Not another one.

Then I found Sport mode.

Sport Mode

There you are.

Now, let's manage expectations.

Sport mode does not transform the ELEXIO into an IONIQ 5 N.

Obviously.

You're still working with the same 160kW and 310Nm.

Hyundai hasn't secretly hidden another motor underneath the boot floor waiting for you to press a button.

But the throttle response sharpens.

The car feels more eager.

That immediate electric torque becomes easier to access.

And suddenly the ELEXIO feels considerably more alive.

Not fast.

Responsive.

There's a difference.

And for everyday driving, I actually think responsiveness matters more.

You press the accelerator and the vehicle reacts immediately.

Gap in traffic?

Go.

Motorway merge?

Done.

Overtake?

No problem.

The ELEXIO suddenly felt lighter than its two-tonne kerb weight suggested.

And I found myself enjoying it considerably more.

Sometimes all a car needs is a little waking up.

Sport mode did that.

Thank you, Hyundai.

Driving

Even outside Sport mode, the ELEXIO is impressively refined.

It's quiet.

Obviously.

But there's more to EV refinement than simply removing an engine.

Wind noise is well suppressed.

Road noise is controlled.

The ride is comfortable.

And the overall calibration feels mature.

That's perhaps where Hyundai's experience becomes obvious.

This isn't the company's first electric car.

Not even close.

Hyundai has been developing EVs long enough now that the fundamentals feel sorted.

Throttle calibration.

Regenerative braking.

Brake-pedal transition.

Steering weight.

Ride.

These aren't exciting things to talk about.

But when they're wrong?

You notice immediately.

The ELEXIO generally gets them right.

Regenerative Braking

Hyundai also gives you multiple levels of regenerative braking, including i-Pedal functionality for one-pedal driving.

Excellent.

And this remains one of my favourite things about Hyundai EVs.

Let the driver choose.

Want traditional coasting behaviour?

Fine.

Want stronger regeneration?

Fine.

Want to barely touch the brake pedal during normal urban driving?

Also fine.

Different people like different things.

Give us options.

Thank you, Hyundai.

It's really not complicated.

Ride and Handling

The ELEXIO isn't trying to be sporty.

Even with Sport mode selected.

And that's okay.

This is a family SUV.

The suspension prioritises comfort, and for the most part that decision pays off.

Poor surfaces are dealt with nicely.

The substantial battery mass keeps the centre of gravity relatively low.

And through faster corners, the ELEXIO feels planted rather than cumbersome.

There's not much steering feedback.

You're not going to wake up at 5am on Sunday morning specifically to drive one through the mountains.

But again, that's not the job.

What's important is that the ELEXIO doesn't feel sloppy.

There's enough body control.

Enough grip.

Enough steering accuracy.

Then you put it back into Sport mode and give it a little more enthusiasm.

That's where I found the sweet spot.

Comfortable chassis.

Sharper response.

Much better.

Range

Here's one of the ELEXIO's strongest arguments.

That large 88.1kWh battery gives the standard ELEXIO an official WLTP range of 562km, while the Elite's larger wheels reduce that slightly to 546km.

That's proper range.

Not “technically enough for most people if the weather is good and you don't use the air-conditioning” range.

More than 500 kilometres gives you genuine flexibility.

For everyday commuting, you'd potentially go several days between charges.

For longer journeys, you're starting with enough range that charging becomes something you plan around meal or rest stops rather than constantly thinking about.

And for Australians still hesitant about moving to an EV?

That number matters.

Efficiency

Official combined energy consumption is 18.2kWh/100km.

For a medium SUV weighing north of two tonnes, that's respectable.

And this is where the ELEXIO's relatively modest power output begins making sense.

Could Hyundai have given it 250kW?

Of course.

Would that look better on the brochure?

Absolutely.

Would most families actually need it?

No.

Instead, Hyundai has prioritised usable range and everyday efficiency.

Which is very sensible.

Annoyingly sensible.

Apparently Toyota doesn't have exclusive rights to doing that.

Charging

There is one area where the ELEXIO reminds you that it doesn't have the full high-voltage charging capability of Hyundai's more expensive IONIQ products.

Hyundai quotes approximately 38 minutes for a 10–80 per cent DC charge under the specified conditions.

That's perfectly usable.

But an IONIQ 5 can perform the same basic exercise considerably faster under ideal conditions.

And that's part of the hierarchy.

Want Hyundai's cutting-edge charging architecture?

IONIQ 5.

Want a large battery, strong range and lower entry price?

ELEXIO.

Fair enough.

Technology

There's a lot here.

The giant 27-inch display.

The slim driver's information screen.

Head-up display.

Bluelink connected services.

Over-the-air updates.

Digital Key 2.

Wireless charging.

Surround-view camera technology depending on variant.

And an extensive suite of driver assistance.

But importantly, most of it feels relatively polished.

The ELEXIO is technology-heavy without feeling like a technology demonstration.

There's a difference.

The software generally responds quickly.

The graphics are clean.

And after the frustrations I had with the Leapmotor C10, this felt like a reminder that putting a giant screen in a car isn't inherently the problem.

Badly integrating one is.

The ELEXIO's screen layout initially looks like somebody installed the dashboard slightly off-centre.

Spend some time with it and you realise there's actual thought behind the decision.

I like that.

Safety

The ELEXIO carries a five-star ANCAP safety rating and comes with nine airbags alongside Hyundai's SmartSense suite of driver-assistance technology.

There's autonomous emergency braking.

Adaptive cruise control.

Lane assistance.

Blind-spot technology.

Driver monitoring.

The usual modern collection.

But Hyundai has had years to refine how these systems behave, and that experience generally shows.

They're present.

They're watching.

But most of the time, they aren't screaming for your attention.

We've established how much I appreciate that.

The China Question

Yes.

The ELEXIO is built in China.

And yes, it was initially developed specifically around the Chinese market through Beijing Hyundai.

But I actually find that interesting.

Because we're watching the automotive industry become considerably more global in the opposite direction.

For decades, Chinese manufacturers learned from European, Japanese and Korean brands.

Now established global manufacturers are using Chinese engineering, manufacturing and technology ecosystems to develop products that are subsequently exported elsewhere.

The ELEXIO is part of that shift.

But importantly, it still feels like a Hyundai.

The driving calibration.

The safety systems.

The EV expertise.

The overall polish.

There's enough familiar DNA here.

The Competition

And this is where things become difficult.

Because medium electric SUVs are multiplying faster than streaming services.

Tesla Model Y.

Kia EV5.

BYD Sealion 7.

Leapmotor C10.

XPeng G6.

Deepal S07.

And plenty more.

That's a brutal segment.

Price matters.

Range matters.

Charging matters.

Equipment matters.

And increasingly...

Personality matters.

Which brings me back to why the ELEXIO surprised me.

It actually has some.

Not enormous amounts.

Let's not get carried away.

This isn't an IONIQ 5 N.

But between the unusual styling, interesting interior and slightly more eager personality in Sport mode, there was enough going on that I remembered the car after handing the keys back.

After the Leapmotor C10?

That mattered more than I expected.

Verdict

I almost didn't want to like the Hyundai ELEXIO.

The launch photos didn't do much for me.

The styling looked strange.

The concept seemed like yet another electric medium SUV arriving into a market already overflowing with them.

And initially?

Driving it didn't completely change my mind.

Comfortable.

Quiet.

Spacious.

Competent.

Here we go again.

Then I spent more time with it.

Saw it in different light.

Started appreciating the details.

Got used to that enormous screen being shoved towards the passenger while my speed and range lived on what initially appeared to be a digital letterbox in front of me.

Found Sport mode.

And somewhere along the way...

I started liking it.

More than I expected.

That's perhaps the ELEXIO's greatest strength.

It gets better the longer you spend with it.

The design makes more sense in person.

That strange dashboard layout starts feeling strangely logical.

The cabin is genuinely spacious.

The 506-litre boot works for family life.

More than 500km of WLTP range removes much of the usual EV anxiety.

The ride is comfortable.

And Sport mode gives the drivetrain just enough extra urgency to stop the experience becoming completely anonymous.

Would I call it exciting?

No.

Would I choose it because I wanted a driver's car?

Also no.

But unlike some EVs I've driven recently, the ELEXIO didn't leave me cold.

There's enough character here.

Enough weirdness.

Enough personality.

And enough underlying Hyundai polish to make the whole thing work.

Which brings me back to those original press photos.

I judged you too quickly.

Sorry, ELEXIO.

Turns out you're alright.

Actually...

You're better than alright.

Thank you, Hyundai.

Review: Toyota RAV4 Edge

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I couldn't decide whether I liked the colour.

Let's get that out of the way first.

Our Toyota RAV4 Edge arrived finished in Daintree Green.

And depending on where I parked it, I had completely different opinions about it.

Bright sunlight?

Oh. That's actually quite nice.

Overcast?

Hmm.

Underground car park?

What colour even is this?

Walk past it twenty minutes later?

Actually... I like it again.

I spent more time forming an opinion about the paint than I expected.

Which, strangely, became something of a metaphor for the entire car.

Because the new RAV4 is good.

Very good in places.

It's unquestionably a welcome improvement over the previous generation.

It's comfortable.

Practical.

Efficient.

Well equipped.

And carrying a Toyota badge means there will probably already be thousands of Australians prepared to buy one before reaching the end of this paragraph.

But after spending time with the Edge, I kept finding myself searching for something.

A little more performance.

A little more character.

A little more...

soul.

And I know.

It's a RAV4.

Perhaps I'm asking the wrong question.

But when rivals have become this good, being sensible isn't necessarily enough anymore.

The New RAV4

The RAV4 has become one of those vehicles almost impossible to separate from the idea of the family SUV itself.

For decades, Toyota has refined the formula.

Practical dimensions.

Good visibility.

Useful boot.

Reasonable running costs.

Strong resale.

Reliability.

Nothing particularly controversial.

And Australians buy them.

Lots of them.

So redesigning a RAV4 presents Toyota with an interesting problem.

Change too much and you risk upsetting the enormous number of people who already like it.

Change too little and everyone asks why they should upgrade.

The 2026 model attempts to walk directly down the middle.

It looks fresher.

Feels more modern.

The cabin takes a meaningful step forward.

Technology improves.

Hybridisation continues to play a major role.

But underneath all of that...

It's still very much a RAV4.

Whether that's reassuring or disappointing will depend entirely on what you're looking for.

Daintree Green

Right.

Back to the paint.

Daintree Green.

It's unusual.

I'll give Toyota that.

Depending on the light, it shifts between what looks like a fairly sophisticated earthy green and something considerably more...

Agricultural.

There were moments where I thought it suited the Edge perfectly.

Rugged trim.

Black exterior details.

Green paint.

Very outdoorsy.

Look at us. We own hiking boots.

Then the light would change and I'd stare at it again.

I'm still not sure.

But here's the important thing:

I remember it.

And considering how many medium SUVs currently exist in varying shades of white, silver, grey and slightly different grey...

I'll give Toyota the point.

I'd rather have a colour I'm unsure about than another shade called Urban Metallic Concrete Mist.

Thank you, Toyota.

I think.

Design

The new RAV4 is immediately recognisable, but there's considerably more polish to the design.

Toyota's latest front-end treatment gives it a cleaner, more contemporary appearance while retaining enough ruggedness to suit the Edge.

The Edge has traditionally been the more adventure-focused member of the RAV4 family, and visually that continues to work.

There's darker exterior trim.

More rugged detailing.

Chunkier elements around the lower body.

And enough distinction from the more road-focused variants to make it feel like more than simply another trim level.

Importantly, Toyota hasn't tried to turn the RAV4 into a coupe.

Thank you, Toyota.

The roof remains where roofs are useful.

Rear passengers retain headroom.

The boot remains properly shaped.

Visibility remains good.

Practicality survives.

Apparently SUVs can still be SUVs.

Interior

This is where the generational improvement becomes much more obvious.

The old RAV4 interior was functional.

Very functional.

Almost aggressively functional.

Everything worked.

Everything was logically positioned.

And absolutely nobody climbed into one and immediately called a friend to discuss the dashboard.

The new cabin feels considerably more contemporary.

The displays are larger and better integrated.

The infotainment system feels more modern.

Materials have improved.

There's a cleaner overall layout.

And importantly, Toyota hasn't completely abandoned physical controls.

You know what's coming.

Thank you, Toyota.

There are still buttons and switches for things you actually use.

Because when you're driving down a road at 100km/h, adjusting the climate control shouldn't require the accuracy of a bomb-disposal technician.

Technology should make things easier.

The RAV4 generally understands that.

Practicality

And here's where the RAV4 reminds you why Toyota sells so many of them.

It's easy.

Doors open wide.

There's plenty of space.

Visibility is good.

The rear seats comfortably accommodate adults.

There's room for children.

Storage exists where you expect storage to exist.

The boot is large and usefully shaped.

Nothing requires explanation.

This sounds like faint praise.

It isn't.

Designing something that disappears into your life is actually quite difficult.

You could own a RAV4 for years without ever thinking:

Why on earth did they put that there?

And for a family vehicle, that's enormously valuable.

School bags.

Groceries.

Sports equipment.

Airport runs.

Bunnings.

Road trips.

The RAV4 simply absorbs normal life.

Driving

And then we reach my problem.

The RAV4 drives perfectly well.

There's nothing fundamentally wrong with it.

The steering is light.

Visibility is excellent.

The ride is comfortable.

It's predictable.

Easy.

Unintimidating.

Exactly what a RAV4 should be.

But...

I wanted a little more.

Particularly from the powertrain.

There's enough performance for normal driving.

Of course there is.

It gets away from traffic lights.

Merges onto motorways.

Overtakes.

Climbs hills.

Everything required.

But when you ask for more enthusiastic acceleration, the experience feels strained rather than satisfying.

You press the accelerator.

The drivetrain considers your request.

The revs rise.

Noise increases.

Speed eventually follows.

And that's about it.

It's not slow enough to be problematic.

It's just not quick enough to be interesting.

Underpowered?

That's a difficult word.

Because saying something is underpowered suggests it doesn't have enough performance to perform its intended job.

That's not really true.

The RAV4 has enough.

But that's precisely the issue.

Enough.

There it is again.

Enough power.

Enough performance.

Enough response.

Nothing wrong.

Nothing memorable.

And after driving some of the increasingly powerful hybrids and PHEVs arriving in this segment, the Toyota can feel slightly flat.

Now, plenty of RAV4 buyers will reasonably respond:

"I don't care."

Fair.

You're probably right.

But this is The Driver's Briefing.

We notice these things.

The Hybrid Experience

Toyota knows hybrids.

That's hardly breaking news.

The company has spent decades refining the technology, and the RAV4 benefits enormously from that experience.

Around town, the transition between electric assistance and petrol power is generally smooth.

Low-speed driving is quiet.

Fuel consumption is excellent.

There's a seamlessness to the system that demonstrates just how long Toyota has been doing this.

It doesn't constantly announce what's happening.

There's no enormous animation explaining the energy flow every three seconds.

It simply manages everything.

And that's exactly how good hybrid technology should behave.

Thank you, Toyota.

But efficiency and excitement are different things.

The drivetrain succeeds brilliantly at the first.

Less so the second.

Ride and Handling

The RAV4 Edge feels comfortable and composed.

Suspension tuning is well suited to Australian everyday driving, absorbing poor surfaces without becoming overly soft.

There's reasonable body control through corners.

The steering is accurate.

The AWD system provides additional confidence on loose surfaces and in poor conditions.

Everything works.

Again.

Everything works.

But there's very little communication coming back through the controls.

You don't find yourself taking a corner and thinking:

Oh, that's nice.

You simply arrive on the other side.

That's completely acceptable in a family SUV.

But it brings us back to that question.

Does acceptable have to mean anonymous?

The Edge

The Edge badge suggests a little more adventure.

And to Toyota's credit, there's genuine additional capability here compared with purely road-focused versions.

The AWD system provides additional traction.

There's increased emphasis on loose-surface ability.

The exterior treatment suits trips beyond suburbia.

No, this isn't a LandCruiser.

Obviously.

But gravel roads.

Camping areas.

Beach access.

Wet paddocks.

Snow trips.

The sort of places most Australian family SUVs realistically encounter?

No problem.

And there's something reassuring about having that capability available even if you don't regularly use it.

Fuel Economy

And this is where the RAV4 starts reminding you why that slightly uninspiring powertrain exists.

The Edge is officially rated at 4.6L/100km combined.

For an AWD medium SUV of this size?

That's excellent.

And unlike some electrified vehicles where achieving anything remotely resembling the official figure requires favourable weather, a downhill gradient and the patience of a Buddhist monk, Toyota's hybrid systems have traditionally been remarkably good at delivering strong economy in normal driving.

Particularly around town.

That's where the hybrid system does its best work.

Low-speed electric assistance.

Regenerative braking.

Engine shutting down whenever it isn't required.

All happening quietly in the background.

And suddenly the thing I criticised earlier starts making considerably more sense.

Would I like more power?

Absolutely.

Would another 30 or 40kW make the RAV4 considerably more entertaining?

Probably.

But then you look at 4.6L/100km from a practical AWD family SUV and realise Toyota has clearly prioritised something else.

Efficiency.

And for the person actually buying one of these rather than borrowing it for a week and complaining that it needs more horsepower...

That's probably the correct decision.

Damn you, Toyota.

Stop being so sensible.

Cargo Space

Then there's the boot.

Toyota quotes up to 705 litres of cargo capacity across the new RAV4 range, and regardless of how you measure these things, the important bit becomes obvious the moment you open the tailgate:

There's a lot of room back there.

More importantly, it's useful room.

The opening is wide.

The floor is relatively flat.

The sides aren't unnecessarily sculpted in the pursuit of exterior styling.

And the Edge gets a powered tailgate, which becomes considerably more useful when you're standing behind the car holding approximately seventeen shopping bags because apparently making two trips from the car is a sign of personal weakness.

The rear seats split 60/40 and fold when you need additional space, turning the RAV4 into something capable of swallowing substantially larger loads.

And this is another area where I'm glad Toyota resisted the temptation to chase the coupe-SUV trend.

That relatively square roofline isn't particularly sexy.

Do you know what it is?

Useful.

Suitcases.

Prams.

Golf clubs.

School bags.

Camping gear.

The completely inexplicable amount of equipment required to take children anywhere for longer than twelve minutes.

Throw it in.

Close the tailgate.

Done.

And perhaps that's another clue to understanding the RAV4.

Toyota hasn't sacrificed practicality to make the thing look dramatic.

It's still fundamentally designed around the boring realities of family life.

Which might not give it much soul...

But it does give it a bloody good boot.

Technology

The new generation makes meaningful improvements here.

The infotainment system is faster and more modern.

The displays are clearer.

Smartphone connectivity is properly integrated.

There are surround-view cameras and a broad suite of driver assistance.

And most importantly...

The technology doesn't completely take over the experience.

After our recent time in the Triton Raider, I'm increasingly appreciating manufacturers that understand this.

Give me technology.

Absolutely.

But don't make me interact with it every seventeen seconds.

The RAV4 mostly stays out of your way.

That's good.

Safety

This is Toyota territory.

There's an extensive suite of active-safety technology covering autonomous emergency braking, adaptive cruise control, lane assistance, blind-spot monitoring and the usual collection of modern driver aids.

And Toyota has had plenty of time to refine how these systems behave.

That's important.

Because the best safety system is one you barely notice until you need it.

Not one you switch off every time you start the vehicle because it won't stop shouting at you.

Modern safety technology without the constant bings and bongs?

We're fans.

The Tucson Problem

And this is where the RAV4 started losing me.

Because while driving it, I kept thinking about the Hyundai Tucson N Line.

Not because the Hyundai completely destroys the Toyota in some objective spreadsheet comparison.

It doesn't.

The Toyota has enormous strengths.

Efficiency.

Practicality.

Reputation.

Resale.

Hybrid expertise.

The RAV4 makes an incredibly strong rational argument for itself.

But if you handed me my own money?

I think I'd walk towards the Hyundai.

Because the Tucson has something the Toyota struggles to provide.

Personality.

The N Line looks interesting.

The interior feels more distinctive.

There's a sense of occasion when you climb aboard.

And while neither vehicle is pretending to be a sports car, the Hyundai feels like somebody involved in developing it remembered that the person behind the steering wheel might occasionally want to enjoy being there.

That's important to me.

Perhaps it isn't important to you.

That's why choice exists.

The RAV4 Problem

And maybe Toyota is trapped by its own success.

The RAV4 has become successful precisely because it doesn't demand much from its owner.

It's dependable.

Efficient.

Practical.

Easy.

Uncontroversial.

Toyota could make it dramatically more adventurous.

But would the millions of people who already love the formula actually want that?

Probably not.

The RAV4 isn't trying to make you fall in love.

It's trying to make your life easier.

And judged against that objective?

It's excellent.

But I don't choose cars purely with my head.

Never have.

Probably never will.

And that's where the Toyota and I begin disagreeing.

Ownership

Here's where the head starts winning again.

Toyota's Australian dealer network is enormous.

Hybrid technology is well established.

Resale values have historically been strong.

Servicing is straightforward.

And the RAV4 name carries decades of recognition.

For someone planning to buy an SUV, use it for years and eventually sell it without drama, that's an enormously attractive proposition.

There's a reason these things are everywhere.

Toyota has made family-car ownership remarkably easy.

The new RAV4 doesn't throw that formula away.

It simply modernises it.

The Competition

And the competition has never been stronger.

Hyundai Tucson.

Kia Sportage.

Honda CR-V.

Nissan X-Trail.

Mazda CX-5 and its successors.

GWM Haval H6.

BYD.

And an increasingly aggressive collection of electrified alternatives.

Ten years ago, the RAV4 could lean heavily on reputation and practicality.

Today?

Everyone is good.

Some are extremely good.

So personality starts mattering.

Design matters.

Powertrain character matters.

Interior ambience matters.

The little things matter.

And that's where the RAV4 no longer gets an automatic pass simply because it's a Toyota.

Verdict

The 2026 Toyota RAV4 Edge is unquestionably better than the vehicle it replaces.

The interior is more modern.

The technology is better.

The design feels fresher.

It's practical.

Comfortable.

Efficient.

Easy to drive.

Easy to understand.

And likely very easy to own.

If somebody bought one tomorrow and asked whether they'd made a mistake?

Absolutely not.

It's an extremely competent family SUV.

But would I buy one?

That's where things become harder.

Because competence isn't the same thing as character.

The RAV4 did everything I asked of it.

It never annoyed me.

It never behaved badly.

It never gave me any serious reason to criticise it.

But it also rarely made me want to drive it.

The powertrain felt slightly underdone.

The driving experience felt distant.

And despite the substantial generational improvement, I kept searching for a little more personality.

A little more emotion.

A little more...

soul.

Maybe that's unfair.

It's a RAV4.

This is the car people buy because they need one vehicle to quietly handle almost everything life throws at them.

And the new one does that better than ever.

But rivals have demonstrated that practicality doesn't necessarily require personality to be sacrificed.

Which brings me back to the Tucson N Line.

If I were filling out a spreadsheet?

The Toyota would make an incredibly convincing case.

If you handed me the keys?

I'd probably choose the Hyundai.

And if you handed me the keys to this particular RAV4?

I'd still spend the first ten minutes trying to decide whether I liked Daintree Green.

Actually...

I think I do.

Maybe.

Ask me when the sun comes out.

Review: Mitsubishi Triton Raider

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Sometimes a car surprises you because it's faster than expected.

Sometimes it's more luxurious.

Sometimes somebody gives a completely ordinary family SUV 762Nm and you spend the next week wondering who approved that.

The Mitsubishi Triton Raider surprised me for a completely different reason.

It left me alone.

And I didn't realise how much I'd appreciate that.

Because modern cars are becoming exhausting.

Screens.

Menus.

Driver monitoring.

Lane warnings.

Speed warnings.

Attention warnings.

Seatbelt warnings.

Cameras watching your face.

Computers constantly checking whether your hands are on the steering wheel.

Somewhere along the way, driving a car started to feel like being supervised by an extremely anxious driving instructor.

Then I climbed into the Triton Raider.

Turned the key.

Selected Drive.

And drove away.

And...

That was basically it.

No technological circus.

No enormous screen demanding my attention.

No need to spend ten minutes configuring seventeen different vehicle settings before leaving the car park.

It just got on with the job.

And I liked it.

A lot more than I expected to.

What Is the Raider?

The Raider sits above the Triton GSR and represents Mitsubishi's locally developed answer to the growing collection of factory-backed, off-road-focused dual-cabs.

But this isn't simply a Triton with some decals and a set of chunky tyres.

Mitsubishi worked with Australian engineering firm Premcar to develop the Raider specifically for local conditions.

And Premcar knows this game rather well.

The company has already spent years developing Australian-market off-road vehicles, and the Raider receives a collection of meaningful changes rather than cosmetic theatre.

There are specially tuned Monroe dampers.

The front is lifted by 25mm, while the rear comes up 15mm.

The track is widened by 20mm.

There are 18-inch ROH Assault wheels wrapped in Bridgestone Dueler A/T 002 all-terrain tyres.

Additional underbody protection.

Side protection bars.

A sports bar.

And, yes, some Raider graphics.

Because apparently modifying a dual-cab ute without putting stickers on it remains illegal in Australia.

The important thing, though?

Premcar didn't simply bolt this stuff on and send it.

The Raider underwent around 40,000km of local development and durability testing.

That's the bit I care about.

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Price and Specifications

The Raider arrives at $74,990 drive-away, positioning it above the regular GSR while still undercutting some of the other locally enhanced off-road utes.

Under the bonnet is Mitsubishi's familiar 2.4-litre twin-turbocharged four-cylinder diesel, producing 150kW and 470Nm.

It's paired with a six-speed automatic transmission and Mitsubishi's excellent Super Select II four-wheel-drive system.

No additional power for the Raider.

And initially, part of me thought:

Really?

You've gone to all this effort.

Suspension.

Tyres.

Lift.

Protection.

Development.

Surely we could've found another 20kW somewhere?

But then you drive it.

And while more power would certainly be welcome, you realise that's not really what this vehicle is about.

The Raider isn't supposed to be a Raptor.

It's supposed to be a better Triton.

There's a difference.

Design

The latest Triton already has quite an aggressive face.

The Raider builds on it without going completely overboard.

The bronze 18-inch ROH wheels look excellent.

The all-terrain tyres fill the guards properly.

The increased ride height gives the vehicle a more purposeful stance.

There's a sports bar out back.

Additional protection down the sides.

And underneath, a Raider-branded bash plate provides a flash of red.

Then there are the graphics.

Mitsubishi describes them as Ralliart-inspired.

Fair enough.

They're not exactly subtle.

But neither is a lifted dual-cab on bronze wheels.

The overall package works.

Most importantly, it looks like the changes serve a purpose.

The wheels aren't enormous because somebody in marketing thought 22s would photograph well.

The tyres aren't low-profile.

The suspension hasn't been lowered.

Nothing here compromises the actual reason the vehicle exists.

Imagine that.

Thank you, Mitsubishi.

Interior

Climb inside and this is where some people are going to start criticising the Triton.

The infotainment screen is only 9.0 inches.

There are traditional analogue gauges surrounding a relatively modest digital display.

There are buttons everywhere.

Physical climate controls.

A conventional gear selector.

A rotary 4WD selector.

A button for the rear differential lock.

It doesn't look particularly futuristic.

And do you know what?

Good.

I loved it.

Because everything is where you expect it to be.

Want to change the temperature?

There's the control.

Want to adjust the fan?

There.

Want to select a different four-wheel-drive mode?

Turn the dial.

Want the rear differential lock?

Press the button.

Done.

No menus.

No swiping.

No hunting through an off-road app while the vehicle is sitting halfway up an obstacle.

Just controls.

You press them.

Things happen.

Thank you, Mitsubishi.

The Screen

And can we talk about the fact that a 9.0-inch infotainment screen now seems small?

When did that happen?

There was a time when having any screen in a ute felt luxurious.

Now we've got vehicles with displays large enough to host a PowerPoint presentation.

The Triton's screen looks almost quaint by comparison.

But here's the thing:

It works.

It has wireless Apple CarPlay.

Yes, Leapmotor.

I noticed.

It has Android Auto.

Satellite navigation.

Bluetooth.

And there are physical shortcut controls around it.

It doesn't dominate the dashboard.

It doesn't attempt to become the entire personality of the vehicle.

It's just...

A screen.

What a refreshing concept.

Simplicity

This was the thing that stayed with me.

The Triton Raider doesn't constantly remind you how technologically advanced it is.

And after driving so many modern cars that do exactly that, I found the experience strangely relaxing.

Get in.

Start it.

Drive.

There's still plenty of safety technology underneath.

Adaptive cruise.

Autonomous emergency braking.

Blind-spot monitoring.

Lane assistance.

Surround-view cameras.

All the modern necessities are there.

But the fundamental experience feels comparatively analogue.

And I think we've reached the point where that's becoming a luxury in itself.

Technology should help you.

It shouldn't constantly demand that you acknowledge its existence.

The Raider mostly understands that.

Mostly.

The Driver Monitoring System

I say mostly because there is one exception.

The driver monitoring system.

It's still a little too enthusiastic.

Look away for slightly too long and the Triton wants to discuss it.

Mitsubishi has apparently reduced its sensitivity, and importantly, it now takes only a couple of button presses to disable it.

So credit where it's due.

But given how much I enjoyed the rest of the Raider simply letting me drive...

This particular system feels slightly out of character.

Calm down.

I'm looking at the road.

We're okay.

Driving

The 2.4-litre diesel isn't a powerhouse.

150kW.

470Nm.

Perfectly respectable.

Not exciting.

Put your foot down and there is a moment where you might wish Premcar had been allowed to visit the engine bay with a laptop.

But the performance is adequate.

And the six-speed automatic generally gets on with things without drawing attention to itself.

There's enough torque down low.

Overtaking requires some planning but isn't difficult.

Highway cruising is relaxed.

Again:

It just does what you ask.

But the Raider starts separating itself from the regular Triton when the road gets rougher.

Premcar's Work

This is the clever bit.

The Raider doesn't feel like somebody simply installed a lift kit.

Premcar has actually tuned the suspension package around the vehicle.

The bespoke Monroe dampers improve body control while retaining enough compliance for everyday driving.

There's additional ride height.

The wider track helps stability.

And the Bridgestone all-terrain tyres provide considerably more off-road ability than the standard road-biased rubber.

Yet none of those changes ruin the vehicle on the road.

That's important.

Because it's easy to make a ute better off road.

Fit enormous tyres.

Lift it six inches.

Install extremely aggressive suspension.

Congratulations.

You've created something that's awful for the other 95 per cent of its life.

The Raider doesn't do that.

It's still a perfectly usable daily driver.

Just a more capable one.

That's good engineering.

Thank you, Premcar.

Off Road

And when the bitumen ends, everything starts making even more sense.

The Raider has 243mm of ground clearance, with an approach angle of 32.7 degrees, departure angle of 24.1 degrees and breakover angle of 24.8 degrees.

Then there's Super Select II.

This remains one of Mitsubishi's strongest assets.

Unlike many traditional part-time 4WD systems, Super Select II gives you the ability to run four-wheel drive on sealed surfaces through its centre differential.

That means you've got the flexibility of rear-wheel drive when you want it and all-wheel-drive security when conditions deteriorate.

Then when things become properly difficult?

Low range.

Terrain modes.

Rear differential lock.

Actual off-road hardware.

Again, no enormous animated graphic showing a digital ute climbing a mountain.

Turn the dial.

Press the button.

Drive up the actual mountain.

Perfect.

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The Tyres

The Bridgestone Dueler A/T 002s deserve mention because tyres can completely change a vehicle like this.

And they're properly useful here.

More aggressive than highway rubber without turning every motorway journey into a soundtrack of tyre roar.

There's considerably more bite on loose surfaces.

Mud.

Gravel.

Sand.

Rocky climbs.

That's where they earn their place.

They're also 285/60 R18s, giving you a healthy amount of sidewall rather than an enormous wheel surrounded by a decorative strip of rubber.

Because this is an off-road vehicle.

Sidewall is useful.

Thank you.

Towing and Payload

The Raider retains a 3,500kg braked towing capacity and carries a 990kg payload.

That's important because off-road specials sometimes become so heavy with accessories that their useful payload begins disappearing.

Here, the Raider loses only around 40kg compared with the regular GSR.

Still, as always, the 3.5-tonne number shouldn't be viewed in isolation.

Passengers.

Tow-ball download.

Accessories.

Gear.

GVM.

GCM.

It all matters.

But as a touring platform, the basic numbers stack up well.

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Comfort

The GSR-based cabin means the Raider gets leather-appointed seats, heating up front and power adjustment for the driver.

Would ventilated seats be nice?

Absolutely.

We've become spoiled.

But the seats themselves are comfortable and supportive.

There's good room in the second row.

Roof-mounted rear air vents are particularly welcome in Australia.

And the cabin feels like it could survive being used as an actual ute.

There's hard plastic.

Quite a lot of it.

Normally that's something reviewers criticise.

But I'm not sure I want the lower half of a 4WD ute interior covered in cream Alcantara.

Mud exists.

Children exist.

Work boots exist.

Sometimes wipe-clean plastic is exactly the correct material.

On the Road

Perhaps the biggest surprise is how well the Raider behaves on sealed roads.

The increased ride height doesn't result in enormous amounts of body roll.

The steering feels nicely weighted.

And Premcar's suspension changes keep the body controlled without making the ride unnecessarily harsh.

You still know you're driving a ladder-frame ute.

Obviously.

There's some movement over bumps.

The rear end reminds you there's a tray back there.

Nobody is going to confuse it with a 5 Series.

But there's an honesty to the way it drives.

It isn't pretending to be an SUV.

It's a ute.

A good one.

Technology Without the Circus

And I keep coming back to this.

Because the Raider has technology.

Plenty of it.

It just doesn't make technology the experience.

That's a distinction I think manufacturers are starting to lose.

A vehicle doesn't become better simply because the screen gets larger.

It doesn't become safer because it beeps more often.

It doesn't become more advanced because a physical button has been replaced with an animated icon.

Sometimes the better solution is the simple one.

A knob.

A switch.

A button.

Something you can operate while keeping your eyes outside the vehicle.

Especially in a ute designed to go off road.

The Raider reminded me how nice that can be.

Safety

The Triton carries a five-star ANCAP rating from its 2024 testing, scoring 86 per cent for adult occupant protection and 89 per cent for child occupant protection.

Eight airbags are fitted, alongside autonomous emergency braking, adaptive cruise control, blind-spot monitoring, lane-keeping assistance, front and rear cross-traffic systems, trailer stability assist and a surround-view camera.

So despite the comparatively simple presentation, this isn't an old-fashioned vehicle underneath.

That's precisely the point.

You can have modern safety technology without making the driver feel like they're operating a laptop.

Ownership

Mitsubishi's Australian warranty arrangement is unusual but potentially excellent.

Standard coverage is five years or 100,000km, but eligible owners who continue servicing through Mitsubishi's dealer network can extend that coverage annually up to 10 years or 200,000km.

Roadside assistance can similarly extend to ten years, while servicing intervals are 12 months or 15,000km.

And importantly for the Raider, the Premcar-developed modifications are integrated into the factory-backed package.

That's a major advantage over buying a GSR and immediately throwing an aftermarket catalogue at it.

The Competition

The Raider enters a very Australian little niche.

There's the Isuzu D-MAX Blade.

The Ford Ranger Tremor.

Premcar's own Navara Warrior products.

And then the enormous aftermarket waiting to modify virtually every dual-cab currently sold.

The Ranger has more power and a significantly more technologically impressive cabin.

The D-MAX has its own reputation for toughness and simplicity.

And plenty of buyers will reasonably ask whether they could buy a cheaper Triton and modify it themselves.

Of course you could.

But that's not really the point.

The Raider has been engineered as a package.

Suspension.

Wheels.

Tyres.

Stability systems.

Ground clearance.

Protection.

All designed to work together.

Then tested.

Then sold through Mitsubishi.

Then covered within the broader factory ownership proposition.

There's value in that.

Verdict

I didn't expect to like the Mitsubishi Triton Raider as much as I did.

And strangely, the thing I liked most wasn't the lift.

Or the tyres.

Or the suspension.

Or even its off-road ability.

It was the simplicity.

The Raider reminded me that a modern vehicle doesn't need to constantly entertain, monitor or communicate with you.

Sometimes you just want to get in and drive.

There are physical climate controls.

A normal gear selector.

Analogue gauges.

A modest touchscreen.

A rotary 4WD selector.

A proper differential-lock button.

Wireless Apple CarPlay.

All the technology you actually need.

And very little theatre surrounding it.

Then underneath that simplicity sits a genuinely well-engineered off-road package.

Premcar hasn't transformed the Triton into something it isn't.

It has simply taken the things the Triton already did well and made them better.

Better suspension.

Better tyres.

More clearance.

More protection.

More capability.

Could it use more power?

Absolutely.

Could the driver-monitoring system calm down?

Yes please.

Does the interior look a generation behind something like a Ranger?

Probably.

But after spending time in cars where seemingly every function requires a screen, every movement generates a warning and every drive begins with dismissing various notifications...

The Triton Raider felt refreshing.

Get in.

Start it.

Tell it what you want.

And it does it.

No argument.

No technology showcase.

No unnecessary drama.

Just a bloody good ute getting on with its job.

Sometimes progress isn't adding more.

Sometimes it's knowing when you've added enough.

Thank you, Mitsubishi

Review: Leapmotor C10 BEV

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I wanted to like the Leapmotor C10.

Really.

Because this is exactly the sort of car that should be interesting.

A new manufacturer.

A fully electric medium SUV.

Loads of equipment.

A spacious interior.

Aggressive pricing.

And the backing of Stellantis — the enormous automotive group behind brands including Jeep, Peugeot, Fiat and Maserati.

The ingredients are there.

But after spending time with the C10, I kept coming back to one word.

Boring.

Not bad.

That's important.

There isn't some catastrophic flaw that makes the C10 impossible to recommend.

It drives.

It's comfortable.

It's quiet.

There's plenty of space.

The interior is actually rather nice.

And as a method of transporting people from one location to another, it performs the job perfectly adequately.

But cars don't exist on specification sheets.

And increasingly, the affordable electric-SUV market is full of genuinely interesting alternatives.

The C10 just didn't make me feel anything.

Actually, that's not entirely true.

The lack of Apple CarPlay made me feel something.

We'll get to that.

What Exactly Is a Leapmotor?

Fair question.

Leapmotor is a relatively young Chinese manufacturer founded in 2015, with a focus on electric and electrified vehicles.

More importantly for Australian buyers, automotive giant Stellantis invested heavily in the company and subsequently established Leapmotor International to distribute its vehicles into markets outside China.

So while the badge might be unfamiliar, there is some serious automotive infrastructure sitting behind it.

The C10 became Leapmotor's first model in Australia.

And on paper, it makes plenty of sense.

Medium SUV.

Electric.

Rear-wheel drive in the mainstream versions.

Big touchscreen.

Big interior.

Plenty of equipment.

Competitive price.

Basically, take the formula that has made the Tesla Model Y so successful and make it considerably cheaper.

Nothing wrong with that.

The problem is that everyone else had roughly the same idea.

Design

Look at the C10.

Now look away.

Without looking back, describe it.

Exactly.

There's nothing particularly offensive about the design.

The proportions are neat enough.

There's the expected full-width lighting treatment.

Flush door handles.

Smooth surfaces.

Aerodynamic wheels.

Minimal grille.

All the things we've collectively decided an electric SUV is supposed to have.

But there's very little identity.

Park it among the rapidly growing collection of Chinese electric SUVs entering Australia and I'm not convinced the average person could immediately tell you which one it was.

Compare that with something like a Hyundai IONIQ 5.

You might love the Hyundai.

You might hate it.

But you'll remember it.

The Leapmotor?

Hmm.

It's clean.

It's modern.

It's...

Fine.

And unfortunately, fine is going to become something of a recurring theme.

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Interior

Things improve considerably inside.

The cabin is spacious, particularly in the second row, and there's an impressive amount of soft-touch material throughout.

The overall design is minimalist.

Very minimalist.

There's a large 14.6-inch central touchscreen, a separate digital instrument display and relatively little conventional switchgear cluttering the dashboard.

Material quality is better than the badge recognition might lead you to expect.

The seats are comfortable.

There's plenty of storage.

Rear-seat passengers get generous legroom.

And the flat floor makes the cabin feel open.

If you're judging interiors purely by how expensive they look relative to the price of the vehicle, the C10 actually performs rather well.

But then you try to operate it.

And we need to talk about screens again.

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Buttons Are Not The Enemy

Almost everything lives inside the touchscreen.

Climate controls.

Vehicle settings.

Driving functions.

Air vents.

Various assistance systems.

You get the idea.

Now, we've established something during our recent reviews.

The Driver's Briefing likes physical controls.

Not because we're terrified of technology.

Not because we're nostalgic for dashboards containing 900 identical grey buttons.

Because some functions are simply easier to operate when you can feel the control without looking at it.

Temperature.

Fan speed.

Demisting.

Volume.

Basic things.

Touchscreens are fantastic for maps.

They're excellent for cameras.

They're brilliant for displaying information.

But replacing every physical interaction with a touchscreen doesn't automatically make something better.

Sometimes it simply makes it harder to use.

The C10 falls too far towards the latter.

And then...

Oh dear.

Apple CarPlay

There isn't any.

Apple CarPlay.

In 2026.

No.

And before somebody emails us explaining that the C10 has its own connected infotainment system:

I know.

There's built-in navigation.

There's an app store.

You can access Spotify and other services directly through the vehicle.

There's Bluetooth connectivity.

There's even a voice assistant.

That's lovely.

I still want Apple CarPlay.

Because my phone already knows where I'm going.

It already has my music.

My podcasts.

My contacts.

My messages.

My preferred navigation apps.

My entire digital life is already sitting in my pocket.

I don't particularly want to recreate part of it inside every car I drive.

And this isn't simply a feature Leapmotor forgot to enable.

The current C10 uses the company's older LEAP 3.0 architecture, and Leapmotor has confirmed the hardware doesn't support Apple CarPlay or Android Auto.

The newer B10?

That uses LEAP 3.5 and has already received both systems.

Which somehow makes this more frustrating.

Because we know Leapmotor understands that people want it.

Just not if you've bought a C10.

In 2026, in a car whose entire interior philosophy revolves around one enormous touchscreen, omitting the smartphone integration used by millions of people is baffling.

No thank you, Leapmotor.

There.

We've done it.

The Driver's Briefing “thank you” has officially gone negative.

Driving

Things improve once you stop interacting with the infotainment system and start actually driving.

Sort of.

The C10 is quiet.

Obviously.

It's electric.

Power delivery is smooth and immediate.

Around town, there's enough performance to make merging and navigating traffic effortless.

The low-speed refinement is good.

The steering is light.

Visibility is reasonable.

And the overall experience is incredibly easy.

But...

There's that word again.

Boring.

The steering doesn't tell you much.

The chassis doesn't particularly encourage you to explore it.

The drivetrain delivers its performance efficiently but without much personality.

There's nothing wrong with any of this.

Most buyers of medium family SUVs aren't heading out on Sunday mornings to explore steering feedback.

I understand that.

But even ordinary cars can have character.

The IONIQ 5 has character.

A Model Y has a very particular personality.

Plenty of conventional petrol and hybrid SUVs have their own distinct feel.

The C10 feels like transportation.

You press the accelerator.

It accelerates.

You turn the steering wheel.

It turns.

You press the brake pedal.

It stops.

All very successful.

Next question.

The Problem With Competence

And this is perhaps the central problem.

The C10 is competent.

Competence used to be enough.

Build an affordable car.

Make it comfortable.

Give it lots of equipment.

Price it aggressively.

Done.

But look at the Australian market now.

Chinese manufacturers are arriving seemingly every month.

BYD.

GWM.

Chery.

XPeng.

Deepal.

Leapmotor.

And more are coming.

Simply being inexpensive and well equipped isn't unusual anymore.

It's the entry requirement.

So what makes your car special?

That's the question Leapmotor needs to answer.

And after driving the C10...

I'm not sure.

Comfort

Credit where it's due.

The C10 is comfortable.

The suspension is clearly tuned towards everyday usability rather than pretending this family SUV has any interest in setting a Nürburgring lap time.

Thank you, Leapmotor.

See?

We're friends again.

Around town, the ride deals reasonably well with ordinary road imperfections, and the quiet electric drivetrain makes the C10 an easy vehicle to spend time in.

The seats are comfortable.

Rear passengers have loads of room.

There's very little drivetrain noise.

For school runs, commuting and suburban driving, it's entirely pleasant.

And perhaps that's exactly what some buyers want.

Not every car needs to entertain its driver.

But The Driver's Briefing is called The Driver's Briefing.

We're allowed to want a little more.

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Performance

The BEV drivetrain provides the instant response we've become accustomed to from electric vehicles.

And this creates another strange problem for modern EVs.

Electric motors are so fundamentally good at delivering torque that being quick isn't special anymore.

Ten years ago, immediate acceleration from a family SUV would've been remarkable.

Today?

It's just what EVs do.

Which means manufacturers need to find personality somewhere else.

Steering.

Chassis tuning.

Design.

Interior.

Software.

Something.

Performance alone can't carry the experience anymore.

And the C10 doesn't give you enough elsewhere to become memorable.

Range and Charging

For everyday use, the C10's electric driving range is entirely workable.

Home charging remains the ideal ownership scenario.

Come home.

Plug it in.

Go inside.

Wake up with charge.

Simple.

Long-distance travel naturally requires more planning, as it does with virtually every EV, and charging performance depends on the exact C10 variant.

But none of this is particularly unusual anymore.

And again, that's the problem.

A few years ago, simply offering a usable electric SUV at an attainable price was noteworthy.

In 2026?

The bar has moved.

Quickly.

Technology

There's certainly plenty of technology.

The problem is how much of the vehicle depends on it.

The central display controls an enormous number of functions, and Leapmotor clearly wants the infotainment system to become the centre of the ownership experience.

There's built-in connectivity.

Apps.

Voice control.

Navigation.

Over-the-air updates.

Various vehicle modes.

On paper, excellent.

But technology should reduce friction.

Not create it.

If I need to think harder about performing a simple task because the physical button has been replaced by a screen interaction, the technology hasn't improved the experience.

It's simply changed it.

And if you're going to make the touchscreen the centre of everything...

give me Apple CarPlay.

I'm sorry.

I'm not letting this go.

Safety

The C10 comes with the broad collection of active-safety technology we've come to expect.

Adaptive cruise control.

Autonomous emergency braking.

Lane assistance.

Blind-spot monitoring.

Driver monitoring.

Various warnings and interventions.

There's plenty watching over you.

Perhaps occasionally too much.

Earlier C10s attracted criticism for overbearing driver-assistance warnings, and Leapmotor has subsequently made software changes in response to Australian feedback.

That's worth acknowledging.

Manufacturers listening to customers and improving vehicles through software updates is one of the genuine advantages of increasingly connected cars.

So:

Thank you, Leapmotor.

More of that.

Practicality

This is one of the C10's stronger areas.

The second row is genuinely spacious.

There's plenty of legroom.

The flat floor helps.

The cabin feels airy.

And the boot is useful enough for normal family life.

Shopping.

School bags.

Suitcases.

The collection of completely inexplicable objects children apparently need for a two-hour drive.

It'll handle them.

As a family appliance, the C10 makes considerably more sense than it does as something you'd buy because you love cars.

And I don't mean appliance entirely as an insult.

A good appliance makes life easier.

It works.

It's reliable.

It's simple.

You don't necessarily need to feel emotionally attached to your refrigerator.

But refrigerators also don't cost tens of thousands of dollars.

Value

And here's where the C10 fights back.

Because Leapmotor has always priced this thing aggressively.

You get a lot of car.

A lot of space.

A lot of equipment.

And an electric drivetrain without stepping into premium-EV money.

That matters.

For somebody whose purchasing spreadsheet contains:

Electric.

SUV.

Spacious.

Comfortable.

Well equipped.

Affordable.

The C10 will tick an impressive number of boxes.

And maybe that's enough.

But I think the competition has become too good for us to stop there.

The Competition

This segment is brutal.

Tesla Model Y.

Kia EV5.

Hyundai's electric offerings.

BYD.

XPeng.

Deepal.

And increasingly more.

Some offer stronger brand recognition.

Some better software.

Some better charging.

Some more interesting design.

Some are simply nicer to drive.

The C10's value remains important.

But cheap electric SUVs aren't novel anymore.

And that's why Leapmotor needs to give buyers a stronger reason to choose this one.

Being affordable gets you onto the shopping list.

Character gets you remembered.

Verdict

The Leapmotor C10 isn't a bad car.

I want to make that clear.

It's spacious.

Comfortable.

Quiet.

Well equipped.

Relatively affordable.

And for somebody who simply wants an electric family SUV to perform the daily grind without fuss, there's an argument to be made.

But when I handed the C10 back, I didn't miss it.

I didn't find myself thinking about some clever detail.

There wasn't a particular road where I wished I could turn around and drive it again.

I didn't walk away and look back at it.

It was...

boring.

And perhaps that's a harsher criticism than pointing out something it does badly.

Bad suspension can be fixed.

Software can be updated.

Styling can change with a facelift.

But character?

That's harder.

The electric-car market has matured enormously.

Simply being electric isn't interesting anymore.

Simply being Chinese and inexpensive isn't interesting anymore.

Simply putting a giant screen in the middle of the dashboard isn't interesting anymore.

Cars need an identity.

A reason to choose them.

Something that makes you remember them after the keys have gone back.

The C10 didn't give me that.

And then there's Apple CarPlay.

Or rather...

There isn't.

A technologically focused electric vehicle launched into an intensely competitive market, built around an enormous central touchscreen...

without Apple CarPlay or Android Auto.

In 2026.

Come on.

No thank you, Leapmotor.

The C10 does almost everything adequately.

I just wish it gave me one reason to care.

Review: Genesis G80 Black

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Black.

That's it.

That's the name.

Not Night Edition.

Not Shadow Line.

Not Dark Appearance Package.

Not some combination of letters and numbers requiring a decoder ring to understand.

Genesis G80 Black.

Thank you, Genesis.

And remarkably, the name tells you almost everything you need to know.

The paint is black.

The wheels are black.

The grille is black.

The badges are black.

Much of the interior is black.

If Genesis could have found a way to make the tyres more black, I'm fairly sure they would have done that too.

Normally, this sort of treatment risks feeling slightly juvenile.

The automotive equivalent of putting on sunglasses indoors and hoping everyone notices.

But the G80 Black is different.

Because underneath all the darkness is one of the most elegant luxury sedans currently on sale.

And somehow, removing the chrome and colour hasn't made the G80 look more aggressive.

It's made it look more expensive.

That's an impressive trick.

Price and Key Specifications

The G80 Black sits at the top end of Genesis's Australian luxury sedan offering, combining the updated G80 with an extensive collection of blacked-out exterior and interior details.

Underneath, however, this remains fundamentally the G80 we've come to know.

And that's a very good starting point.

Power comes from Genesis's 3.5-litre twin-turbocharged V6, producing around 279kW and 530Nm, sent through an eight-speed automatic transmission and all-wheel-drive system.

Those numbers are substantial.

But they aren't really the point.

This isn't trying to be an M5.

Or an AMG E63.

Or anything else designed to make your passengers reconsider getting into the car with you.

It's a luxury sedan.

Remember those?

Low.

Long.

Quiet.

Comfortable.

The sort of vehicle people bought before apparently deciding every car needed to be an SUV.

The G80 Black simply takes that formula and gives it considerably more attitude.

Design

Look at it.

Seriously.

Genesis might currently have one of the strongest design languages in the automotive industry.

The enormous Crest grille dominates the front, flanked by the brand's signature Two-Line lighting treatment.

Those two horizontal lines continue visually through the side indicators and into the rear lighting.

It's distinctive.

Not because somebody added seventeen creases to the bodywork.

Not because the grille is illuminated.

Not because a badge projects onto the ground when you unlock it.

Because the proportions are right.

Long bonnet.

Cabin pushed rearward.

Wide stance.

Low roof.

Simple surfaces.

The G80 looks like a luxury sedan should.

Then Black removes virtually every bright exterior element.

The grille surround?

Black.

Badges?

Black.

Window trim?

Black.

Wheels?

Black.

Even smaller details that would normally be finished in chrome or satin metallic have been darkened.

And it works.

Really, really well.

There's an elegance to the standard G80.

The Black adds menace.

Not “modified outside a tyre shop on Friday night” menace.

More...

“the person getting out of this probably knows something you don't.”

That's the vibe.

The Wheels

We need to talk about the wheels.

Because black wheels can be dangerous territory.

Do them badly and an expensive car immediately looks like somebody attacked the factory alloys with three cans of spray paint.

Genesis hasn't done that.

The Black receives unique dark-finished alloy wheels that retain enough design detail to avoid disappearing completely into the tyres.

And importantly, Genesis hasn't plastered enormous coloured brake calipers behind them purely for contrast.

Restraint.

Again.

There's a theme developing here.

Luxury doesn't always need to shout.

Sometimes the most expensive-looking thing you can do is remove things.

The G80 Black understands that.

Interior

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Open the door and Genesis continues the theme.

Black.

Everywhere.

But again, this isn't simply the regular interior with somebody selecting the darkest upholstery option.

Genesis has gone considerably further.

The switchgear.

Trim.

Speaker grilles.

Badging.

Various metallic elements.

All darkened.

Even areas you'd normally expect to provide a flash of brightwork have been brought into the theme.

This could have made the cabin feel oppressive.

It doesn't.

Because texture does the work that colour normally would.

Leather.

Suede.

Metal.

Different finishes catch the light differently.

And the ambient lighting provides just enough contrast to prevent everything becoming one enormous dark surface.

It's beautifully executed.

The seats are superb.

The driving position is excellent.

Material quality is genuinely premium.

And importantly, it doesn't feel like Genesis is trying to imitate one particular German manufacturer.

It has its own identity now.

That's a significant achievement.

Screens and Buttons

There's a large display across the dashboard.

Of course there is.

It's 2026.

Apparently fitting a car with anything smaller than a cinema screen now constitutes a human-rights violation.

But Genesis hasn't completely surrendered to the touchscreen.

There are still physical controls for important functions.

You can adjust things without poking through endless menus.

There's a rotary controller.

Actual switchgear.

Real tactile feedback.

Thank you, Genesis.

We like screens.

They're excellent for maps.

They're excellent for cameras.

They're excellent for displaying information.

But sometimes I just want to turn something.

Genesis understands.

Rear Seat

The G80 is one of those cars where you occasionally wonder whether you've chosen the wrong seat.

Because the back is lovely.

There's generous legroom.

Excellent seat comfort.

Beautiful materials.

And enough isolation from the outside world that longer journeys become genuinely relaxing.

This is something traditional luxury sedans have always done brilliantly.

And it's increasingly forgotten as manufacturers chase sporty SUV dynamics.

Not every passenger wants to feel the road.

Sometimes they want the road to go away.

The G80 is very good at making that happen.

Driving

Press the starter button and the twin-turbo V6 settles quietly into the background.

Good.

That's where it belongs.

There's 530Nm, so performance is never an issue.

Press the accelerator and the G80 moves with authority.

Strongly.

Smoothly.

Without drama.

There's no need for theatrical exhaust noises.

No aggressive gearbox behaviour.

No suspension suddenly attempting to remove your fillings.

It simply goes.

That's luxury performance.

Effort rather than excitement.

The eight-speed automatic suits the character beautifully.

Left alone, it shifts quietly and unobtrusively.

Ask for more and it'll hold gears longer and make better use of the V6.

But most of the time?

Leave it alone.

Let the torque do the work.

The Engine

And can we appreciate something for a moment?

A 3.5-litre twin-turbo V6.

No four-cylinder hybrid system.

No artificial engine soundtrack desperately trying to convince you that four cylinders are actually eight.

No tiny engine being asked to produce the power output of a small electrical substation.

Just six cylinders.

Two turbos.

530Nm.

In a proper luxury sedan.

Thank you, Genesis.

Will electrification eventually reach everything?

Probably.

Does that mean we shouldn't appreciate engines like this while they're still here?

Absolutely not.

Ride

This is perhaps the G80's greatest strength.

It rides beautifully.

And that sentence shouldn't be unusual in a luxury sedan review.

Yet somehow it is.

Somewhere along the way, manufacturers became convinced that every premium vehicle needed enormous wheels and suspension calibrated by somebody who considers the Nürburgring an acceptable commute.

Genesis hasn't forgotten the brief.

The G80 is composed.

Controlled.

But comfortable.

Poor surfaces are absorbed rather than announced.

Expansion joints remain outside the cabin where they belong.

And at highway speeds, the G80 settles into the sort of relaxed rhythm that makes enormous distances disappear.

This is what luxury suspension should do.

Not impress you with how sophisticated it is.

Make you forget it's there.

Handling

Comfort doesn't mean incapable.

There's plenty of grip.

The steering is accurate.

The AWD system provides confidence when conditions deteriorate.

And the chassis remains impressively composed if you decide to increase the pace.

But the G80 never pretends to be something it isn't.

It doesn't suddenly become a sports sedan because you've selected Sport mode.

Good.

It weighs a lot.

It's long.

It's luxurious.

Let it be those things.

There's a growing obsession with making every car capable of everything.

Luxury cars need to handle like sports cars.

Sports cars need to work like family cars.

SUVs need to lap racetracks.

Why?

Specialisation is good.

The G80 specialises in making you comfortable while travelling quickly.

That's enough.

Quiet

There's another luxury feature manufacturers can't put an enormous badge on.

Silence.

The G80 is extremely quiet.

Wind noise is beautifully suppressed.

Tyre noise is distant.

The V6 disappears almost completely when cruising.

And the structure feels solid.

This matters.

You can fit every screen, massaging seat and ambient-lighting strip available, but if the cabin fills with tyre roar at 110km/h, the illusion disappears.

Real luxury often isn't what you notice.

It's what you don't notice.

Noise.

Vibration.

Harshness.

Effort.

Genesis gets this.

Technology

Naturally, the G80 Black is loaded.

Large infotainment display.

Digital instrumentation.

Head-up display.

Surround-view cameras.

Premium audio.

Wireless smartphone connectivity.

Driver-assistance systems.

The usual modern luxury catalogue.

Genesis also continues to offer its excellent Blind-Spot View Monitor, displaying a camera feed within the instrument cluster when you indicate.

We've said this before.

We'll continue saying it.

Why doesn't everyone do this?

It's brilliant.

Useful.

Simple.

Exactly what automotive technology should be.

Safety

There's an extensive suite of active-safety equipment.

Autonomous emergency braking.

Adaptive cruise control.

Lane-keeping assistance.

Blind-spot collision avoidance.

Rear cross-traffic assistance.

Surround-view cameras.

Multiple airbags.

Everything you'd expect.

And importantly, much of it works quietly enough in the background that you're not constantly reminded it's there.

Safety technology should intervene when required.

Not spend every journey behaving like your nervous grandmother is sitting in the passenger seat.

Some manufacturers could take notes.

Ownership

Genesis continues to approach ownership differently from the traditional luxury establishment.

Rather than simply selling you a premium car and introducing you to the service department afterwards, the brand has historically placed considerable emphasis on concierge-style servicing and broader ownership support.

That matters.

Because luxury isn't just leather.

It's convenience.

If somebody can remove an annoying task from your life, that's arguably worth more than another ambient-lighting colour.

The Genesis dealer footprint still isn't comparable with BMW or Mercedes-Benz.

That's a consideration depending on where you live.

But the ownership proposition itself remains compelling.

The Competition

And now we reach the difficult part.

Because the G80 competes against some very serious machinery.

The BMW 5 Series.

The Mercedes-Benz E-Class.

The Audi A6.

Perhaps even larger luxury sedans depending on how you configure them.

These are established names.

Decades of history.

Enormous brand recognition.

And for some buyers, that badge matters.

There's nothing wrong with admitting that.

Luxury purchases aren't purely rational.

But take the badges away.

Sit inside them.

Look at the equipment.

Drive them.

Compare the ride.

Then look at the price.

Suddenly the Genesis becomes considerably harder to dismiss.

It doesn't feel like a cheaper alternative to a German luxury sedan.

It feels like a different luxury sedan.

That's a crucial distinction.

The Badge

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Let's address it.

Yes.

It's a Genesis.

For some people spending this much money, they'd rather have a BMW roundel, Mercedes star or four Audi rings on the bonnet.

Fair enough.

But Genesis has reached the point where apologising for the badge feels unnecessary.

The cars are good.

The design is distinctive.

The interiors are excellent.

The powertrains are strong.

The ownership experience is compelling.

At some point, a luxury brand stops needing to explain why it belongs.

It simply belongs.

Genesis is getting very close to that point.

If it isn't there already.

Verdict

The G80 Black is fundamentally quite a simple idea.

Take an already excellent luxury sedan.

Remove the chrome.

Darken virtually everything.

Give it a suitably sinister appearance.

Done.

It could have been gimmicky.

It could have looked aftermarket.

It could have been nothing more than a cosmetic exercise designed to squeeze another variant into the range.

Instead, it somehow amplifies everything I already like about the G80.

The proportions look better.

The details feel more deliberate.

The interior feels more intimate.

And the entire car carries itself with a quiet confidence that suits Genesis remarkably well.

But the Black treatment isn't why the G80 is good.

That's important.

Underneath it remains a comfortable, refined, beautifully finished luxury sedan with a powerful twin-turbo V6 and enough technology to compete with considerably more established names.

It's not trying to out-BMW BMW.

It's not trying to out-Mercedes Mercedes.

It's increasingly just being Genesis.

And I think that's why the Black works.

There's no enormous badge announcing what you've bought.

No wild colour.

No fake aggression.

No desperate attempt to attract attention.

Just a long, low luxury sedan finished almost entirely in black.

And somehow...

Everyone looks anyway.

Genesis G80 Black.

No ridiculous name.

No unnecessary explanation.

Just Black.

Thank you, Genesis.

Review: Toyota GR Corolla

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A Corolla.

Let's begin there.

For generations, those two words have represented perhaps the safest automotive recommendation on Earth.

Need something reliable?

Corolla.

Cheap to run?

Corolla.

First car?

Corolla.

Need something that'll probably still start after humanity has abandoned Earth and cockroaches have inherited our cities?

Corolla.

Nobody traditionally bought one because it made them giggle.

Then Toyota apparently lost its mind.

Because sitting before us now is the GR Corolla.

A turbocharged three-cylinder engine.

All-wheel drive.

A manual gearbox.

Bulging wheel arches.

Serious brakes.

Proper performance tyres.

And enough attitude to make you wonder whether somebody accidentally allowed Toyota's motorsport department access to the family hatchback after hours.

This isn't a Corolla with some red stitching and a Sport badge.

It's not an appearance package.

It's not marketing.

It's a genuinely serious performance car.

And perhaps the most surprising thing isn't that Toyota built it.

It's that Toyota built it properly.

Price and Key Specifications

Under the bonnet sits one of the strangest engines currently fitted to a performance car.

Just three cylinders.

1.6 litres.

Turbocharged.

And producing around 221kW and 400Nm.

Read that again.

Three cylinders.

There are lawnmowers with fewer cylinders than some people's motorcycles, and Toyota is extracting more than 200kW from an engine you could probably carry under one arm.

Probably don't.

It would be hot.

The engine is paired with Toyota's GR-FOUR all-wheel-drive system, developed with considerable influence from the company's rally program.

Depending on specification, buyers can choose a proper six-speed manual transmission, while Toyota has also expanded the GR Corolla offering with an automatic option for those who want the performance without operating three pedals.

We'll come back to that.

Because we need to talk about the manual.

Obviously.

Design

Park a GR Corolla beside the regular hatchback and things start making considerably more sense.

The basic shape is familiar.

But virtually everything underneath it appears angrier.

The guards are wider.

Much wider.

The stance is lower.

There are enormous openings across the front bumper.

Functional vents extract air from the bodywork.

There's a substantial rear spoiler.

And at the back you'll find one of the GR Corolla's most wonderfully unnecessary details:

three exhaust outlets.

One on each side.

And another right in the middle.

Why?

Because three-cylinder engine?

Symmetry?

Rally car?

Some engineer thought it looked cool?

I genuinely don't care.

They're real.

All three of them.

Thank you, Toyota.

Regular readers know how we feel about fake exhausts around here.

If you're going to put three enormous pipes across the back of a Corolla, they had better actually be connected to something.

They are.

Approved.

Interior

And then you climb inside and...

Well.

It's still a Corolla.

Mostly.

This is perhaps one area where the GR Corolla doesn't completely disguise its relatively humble origins.

The fundamental dashboard architecture is familiar.

Some plastics remind you that underneath all the GR engineering sits a mass-market hatchback.

And nobody is going to confuse the cabin with something from Porsche.

But I'm okay with that.

Because Toyota has spent the money elsewhere.

There are supportive sports seats.

A GR-specific digital instrument display.

A proper steering wheel.

Physical controls for important functions.

And — in the manual —

a gear lever.

A real one.

Connected to an actual manual gearbox.

In 2026.

We need to appreciate these things while we still can.

Thank you, Toyota.

The driving position is good, the major controls fall naturally to hand and there's very little unnecessary theatre.

This isn't pretending to be luxurious.

It's trying to make you want to drive.

Different objective.

The Manual

Right.

Can we have a moment?

Because manual performance cars are disappearing.

Not slowly anymore.

Quickly.

Dual-clutch and modern automatic transmissions are faster.

They shift more consistently.

They produce better acceleration figures.

They often improve fuel economy.

They make cars easier to drive in traffic.

All true.

I don't care.

There's something fundamentally satisfying about operating a performance car yourself.

Clutch in.

Select gear.

Clutch out.

Get it right and there's a little moment of satisfaction every single time.

Get it wrong?

That's on you.

And that's important.

Modern cars increasingly remove opportunities for drivers to make mistakes.

The GR Corolla still asks something from you.

You're involved.

Toyota's intelligent manual transmission can assist with rev matching, making smooth downshifts easier when you're pushing on.

But you still have to do the work.

Good.

That's why we're here.

Driving

Start the GR Corolla and that tiny three-cylinder immediately makes itself known.

There's an unusual off-beat character to it.

It doesn't sound like a four-cylinder hot hatch.

It doesn't sound like a six.

Obviously.

It has three cylinders.

But there's personality.

And as revs build, the little 1.6-litre becomes increasingly enthusiastic.

Turbo lag?

There's some.

And I like that.

Not because lag is objectively better.

It isn't.

But because it gives the engine character.

There's a moment where you're waiting.

Then boost arrives.

And suddenly the Corolla is very interested in whatever you just asked it to do.

Keep the engine in its sweet spot and performance is properly strong.

Not EV-style “my eyeballs have moved three centimetres backwards” acceleration.

Something more interactive.

More mechanical.

More entertaining.

You're changing gears.

Listening to the engine.

Feeling the boost.

Working with the car.

Remember that?

GR-FOUR

Then there's the all-wheel-drive system.

And this is where the GR Corolla stops feeling like a modified family hatchback and starts revealing how seriously Toyota approached the project.

The GR-FOUR system can alter how torque is distributed between the front and rear axles depending on the selected drive mode and conditions.

The result is enormous traction.

You can get onto the power early coming out of a corner and the Corolla simply hooks up and goes.

But it doesn't feel numb.

That's important.

Some AWD performance cars are incredibly effective but slightly clinical.

Point.

Accelerate.

Repeat.

The GR Corolla has more personality than that.

You can feel the drivetrain working.

There's adjustability.

There's movement.

And when you start leaning on it, the chassis feels like it wants to participate rather than simply prevent you from doing something stupid.

This is a car designed by people who enjoy driving.

You can tell.

Corners

This is where everything comes together.

The GR Corolla feels alive.

The steering is quick.

The front end responds eagerly.

There's loads of grip.

The body remains tightly controlled.

And the relatively compact dimensions mean you're not constantly aware of two tonnes of SUV trying to negotiate physics behind you.

Remember light-ish cars?

They're excellent.

Brake late.

Turn in.

Feel the chassis settle.

Feed the power back in.

Grab another gear.

Go again.

There's a rhythm to driving something like this that raw acceleration figures simply cannot communicate.

A 700kW electric SUV would annihilate the GR Corolla from a traffic light.

Fine.

Let it.

I'll take the Corolla down the winding road.

Brakes

Toyota hasn't forgotten about stopping either.

Large ventilated brakes provide the sort of pedal confidence you need when repeatedly slowing from higher speeds.

And importantly, the pedal itself feels natural.

There's no strange regenerative transition.

No software deciding how much braking you actually requested.

You press the pedal.

Hydraulic pressure moves brake fluid.

Pads squeeze discs.

Car slows down.

It's almost quaint.

And wonderful.

Ride

Here's the compromise.

The GR Corolla is firm.

Obviously.

You don't bolt serious suspension underneath a compact hatchback and accidentally end up with a Lexus.

Poor road surfaces make themselves known.

Expansion joints aren't filtered into vague suggestions.

Potholes?

You'll know about them.

But it isn't intolerable.

There's enough compliance that the car remains usable every day, and that's important because underneath everything else, this is still a Corolla.

You can commute in it.

You can go shopping.

You can put people in the back.

You can fold the seats down.

You can drive to work Monday morning.

Then take the long way home.

Very, very long way.

Practicality

And that's one of the GR Corolla's greatest tricks.

It's still a hatchback.

There are five doors.

Rear seats.

A usable boot.

ISOFIX points.

Cupholders.

You can perform all the normal boring activities associated with adulthood.

Then you press the starter button and suddenly none of those things seem particularly relevant.

That's the hot-hatch formula.

And it's why these cars have always been so appealing.

One car.

Multiple personalities.

Responsible adult at 8:00am.

Idiot on a mountain road at 6:00pm.

Perfect.

Technology

There is technology here.

But mercifully, it isn't the point.

There's a digital instrument display.

Touchscreen infotainment.

Smartphone connectivity.

Driver assistance.

All the things a modern car apparently needs.

But none of it dominates the experience.

There's no enormous 40-inch screen stretching across the dashboard.

No augmented-reality avatar.

No artificial intelligence asking how your day was.

The interesting technology is underneath you.

The AWD system.

The turbocharged three-cylinder.

The differentials.

The suspension.

The brakes.

Engineering rather than entertainment.

Thank you, Toyota.

Safety

Because this remains a modern Toyota, there's also a comprehensive suite of active-safety equipment.

Autonomous emergency braking.

Adaptive cruise control.

Lane assistance.

Blind-spot monitoring.

The usual collection.

And that's good.

Because performance doesn't need to mean sacrificing everyday safety.

The best hot hatches have always been cars you can use every day.

The GR Corolla continues that tradition.

Ownership

There's another benefit to the badge on the front.

It's a Toyota.

Now, nobody should assume that a highly stressed turbocharged performance engine will have identical ownership characteristics to a naturally aspirated Corolla your grandmother bought in 2007.

Different machine.

Different requirements.

But Toyota's dealer network is enormous.

Parts support is widespread.

And the broader GR family has become an increasingly important part of the company's identity.

That's perhaps the most encouraging thing.

This doesn't feel like a one-off marketing exercise.

Toyota genuinely seems interested in building interesting cars again.

The Competition

The GR Corolla exists in increasingly rare company.

There's the Honda Civic Type R.

The Volkswagen Golf R.

And depending on exactly what you're looking for, various performance offerings from Europe.

Each approaches the problem differently.

The Civic Type R is front-wheel drive and extraordinarily focused.

The Golf R is perhaps the more mature, polished all-weather weapon.

The GR Corolla?

It feels like the rally car of the group.

Compact.

Muscular.

Mechanical.

Slightly unhinged.

And available with three pedals.

That's its personality.

Toyota Got Weird

And I think we need to acknowledge something.

Toyota used to have a reputation for building extremely good cars that weren't always particularly interesting.

Reliable?

Absolutely.

Well engineered?

Yes.

Exciting?

Hmm.

Then Akio Toyoda happened.

A company led by somebody who genuinely loves cars began building things like the GR Yaris.

GR86.

GR Supra.

And now this.

A Corolla with swollen guards, AWD and a turbocharged three-cylinder producing more than 200kW.

This is objectively ridiculous.

And that's precisely why it matters.

Cars don't always need to make perfect rational sense.

Sometimes they should exist simply because somebody wanted to build something fun.

Thank you, Toyota.

Seriously.

Verdict

The GR Corolla is unnecessary.

Completely.

Nobody needs this.

The regular Corolla is cheaper.

More comfortable.

More efficient.

More sensible.

And for virtually every normal activity, it will perform exactly the same job.

Buy that.

Unless...

You still enjoy driving.

Unless you occasionally look at a winding road and take it simply because it's there.

Unless changing your own gears still matters.

Unless an unusual engine note makes you smile.

Unless the idea of engineers taking a completely ordinary hatchback and turning it into something slightly deranged appeals to you.

Then the GR Corolla suddenly makes perfect sense.

It's fast.

But that's not why it's good.

It grips.

But that's not why it's good either.

It's good because it involves you.

The engine has character.

The gearbox asks you to participate.

The AWD system gives you confidence.

The chassis encourages you to keep going.

And when the road ends, you've still got a Corolla.

Five doors.

A boot.

Rear seats.

Toyota reliability.

Normal-car stuff.

That's what makes the best hot hatches special.

They're ridiculous without being useless.

And in an automotive world increasingly dominated by enormous SUVs, touchscreens, silent electric motors and cars doing more and more of the driving themselves, something like the GR Corolla feels increasingly precious.

A turbocharged three-cylinder.

A manual gearbox.

Proper mechanical AWD.

Three real exhaust pipes.

And a driver still required to actually drive.

Thank you, Toyota.

Please keep being weird.

Review: GWM Haval H6 GT PhEV

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Nobody asked for a family SUV with 762Nm.

Let's establish that immediately.

Nobody was standing in a GWM showroom looking at the Haval H6 and thinking:

"Lovely interior. Plenty of space. Good warranty. But unfortunately, I simply cannot purchase it unless somebody gives this thing more torque than an old V8."

And yet...

Here we are.

The GWM Haval H6 GT PHEV combines a turbocharged petrol engine, a sizeable battery and multiple electric motors to produce the sort of numbers that sound faintly ridiculous when attached to a family SUV.

Around 321kW.

762Nm.

All-wheel drive.

And enough electric range to potentially complete most people's daily commute without using petrol.

That's an unusual combination.

Because traditionally, performance and efficiency sat at opposite ends of the automotive spectrum.

You could have one.

Or the other.

The H6 GT PHEV looks at that arrangement and asks:

Why not both?

Good question.

Price and Key Specifications

The H6 GT PHEV sits at the top of the H6 family and brings GWM's plug-in hybrid technology to the coupe-styled GT body.

Underneath is a 1.5-litre turbocharged petrol engine working alongside a sophisticated electric drivetrain.

Combined system outputs are approximately 321kW and 762Nm.

Again:

Seven hundred and sixty-two Newton metres.

In a Haval.

I feel like that deserves repeating.

Energy comes from a sizeable 35.4kWh battery, giving the H6 GT PHEV more than 100km of claimed electric-only driving under the relevant test cycle.

And that's important.

Because this isn't one of those early plug-in hybrids that proudly announced 35 kilometres of EV range before starting the petrol engine halfway through your morning commute.

There's enough battery here to fundamentally change how you use the vehicle.

If your normal daily travel falls within that electric range and you charge at home, there's a realistic possibility of doing most weekday driving without regularly using petrol.

Then, when you need to travel further?

There's an engine.

Simple.

Design

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The H6 GT has always been the extrovert of the H6 family.

There's a lower, more aggressively styled roofline.

Large wheels.

Prominent spoilers.

Black exterior detailing.

And enough aerodynamic-looking appendages to suggest somebody within GWM's design department was having a particularly enthusiastic afternoon.

Subtle?

Not really.

But that's the point.

If you want sensible, buy the regular H6.

The GT is supposed to have some attitude.

From the front, there's a large grille and narrow lighting treatment, while the coupe-like roofline gives the side profile a noticeably sportier appearance.

At the rear, there's a roof spoiler.

And another spoiler.

Because apparently one wasn't enough.

Is the second one doing anything?

I have no idea.

But it looks committed.

And sometimes commitment deserves recognition.

The PHEV doesn't dramatically advertise what's happening underneath either.

There's a charging port and some relevant badging, obviously, but GWM hasn't painted half the body electric blue or written PLUG-IN HYBRID down the doors.

Thank you, GWM.

We can read the badge.

Interior and Practicality

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Inside, the H6 GT continues GWM's recent habit of making you wonder where the money went in considerably more expensive vehicles.

There's a large central infotainment display.

Digital instrumentation.

Leather-appointed upholstery.

A panoramic roof.

Wireless phone charging.

Heated and ventilated front seats.

And enough technology to keep you occupied while waiting for somebody to finish shopping.

Material quality is generally impressive.

There are soft-touch surfaces where you expect them, the seats look and feel suitably premium, and the overall design has moved well beyond the “cheap car with lots of equipment” stereotype once associated with Chinese vehicles.

It feels modern.

Genuinely modern.

There are some ergonomic quirks.

GWM still likes putting more vehicle functions into the touchscreen than I'd prefer.

And regular readers already know how we feel about that.

If I need to access a menu to change something that used to have a perfectly functional button, somebody has made my life slightly worse in the name of minimalism.

Stop it.

Screens are excellent.

Buttons are also excellent.

We can have both.

But generally, the H6 GT cabin is a pleasant place to spend time.

Rear Seats and Boot

Despite that sloping roofline, rear-seat accommodation remains surprisingly good.

There's plenty of legroom for adults, helped by the H6's generous wheelbase, and the cabin is wide enough that three passengers can fit across the rear bench when required.

Headroom inevitably takes a small hit compared with the regular H6.

That's the coupe-SUV tax.

You wanted the swoopy roof.

Physics wants payment.

Boot capacity also needs to accommodate the packaging requirements of the plug-in hybrid drivetrain, but there's still enough room for normal family duties.

Shopping.

Suitcases.

School bags.

A pram.

The assortment of completely unnecessary objects children insist must accompany every road trip.

It works.

And that's more important than chasing the final few litres of cargo capacity.

Driving

Right.

762Nm.

Let's talk about it.

Press the accelerator gently and the H6 GT PHEV can pull away under electric power.

Quietly.

Smoothly.

Very sensibly.

Press it harder...

And sensible leaves the building.

The response is immediate.

Electric motors don't wait for revs.

They don't wait for boost.

They don't need a gearbox to decide which ratio would best suit your sudden enthusiasm.

They simply produce torque.

And the H6 GT has rather a lot of it.

Acceleration is seriously strong.

The kind of strong that initially feels slightly absurd in something designed to carry children and groceries.

Put your foot down and the Haval gathers speed with genuine authority.

There's a moment where your brain has to reconcile the acceleration you're experiencing with the badge on the steering wheel.

Not because there's anything inherently wrong with the badge.

Simply because Havals didn't traditionally do this.

They do now.

Does It Need 762Nm?

No.

Next section.

...

Fine.

Let's discuss it properly.

No family SUV needs 762Nm.

But there's an important distinction between needing performance and enjoying having it available.

You don't need to use all of it.

Most of the time, you won't.

Instead, that enormous reserve of torque makes everyday driving effortless.

Motorway merge?

Easy.

Overtaking?

Done.

Full car?

Barely notices.

Steep hill?

What hill?

That's where performance becomes genuinely useful.

Not at a drag strip.

In the ability to ask a heavily loaded family SUV for acceleration and receive it immediately.

And if you occasionally happen to use all 762Nm because there's nobody in front of you at the motorway on-ramp?

Well.

We're not here to judge.

The PHEV Bit

This is actually the most interesting part of the car.

Not the performance.

Because for all the headline numbers, the H6 GT PHEV potentially spends much of its life behaving like an EV.

If you've got home charging, the routine is simple.

Arrive home.

Plug it in.

Go inside.

Wake up with useful electric range.

If your daily commute is 30 or 40 kilometres each way, there's a realistic chance the petrol engine barely needs to participate during the week.

That's compelling.

Especially in stop-start urban traffic, where electric motors are at their best.

Then comes the weekend.

Maybe you're travelling 400 kilometres.

No problem.

Once the battery reaches its lower charge threshold, the petrol engine becomes part of the equation.

Keep driving.

No waiting for a charger.

No route planning around infrastructure.

No explaining to the children why you've been sitting behind a service station for forty minutes.

This is where plug-in hybrids can make enormous sense in Australia.

EV during the week.

Petrol when you need it.

Please Charge It

However.

We need to have the conversation again.

If you buy a plug-in hybrid...

Plug it in.

Please.

The entire point of carrying a large battery is that you use the electricity stored inside it.

If you never charge the vehicle, you're carrying hundreds of kilograms of expensive battery around while asking the petrol engine to compensate.

We've already compared this to buying a dishwasher and washing the dishes by hand.

I'm standing by that.

A PHEV works brilliantly when it suits your lifestyle.

Home charging.

Predictable daily distances.

Occasional longer journeys.

Perfect.

If you live in an apartment with no charging and drive enormous distances every day?

Maybe buy something else.

Different tools.

Different jobs.

Ride and Handling

Despite the GT badge and enormous performance figures, this is still fundamentally a family SUV.

And thankfully, GWM hasn't completely forgotten that.

The suspension is firm enough to provide reasonable body control but generally remains comfortable during normal driving.

Larger wheels inevitably mean sharp road imperfections occasionally make themselves known.

Physics.

Again.

But overall, the balance works.

The battery also places substantial mass low in the chassis, helping keep the centre of gravity down.

Through faster corners, the H6 GT feels planted.

Not delicate.

Not particularly lightweight.

Planted.

There's a difference.

The steering doesn't provide enormous amounts of feedback, but it's accurate enough and pleasantly light around town.

Would I take one on a mountain road instead of a proper performance car?

Obviously not.

But that's not really the point.

The fact that it can comfortably handle a winding road while carrying this much power is enough.

All-Wheel Drive

The electric drivetrain also allows GWM to distribute power across both axles.

That matters when you've got 762Nm.

Trying to send all of that through two front tyres would be...

Entertaining.

Briefly.

Instead, all-wheel drive gives the H6 GT impressive traction when accelerating hard, particularly in poor weather.

Put your foot down on a damp road and the vehicle simply gets on with deploying the available power rather than turning the steering wheel into a suggestion.

That's exactly what you want.

The system works quietly in the background.

No drama.

No theatrics.

Just traction.

Thank you, GWM.

Technology

There's a lot of it.

The central touchscreen handles infotainment and numerous vehicle settings, while the digital instrument display provides the usual driving information.

There's smartphone connectivity, wireless charging, surround-view cameras and a broad suite of driver-assistance technology.

The camera system deserves particular praise.

Visibility from coupe-style SUVs isn't always brilliant, particularly towards the rear.

A good surround-view system solves much of that problem.

That's useful technology.

The driver-assistance systems?

Mixed.

As we've found with other GWM products, some can be overly enthusiastic.

Lane warnings.

Driver monitoring.

Various alerts.

Occasionally the H6 GT behaves like an anxious parent sitting beside a learner driver.

Yes.

I know there's a line there.

Yes.

I saw that car.

No.

I'm not asleep.

Please relax.

GWM has improved these systems considerably over time, but there's still room for calibration refinement.

Safety

The H6 family offers the extensive collection of active-safety equipment expected in a modern family SUV.

Autonomous emergency braking.

Adaptive cruise control.

Blind-spot monitoring.

Lane-keeping assistance.

Rear cross-traffic alert.

Surround-view cameras.

And multiple airbags.

It's an important reminder that despite the performance figures and GT styling, this is fundamentally designed to carry families.

And on that front, there's plenty of technology watching your back.

Sometimes perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

But I'd rather complain about an overprotective system than explain why an important safety feature wasn't fitted.

Ownership

GWM's Australian ownership proposition remains one of its strongest weapons.

There's a seven-year, unlimited-kilometre warranty, backed by roadside assistance and capped-price servicing provisions.

The high-voltage battery receives its own dedicated warranty coverage.

And GWM's dealer network continues to expand as the brand's Australian footprint grows.

PHEV ownership does bring additional complexity.

You've got a petrol engine.

Battery.

Electric motors.

Power electronics.

Cooling systems.

And plenty of software managing the relationship between them.

That's considerably more complicated than a conventional petrol H6.

Whether that complexity creates meaningful long-term ownership differences remains something time will establish.

But in return, you're potentially getting EV-like daily running with petrol-powered long-distance flexibility.

That's the trade.

The Competition

The H6 GT PHEV enters a rapidly expanding part of the Australian market.

Plug-in hybrid SUVs are suddenly everywhere.

There's competition from BYD, Mitsubishi, Chery, and an increasing number of established and emerging manufacturers.

Then there are conventional hybrids.

Traditional petrol SUVs.

And full EVs.

Which means the H6 GT can't simply rely on being electrified.

The technology needs to provide an actual benefit.

And here, it does.

Strong electric range.

Enormous performance.

All-wheel drive.

Long-distance petrol flexibility.

A huge equipment list.

And GWM's aggressive value proposition.

That's a compelling collection of attributes.

The Bigger Picture

Something interesting is happening with GWM.

Within essentially the same showroom, you can now find very different answers to the same question.

Want a traditional diesel 4WD?

TANK 300 Diesel.

Want a plug-in hybrid ute?

Cannon Alpha PHEV.

Want a high-performance plug-in hybrid family SUV?

H6 GT PHEV.

Rather than betting everything on one powertrain, GWM seems perfectly happy to let buyers decide what works for them.

I like that.

There's far too much ideological nonsense surrounding automotive powertrains.

Diesel isn't universally good.

Electric isn't universally good.

Hybrid isn't universally good.

The right answer depends on what you're doing with the vehicle.

Build different tools.

Let people choose.

Thank you, GWM.

Verdict

The H6 GT PHEV is a strange combination of sensible and completely unnecessary.

And I mean that as a compliment.

The plug-in hybrid system?

Sensible.

More than 100 kilometres of electric range has the potential to dramatically reduce everyday fuel use.

Petrol backup for longer journeys?

Sensible.

All-wheel drive?

Sensible.

A spacious family-friendly cabin?

Very sensible.

762Nm?

Completely unnecessary.

Wonderful.

Because underneath the numbers is a vehicle that demonstrates why plug-in hybrids are becoming increasingly interesting.

You don't need to choose between electric commuting and long-distance flexibility.

You can have both.

The H6 GT PHEV can quietly take the kids to school without using petrol in the morning, travel hundreds of kilometres when required, carry the family comfortably and then produce an entirely inappropriate amount of acceleration when you put your foot down.

Is it perfect?

No.

Some touchscreen functions would be better served by physical controls.

The driver-assistance systems could calm down.

And long-term PHEV complexity remains something buyers should consider.

But the fundamental idea?

It works.

The H6 GT was already the slightly ridiculous member of the H6 family.

Giving it a plug and 762Nm has somehow made it both more sensible and more ridiculous at exactly the same time.

And strangely...

That's precisely why I like it.

Nobody asked for 762Nm.

But thank you anyway, GWM.

Review: GWM Cannon Alpha PHEV

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Well, this escalated quickly.

We just finished talking about how GWM listened to Australian buyers and put a diesel engine into the TANK 300.

Simple.

Traditional.

Exactly what you'd expect from a proper four-wheel drive.

Then you walk across the showroom and find this.

The GWM Cannon Alpha Ultra PHEV.

A plug-in hybrid dual-cab ute producing around 300kW and 750Nm.

Seven hundred and fifty.

In a GWM ute.

Remember when dual-cabs had approximately enough power to tow themselves?

Things have changed.

But the Cannon Alpha PHEV is interesting for reasons that go considerably deeper than the numbers.

Because electrification has created something of an identity crisis for the Australian ute.

Battery-electric models offer enormous torque but can suffer dramatically reduced range when towing.

Traditional diesels remain excellent at long-distance work but increasingly face emissions and refinement challenges.

So GWM has attempted something in the middle.

A petrol engine.

A sizeable battery.

A powerful electric motor.

Proper four-wheel drive.

And enough electric range to potentially complete the weekday commute without starting the engine at all.

Then, when Friday arrives?

Fill it with petrol, load the tray and disappear for the weekend.

On paper, that's a remarkably clever idea.

The question is whether it actually works.

Price and Key Specifications

The Cannon Alpha sits above the regular Cannon in GWM's Australian ute hierarchy, and the Ultra PHEV represents one of the most technically ambitious versions.

Under the bonnet is a 2.0-litre turbocharged petrol engine, working with GWM's plug-in hybrid system and four-wheel-drive hardware.

Combined output is approximately 300kW and 750Nm.

Those are not normal ute numbers.

That's more torque than plenty of V8s.

And unlike an old-school V8, a substantial portion of that torque is available almost immediately from the electric motor.

Energy is stored in a battery of roughly 37kWh, large enough to provide a meaningful electric-only driving range rather than the token few kilometres offered by traditional hybrids.

GWM claims more than 100km of electric driving under the relevant test cycle.

Think about that for a moment.

For many Australians, that's enough to complete an entire day of commuting.

Potentially two.

Without using petrol.

Yet when the battery becomes depleted, there's still an internal-combustion engine sitting up front.

No charging station?

Keep driving.

Long-distance road trip?

Keep driving.

Heading somewhere remote?

You already know how petrol stations work.

That's the fundamental appeal of a PHEV.

Design

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The Cannon Alpha is a big unit.

Even by modern dual-cab standards.

There's an enormous grille.

A high bonnet.

Broad wheel arches.

And enough chrome in Ultra specification to ensure neighbouring satellites can locate you.

Subtle?

No.

But neither is the vehicle.

The Alpha looks more substantial than the regular Cannon because it is more substantial.

There's a broad, almost American-truck quality to the proportions, and it has considerably more road presence than its price might suggest.

Whether you love the enormous grille will be personal preference.

Personally?

I've seen worse.

Much worse.

At least it belongs on something this size.

The PHEV doesn't scream about its electrification either.

There are badges and the additional charging port, obviously, but GWM hasn't covered it in blue highlights or attached enormous ELECTRIFIED graphics to the doors.

Thank you, GWM.

We can work it out.

Interior and Practicality

Climb aboard and the Cannon Alpha continues doing something GWM has become remarkably good at.

Making you question the price.

This does not feel like the interior of a traditional work ute.

There's leather upholstery.

Large digital displays.

A substantial centre console.

Plenty of soft-touch materials.

And in Ultra specification, enough comfort equipment to make some luxury SUVs look rather stingy.

The front seats are electrically adjustable.

They're heated.

They're ventilated.

There's a large central infotainment display, digital instrumentation, wireless phone charging and the usual smartphone connectivity.

And there's space.

Lots of it.

The Alpha is wider and longer than many traditional dual-cabs, and rear-seat passengers benefit significantly.

Adults can actually sit behind adults.

Their knees don't immediately become part of the front seat.

There's enough width for three passengers.

And the rear bench feels considerably less like punishment than the back seats of dual-cab utes traditionally did.

That's important.

Because these vehicles aren't simply work tools anymore.

For plenty of Australian families, the ute is the family car.

School run Monday morning.

Worksite Tuesday.

Bunnings Saturday.

Camping Sunday.

The Alpha understands that.

Buttons!

And now, an important public service announcement.

GWM has retained physical controls for a number of important vehicle functions.

There are actual buttons.

In a modern plug-in hybrid.

Imagine that.

You don't need to swipe across an enormous touchscreen while bouncing down a dirt road just to change a fundamental vehicle setting.

Thank you, GWM.

We've said it before and apparently we're going to keep saying it until manufacturers collectively stop trying to turn every dashboard into an iPad attached to a shelf.

Screens are excellent for maps.

They're excellent for cameras.

They're excellent for displaying information.

They do not need to control absolutely everything.

The Cannon Alpha understands this better than some considerably more expensive vehicles.

Driving

Here's where things become interesting.

Because the Cannon Alpha PHEV doesn't drive like you'd expect a large dual-cab ute to drive.

Pull away gently and it can move using electric power alone.

Silently.

In a ute.

It's initially quite strange.

No diesel clatter.

No vibration through the steering wheel.

No engine note bouncing off the walls of an underground car park.

You select Drive.

Press the accelerator.

And this enormous dual-cab simply glides away.

For urban driving, it's fantastic.

Then you ask for more.

And 750Nm enters the conversation.

Acceleration is seriously strong.

Not “quick for a ute.”

Quick.

The electric motor delivers immediate response while the turbocharged petrol engine joins proceedings as required.

There's no waiting for boost to build.

No gearbox desperately hunting for the correct ratio before an overtake.

You put your foot down.

The Alpha goes.

And there's something deeply amusing about watching a vehicle this large accelerate with that much enthusiasm.

Is 750Nm necessary?

No.

Obviously not.

Do I want GWM to remove some?

Also no.

Carry on.

The PHEV Bit

But outright performance isn't why this drivetrain is clever.

The real appeal becomes obvious when you think about how most dual-cab utes actually spend their lives.

A huge number travel relatively short distances during the week.

Home.

School.

Work.

Shops.

Home again.

If you can charge overnight and your normal daily driving falls within the Alpha's electric range, there's a realistic possibility of completing most weekday travel without regularly starting the petrol engine.

That's significant.

Because traditional dual-cab diesels aren't particularly efficient in short-distance urban driving.

Then Friday arrives.

You've got a camping trip planned several hundred kilometres away.

No problem.

The petrol engine is there.

You aren't staring at a charging map wondering whether the only DC charger in a regional town is working.

You simply keep driving.

This is where PHEVs make an enormous amount of sense for Australia.

Electric where electricity works best.

Combustion where combustion remains convenient.

It's not ideologically pure.

It's practical.

I prefer practical.

But You Have to Charge It

There is, however, an enormous asterisk attached to every plug-in hybrid.

You need to plug it in.

Sounds obvious.

Apparently it isn't.

If you buy a PHEV, never charge it and simply drive around carrying hundreds of kilograms of battery everywhere, you've missed the point rather spectacularly.

It's like buying a dishwasher and washing everything by hand while storing the dirty plates inside it.

Technically possible.

But why?

The Cannon Alpha PHEV makes the most sense for someone with home charging.

Come home.

Plug it in.

Go inside.

Wake up with useful electric range.

Repeat.

Do that consistently and the powertrain begins making an enormous amount of sense.

Don't?

I'd probably buy the diesel.

Off Road

Now for the important bit.

Because none of this matters if electrification has turned the Cannon Alpha into a large road-going lifestyle accessory.

Fortunately, it hasn't.

The Alpha retains proper four-wheel-drive capability and low-range functionality, with multiple terrain modes and substantial ground clearance.

And electric assistance actually has some interesting advantages off road.

Electric motors can deliver torque extremely precisely.

There's no need to build engine revs.

No waiting for turbo boost.

You can request a small amount of torque and receive exactly that.

When you're crawling over difficult terrain, that's useful.

Very useful.

Then there's the battery.

Some people instinctively worry about putting high-voltage hardware underneath an off-road vehicle.

Fair question.

But these systems are engineered around water resistance, impact protection and the sort of environmental conditions expected of the vehicle.

Will we know exactly how they cope after fifteen years of Australian corrugations?

No.

Time has to answer that.

But there's nothing inherently incompatible about electrification and off-road driving.

In some ways, the technology actually suits it beautifully.

Towing

And now we arrive at perhaps the most interesting PHEV-ute question.

Towing.

Electric motors are brilliant for towing because they produce enormous torque immediately.

Batteries are less brilliant because heavy towing dramatically increases energy consumption.

The Cannon Alpha attempts to solve that equation by having both battery-electric assistance and a petrol engine.

That means you can use the electric motors' torque without becoming entirely dependent on battery range.

Clever.

The Alpha is rated to tow serious loads, putting it firmly into the territory expected of modern Australian dual-cabs.

But, as always, don't simply look at the maximum braked towing number.

Payload.

Tow-ball mass.

GVM.

GCM.

Passengers.

Accessories.

Everything counts.

A 3.5-tonne sticker doesn't magically override mathematics.

And that's true whether the badge says GWM, Ford, Toyota or anything else.

Ride and Handling

The Cannon Alpha is fundamentally a large ute.

Physics remains involved.

There's substantial weight.

There's significant height.

And depending on what you're doing with the tray, the rear suspension still has a difficult job balancing load-carrying ability with passenger comfort.

But the Alpha feels noticeably more sophisticated than old-school dual-cabs.

Around town, the electric drivetrain improves refinement enormously.

The steering is light.

Visibility is good.

And cameras help disguise the fact you're manoeuvring something roughly the dimensions of a studio apartment.

On the highway, it settles nicely.

There's some wind noise.

Obviously.

Look at it.

Aerodynamics can only do so much when the vehicle approaching the air has the frontal area of a garage door.

But overall refinement is impressive.

And the ability to cruise silently under electric power changes the character completely.

Technology

The Alpha is loaded with it.

Large displays.

Surround-view cameras.

Adaptive cruise control.

Lane assistance.

Blind-spot monitoring.

Connected infotainment.

Multiple powertrain modes.

Multiple off-road modes.

There's a lot happening.

Sometimes perhaps too much.

As we've found with other GWM products, some of the driver-assistance systems can be rather enthusiastic.

The vehicle occasionally behaves like a nervous passenger who's just received their learner licence.

Beep.

Warning.

Another beep.

Yes, GWM.

I saw the lane marking.

We're okay.

Relax.

Software calibration continues to be one of the areas where some Chinese manufacturers could learn from the restraint they've increasingly demonstrated in their physical vehicle design.

Not everything requires an alert.

Safety

Unsurprisingly, there's an extensive collection of active-safety technology.

Autonomous emergency braking.

Adaptive cruise control.

Lane-keeping assistance.

Blind-spot monitoring.

Rear cross-traffic alert.

Surround-view cameras.

And multiple airbags.

Given that plenty of Cannon Alphas will spend their lives carrying families rather than concrete mixers, that's important.

Modern utes are no longer exempt from passenger-car safety expectations simply because they have a tray.

Nor should they be.

Ownership

GWM backs its Australian vehicles with a seven-year, unlimited-kilometre warranty, alongside roadside assistance and capped-price servicing provisions.

The high-voltage battery also receives dedicated warranty coverage.

But PHEV ownership introduces another consideration.

Complexity.

You've got a petrol engine.

A high-voltage battery.

Electric motors.

Power electronics.

And a sophisticated transmission tying everything together.

That's more complicated than a traditional diesel ute.

There's no getting around that.

The counterargument is that much of the urban driving can potentially occur without regularly running the combustion engine, while regenerative braking reduces reliance on conventional brakes.

Which approach proves cheaper over fifteen years?

Ask me in fifteen years.

Anyone claiming certainty today is guessing.

The Competition

This is where things are moving incredibly quickly.

The BYD Shark 6 immediately comes to mind because it has demonstrated that Australians are very interested in plug-in hybrid utes.

Then there are traditional diesel heavyweights like the Ford Ranger, Toyota HiLux, Isuzu D-MAX and Mitsubishi Triton.

And that's what makes the Cannon Alpha fascinating.

It doesn't neatly fit into either camp.

Against a diesel ute, it's smoother, quieter and potentially dramatically cheaper to run during short urban journeys if regularly charged.

Against a fully electric vehicle, it removes most of the long-distance range anxiety.

Against another PHEV?

Then we start comparing electric range, towing, off-road hardware, payload, price and equipment.

That's where this segment is going to become extremely interesting.

Fast.

The Bigger Question

Do Australian ute buyers actually want electrification?

Judging by how quickly the market is changing, apparently plenty do.

But I don't think most buyers care whether something is electrified simply because electrification is fashionable.

They care whether it makes the vehicle better.

Does it cost less to run?

Does it tow well?

Does it have enough range?

Can I take it camping?

Can I drive interstate?

Can I charge it at home?

Will it survive what I use a ute for?

Those are the questions that matter.

And that's why the Cannon Alpha PHEV is interesting.

It isn't asking Australian ute buyers to completely change the way they live.

It's trying to slot electrification into the life they already have.

That's a much smarter strategy.

Verdict

The GWM Cannon Alpha Ultra PHEV sounds ridiculous when you first read the specifications.

A plug-in hybrid Chinese dual-cab ute.

Around 300kW.

750Nm.

More than 100km of electric driving.

Proper four-wheel-drive capability.

Luxury-SUV levels of equipment.

There are a lot of ideas happening at once.

But spend some time thinking about how Australians actually use these vehicles and the concept starts making considerably more sense.

Drive to work on electricity.

Charge at home.

Use almost no petrol during the week.

Then load the tray on Friday.

Hook up something behind it.

And drive several hundred kilometres without needing to plan your life around charging infrastructure.

That's compelling.

The technology isn't perfect.

The vehicle is heavy.

Some driver-assistance systems need to calm down.

And long-term durability of increasingly complicated plug-in hybrid utes remains something only time can properly establish.

But GWM deserves credit for trying something different.

It hasn't electrified the ute simply to make an environmental statement.

It has used electrification to give it more torque, more refinement and potentially far lower everyday fuel consumption without removing the long-distance flexibility Australian buyers expect.

That's the important bit.

Maybe the future of the Australian ute isn't petrol or electricity.

Maybe, for a while at least, it's both.

And if you're going to give us both...

750Nm seems like a pretty good place to start.

Thank you, GWM.

Review: GWM Tank 300 Ultra Diesel

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Australia asked for a diesel.

GWM listened.

It's really that simple.

When the TANK 300 first arrived, it immediately got people talking.

Partly because it looked like somebody had put a Jeep Wrangler, Ford Bronco and Mercedes-Benz G-Class into a blender.

Partly because it offered an enormous amount of equipment for the money.

And partly because underneath all that styling was something increasingly unusual:

A genuinely capable, body-on-frame four-wheel drive.

But there was one fairly obvious omission for Australia.

A diesel engine.

Because Australian 4WD buyers love diesel.

We tow with them.

We tour with them.

We drive enormous distances with them.

And despite electrification transforming virtually every corner of the automotive industry, there's still something reassuring about filling a proper 4WD with diesel and pointing it towards somewhere several hundred kilometres from the nearest charging station.

GWM clearly agreed.

So now we have the TANK 300 Ultra Diesel.

A 2.4-litre turbo-diesel.

Nine-speed automatic.

Low-range four-wheel drive.

Front and rear differential locks.

And enough luxury equipment to make you double-check the price.

This could get interesting.

Price and Key Specifications

The 2026 GWM TANK 300 Ultra Diesel sits towards the top of the Australian TANK 300 range, combining the new diesel drivetrain with the extensive equipment list of the Ultra specification.

And this is where GWM immediately gets your attention.

Because despite the equipment and mechanical hardware underneath, you're still looking at a vehicle priced in territory traditionally occupied by significantly less adventurous family SUVs.

Under the bonnet is GWM's 2.4-litre four-cylinder turbo-diesel, producing 135kW and 480Nm.

That torque figure is the important one.

Peak torque arrives low in the rev range, exactly where you want it in something designed to tow, climb and crawl its way through difficult terrain.

It's paired with a nine-speed automatic transmission and a proper part-time four-wheel-drive system with low range.

Then things get serious.

There's a locking rear differential.

There's a locking front differential.

There are multiple terrain modes.

There's crawl control.

And there's a tank-turn function designed to reduce the vehicle's turning radius off-road.

That's an awful lot of actual 4WD hardware.

Not rugged-looking plastic.

Not a mountain graphic on the infotainment screen.

Hardware.

Thank you, GWM.

Design

Let's address the obvious.

The TANK 300 looks familiar.

Very familiar.

There's some Jeep Wrangler in there.

Some Ford Bronco.

Perhaps a little Mercedes G-Class if you squint.

And probably half a dozen other rugged 4WDs depending on which angle you're standing at.

But here's the thing.

It works.

The squared-off proportions suit the vehicle beautifully.

There's an upright windscreen, prominent wheel arches, a high bonnet and a rear-mounted spare wheel.

The circular headlights are bisected by horizontal daytime-running lights, giving the TANK a distinctive enough face that you're unlikely to confuse it for anything else once you've seen a few of them.

And Australians certainly have.

These things are everywhere now.

The Ultra adds enough exterior detailing to make it feel suitably premium without losing the underlying toughness.

It's unapologetically boxy.

And that's exactly how a vehicle called TANK should look.

Imagine if they'd called it TANK and given it the silhouette of a Nissan Qashqai.

We'd have questions.

Interior and Practicality

This is where the TANK 300 starts playing tricks with your expectations.

Because climb inside and you're met with an interior that looks considerably more expensive than you expect.

There are twin 12.3-inch displays across the dashboard.

Large circular air vents.

Substantial grab handles.

Metallic detailing.

Quilted leather upholstery.

Ambient lighting.

And enough design theatre to make the cabin feel genuinely special.

There's undoubtedly some G-Class inspiration in here.

Let's not pretend otherwise.

But at least GWM copied the good bits.

The Ultra's front seats are electrically adjustable, heated and ventilated, while the driver gets a heated steering wheel.

There's wireless phone charging, smartphone connectivity and an Infinity premium audio system.

And then you begin noticing the smaller details.

The switchgear feels substantial.

The door handles have weight to them.

The controls generally look and feel as though somebody cared about how they operated rather than simply ordering them from the cheapest supplier.

There are still physical controls for important vehicle functions, too.

Buttons.

Actual buttons.

In a proper off-road vehicle.

Imagine trying to activate a differential lock through three touchscreen menus while bouncing down a rocky track.

No.

Thank you again, GWM.

The rear seats provide decent room for adults, helped by the TANK's boxy roofline.

Cargo space isn't class-leading, and the side-hinged rear door can be annoying in tight parking spaces.

But the trade-off is a full-size spare mounted where you can actually get to it.

Again:

This is a 4WD.

Not everything needs to be optimised for Westfield.

Driving

Start the diesel and there's no mistaking what's happening under the bonnet.

It's a diesel.

You hear it.

There's some vibration.

And when cold, it's certainly not going to fool anyone into thinking GWM secretly installed a petrol six-cylinder.

But that's okay.

Because once underway, the 2.4-litre settles into a surprisingly relaxed rhythm.

The headline figure is 480Nm.

And you feel it.

There's strong shove from low engine speeds, which immediately suits the character of the TANK far better than chasing high-rev horsepower ever would.

The nine-speed automatic generally keeps the engine operating within that broad torque band, although nine ratios can occasionally mean the gearbox spends a little too much time deciding exactly which one it wants.

But when you're cruising?

It settles nicely.

Highway driving is surprisingly comfortable for something with body-on-frame construction and genuine off-road hardware underneath.

There's some wind noise from the upright body.

Obviously.

It's shaped like a garden shed.

Physics remains undefeated.

But the cabin is generally well isolated, and the ride has enough compliance to make long-distance touring realistic.

Steering is relatively light around town, which makes the TANK considerably easier to manoeuvre than its appearance suggests.

You never forget you're driving something tall and substantial.

But neither does it feel like an agricultural relic from twenty years ago.

That's important.

Because increasingly, Australian buyers expect their proper 4WD to handle the school run Monday to Friday before heading bush on Saturday.

The TANK understands that.

Off Road

And now we get to the reason this thing exists.

The TANK 300 isn't merely dressed like a 4WD.

It is one.

Body-on-frame construction.

Low-range gearing.

Front differential lock.

Rear differential lock.

Multiple terrain modes.

Crawl control.

Serious ground clearance.

Proper approach and departure angles.

This is the stuff that matters.

And once the terrain becomes difficult, the diesel begins making even more sense.

That 480Nm is available low in the rev range, allowing the TANK to crawl through obstacles without requiring huge throttle inputs.

Select low range.

Engage the appropriate differential lock.

Let the drivetrain work.

That's how it should be.

There's also GWM's Tank Turn function.

The system can lock an inside rear wheel to tighten the turning circle on loose surfaces.

Is it something you'll use every day?

Absolutely not.

Is it extremely entertaining to demonstrate to your friends?

Obviously.

More importantly, it can genuinely help when manoeuvring around tight obstacles on a trail.

Which means it passes our technology test.

It's clever and useful.

Approved.

The Diesel Question

So why diesel?

Because Australia.

That's basically it.

The petrol and hybrid versions of the TANK 300 have their own advantages, but the diesel makes enormous sense for the sort of buyer who sees this vehicle as a touring platform.

Diesel remains widely available throughout regional Australia.

It offers strong low-end torque.

Fuel consumption over long distances can be more predictable than some petrol alternatives.

And if you're heading properly remote, there's a familiarity to the drivetrain that many buyers will appreciate.

There's also something reassuring about not having to explain your charging strategy before heading into the outback.

Fill tank.

Drive.

When empty:

Fill tank again.

Revolutionary stuff.

The world is moving towards electrification.

That's inevitable.

But different vehicles have different jobs.

And right now, for long-distance Australian touring and serious off-road use, a torquey diesel still makes a compelling argument.

GWM recognised that.

Thank you, GWM.

Towing

The diesel also strengthens the TANK's appeal as a tow vehicle.

With 480Nm, there's enough low-down torque to handle trailers and smaller caravans without constantly asking the engine for everything it has.

That said, anyone buying primarily for towing needs to look beyond the headline braked towing figure.

Payload matters.

Tow-ball mass matters.

Gross vehicle mass matters.

Gross combination mass matters.

And once you add passengers, accessories, camping gear and a trailer, those numbers can disappear surprisingly quickly.

That's true of every 4WD.

Not just the TANK.

But for moderate towing duties, the diesel drivetrain feels like a natural fit.

Technology

There's plenty of it.

Perhaps too much in places.

GWM has packed the TANK 300 with an enormous collection of active safety systems, cameras, infotainment functions and driver assistance.

The surround-view camera system is particularly useful.

Not just for parking.

Off road, being able to see what's immediately around the vehicle can make wheel placement considerably easier.

That's technology helping you do something.

Excellent.

Some of the driver-monitoring and assistance systems can be a little enthusiastic, though.

GWM isn't alone here.

Modern vehicles increasingly seem convinced that every minor deviation from perfect behaviour requires an audible warning.

Look somewhere unexpected?

Beep.

Approach a lane marking?

Beep.

Consider having an independent thought?

Probably a beep.

Some calibration refinement wouldn't hurt.

Safety

The TANK 300 carries a five-star ANCAP safety rating and comes equipped with the broad suite of active safety technology expected from a modern vehicle.

Autonomous emergency braking, adaptive cruise control, lane-keeping assistance, blind-spot monitoring and rear cross-traffic technology are all part of the package.

There are also multiple airbags and extensive camera coverage.

Again, this is important.

Because despite the rugged styling and off-road hardware, most TANK 300s will spend most of their lives doing normal family-car things.

School.

Work.

Shopping.

Road trips.

The ability to climb a mountain doesn't make crash protection any less important.

Ownership

This is another area where GWM has worked hard to remove some of the traditional barriers associated with buying a newer brand.

The TANK 300 is backed by GWM Australia's seven-year, unlimited-kilometre warranty, alongside capped-price servicing and roadside assistance provisions.

And the dealer network has expanded considerably as GWM's Australian sales have grown.

That's important.

Particularly for buyers considering the TANK as a long-distance touring vehicle.

The bigger unknown remains long-term reputation.

Toyota and Isuzu have spent decades establishing trust with Australian 4WD buyers.

GWM hasn't had decades.

You can't manufacture history overnight.

But you can build a compelling product today.

And that's exactly what the TANK 300 is attempting to do.

The Competition

This is where things become very interesting.

The obvious comparison is the Ford Everest.

Then there's the Isuzu MU-X, Mitsubishi Pajero Sport and various versions of the Toyota Prado.

But none is a perfect comparison.

The Everest and MU-X offer seven seats.

The TANK doesn't.

The Prado carries decades of reputation and an enormous aftermarket, but costs considerably more in equivalent specifications.

The Jeep Wrangler offers arguably greater off-road heritage and removable-roof fun, but approaches the problem very differently.

Then there's the TANK's greatest weapon:

What you get for the money.

Leather.

Heated and ventilated seats.

Twin digital displays.

Premium audio.

Front and rear differential locks.

Low range.

Crawl control.

Surround-view cameras.

A diesel engine producing 480Nm.

Start ticking equivalent boxes elsewhere and the calculator becomes uncomfortable remarkably quickly.

That doesn't automatically make the TANK better.

Price isn't everything.

But value?

That's considerably harder to argue with.

The Elephant in the Room

Yes.

It's Chinese.

And for some buyers, that will end the conversation immediately.

That's their decision.

But dismissing the TANK 300 purely because of where it's manufactured is becoming increasingly difficult to reconcile with the actual vehicle sitting in front of you.

Chinese manufacturers aren't coming.

They're here.

The question is no longer whether they can build cars with impressive equipment lists.

Clearly they can.

The more relevant questions are durability, resale, dealer support and how these vehicles hold up after years of genuinely hard Australian use.

Those answers require time.

And Toyota has an enormous advantage because it already has decades of evidence.

GWM doesn't.

Yet.

That's worth acknowledging.

But so is the fact that the TANK 300 feels far removed from the cheap Chinese vehicles Australians first encountered fifteen years ago.

Judge the vehicle that's actually here.

Not the stereotype you remember.

Verdict

The TANK 300 Ultra Diesel makes a surprising amount of sense.

GWM could have simply continued selling petrol and hybrid versions and told Australian buyers that was the future.

Instead, it listened.

Australian buyers wanted diesel.

So GWM gave them diesel.

But importantly, it didn't stop there.

The TANK retains the hardware that makes it genuinely interesting.

Body-on-frame construction.

Low range.

Front and rear differential locks.

Crawl control.

Proper off-road ability.

Then it wraps all of that in an interior with heated and ventilated leather seats, twin displays and enough equipment to embarrass considerably more expensive vehicles.

Is it perfect?

No.

The diesel isn't particularly refined when cold.

The nine-speed automatic can occasionally overthink things.

Some driver-assistance systems need to calm down.

And GWM simply doesn't have the decades-long Australian durability record enjoyed by Toyota or Isuzu.

But look at what you're actually getting.

A comfortable daily driver.

A serious 4WD.

A long-distance tourer.

A capable diesel drivetrain.

And an equipment list that seems to have been created by someone who forgot the accounting department existed.

The TANK 300 was already an interesting proposition.

The diesel makes it considerably easier to understand.

GWM asked Australian 4WD buyers what they wanted.

They said diesel.

GWM listened.

Thank you, GWM.

Sometimes giving people what they ask for really is that simple.

Review: Nissan Ariya Evolve e-4ORCE

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Nissan, where have you been?

Seriously.

This is the company that launched the Leaf in 2010.

Back when most manufacturers were still treating electric vehicles as slightly strange science experiments, Nissan was already selling one to normal people.

It wasn't exotic.

It wasn't particularly fast.

And it certainly wasn't beautiful.

But it worked.

More importantly, Nissan actually built the thing in meaningful numbers.

So you'd think that when the electric SUV revolution arrived, Nissan would have been standing at the front of the queue.

Instead, Australians watched seemingly every other manufacturer on Earth launch an electric SUV while the Nissan Ariya remained something we'd occasionally see in overseas reviews.

Finally, it's here.

And Nissan hasn't exactly eased us into the experience.

Because sitting at the top of the Australian range is this: the Ariya Evolve e-4ORCE.

Two electric motors.

All-wheel drive.

290kW.

600Nm.

And 0-100km/h in 5.6 seconds.

Apparently Nissan would like us to forget about the delay.

Fair enough.

You've got our attention.

Price and Key Specifications

The 2026 Nissan Ariya Evolve e-4ORCE sits at the top of the Australian Ariya range, priced from $71,840 before on-road costs.

It uses Nissan's larger 87kWh battery paired with dual electric motors and the company's e-4ORCE all-wheel-drive system.

Combined output is 290kW and 600Nm, enough to send the Ariya from 0-100km/h in 5.6 seconds and onwards to a maximum speed of 200km/h.

That's properly quick.

Not EV-internet-forum “my family SUV does the quarter mile in nine seconds” ridiculous.

Just properly quick.

And I'm completely fine with that.

Claimed WLTP driving range is 487km, while maximum DC charging speed is 130kW.

The Evolve can also tow 1,500kg braked, double the capacity of the front-wheel-drive Ariya variants.

So this isn't simply the Ariya with every option box ticked.

There's considerably more going on underneath.

Design

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The Ariya is a handsome thing.

Perhaps more importantly, it doesn't look like Nissan simply took a Qashqai, blocked off the grille and called it electric.

There's a clean simplicity to the design.

At the front, Nissan's traditional V-motion grille has evolved into a smooth shield incorporating subtle Japanese-inspired detailing, while slim LED headlights give the Ariya a distinctly futuristic appearance without making it look like a prop from a science-fiction film.

The sides are similarly clean.

Large surfaces.

Relatively little visual clutter.

A gently sloping roofline.

And in Evolve specification, 20-inch alloy wheels give the Ariya a noticeably stronger stance than the lesser variants.

At the rear, a full-width lighting treatment and prominent ARIYA lettering provide some identity without resorting to unnecessary styling tricks.

The proportions work, too.

At 4,595mm long with a 2,775mm wheelbase, it's firmly in medium-SUV territory.

It looks modern.

Distinctive.

But not desperate for attention.

That's a difficult balance to strike with an EV.

Nissan has done it rather well.

Interior and Practicality

This might be my favourite part of the Ariya.

Because Nissan has actually done something interesting in here.

The dashboard is wonderfully minimalist, with twin 12.3-inch displays sitting across the driver's field of vision and a broad horizontal panel stretching across the cabin.

But look closer and you'll find something unusual.

The climate controls are integrated directly into the dashboard trim.

They're haptic controls.

Which means there aren't conventional physical buttons.

Now, regular readers will know where The Driver's Briefing generally stands on this subject.

We like buttons.

We like knobs.

We enjoy adjusting the temperature without taking our eyes off the road.

So Nissan was dangerously close to receiving a strongly worded paragraph.

But these controls remain permanently positioned where you expect them to be and provide physical feedback when pressed.

You don't need to open a climate app.

You don't need to swipe through three menus.

You don't need to ask a voice assistant to demist the windscreen.

So...

Thank you, Nissan.

We'll allow it.

Just this once.

The rest of the cabin is genuinely lovely.

And the Evolve gets the good stuff.

There's Nappa leather with Ultrasuede inserts, heated and ventilated front seats, heated rear seats, a head-up display, panoramic glass roof and Nissan's clever power-sliding centre console.

There's also a 10-speaker Bose audio system.

But the equipment isn't really what makes the interior work.

It's the atmosphere.

There's a completely flat floor, while the dashboard sits relatively far forward, creating an unusual amount of open space between the occupants.

And there's a distinctly Japanese influence to the whole thing.

Not Japanese in the sense of screens and technology.

Japanese in the sense of restraint.

The shapes are simple.

The lighting is subtle.

Nothing feels particularly desperate to impress you.

It just feels calm.

That's a quality more luxury manufacturers could learn from.

Practicality

The 2,775mm wheelbase and flat floor translate into excellent rear-seat accommodation.

There's plenty of legroom, and without a transmission tunnel running through the centre, the middle passenger isn't forced to sit with a foot in each postcode.

The Evolve does lose a little luggage capacity compared with the front-wheel-drive Ariya models because of its additional drivetrain hardware.

There's 408 litres behind the rear seats, expanding to 1,280 litres when they're folded.

That's not enormous for an SUV of this size.

But it's perfectly usable.

And importantly, the cabin itself feels considerably more spacious than those boot figures might suggest.

Driving

This is where the Evolve starts earning its place at the top of the range.

Because 290kW and 600Nm is plenty.

Put your foot down and the Ariya responds immediately.

No gearbox.

No waiting for boost.

No engine searching for the right part of its rev range.

Just torque.

And quite a lot of it.

The 5.6-second 0-100km/h time tells part of the story, but it's the effortless mid-range acceleration that's more relevant in everyday driving.

See a gap?

You're there.

Need to overtake?

Done.

Motorway merge?

What motorway merge?

But Nissan hasn't tuned the Evolve to feel like some enormous electric hot hatch.

And that's important.

The power is strong without being stupid.

Progressive rather than violent.

You can use it without warning your passengers to brace themselves first.

Thank you, Nissan.

Nobody needs their groceries experiencing launch control.

e-4ORCE

Then there's that slightly strange name.

e-4ORCE.

Capital letters and numbers within words normally make me suspicious.

But underneath the marketing department's handiwork is some genuinely clever engineering.

Nissan's dual-motor system doesn't simply provide more power and all-wheel-drive traction.

It constantly manages torque delivery and regenerative braking across both axles to improve stability and body control.

The goal isn't necessarily to make the Ariya feel aggressive.

It's to make it feel composed.

And it works.

There's a reassuring planted quality to the Evolve that the front-wheel-drive versions can't quite replicate.

Accelerate hard out of a corner and both axles simply get on with the job.

Wet road?

Again, it just gets on with it.

There's even a dedicated Snow mode, although its usefulness will depend considerably on which part of Australia you call home.

Darwin residents may safely ignore that button.

The steering itself is light enough around town but gains some welcome weight as speeds increase.

And despite the Ariya Evolve weighing more than 2.2 tonnes, the low-mounted battery and near-even weight distribution mean it never feels quite as cumbersome as the number suggests.

It's not pretending to be a sports car.

It's simply a very competent, very quick electric SUV.

That's enough.

Comfort

And this is perhaps where the Ariya makes its strongest argument.

It's quiet.

Really quiet.

Obviously, there's no engine up front.

But removing an engine doesn't automatically make a car refined.

Tyre roar suddenly becomes more noticeable.

Wind noise becomes obvious.

Suspension noises you would previously never hear begin announcing themselves.

Nissan has clearly understood that.

At highway speeds, the Ariya remains impressively subdued.

The seats are excellent.

The suspension deals with ordinary Australian road surfaces without unnecessary harshness, despite the Evolve's larger 20-inch wheels.

And the overall experience is one of calmness.

That word keeps coming up with this car.

Calm.

Which is interesting considering there's 600Nm waiting underneath your right foot.

e-Pedal

Nissan also deserves some recognition because it has been experimenting with one-pedal-style driving longer than many manufacturers.

The Ariya's e-Pedal Step system increases regenerative braking when you lift off the accelerator, reducing how frequently you need to move your foot across to the brake pedal.

Once you become accustomed to regenerative driving, it becomes remarkably intuitive.

Accelerate.

Lift slightly to slow.

Lift further to slow more.

Use the brake pedal when required.

It's one of those EV features that initially sounds like a gimmick and then becomes completely normal within about twenty minutes.

Go back to a conventional car afterwards and you'll occasionally lift off the accelerator expecting something to happen.

It doesn't.

And then you remember.

Range and Charging

This is where the Ariya's age begins to show slightly.

The 487km WLTP range is respectable.

For most owners, it's more than enough.

Home charging means the Ariya can simply be plugged in overnight and begin the following morning with whatever charge limit you've selected.

Longer journeys shouldn't present any enormous problems either.

But the 130kW maximum DC charging speed is no longer particularly impressive.

Nissan says the 87kWh Ariya variants require around 45 minutes to charge from 10 to 80 per cent under suitable conditions.

Forty-five minutes isn't disastrous.

Have lunch.

Grab a coffee.

Question why service-station sausage rolls now cost approximately the same as residential property.

You'll survive.

But we've just driven vehicles from Hyundai and Kia using 800-volt architectures capable of completing similar charging stops considerably faster.

And that's perhaps the clearest reminder that Australia received the Ariya later than we should have.

The car still feels modern.

The charging hardware doesn't feel quite as modern as the very best.

Technology

The twin 12.3-inch screens dominate the dashboard, but Nissan has resisted turning the Ariya into a rolling electronics demonstration.

There's wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, wireless phone charging, navigation and Nissan's suite of connected functions.

The Evolve also receives the 10.8-inch head-up display, which is exactly where useful information belongs:

In your line of sight.

There's also Nissan's Intelligent Around View Monitor.

And in tight car parks, you'll appreciate it.

Because while the Ariya isn't enormous, modern parking spaces appear to have been designed around the dimensions of a 1997 Suzuki Swift.

Nissan's ProPILOT driver-assistance system combines adaptive cruise functionality with lane assistance to reduce workload on longer journeys.

Again:

Technology working quietly in the background.

Helping.

That's how it should be.

Safety

The Ariya carries a five-star ANCAP safety rating from its 2022 assessment and includes the comprehensive active-safety equipment expected from a modern family EV.

There's autonomous emergency braking, lane assistance, blind-spot monitoring, rear cross-traffic technology and adaptive cruise functionality.

Seven airbags are fitted.

Nothing particularly surprising.

Which is exactly what you want from the safety section of a family SUV review.

Ownership

The electric drivetrain naturally eliminates many of the maintenance items associated with combustion-powered vehicles.

No oil changes.

No spark plugs.

No exhaust.

No conventional gearbox.

And regenerative braking can reduce wear on the physical brake components.

The Evolve's larger battery also makes it considerably easier to recommend as an only vehicle than the shorter-range Ariya variants.

Nearly 500km of claimed range won't completely eliminate charging considerations on an interstate trip.

But for everyday Australian life?

It's plenty.

And there's something reassuring about buying an EV from a manufacturer that was mass-producing them while some current electric-car companies were still PowerPoint presentations.

Nissan has been doing this for a while.

Even if Australia had to wait far too long for this particular one.

The Competition

And that's the problem.

Because while Nissan was waiting to bring the Ariya here, everybody else got busy.

There's the Tesla Model Y.

The Hyundai IONIQ 5.

The Kia EV5.

The BYD Sealion 7.

The Skoda Enyaq.

And an increasingly enormous collection of electric SUVs competing for roughly the same buyers.

Some charge faster.

Some travel further.

Some offer considerably more performance.

Others aggressively undercut the Nissan on price.

So the Ariya Evolve can't simply turn up and announce that Nissan now makes an electric SUV.

That would have worked five years ago.

Not anymore.

Fortunately, the Ariya has another argument.

Refinement.

The interior is excellent.

The ride is good.

The performance is effortless.

The e-4ORCE system gives it impressive composure.

And the entire vehicle has a maturity that suggests Nissan's experience with EVs wasn't wasted.

It's not trying to win the specification-sheet Olympics.

It's trying to be a good car.

There's something refreshing about that.

Verdict

The Nissan Ariya Evolve leaves me with one overriding question.

Why did Australia have to wait so long?

Because there's fundamentally an awful lot to like here.

It's handsome.

Comfortable.

Quiet.

Fast.

Spacious.

Beautifully finished.

And with 290kW, 600Nm and dual-motor all-wheel drive, the flagship Evolve has enough performance to make things entertaining without turning every traffic-light departure into an amusement-park ride.

The e-4ORCE system is clever.

The interior is genuinely distinctive.

And the 487km range makes it realistic as an everyday family vehicle.

The problem isn't really the Ariya.

It's time.

While Nissan was waiting, everybody else caught up.

Then some of them overtook.

The 130kW charging speed is the obvious example.

But specifications aren't everything.

Spend a week living with a car and you're not constantly thinking about its maximum DC charging rate.

You're thinking about whether the seat is comfortable.

Whether the ride is good.

Whether the controls annoy you.

Whether your family fits.

Whether you actually enjoy getting into it every morning.

And on those measures, the Ariya gets an awful lot right.

Nissan helped introduce ordinary people to electric cars more than fifteen years ago.

With the Ariya Evolve, it finally has the sophisticated electric SUV to match that history.

We're glad you're here, Nissan.

Next time?

Maybe don't make us wait quite so long.

Review: Hyundai ioniq 9

Remember when electric cars were supposed to be small?

Lightweight.

Aerodynamic.

Efficient little things designed to quietly transport a couple of people around the city while using as little energy as possible.

Yeah.

About that.

Meet the Hyundai IONIQ 9.

It's more than five metres long, can carry up to seven people, has a wheelbase longer than some entire small cars and, depending on specification, sends more than 300kW through all four wheels.

Apparently nobody told Hyundai that EVs were supposed to be little eco-boxes.

And I'm rather glad they didn't.

Because underneath the enormous dimensions and considerable amount of technology is something surprisingly straightforward:

A genuinely useful electric family SUV.

Not an EV that happens to have seven seats.

Not a technological experiment with some cupholders added afterwards.

A proper family SUV that just happens to run entirely on electricity.

And perhaps that's the most important distinction of all.

Price and Key Specifications:

The IONIQ 9 arrives in Australia as Hyundai's flagship electric SUV, sitting above the IONIQ 5 and IONIQ 6 and sharing its fundamental E-GMP electric architecture with vehicles including the Kia EV9.

Three variants form the Australian range: Dynamiq, Calligraphy and Calligraphy Performance.

And this isn't cheap motoring.

The range begins at around $120,000 before on-road costs, while the flagship Performance pushes beyond $140,000.

For a Hyundai.

Yes, we're having this conversation again.

But as we discovered with the new Palisade, judging modern Hyundai products against what the badge represented twenty years ago is becoming increasingly pointless.

All IONIQ 9 variants use an enormous 110.3kWh battery, while outputs vary depending on specification.

The rear-wheel-drive Dynamiq prioritises range, while Calligraphy adds a second electric motor and all-wheel drive. The flagship Performance turns things up considerably further, producing 315kW and 700Nm.

That means the biggest Hyundai currently on sale can also accelerate from 0-100km/h in a claimed 5.2 seconds in Performance guise.

Because apparently your seven-seat family bus needs to embarrass hot hatches at traffic lights.

Obviously.

More importantly, claimed WLTP driving range stretches beyond 600km in the most efficient configuration.

And that number matters far more.

Design:

View fullsize

The IONIQ 9 is enormous.

There's no clever way of putting that.

At more than five metres long and almost two metres wide, it occupies a serious amount of road.

But Hyundai's designers have done an impressive job of preventing it from looking like an apartment building with wheels.

The shape is unusually smooth.

Hyundai describes it as an Aerosthetic design, which sounds suspiciously like a word invented during a marketing meeting, but the thinking behind it makes sense.

The roofline flows gently towards the rear.

The bodywork is remarkably clean.

And Hyundai's now-familiar Parametric Pixel lighting gives the IONIQ 9 an unmistakable family resemblance to the IONIQ 5 and IONIQ 6.

It looks futuristic without looking ridiculous.

Mostly.

The rear is perhaps the most divisive angle.

There's something almost boat-like about it, particularly around the enormous tailgate and vertical pixel lighting.

But it's certainly distinctive.

And I increasingly appreciate manufacturers willing to make EVs look like something other than regular SUVs with a blank panel where the grille used to be.

Hyundai has created a genuine IONIQ design language.

You might not love every part of it.

But you'll know exactly what you're looking at.

Interior and Practicality:

This is where the IONIQ 9 starts making an enormous amount of sense.

Because the real luxury here isn't leather.

It isn't ambient lighting.

It isn't the screens.

It's space.

There is an absurd amount of it.

The completely flat floor and enormous wheelbase allow Hyundai to use virtually every millimetre of the cabin, and the result feels less like climbing into an SUV and more like entering a small lounge room.

A very technologically advanced lounge room.

The dashboard itself is relatively restrained.

Twin 12.3-inch displays handle instrumentation and infotainment duties, while Hyundai — thankfully — retains physical controls for several commonly used functions.

There are buttons.

Actual buttons.

Once again:

Thank you, Hyundai.

Apparently somebody in Seoul still understands that adjusting the temperature shouldn't require navigating a submenu while travelling at 100km/h.

Material quality is excellent, particularly in Calligraphy specification.

Soft-touch surfaces cover the important areas, the seats are beautifully finished and the whole cabin has a calm, almost minimalist atmosphere.

But the cleverness is in the details.

The centre console can slide.

There are storage areas everywhere.

USB-C ports seem to multiply every time you look around the cabin.

And because there's no transmission tunnel running through the vehicle, moving between the front seats and rear cabin becomes considerably easier.

It's the sort of interior that feels like somebody actually put a family inside the prototype before signing off the design.

An increasingly novel concept.

The Second Row:

Here we go again.

Apparently Hyundai has declared war on uncomfortable children.

Higher-specification six-seat versions replace the conventional second-row bench with individual captain's chairs, creating something remarkably close to business-class seating.

Depending on configuration, occupants can recline, stretch out and generally enjoy a level of comfort that would have seemed absurd in a Hyundai not particularly long ago.

Which brings us back to an important question from the Palisade review:

Do children deserve this?

Still no.

Nothing has changed.

I spent childhood road trips sitting in the back of cars with seats approximately as comfortable as outdoor furniture.

Today's children get climate control, USB-C charging and reclining captain's chairs.

They don't know they're alive.

Joking aside, the second row is superb.

And unlike many three-row SUVs, accessing the third row doesn't require advanced gymnastics.

The Third Row:

This is perhaps more important.

Because plenty of SUVs advertise seven seats.

Far fewer offer seven seats you'd voluntarily put people in.

The IONIQ 9's third row benefits enormously from the vehicle's electric architecture.

There's usable legroom.

There's decent headroom.

And because the floor doesn't rise dramatically beneath passengers' feet, adults aren't forced into the knees-under-chin seating position common in smaller seven-seaters.

Children will obviously be perfectly comfortable.

Adults?

They can actually stay there.

For more than twenty minutes.

That's an achievement.

There's also useful luggage space remaining with all three rows occupied, and folding the third row creates the sort of enormous load area you'd expect from something this size.

There's even additional storage under the bonnet.

Or a frunk.

Front trunk.

Whatever we're collectively calling it this week.

Driving:

Here's where the IONIQ 9 does something rather clever.

It doesn't try to feel sporty.

Thank goodness.

We've reached a strange point in automotive history where manufacturers seem convinced every enormous SUV needs steering developed at the Nürburgring.

It doesn't.

Nobody has ever loaded three children, two suitcases, a pram and a week's worth of groceries into a seven-seat SUV and thought:

"I really hope the turn-in is aggressive."

Hyundai understands the assignment.

The IONIQ 9 is tuned primarily around comfort.

And it shows.

The ride is impressively compliant, particularly considering the enormous wheels fitted to higher specifications.

Road noise is extremely well suppressed.

Wind noise is minimal.

And without an internal-combustion engine doing anything up front, the cabin remains wonderfully quiet.

It suits the car perfectly.

Acceleration is similarly effortless.

Even the less powerful versions have the immediate torque response inherent to electric motors.

Put your foot down and something this enormous simply gathers speed without drama.

The Performance?

That's different.

With 315kW and 700Nm, it can move with frankly unnecessary enthusiasm.

And yes.

Unnecessary things can still be entertaining.

There's something inherently amusing about burying the accelerator in what amounts to an electric family lounge room and watching the horizon suddenly arrive much sooner than expected.

But after doing that once or twice, you'll probably return to driving it the way it wants to be driven.

Quietly.

Smoothly.

Comfortably.

And that's where the IONIQ 9 is at its best.

Range and Charging:

Now we get to the question that matters with any large electric family SUV.

Can you actually travel in it?

Increasingly, yes.

The enormous 110.3kWh battery gives the IONIQ 9 a claimed range exceeding 600km in its most efficient configuration.

Real-world highway driving will naturally reduce that figure, particularly with a full cabin, luggage, air-conditioning and larger wheels.

But we're well beyond the era of large EVs offering 300km and asking their owners to simply be brave.

Then there's Hyundai's 800-volt electrical architecture.

This remains one of the E-GMP platform's greatest strengths.

Connect the IONIQ 9 to a sufficiently powerful DC fast charger and Hyundai claims a 10-80 per cent recharge in around 24 minutes.

Read that again.

A battery with more than 110kWh of capacity.

10 to 80 per cent.

Around 24 minutes.

That's impressive.

It's also exactly the kind of technology that matters far more to EV ownership than another half-second removed from the 0-100km/h time.

Fast charging changes road trips.

And Hyundai remains amongst the best in the business at it.

Vehicle-to-Load:

There's another E-GMP party trick worth mentioning.

Vehicle-to-load.

The IONIQ 9 can essentially become a giant mobile power bank.

Using the appropriate outlet or adaptor, energy stored within the vehicle's battery can power external electrical equipment.

Camping?

Run appliances.

Working remotely?

Charge equipment.

Blackout at home?

There are suddenly more than 100kWh of electricity sitting in your driveway.

Obviously, you're not going to power everything indefinitely.

But the capability is genuinely useful.

And unlike some automotive technology, it solves an actual problem.

We approve.

Technology:

There's plenty.

Wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto are available, along with wireless phone charging, digital instrumentation, connected navigation and Hyundai's extensive suite of cameras.

And yes, Blind-Spot View Monitor makes another appearance.

Indicate and a camera feed of the corresponding blind spot appears directly within the instrument display.

We've praised it before.

We're going to praise it again.

Why doesn't everyone do this?

Seriously.

It's brilliant.

Higher specifications also bring the expected collection of premium audio, surround-view monitoring, head-up display and comfort technology.

But what I appreciate most is that Hyundai generally avoids making the technology feel like the entire reason the vehicle exists.

The screens support the car.

They aren't the car.

There's a difference.

Safety:

Unsurprisingly, the IONIQ 9 comes loaded with Hyundai's latest SmartSense driver-assistance systems.

There's autonomous emergency braking, adaptive cruise control, blind-spot monitoring, rear cross-traffic assistance, lane-keeping assistance and lane-following technology, amongst numerous other systems.

The extensive camera coverage is particularly valuable in something nearly two metres wide.

Because regardless of how many clever sensors Hyundai installs, physics still says this thing is enormous.

Thankfully, the IONIQ 9 does a decent job of making you forget that from behind the wheel.

Until you find a small underground car park.

Then you'll remember.

Quickly.

Ownership:

Hyundai's Australian warranty coverage provides the usual reassurance, while the high-voltage battery receives separate long-term protection.

But one of the advantages of the IONIQ 9's electric drivetrain is reduced routine mechanical servicing.

No engine oil.

No spark plugs.

No exhaust.

No conventional automatic transmission.

Fewer moving parts generally means fewer traditional maintenance items.

Tyres, however?

Those still exist.

And they're being asked to control more than two-and-a-half tonnes of SUV with instant electric torque.

So don't expect them to cost $180 each.

The Competition:

The obvious rival is the Kia EV9.

They're related underneath, share Hyundai Motor Group's E-GMP architecture and attack essentially the same problem.

But they approach it differently.

The EV9 is angular.

Bold.

Almost architectural.

The IONIQ 9 is softer.

Smoother.

More lounge-like.

Then there are premium electric SUVs from BMW, Mercedes-Benz and Volvo, along with a rapidly growing collection of Chinese competitors.

And that's where Hyundai's pricing becomes interesting.

Because once you're spending $120,000, $130,000 or $140,000 on a vehicle, the badge inevitably becomes part of the conversation.

Some buyers simply won't spend that money on a Hyundai.

Fair enough.

But we're increasingly reaching the same conclusion with several of the company's flagship products.

Sit inside one before you decide.

Because the gap between what people think a Hyundai should feel like and what Hyundai is actually building has become enormous.

Verdict:

The IONIQ 9 isn't really about electricity.

That sounds strange considering it doesn't have an engine.

But hear me out.

The best thing about this car isn't the battery.

It isn't the 800-volt architecture.

It isn't the 315kW available in the Performance.

It's the fact that Hyundai has used an electric platform to build a better family SUV.

The floor is flat.

The cabin is enormous.

The second row is superb.

The third row is genuinely usable.

It's quiet.

It's comfortable.

It can travel serious distances.

And when you do need to charge, it can replenish its enormous battery remarkably quickly.

That's what electric architecture should be doing.

Not simply producing absurd acceleration figures.

Making the car itself better.

Is it expensive?

Absolutely.

Is it enormous?

Very.

Will you occasionally reconsider your life choices while attempting to park it at Westfield?

Almost certainly.

But if you need three proper rows of seats and you're ready to make the switch to electric, the IONIQ 9 makes a surprisingly convincing argument.

Hyundai hasn't built an electric SUV that happens to work for families.

It has built a family SUV that happens to be electric.

And that's a far more important achievement.

Review: Hyundai Palisade Calligraphy

Nearly $100,000.

For a Hyundai.

There was a time when putting those two things in the same sentence would have sounded completely absurd.

And yet, here we are.

The 2026 Hyundai Palisade Calligraphy Hybrid AWD can nudge remarkably close to six figures once it's sitting in your driveway.

The obvious question, then, is:

Has Hyundai lost its mind?

Spend some time inside the new Palisade and the answer becomes considerably more complicated.

Because Hyundai hasn't simply taken the previous Palisade, added another screen, stitched some nicer leather across the seats and increased the price.

This is an entirely new vehicle.

It's bigger.

More sophisticated.

More luxurious.

And for Australia, its headline powertrain is now a turbocharged petrol-electric hybrid producing 245kW and 460Nm.

Most importantly, the Palisade no longer feels like a mainstream SUV attempting to impersonate something premium.

It feels properly premium.

Which creates a fascinating problem.

Because once Hyundai builds a car this good, at what point are we supposed to stop saying:

"Yeah, but it's a Hyundai?"

Price and Key Specifications:

The flagship 2026 Hyundai Palisade Calligraphy Hybrid AWD starts from $89,900 before on-road costs in eight-seat form, while choosing the seven-seat configuration lifts that to $90,900.

That's serious money.

We'll come back to that.

Under the bonnet is a 2.5-litre turbocharged four-cylinder petrol engine, paired with an electric motor and small 1.65kWh battery.

The petrol engine produces 192kW and 353Nm, while the electric motor contributes 54kW and 264Nm.

Combined system output is a substantial 245kW and 460Nm, delivered to all four wheels through a conventional six-speed automatic transmission.

And I like that last part.

No CVT.

No strange single-speed hybrid arrangement.

No transmission that sends the engine screaming towards the redline every time you attempt to merge onto a motorway.

A proper automatic gearbox.

Thank you, Hyundai.

Official combined fuel consumption is 6.8L/100km, impressive considering the Palisade is more than five metres long and weighs comfortably over two tonnes.

There's also a 2,000kg braked towing capacity.

So while the new Palisade has certainly become more luxurious, it hasn't forgotten the family-SUV part of the brief.

Design:

The previous Palisade was handsome.

The new one has presence.

There's an important difference.

At 5,060mm long and 1,980mm wide, this is a substantial vehicle, and Hyundai hasn't attempted to disguise that fact.

Instead, the design embraces it.

The new Palisade is boxier and considerably more upright than before, with an enormous front-end treatment dominated by vertical lighting elements and a broad grille.

There's almost a hint of Range Rover about the proportions.

Not because Hyundai has copied one.

But because the designers have clearly understood something luxury SUV manufacturers have known for years:

Big SUVs look good when they look big.

The Calligraphy's 21-inch alloy wheels fill the arches nicely, while the sheer sides and strong shoulder line give the Palisade a much more substantial appearance than its predecessor.

From the rear, the upright design continues.

It's clean.

Simple.

Confident.

And importantly, Hyundai hasn't covered the thing in fake vents and unnecessary pieces of gloss-black plastic in an attempt to make a three-row family SUV look like it's about to enter a touring-car championship.

Good.

It's a Palisade.

Not an i30 N.

Let it be a Palisade.

Interior and Practicality:

This is where things get interesting.

Because if you're still struggling with the idea of spending around $90,000 before on-roads on a Hyundai, climb inside one.

Then we'll talk.

The new Palisade Calligraphy interior is excellent.

Not excellent for a Hyundai.

Excellent.

Full stop.

There are twin 12.3-inch displays across the dashboard, but Hyundai hasn't simply glued enormous televisions to every available surface and declared the interior futuristic.

There are still physical controls.

Actual buttons.

For things you use regularly.

What a concept.

Thank you, Hyundai.

Material quality is similarly impressive.

The Calligraphy receives Nappa-appointed leather, a suede-appointed headlining, ambient lighting and beautifully finished trim throughout the cabin.

The front seats are heated and ventilated and incorporate Hyundai's Premium Relaxation function with extending leg rests.

Yes.

A Hyundai Palisade now has reclining relaxation seats with leg rests.

Remember when Hyundais came with a cassette player?

We've come some distance.

There's also a head-up display, digital centre mirror, heated steering wheel and a 14-speaker Bose audio system.

But the real luxury isn't any individual feature.

It's space.

There's loads of it.

The Palisade can be configured with seven or eight seats, and unlike plenty of SUVs that technically have a third row, the seats back there are actually usable.

Adults can fit.

Children certainly can.

And nobody needs to remove their legs before climbing aboard.

There's 300 litres of luggage capacity behind the third row, expanding to 712 litres with it folded and a cavernous 2,081 litres with the second row down as well.

This is what a proper family SUV should be.

Not simply enormous outside.

Actually useful inside.

The Second Row:

Normally, the second row gets a few sentences buried somewhere in the practicality section.

Not here.

Because if you're buying the seven-seat Calligraphy, the middle row is arguably one of the best seats in the house.

The seven-seater receives individual second-row relaxation seats.

They're heated.

They're ventilated.

They recline.

They have their own armrests.

And suddenly the children are travelling considerably better than you did in Business Class on your last domestic flight.

This raises an important parenting question.

Do children deserve ventilated captain's chairs?

No.

Obviously not.

They can sit on a milk crate like we did.

Unfortunately, Hyundai disagrees.

And once your children discover those buttons, there's absolutely no going back.

There are USB-C outlets scattered throughout the cabin, plenty of storage, cupholders everywhere and enough charging capability to keep an entire family's collection of electronics alive on a road trip.

Hyundai understands how families actually use cars.

And it shows.

Driving:

The previous Palisade was available with Hyundai's excellent 2.2-litre turbo-diesel.

It's gone.

I know.

Give diesel enthusiasts a moment.

The replacement hybrid, however, makes a surprisingly convincing argument for itself.

Around town, the electric motor can handle small movements and assist the petrol engine during acceleration, making the Palisade remarkably quiet and smooth in everyday driving.

There's none of the slightly agricultural soundtrack that occasionally accompanied the old diesel.

Instead, you pull away quietly.

The petrol engine joins proceedings when required.

And most of the time, the transition between the two is impressively unobtrusive.

With 245kW and 460Nm, there's also considerably more performance available than you might expect from something this large.

Nobody needs a Palisade to be fast.

But nobody enjoys a two-tonne SUV feeling underpowered either.

The hybrid sits nicely between those extremes.

Put your foot down and there's enough shove to merge, overtake and move the family around without drama.

Then back off and it returns to being quiet and relaxed.

Exactly as it should.

The steering is light around town, visibility is excellent and the various camera systems make manoeuvring nearly five metres of Hyundai considerably less intimidating than the dimensions suggest.

The suspension also deserves praise.

There's an underlying softness to the Palisade that suits its purpose beautifully.

This isn't pretending to be a sports SUV.

And thank goodness for that.

There are no rock-hard dampers attempting to convince you that taking the children to swimming lessons is somehow qualifying for the Nürburgring.

It rides like a luxury family SUV.

Because that's what it is.

Hybrid Life:

Importantly, this isn't a plug-in hybrid.

There's nothing to charge.

No cable to remember.

No wallbox required.

The Palisade manages its small battery itself, recovering energy through regenerative braking and using the electric motor whenever it makes sense.

For the average family, that's incredibly easy.

You simply drive it.

Hyundai claims 6.8L/100km on the combined cycle.

As always, real-world consumption will depend heavily on where and how you drive.

But there's something inherently satisfying about a huge, seven- or eight-seat SUV consuming fuel at a rate that would once have been respectable for a medium-sized sedan.

That's progress.

Not as exciting as 0-100km/h in three seconds.

But considerably more useful when you're paying the fuel bill.

Technology:

The Palisade contains an enormous amount of technology.

But perhaps more importantly, most of it feels like technology designed to make life easier rather than simply giving the brochure another bullet point.

Wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto?

Of course.

Wireless charging?

Naturally.

Head-up display?

Yep.

Digital rear-view mirror?

Absolutely.

Surround-view cameras?

Essential in something roughly the dimensions of a regional shopping centre.

There's also Hyundai's excellent Blind-Spot View Monitor, which displays a live camera image within the instrument cluster when you indicate.

We've said this before and we'll say it again:

Why doesn't everyone do this?

It's brilliant.

Simple.

Useful.

Exactly what automotive technology should be.

Safety:

As you'd expect, Hyundai has thrown virtually its entire SmartSense catalogue at the Palisade.

There's autonomous emergency braking, blind-spot collision avoidance, rear cross-traffic collision avoidance, lane-keeping assistance, lane-following assistance and navigation-based adaptive cruise control amongst the available systems.

And while modern Hyundais can occasionally become a little enthusiastic with their various warnings and chimes, the underlying safety technology is comprehensive.

For a vehicle specifically designed around carrying families, that's exactly what you want.

Ownership:

Hyundai's Australian warranty offering has also become more competitive.

The standard factory coverage remains five years with unlimited kilometres, but owners who maintain eligible vehicles through Hyundai's dealer network can receive warranty coverage extending to seven years/unlimited kilometres, alongside Hyundai's roadside-assistance program.

Service intervals for the hybrid are 12 months or 10,000km.

But the Palisade also benefits from something that's easy to overlook when comparing it against traditional premium brands.

Hyundai has dealers everywhere.

That's not particularly glamorous.

But neither is driving two hours to service your luxury SUV.

The Competition:

This is where the Palisade's new price becomes impossible to ignore.

At around $90,000 before on-road costs for the Calligraphy Hybrid, we're no longer talking about a bargain-basement alternative.

Obvious rivals include the Toyota Kluger Grande, Mazda CX-90 and Kia Sorento, while the price inevitably starts inviting comparisons with entry-level premium SUVs as well.

But here's where the Palisade makes an interesting argument.

Spend the same money on a premium badge and you'll generally get considerably less vehicle.

Less equipment.

Less space.

And quite possibly fewer seats.

The Hyundai counters by essentially throwing everything it has at you.

Nappa leather.

Ventilated seats in two rows.

Relaxation chairs.

Dual sunroofs.

Bose audio.

Head-up display.

Three genuinely usable rows.

Hybrid power.

And enough technology to make the family laptop nervous.

The badge might not carry the same prestige as BMW, Mercedes-Benz or Audi.

But the actual vehicle?

The gap isn't what it used to be.

Not even close.

Verdict:

So.

Nearly $100,000 for a Hyundai.

Ridiculous?

Ten years ago, perhaps.

Today?

I'm not so sure.

Because judging the Palisade Calligraphy purely by the badge on its bonnet does the vehicle a disservice.

This isn't Hyundai attempting to charge luxury-car money for an ordinary family SUV.

It's Hyundai building an extraordinarily well-equipped, genuinely luxurious family SUV — and pricing it accordingly.

There's enormous space.

Three usable rows.

An excellent interior.

A powerful and refined hybrid drivetrain.

Impressive fuel economy.

Loads of technology.

And perhaps most importantly, a sense that Hyundai understands exactly what people buying a vehicle like this actually need.

Would I like it to be cheaper?

Obviously.

I'd like everything to be cheaper.

But that's not really the question.

The question is whether the Palisade feels like a $90,000 vehicle.

And remarkably...

it does.

Perhaps that's the biggest compliment we can give it.

Because the hardest part about accepting the price of the new Palisade isn't anything Hyundai has done wrong.

It's getting your brain to forget what the Hyundai badge meant twenty years ago.

The cars have moved on.

Maybe it's time we did too.

Review: BMW iX xDrive45

The BMW iX is a weird car.

There. We said it.

Even several years after it first appeared, it still looks slightly like somebody at BMW accidentally enlarged a concept car and then nobody had the courage to tell them they weren't supposed to put it into production.

There's the enormous grille.

The strangely narrow headlights.

The almost completely flat sides.

And an interior that looks like it belongs in a Scandinavian furniture showroom sometime around the year 2040.

But here's the problem.

Spend some time driving one and you start to forgive an awful lot.

Because underneath the unconventional styling is an exceptionally comfortable, beautifully engineered and remarkably refined electric luxury SUV.

And with the updated 2026 BMW iX xDrive45, the entry point into the range has become considerably more interesting.

More power.

More range.

Improved efficiency.

And still one of the most distinctive cabins BMW has ever put into production.

You might not love looking at it.

But you may very well love being inside it.

Price and Key Specifications:

The updated 2026 BMW iX xDrive45 replaces the previous xDrive40 as the entry point into the Australian iX range.

And entry-level is a fairly amusing description for something costing comfortably into six figures.

Power comes from two electrically excited synchronous motors — one on each axle — giving the xDrive45 all-wheel drive.

Combined output has increased substantially over the previous xDrive40, with 300kW and 700Nm now available.

That's enough to send this enormous electric SUV from 0-100km/h in 5.1 seconds.

Which is objectively ridiculous.

Not because 5.1 seconds is particularly shocking in the modern EV world.

But because the iX doesn't feel like a car remotely interested in drag racing anyone.

Its performance is almost incidental.

The xDrive45 uses a 100.1kWh usable battery, with claimed WLTP driving range stretching beyond 600 kilometres depending on specification.

That's important.

Because we're reaching the point where electric SUVs like this no longer require their owners to organise their entire lives around finding a charger.

And that fundamentally changes the experience.

Design:

Right.

The grille.

We have to talk about it.

BMW insists on calling the enormous panel between the headlights a kidney grille, despite the fact that the iX doesn't require a conventional radiator grille and these particular kidneys appear to have consumed several other internal organs.

It's enormous.

But here's the strange thing.

I'm not sure I'd change it.

Because the iX was never supposed to look conventional.

BMW could have designed another handsome, anonymous luxury SUV, removed the exhausts and called it electric.

Instead, it made this.

And whether you love it or hate it, you're unlikely to mistake an iX for anything else.

The 2026 update subtly revises the front-end treatment, including new lighting signatures and a redesigned interpretation of that grille, but the basic silhouette remains familiar.

From some angles, particularly the rear three-quarter, it's actually quite handsome.

From others?

Well.

Beauty is subjective.

Let's leave it there.

What deserves credit is that BMW hasn't attempted to make the iX look unnecessarily aggressive.

There aren't dozens of fake vents or enormous wings pretending this 2.5-tonne luxury SUV is about to qualify at Bathurst.

It's unusual.

But it's confidently unusual.

I can respect that.

Interior and Practicality:

Then you open the door.

And suddenly you stop caring about the grille.

The iX interior remains one of BMW's best.

Not necessarily because it has the most technology.

It doesn't.

Not because it has the largest screens.

It doesn't.

But because it feels like BMW actually reconsidered what the interior of a luxury electric vehicle should be rather than simply replacing the engine with batteries.

The dashboard is incredibly minimalist.

BMW's curved display floats above it, combining the digital instrument cluster and central infotainment display into one sweeping panel.

There's very little physical switchgear.

Normally, that sentence would annoy me.

And there are still functions buried within BMW's operating system that I'd prefer to access with a button.

But importantly, BMW kept the iDrive rotary controller on the centre console.

Thank you, BMW.

Because sometimes a beautifully engineered physical control really is better than stabbing at a touchscreen while travelling over a bumpy road.

The controller itself sits amongst an unusual collection of crystal-effect switchgear, while the open centre-console design gives the front of the cabin an enormous sense of space.

The steering wheel isn't even round.

It's somewhere between a hexagon and something BMW's design department found in a geometry textbook.

But strangely, it works.

Material quality is excellent.

There's leather, metal, beautifully finished trim and interesting textile options throughout the cabin.

More importantly, it feels special.

That's something increasingly difficult to achieve when virtually every modern luxury vehicle contains a large screen and ambient lighting.

The iX doesn't feel like another BMW interior.

It feels like an iX interior.

Rear-seat space is enormous thanks to the flat floor and long wheelbase, and three adults can genuinely occupy the second row without immediately negotiating who gets the least terrible seat.

There's also a substantial boot behind them, making this a properly useful family SUV rather than an electric technology showcase with nowhere to put the groceries.

Driving:

This is where the iX starts making a lot more sense.

Because whatever you think of the exterior, BMW hasn't forgotten how to engineer a car.

Pull away and the first thing you notice is silence.

Not simply the absence of an engine.

Proper silence.

Wind noise is remarkably well suppressed.

Road noise is distant.

Even at highway speeds, conversations happen at almost living-room volume.

Then there's the ride.

The iX has this wonderfully relaxed way of moving down the road.

There's significant mass underneath you — batteries are not famous for being light — but BMW has done an exceptional job of disguising it during normal driving.

The xDrive45's 300kW doesn't arrive with the violent neck-snapping theatrics some EV manufacturers seem obsessed with.

Instead, acceleration is strong, immediate and beautifully progressive.

Put your foot down and the iX simply goes.

No gearbox kickdown.

No engine suddenly shouting at 5,500rpm.

No hesitation.

Just 700Nm.

Immediately.

And that's exactly how a luxury EV should behave.

The strangest thing happens when the road becomes interesting.

Because this enormous electric lounge room can actually handle.

The steering is accurate and beautifully weighted, body control is impressive, and the low-mounted battery means the centre of gravity sits considerably lower than the dimensions suggest.

No, you don't suddenly forget you're driving a large SUV.

And nobody is trading their M3 for one after attacking a mountain road.

But there's enough BMW DNA underneath the serenity to remind you which company engineered it.

That's important.

Because BMW could easily have made the iX merely comfortable.

Instead, it made it comfortable and surprisingly satisfying to drive.

Range and Charging:

This is arguably where the updated xDrive45 makes its biggest case.

A claimed WLTP range beyond 600 kilometres moves the iX into genuinely useful long-distance territory.

Real-world range will naturally vary with weather, wheel choice, driving style and highway use.

But psychologically, 600 kilometres matters.

It starts sounding less like an electric-car number and more like a normal-car number.

And that's exactly where EVs need to get.

DC fast charging allows substantial energy to be added during a relatively short stop, while AC charging at home means most owners will begin each morning with whatever charge limit they've selected.

And that's the part of EV ownership that's often overlooked.

You don't necessarily drive somewhere to charge an EV like you drive somewhere to refuel a petrol car.

You park it.

Plug it in.

Go inside.

The next morning, it's ready again.

For someone with home charging, that can be enormously convenient.

For someone without it?

The equation changes considerably.

As always, whether an EV makes sense depends just as much on where and how you live as the vehicle itself.

Technology:

Unsurprisingly, the iX contains plenty of it.

BMW's infotainment system remains one of the more comprehensive offerings on the market, with wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, connected navigation, voice control and extensive vehicle configuration.

There's also BMW's excellent head-up display.

And this is one of those features that becomes difficult to live without once you've had it.

Speed.

Navigation.

Driver-assistance information.

Right there in your line of sight.

Exactly where it should be.

Depending on specification, the iX can also be equipped with an excellent premium audio system.

And given how quiet the cabin is, this might be one of the few cars where spending unreasonable amounts of money on speakers actually makes some sense.

Safety:

The iX offers the extensive collection of active safety systems you'd expect from a modern flagship BMW.

Autonomous emergency braking, adaptive cruise control, lane-keeping assistance, blind-spot monitoring and surround-view cameras are all available within the package.

And the driver-assistance systems are generally calibrated well enough that you don't immediately start hunting through menus trying to turn everything off.

That's more of a compliment than it sounds.

Particularly in 2026.

Ownership:

BMW Australia backs the iX with its five-year, unlimited-kilometre vehicle warranty, while the high-voltage battery receives separate long-term coverage.

Electric vehicles also eliminate a considerable number of conventional maintenance items.

There's no engine oil.

No spark plugs.

No conventional transmission servicing.

No exhaust system.

And regenerative braking can substantially reduce wear on the physical brakes.

That doesn't mean EV ownership is maintenance-free.

Tyres still exist.

And when you've got 700Nm moving a very heavy SUV, those tyres have plenty of work to do.

But scheduled mechanical maintenance is inherently simpler than it is with an equivalent combustion-powered luxury SUV.

The Competition:

The electric luxury SUV segment has become considerably more crowded since the iX first arrived.

There's the Mercedes-Benz EQE SUV, the Audi Q8 e-tron and its successors, the Porsche Macan Electric, along with increasingly sophisticated alternatives from manufacturers that barely existed a decade ago.

And then there are vehicles like BMW's own electric offerings that have gradually expanded around it.

But the iX still feels different.

Some rivals are essentially electric versions of familiar luxury SUVs.

The iX isn't.

It was designed from the beginning around its electric architecture.

And you can feel that in the packaging.

The enormous interior.

The flat floor.

The unconventional dashboard.

The proportions.

Whether that makes it better depends entirely on what you're looking for.

But it unquestionably gives the iX its own personality.

Verdict:

The BMW iX is still weird.

After spending time with it, I'm not going to sit here and tell you that enormous grille suddenly becomes beautiful.

It doesn't.

But something else happens.

You stop caring.

Because you're sitting behind it.

And from there, the iX is exceptional.

It's incredibly quiet.

It's enormously comfortable.

It's properly quick.

There's enough range to make long-distance travel realistic.

The cabin feels genuinely special.

And underneath all the technology and sustainability messaging, there's still enough BMW engineering talent to make the thing surprisingly enjoyable when the road begins to twist.

The xDrive45 only strengthens that argument.

More power and considerably more usable range address two of the areas that mattered most, without fundamentally changing what made the iX interesting in the first place.

There are prettier electric SUVs.

There are cheaper electric SUVs.

And there are undoubtedly electric SUVs with more dramatic acceleration figures.

But few manage to combine comfort, refinement, technology and genuine driving ability quite as convincingly.

Perhaps the greatest compliment I can give the iX is this:

BMW built one of the strangest-looking cars in its history — and somehow made it good enough that you stop looking at it.

Honestly?

I'll take that over boring.

Review: Isuzu MU-X X-Terrain

There is something refreshingly honest about an Isuzu MU-X.

It has never pretended to be a sports car.

It has never tried particularly hard to be a luxury SUV.

And nobody at Isuzu appears to have woken up one morning and decided what Australian families really need is a 500kW twin-turbo V8 and a Nürburgring lap time.

The MU-X has traditionally had a much simpler job.

Fit seven people.

Tow something heavy.

Go a very long way.

And preferably keep doing all of that for years without causing its owner too many headaches.

Now, however, Isuzu has decided its family 4WD could use a little more attitude.

Enter the 2026 Isuzu MU-X X-Terrain.

Sitting above the familiar LS-T, the X-Terrain becomes the new flagship of the MU-X range and brings with it tougher styling, additional equipment and some genuinely worthwhile hardware underneath.

But importantly, Isuzu hasn't attempted to reinvent the MU-X in the process.

This is still fundamentally the same honest, diesel-powered, body-on-frame seven-seat 4WD Australians have embraced for years.

It has just put its good shirt on.

And some considerably better suspension.

Price and Key Specifications:

The MU-X X-Terrain sits at the top of the 2026 range, priced from $73,990 before on-road costs.

Under the bonnet is Isuzu's familiar 3.0-litre four-cylinder turbo-diesel, producing 140kW and 450Nm.

Those outputs are sent through a six-speed automatic transmission to a selectable four-wheel-drive system incorporating high and low range.

No hybrid assistance.

No 48-volt mild-hybrid system.

No complicated dual-clutch transmission.

Just a big diesel engine, a conventional automatic gearbox and proper four-wheel drive.

There is something increasingly old-school about that combination.

And in an MU-X?

That's not necessarily a criticism.

The X-Terrain also retains the MU-X's 3,500kg braked towing capacity, which remains one of the biggest reasons buyers gravitate towards vehicles like this in the first place.

But the really interesting changes aren't under the bonnet.

They're underneath the car.

Design:

Let's be honest.

The regular MU-X isn't exactly an unattractive vehicle.

But the X-Terrain looks considerably better.

Isuzu has resisted the temptation to simply throw an enormous collection of accessories at it and call the job done.

Instead, there are darker exterior elements, unique badging, blacked-out trim and 20-inch alloy wheels, giving the flagship a noticeably more purposeful appearance.

The front end in particular has genuine presence.

There's enough aggression to differentiate it from the family-focused versions without turning it into some sort of post-apocalyptic cosplay exercise.

And that's appreciated.

Because there seems to be an unwritten rule amongst manufacturers at the moment that anything remotely associated with off-roading must look as though it's preparing to invade a small country.

The X-Terrain doesn't.

It just looks tough.

There's a difference.

The black exterior treatment works particularly well against some of the brighter paint colours, while X-Terrain branding provides enough distinction that MU-X enthusiasts will immediately know you've bought the expensive one.

Whether anyone else will notice is another question.

But you'll know.

And sometimes that's enough.

Interior and Practicality:

Inside, things remain unmistakably MU-X.

That's both a compliment and perhaps one of the areas where Isuzu's flagship still trails some newer competitors.

The fundamental layout is straightforward and easy to understand.

There are physical controls for important functions.

The climate controls don't require three touchscreen menus and a university degree to operate.

Thank you, Isuzu.

Ahead of the driver sits a digital instrument display, while infotainment duties are handled by a 9.0-inch central touchscreen incorporating wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto.

There's also wireless phone charging and the expected collection of USB connections.

X-Terrain models receive unique interior treatments designed to give the cabin a little more personality, and there's enough leather and soft-touch material around the important areas to remind you that this is the flagship.

But nobody is going to climb from a Range Rover into the MU-X and wonder where the extra money went.

That's not what this car is trying to achieve.

Instead, the interior feels robust.

Like it was designed with the understanding that somebody will eventually climb into it wearing muddy shoes.

For an adventure-focused family SUV, that's arguably more important.

The first two rows offer plenty of room, while the third row remains genuinely useful for children and acceptable for adults over shorter journeys.

And this is where the MU-X continues to make a strong argument for itself.

It's a proper seven-seater.

Not a five-seat SUV with two emergency chairs hidden underneath the boot floor.

With all three rows in use, luggage capacity is naturally reduced, but fold the third row away and the MU-X becomes an impressively useful family hauler.

School bags during the week.

Camping gear on Friday.

A trailer behind it on Saturday.

That's basically the MU-X job description.

Driving:

Start the 3.0-litre diesel and there's absolutely no confusion about what's happening underneath the bonnet.

It's a diesel.

You can hear it.

You can occasionally feel it.

And Isuzu doesn't appear particularly interested in pretending otherwise.

But once underway, the big four-cylinder settles down nicely.

The 450Nm torque peak arrives low in the rev range, meaning the MU-X rarely needs to be worked particularly hard in everyday driving.

Around town, the six-speed automatic generally keeps the engine operating within its useful torque band, while on the highway the drivetrain settles into the kind of relaxed rhythm these vehicles are designed for.

Would another 50Nm be welcome?

Absolutely.

Nobody has ever climbed out of a diesel 4WD and complained that it had too much torque.

Particularly when towing.

But outright performance has never really been the MU-X's mission.

The more important development with the X-Terrain is the suspension.

Isuzu has fitted the flagship with remote-reservoir monotube dampers, developed specifically to improve body control both on and off-road.

And this is exactly the sort of upgrade we like to see on an adventure-focused flagship.

Not another ambient lighting colour.

Not an illuminated badge.

Actual mechanical hardware.

Excellent.

The result is an MU-X that feels more controlled over broken surfaces while retaining the durability and wheel travel expected from a proper body-on-frame 4WD.

There's still no disguising the underlying architecture.

You'll occasionally feel the body move independently over larger imperfections, particularly compared with a road-focused monocoque SUV.

But again, context matters.

That BMW X5 that rides beautifully through the suburbs isn't necessarily the thing you want dragging a three-tonne caravan down a corrugated dirt road several hundred kilometres from the nearest dealership.

The MU-X is.

Steering remains relatively light around town, making something of this size surprisingly easy to manoeuvre.

And once you're settled on the highway, the MU-X makes a very convincing long-distance touring companion.

Which is exactly where it needs to excel.

Off Road:

This is where the X-Terrain badge actually needs to mean something.

Fortunately, it does.

Underneath remains a proper selectable four-wheel-drive system with low range, while Isuzu's Rough Terrain Mode can electronically manage wheelspin and torque delivery when conditions become more challenging.

There's also a locking rear differential.

And with the X-Terrain's upgraded suspension, this isn't simply an appearance package designed for people who occasionally park on grass.

It can genuinely go off-road.

Ground clearance is generous, there's substantial wading capability, and the MU-X's relatively straightforward drivetrain remains one of its greatest strengths in remote Australia.

Sometimes simple is good.

Particularly when the nearest town is three hours away.

The suspension upgrade also makes considerably more sense here.

Remote-reservoir dampers can better manage heat during sustained operation over rough terrain, helping maintain damping performance when ordinary shock absorbers may begin to fade.

Will every X-Terrain owner need that?

Probably not.

Will plenty of them simply drive to school, Woolworths and the office?

Of course.

That's true of virtually every four-wheel drive sold in Australia.

But the capability is there for those who actually intend to use it.

And that's what matters.

Towing:

For many buyers, this section matters more than almost everything above it.

The MU-X X-Terrain maintains a 3,500kg braked towing capacity, placing it firmly amongst Australia's serious tow vehicles.

And while maximum towing figures should never be considered in isolation — payload, tow-ball mass and gross combination mass still need to be understood — the basic package is well suited to caravans, boats and trailers.

The 3.0-litre diesel's low-end torque helps here.

Again, we'd happily accept another serving of torque if Isuzu offered it.

But there's something reassuring about an engine that has been developed around commercial and heavy-duty applications rather than chasing impressive acceleration numbers.

The six-speed automatic is similarly conventional.

Six ratios might sound almost quaint when some rivals now offer eight or ten.

But more gears aren't automatically better.

For towing and remote touring, predictable behaviour and proven hardware count for a lot.

Safety:

The MU-X comes equipped with Isuzu's comprehensive suite of driver-assistance systems, including autonomous emergency braking, adaptive cruise control, blind-spot monitoring, rear cross-traffic alert and lane-keeping assistance.

There's also a surround-view camera system, which is genuinely useful in a vehicle this size — particularly when manoeuvring off-road or lining up a trailer.

Isuzu has continued refining its driver-assistance technology over the years, and that's important because these vehicles spend just as much time transporting children through suburbia as they do crossing the Australian outback.

Probably considerably more, actually.

Ownership:

And this is where the Isuzu proposition becomes particularly easy to understand.

The MU-X is backed by Isuzu UTE Australia's ownership program, incorporating a six-year/150,000km warranty when servicing requirements are met, alongside roadside assistance and capped-price servicing provisions.

But the bigger attraction is arguably less tangible.

Isuzu has built a substantial reputation in Australia around diesel commercial vehicles and 4WDs.

The MU-X shares much of its underlying DNA with the D-MAX ute, and that matters to buyers planning to tow, tour or travel into remote areas.

There's also an enormous aftermarket surrounding the platform.

Bullbars.

Snorkels.

Roof racks.

Suspension.

Long-range tanks.

Underbody protection.

Drawer systems.

If you can think of something you'd like to bolt onto an MU-X, somebody in Australia probably manufactures it.

Probably three companies, actually.

The Competition:

The seven-seat diesel 4WD segment remains fiercely competitive.

The obvious rivals include the Ford Everest, Toyota Fortuner, Mitsubishi Pajero Sport and related ute-based SUVs, while buyers spending X-Terrain money may also find themselves looking further upmarket.

The Everest is perhaps the most significant comparison.

Ford's latest-generation SUV feels more modern inside, offers stronger powertrain options and arguably delivers a more polished on-road experience.

The MU-X counters with simplicity, proven Isuzu diesel hardware and an enormous Australian owner and aftermarket ecosystem.

Then there's the Toyota.

Because there is always a Toyota.

The Fortuner follows a broadly similar recipe, although it's now one of the older vehicles in the segment.

And Mitsubishi's Pajero Sport continues to make a strong value argument despite also showing its age.

Where the X-Terrain becomes interesting is that Isuzu hasn't tried to win by transforming the MU-X into something it isn't.

Instead, it has taken the existing formula and added useful hardware to it.

That's a much smarter approach.

Verdict:

The MU-X X-Terrain isn't revolutionary.

And that's probably exactly why it works.

Isuzu hasn't attempted to reinvent its seven-seat 4WD.

It hasn't filled the dashboard with enormous screens.

It hasn't installed a tiny turbocharged petrol engine assisted by three electric motors.

And it hasn't decided the family adventure wagon desperately needs launch control.

Instead, Isuzu looked at what people already liked about the MU-X and asked a much more sensible question:

How do we make it better at being an MU-X?

The answer was tougher styling, more equipment and — most importantly — meaningful suspension hardware.

It's still a little agricultural in places.

The diesel could use more torque.

And some competitors undoubtedly feel more sophisticated on the road.

But there's an honesty to the MU-X that remains enormously appealing.

It feels built for the Australian lifestyle rather than merely marketed towards it.

Load the kids in.

Fill the boot.

Hook up the caravan.

Point it towards somewhere without phone reception.

And go.

That's what an MU-X is supposed to do.

The X-Terrain simply looks a little better doing it.

Thank you, Isuzu, for spending money on the suspension instead of another ambient lighting colour.

Review: Genesis GV80 Coupe 3.5t AWD

Genesis has spent the better part of a decade trying to convince luxury-car buyers that a premium badge doesn't necessarily need to come from Germany, Britain or Japan.

And with each new model, that argument has become a little harder to dismiss.

The GV80 Coupe might be its strongest case yet.

Because this isn't simply a regular GV80 with some roofline removed in an attempt to chase the BMW X6 and Mercedes-Benz GLE Coupe.

There's something distinctly Genesis about it.

It's bold without being obnoxious, luxurious without trying desperately to remind you how much money you've spent, and underneath the bonnet sits something becoming increasingly rare in 2026: a big, twin-turbocharged petrol V6.

Perhaps most importantly, it feels like Genesis is no longer asking for permission to sit at the luxury table.

It simply pulls up a chair.

And after spending some time with the GV80 Coupe 3.5T AWD, it's becoming increasingly difficult to argue that it doesn't belong there.

Price and Key Specifications:

The 2026 Genesis GV80 Coupe 3.5T Signature AWD is priced from $137,500 before on-road costs, placing it squarely amongst established European luxury SUVs.

Power comes from a 3.5-litre twin-turbocharged petrol V6, producing 279kW at 5,800rpm and 530Nm between 1,300 and 4,500rpm.

It's paired with an eight-speed automatic transmission and an electronically controlled all-wheel-drive system, complete with an electronic limited-slip differential.

And those numbers immediately tell you something important about the GV80 Coupe.

Genesis hasn't attempted to make this some kind of fire-breathing performance SUV.

279kW is certainly not insignificant, but in a world of 400kW-plus AMG, BMW M and Porsche SUVs, the Genesis isn't chasing outright numbers.

Instead, it aims for something arguably much better suited to the car:

Effortless performance.

Official combined fuel consumption is 11.9L/100km, and the GV80 Coupe drinks 95 RON premium unleaded from an 80-litre tank.

It's also a substantial thing, measuring 4,956mm long, 1,975mm wide and 1,710mm tall, riding on a 2,955mm wheelbase.

So despite that sloping roofline, there's still plenty of SUV underneath it.

Design:

Let's get this out of the way early.

The GV80 Coupe looks fantastic.

SUV coupes are inherently difficult things to design.

Take too much height out of the rear and they can look like someone has sat on them. Leave too much in and you're left wondering why you didn't simply buy the regular SUV.

Genesis has managed to find a very convincing middle ground.

The signature dual-line headlights immediately identify it as a Genesis, while that enormous crest-shaped grille gives the front end genuine presence.

From the side, though, is where the Coupe begins to distinguish itself.

The roofline flows neatly towards the rear spoiler rather than simply dropping away, while the broad rear shoulders give it a surprisingly muscular stance.

Then there are the details.

The large air intakes, unique 22-inch wheels, flush roof rails, carbon-fibre exterior elements and proper dual exhaust outlets give the Coupe a little more attitude than its GV80 sibling.

And importantly, those exhausts are real.

Thank you, Genesis.

There's an elegance to the whole thing that many of its rivals seem to have forgotten in the race to make luxury SUVs look increasingly aggressive.

The GV80 Coupe doesn't need illuminated grilles, absurd aerodynamic appendages or dozens of fake vents to get your attention.

It just looks expensive.

And sometimes that's enough.

Interior and Practicality:

If the exterior gets your attention, the interior is probably what makes the strongest argument for Genesis as a genuine luxury manufacturer.

Because this is a seriously nice place to spend time.

Dominating the dashboard is an enormous 27-inch OLED display, combining the instrument cluster and infotainment system into one beautifully integrated panel.

But Genesis hasn't fallen into the trap of assuming luxury means replacing absolutely everything with a touchscreen.

There remains a satisfying tactility to many of the controls.

Materials are excellent.

Leather, metal and soft-touch surfaces cover virtually everything you're likely to interact with, while the switchgear has the kind of damped, deliberate movement you expect from a vehicle at this price.

The Coupe adds some welcome sporting touches as well, including a flat-bottom steering wheel, alloy pedals and contrasting stitching.

But despite those additions, this still feels like a luxury SUV first.

And that's exactly how it should be.

The seats are wonderfully comfortable, the driving position is excellent and there's an impressive sense of width to the cabin.

An 18-speaker Bang & Olufsen audio system handles entertainment duties, while Apple CarPlay and Android Auto are naturally included.

Genesis also deserves some credit for making the cabin feel different.

It doesn't look like an imitation BMW interior.

It doesn't look like an imitation Mercedes interior.

It looks like a Genesis.

That might sound insignificant, but for a relatively young luxury brand, developing a recognisable design identity is enormously important.

Rear-seat passengers aren't forgotten either.

Despite the coupe-shaped roofline, there's still enough space for adults to travel comfortably, although naturally the regular GV80 remains the better option if outright practicality is your priority.

Cargo capacity drops to 644 litres behind the second row, compared with 735 litres in the conventional GV80.

Fold those seats and the Coupe offers 1,033 litres.

That's the inevitable price you pay for the styling.

But 644 litres is hardly impractical.

Driving:

Press the starter button and the 3.5-litre V6 settles into the background with very little ceremony.

That sets the tone for much of the GV80 Coupe experience.

Because despite the word Coupe and the availability of Sport+ mode, this isn't really trying to be an oversized sports car.

It's a grand tourer.

And viewed through that lens, it makes considerably more sense.

The twin-turbo V6 is beautifully suited to the car.

With 530Nm available from just 1,300rpm, there's very little need to work it hard.

Lean into the accelerator and the GV80 gathers speed with the sort of effortless shove you'd expect from a large-capacity turbocharged engine.

There's no frantic scramble for revs.

No unnecessary theatrics.

Just torque.

Lots of it.

The eight-speed automatic generally operates unobtrusively in the background, although selecting the sportier driving modes sharpens its responses and allows the V6 to hang onto gears for longer.

And yes, if you're in the mood, the GV80 Coupe can move.

But its real talent becomes apparent when you stop trying to drive it like a sports car.

Settle into the seat, select Comfort and just let it cover distance.

Genesis uses a Road Preview electronically controlled suspension system, which employs forward-facing information to anticipate changes in the road surface and adjust the suspension accordingly.

It sounds like technology for technology's sake.

Until you encounter a poor section of road.

For something sitting on enormous 22-inch wheels, the GV80 Coupe maintains an impressive level of composure.

It doesn't completely erase sharp imperfections — physics still exists — but there's a maturity to the ride that reinforces the luxury positioning.

Push harder through a series of corners and the Coupe remains remarkably composed for something this large and heavy.

The electronic limited-slip differential can distribute torque across the rear axle, while the all-wheel-drive system provides plenty of traction when accelerating out of tighter bends.

The steering is accurate without being particularly talkative.

But again, that's okay.

This isn't the car I'd choose for a Sunday morning mountain run.

It's the car I'd choose for the three-hour drive to get there.

There's an important distinction.

Is It Really a Coupe?

No.

Obviously.

It has four doors, five seats and 644 litres of luggage capacity.

But we've collectively decided that an SUV with a sloping roofline is a coupe now, so here we are.

What matters more is whether choosing the GV80 Coupe over the regular GV80 compromises the formula too heavily.

And it doesn't.

You sacrifice some luggage space and the ability to specify the additional seating available in the conventional GV80, but in return you get arguably the better-looking vehicle with a slightly more sporting personality.

For buyers whose children, dogs or enormous flat-pack furniture collections don't require maximum cargo volume, it's not a particularly difficult compromise to justify.

Safety:

Genesis has loaded the GV80 Coupe with the sort of safety and driver-assistance technology expected at this end of the market.

There are 10 airbags, along with autonomous emergency braking, adaptive cruise control, blind-spot monitoring, lane-keeping assistance, rear cross-traffic assistance and an extensive surround-view camera system.

The blind-spot view monitor remains one of the Hyundai Motor Group's genuinely excellent ideas, displaying a live camera feed of the vehicle's blind spot within the digital instrument display when indicating.

It sounds gimmicky.

Then you use it for a week and wonder why everyone doesn't do it.

For a vehicle nearly two metres wide, the camera systems are particularly useful around town.

Ownership:

Genesis arguably has another advantage over some of its established luxury rivals once the purchase is complete.

The GV80 Coupe is covered by a five-year, unlimited-kilometre warranty, along with five years of Genesis Premium Roadside Assistance.

Genesis also offers its concierge-style ownership program, where eligible owners can have the vehicle collected for scheduled servicing and returned afterwards, with a courtesy Genesis provided in the meantime.

There is something very appropriate about that.

Luxury shouldn't end once you've left the showroom.

Because if you're spending well north of $100,000 on a vehicle, arguably the most luxurious thing a manufacturer can give you isn't another piece of leather or another ambient lighting colour.

It's your time back.

The Competition

And this is where things get interesting.

At $137,500 before on-road costs, the GV80 Coupe isn't pretending to be the cheap alternative anymore.

That puts Genesis into serious company.

The obvious rivals are vehicles like the BMW X6, Mercedes-Benz GLE Coupe and Porsche Cayenne Coupe.

And badge perception will undoubtedly matter.

For some buyers, the three-pointed star, BMW roundel or Porsche crest is part of what they're paying for.

There's nothing wrong with that.

Brand heritage has value.

But judge the GV80 Coupe purely as a vehicle and things become considerably more interesting.

The interior feels appropriately special.

The V6 is powerful and refined.

The equipment list is enormous.

The ride is excellent.

The design has genuine presence.

And Genesis has developed enough of its own personality that you're no longer left feeling as though you've purchased an imitation of something else.

The question isn't really whether Genesis can build a luxury SUV anymore.

It clearly can.

The question is whether buyers are willing to reconsider what a luxury badge needs to say on it.

Verdict:

Genesis is in an interesting position.

A decade ago, the brand needed to convince people it deserved to be mentioned alongside established luxury manufacturers.

Today?

I'm not sure it needs to do much convincing.

The GV80 Coupe feels like the product of a company that's stopped worrying about proving itself and simply started building the cars it wants to build.

And it's better for it.

It's handsome.

It's beautifully finished.

It's comfortable.

It's quick without being ridiculous.

And that twin-turbocharged V6 gives it the effortless character a vehicle like this deserves.

Is it the sharpest SUV coupe on the market?

No.

Is it the most prestigious badge in the school pick-up line?

Probably not.

But neither of those things feels particularly relevant after spending some time in it.

Because the GV80 Coupe doesn't feel like the alternative you buy because you couldn't stretch to one of the Europeans.

It feels like something you might genuinely choose instead.

And perhaps that's the point Genesis has been working towards all along.

The GV80 Coupe isn't asking whether Genesis belongs amongst the luxury establishment anymore.

It already knows the answer.

Review: Range Rover Sport P460e Dynamic HSE

There are some cars you understand before you ever drive them.

A Porsche 911 is about the way it drives. A LandCruiser is about durability. A Toyota Camry is about dependability.

And then there are cars where you think you understand the appeal — until you actually spend time in one.

That was me with the Range Rover Sport.

Within probably thirty seconds of climbing into the P460e Dynamic HSE for the first time, I had one very simple thought:

I get it now.

I get why people love these things.

Because for all the discussion around Range Rovers — the styling, the image, the pricing and occasionally the ownership reputation — there is something they do exceptionally well that doesn't really translate through a brochure.

They make you feel incredibly comfortable.

Not merely in the physical sense, although the seats are superb. There is an overall sense of calmness to the Range Rover Sport. The way it isolates you from the road. The way the controls operate. The seating position. The materials. The almost complete absence of effort required to simply travel somewhere.

It feels expensive in a way that goes much deeper than having leather on the dashboard.

And after spending time with the plug-in hybrid P460e, I began to understand why Range Rover has developed such a fiercely loyal following.

Price and Key Specifications:

The Range Rover Sport P460e Dynamic HSE sits firmly in premium-SUV territory, priced at around $181,000 before on-road costs in MY26 specification.

Under the bonnet is Jaguar Land Rover's familiar 3.0-litre turbocharged inline-six petrol engine, supported by a substantial electric motor and 38.2kWh battery pack.

Combined output is 338kW, sent through an eight-speed automatic transmission and full-time four-wheel-drive system. The result is 0-100km/h in a claimed 5.4 seconds.

That's properly quick for something weighing around 2.6 tonnes.

The P460e can also operate as a genuine electric vehicle for shorter trips, rather than simply using the electric motor as occasional assistance. Official combined fuel consumption is consequently quoted at an almost comical-looking 1.6L/100km, although like every plug-in hybrid, real-world consumption depends enormously on how frequently you charge it.

On DC power, the battery can be replenished in around 40 minutes under ideal conditions.

Design:

There aren't many large SUVs that manage to look this clean.

Our test car was finished in white with a contrasting black roof, and it suited the Range Rover Sport almost perfectly.

Modern Range Rover design has become increasingly minimalist, and the Sport is arguably where that approach works best.

There is very little unnecessary decoration.

The door handles sit flush with the bodywork. The lighting is slim. The surfaces are largely uninterrupted. Even the rear of the vehicle hides much of its lighting within a gloss-black horizontal panel.

It looks substantial without looking cumbersome.

And unlike some rivals that seem determined to prove their expense through increasingly enormous grilles and complicated bodywork, the Sport is remarkably restrained.

There's a muscularity to it, certainly, particularly over the rear haunches, but there's also elegance.

You could park one outside a five-star hotel and it looks entirely appropriate.

You could also cover it in mud.

That's very much part of the Range Rover trick.

Interior and Practicality:

This is where the “I get it now” moment really happened for me.

You open the door, drop into the driver's seat and immediately understand that Range Rover has spent decades figuring out how to make people comfortable.

The driving position is excellent.

You sit relatively high, with a commanding view out over the bonnet, but it doesn't feel remotely truck-like. Instead, there is this wonderfully relaxed sense of being positioned above everything around you.

The seats themselves are outstanding.

Soft enough to immediately feel luxurious, but supportive enough that longer drives don't leave you sinking into them.

Then there is the general atmosphere.

It's quiet. It's beautifully put together. Most things you touch feel substantial and properly expensive.

The cabin isn't particularly flamboyant either.

A large 13.1-inch Pivi Pro touchscreen dominates the centre of the dashboard, while most of the remaining architecture is clean and horizontal.

Wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto are included, alongside wireless phone charging and the usual array of connected services.

There are moments where the pursuit of minimalism arguably goes slightly too far — particularly when functions that might once have had physical buttons require interaction with the screen — but the interface itself is one of the better systems currently offered by a luxury manufacturer.

There's plenty of room in the second row, too.

Adults can comfortably sit behind adults, and despite the Sport name, this remains a genuinely practical family SUV.

Boot capacity is a substantial 835 litres with the rear seats upright, expanding to 1,860 litres when they're folded.

So while the Range Rover Sport might spend plenty of its life outside cafés, offices and private schools, it hasn't forgotten that it's supposed to be useful.

Driving:

The strange thing about driving the P460e is that the headline performance figures tell you almost nothing about what makes it enjoyable.

Yes, 338kW is significant.

Yes, 0-100km/h in 5.4 seconds is quick.

But this isn't really a car that encourages you to continually prove either statistic.

Instead, it makes rapid progress feel effortless.

Pull away gently and the electric motor can move the Range Rover Sport in near silence.

Around town, that suits the car beautifully.

There is no vibration, no engine noise and very little intrusion from outside the cabin. You simply glide away.

Ask for more acceleration and the six-cylinder engine quietly joins proceedings, combining with the electric motor to deliver a strong, almost relentless surge of torque.

It never feels frantic.

That's important.

Some performance SUVs constantly remind you how fast they are. The Range Rover Sport just seems to gather speed without making much of a fuss about it.

And there is something wonderfully satisfying about that.

The eight-speed automatic generally disappears into the background, while the air suspension does an exceptional job of isolating occupants from poor road surfaces.

This is perhaps the defining characteristic of the car.

It rides beautifully.

Even on large wheels, there's a softness to the initial suspension response that rounds off bumps rather than crashing through them.

But the clever part is that it doesn't subsequently float around like an old luxury barge.

Through faster corners, the Sport controls its considerable mass remarkably well.

You'll never forget you're piloting something weighing more than 2.5 tonnes, but there's far less body movement than you might expect.

The steering is light enough around town while remaining accurate at speed, and visibility is excellent.

It's an exceptionally easy car to drive.

And that, again, becomes part of the appeal.

You finish a long journey feeling as though you've exerted almost no effort whatsoever.

But It's Still a Range Rover:

One of the easiest mistakes to make with modern Range Rovers is assuming they've become luxury vehicles that merely retain some historic association with off-roading.

They haven't.

Underneath the leather and enormous touchscreen remains a remarkably capable four-wheel-drive system.

The Sport retains dual-range four-wheel drive, electronic air suspension and Land Rover's Terrain Response systems, while the P460e is rated to wade through up to 900mm of water.

It also has a 3,000kg braked towing capacity.

Will most P460e owners ever test the limits of those capabilities?

Probably not.

But there's something satisfying about knowing they're there.

A luxury SUV that can quietly commute to work on electricity during the week and then genuinely venture deep into the Australian countryside on the weekend remains a fairly compelling proposition.

Safety:

The current Range Rover Sport carries a five-star ANCAP safety rating, awarded in 2022.

There's a comprehensive suite of active safety equipment including autonomous emergency braking, blind-spot monitoring, adaptive cruise control, lane-keeping assistance and a surround-view camera system.

Adaptive cruise control works particularly well with the relaxed personality of the vehicle.

Set the speed, settle into those enormous seats and the Range Rover Sport becomes the sort of vehicle that could effortlessly consume hundreds of kilometres in a day.

Ownership:

This is traditionally where the Range Rover conversation becomes slightly more complicated.

Land Rover now offers a five-year, unlimited-kilometre warranty, along with five years of roadside assistance.

That brings the brand broadly into line with the expectations of the modern Australian premium market.

And as a plug-in hybrid, the P460e makes the most sense for someone who can charge regularly.

If your daily commute falls within the vehicle's electric operating range and you plug it in each evening, there's genuine potential to complete a significant portion of everyday driving without using much petrol at all.

If you never plug it in, however, you're essentially carrying a large battery around while asking a petrol engine to move a 2.6-tonne luxury SUV.

As always with a PHEV, the owner determines whether the technology makes sense.

Verdict:

Before driving the Range Rover Sport, I understood why people bought them.

Or at least I thought I did.

They looked good.

They had presence.

They carried a certain prestige.

But none of those things quite explain the loyalty these cars create.

Spend some proper time behind the wheel and it begins to make considerably more sense.

It's the comfort.

It's the silence.

It's the seating position.

It's the way it floats through traffic without feeling disconnected.

It's the effortless performance.

It's the fact that after a long drive you climb out feeling considerably less tired than you probably should.

And it's the strange sense that whatever chaos might be happening outside the windows simply isn't particularly important anymore.

There are faster SUVs.

There are sharper SUVs.

There are cheaper SUVs.

There are undoubtedly SUVs that will make a stronger argument on a spreadsheet.

But very few combine luxury, genuine off-road ability, performance and outright serenity in quite the same way.

The P460e arguably strengthens that formula even further.

Electric driving suits a Range Rover almost perfectly, because silence and effortless torque were already fundamental parts of the experience.

Which brings me back to the thought I had almost immediately after climbing aboard.

I get it now.

And perhaps that's the strongest compliment I can give it.

Review: Ford Tourneo Titanium X

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2025 Ford Tourneo Titanium X - The First Class Lounge Room on Wheels

Not every great drive is about chasing apexes. I know, I know. But it’s true. Sometimes, it’s about comfort, space, and the freedom to bring everyone (and everything) along for the ride... including your mother-in-law. Enter the 2025 Ford Tourneo Titanium X. Ford’s flagship people-mover that promises (and delivers) first-class travel for up to eight passengers. Whether you’re a family loading up for a road trip or a business moving VIP clients in style, the Tourneo Titanium X is designed to make every journey feel effortless.

Price & Key Specs Price:

• From approx. $70,990 (Plus On-Road Costs)

• Engine: 2.0-litre EcoBlue four-cylinder turbo-diesel

• Power/Torque: 125kW / 390Nm

• Transmission: 8-speed automatic

• FWD Fuel Use: ~7.5L/100km (claimed)

• Seating Capacity: Up to 8

• Warranty: 5 years / unlimited km

Design:

At just over 5 metres long and almost 2 metres tall, the Tourneo isn’t exactly subtle, but it wears its bulk well. The Titanium X trim adds premium touches like body coloured bumpers, bold chrome grille, adaptive LED headlights, privacy glass, and 19-inch alloys. Electric sliding side doors on both sides add practicality, while the tall stance ensures excellent visibility for the driver. It looks professional, premium, and purposeful. Think less delivery van, more executive shuttle.

Interior & Practical Features:

Step inside and the Tourneo Titanium X immediately feels like a first-class lounge on wheels. Leather-trimmed captain’s chairs, configurable seating, and a flat floor mean the cabin can be set up for anything from maximum people-carrying to VIP comfort. In Titanium X spec, you are also treated to heated and ventilated seats up front, a huge panoramic glass roof, ambient lighting, and tri-zone climate control. The second-row seats can also swivel to face the third row, turning the cabin into a mobile meeting room or family hangout. USB-A and USB-C ports are scattered throughout, alongside wireless charging pads and a 14-speaker B&O premium audio system run through a 13-inch touchscreen that features Sync4 with wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto. Luggage space with all seats up is tight at 672 litres, but fold the third row and it becomes much bigger at 1790 litres, more than enough for prams, luggage, or work kit. Alternatively, without the second and third row seats in place, there’s a mammoth 4683 litres of space.

Practicality & Everyday Use:

For families, the Tourneo shines brightest in the little details. The dual sliding doors make school runs and tight car parks a breeze, and kids can climb in without flinging doors into neighbouring cars. Access to the third row is straightforward thanks to wide openings and a flat floor, and once you’re back there, it doesn’t feel like the punishment seat. Adults can actually travel comfortably, with proper legroom, headroom, cupholders, and their own air vents. Fun fact, the middle seat in the second row can also be folded into a small table with cup holders. ISOFIX points are available through both the second and third rows too. Storage is absolutely abundant, with deep door bins, under-seat trays, cupholders for all rows, and a chilled centre console up front. Fold the third row down and you’ve suddenly got van-like luggage space, perfect for camping gear, surfboards, or even a DIY run. Families will also appreciate the abundance of charging points, making dead tablets and phones on long trips a thing of the past. It’s these thoughtful touches that make the Tourney Titanium X more than just transport. It’s a rolling hub that is equally at home on a family holiday, a Saturday sports run, or on airport shuttle duty. If you need to tow anything behind you, the Tourneo does have a 2500kg towing capacity, and 838kg of payload in Titanium X guise.

Driving Impressions:

Let’s be honest. You don’t get behind the wheel of a Ford Tourneo expecting fireworks, but what does strike you is how car-like it feels. The 2.0-litre turbo-diesel won’t win any drag races, and to be honest, it doesn’t need to. But, with 390Nm of torque, it pulls smoothly even when fully loaded. The 8-speed auto shifts unobtrusively, and the suspension has been tuned for comfort which irons out bumps incredibly well, keeping all your passengers happy. On the highway, the Tourneo settles really easy into a relaxed cruise. Wind and road noise are impressively hushed for something this boxy, (the only complaint we could think of was some very minor wind noise from the side mirrors) and the elevated driving position gives you a commanding view ahead. Around town, the steering is light, and while you’re always aware of its size, the standard 360-degree cameras make tight manoeuvres surprisingly stress-free. What’s most impressive is the sense of calm in the cabin. With the panoramic roof overhead, soft ambient lighting at night, and that B&O system filling the space with music, the Tourneo Titanium X feels closer to first-class air travel than traditional motoring.

Safety Tech:

Ford hasn’t skimped on safety. The Tourneo Titanium X comes with adaptive cruise with stop & go, lane-keep assist, blind-spot monitoring, rear cross-traffic alert, traffic sign recognition, and a full suite of airbags. A 360-degree camera and Park Assist Pro make life easier in tight spots. ANCAP testing is still pending at the time of writing this review, but given the tech on board, the Tourneo is set to tick the right boxes.

Ownership Experience:

Ford backs the Tourneo with a 5-year/unlimited kilometre warranty, with service intervals at 15,000km or annually. Running costs should be modest thanks to the efficient diesel engine. With its versatile cabin, huge space, and premium trim, it doubles as both a family hauler and a professional shuttle, meaning its value stretches well beyond the sticker price.

How it stacks up against the competition:

In the people-mover segment, buyers have some solid choices, but each comes with its own personality and compromises. The 2025 Ford Tourneo Titanium X doesn’t just sit alongside its rivals. It stakes a clear place in the hierarchy. It doesn’t aim to be the cheapest, the fastest, or the most tech-laden. What it does do exceptionally well however, is balance premium comfort with everyday usefulness. More executive and refined than the Kia Carnival. More practical and user-friendly than most European vans . Better value for premium ambience than the V-Class. More civilized and passenger-centric than traditional work-oriented people-movers. If your priorities are passenger comfort, modular interior utility, and an experience that feels premium without premium pricing, the Ford Tourneo Titanium X sits right at the sweet spot of the segment.

Verdict:

The 2025 Ford Tourneo Titanium X isn’t about thrills. It’s about ease. It takes the stress out of moving people, whether it’s the school run, a cross-country holiday, or chauffeuring clients. For those who need space and luxury in equal measure, it offers an experience that very few rivals can match. For the drivers? Not in the tyre-shredding sense. But if your idea of a great drive is comfort, serenity, and versatility, the Ford Tourneo Titanium X makes every kilometre feel lighter.

Review: Ford Everest Tremor

Some SUVs are built for looking tough. The Ford Everest Tremor is built for being tough. But the best part is, it doesn’t make you live with a harsh, noisy, compromised driving experience just to get the off-road credibility.

This is the Everest for buyers who want a proper seven-seat family wagon during the week, and a genuine adventure weapon on the weekend. It’s the kind of SUV that can do school drop-offs on Friday, then be covered in beach sand and mud by Sunday afternoon, without breaking a sweat or losing its comfort.

And in Tremor form, the Everest steps into a sweet spot: more capable than the standard variants, more rugged in attitude, and more ready for the real-world stuff Aussies actually do in their spare time.

Price & Key Specs:

Price: From approx. $76,000–$80,000 (Plus On-Road Costs, depending on options)
Engine: 3.0-litre V6 turbo-diesel
Power/Torque: 184kW / 600Nm
Transmission: 10-speed automatic
Drivetrain: Full-time 4WD
Fuel Use: ~9.0–9.5L/100km (claimed)
Fuel Tank Capacity: 80L
Seating Capacity: Up to 7
Towing Capacity: 3500kg (braked)
Warranty: 5 years / unlimited km

Design:

The Everest has always had presence, but the Tremor dials up the rugged factor all the way up that actually makes sense.

It sits with a more staunch attitude, looks tougher without being over-styled, and gives off that “ready for anything” vibe without being overdone and turning into a cartoon.

A distinctive honeycomb grille design with auxiliary LED lamps, a steel bash plate, heavy-duty side steps, and signature Tremor badging distinguish the hugely popular SUV from the rest of its family, along with 17-inch alloy wheels wrapped with General Grabber AT3 All-Terrain tyres and Asphalt Black Wheel Arch Mouldings. It also sits around 29mm taller thanks to the Bilstein® lift kit.

It’s big. It’s bold. But it’s still clean enough to not look out of place outside a trendy café on Monday morning. Even if it spent the weekend climbing mountain tracks.

Interior & Practical Features:

Climb inside and the Everest Tremor feels exactly how you’d want a modern family 4x4 to feel: practical, comfortable, and properly equipped.

The cabin design is clean and user-friendly, with big screens, modern infotainment, and the kind of layout that, thankfully, doesn’t require an online tutorial to navigate your way around. Everything feels robust and purposeful - like it was built to be used, not babied.

The front seats are genuinely comfortable for long drives, and the driving position is commanding, with excellent for something with this much height and road presence.

In the second row, there’s genuine space for adults, not just kids. And the third row, while still best suited to smaller passengers, is usable enough that it feels like a true seven-seater, not an “emergency only” setup.

Charging points, storage bins, cupholders and vents are all where you want them, and the Everest does a great job of feeling like a proper family wagon, without forgetting it’s a serious 4WD underneath.

Practicality & Everyday Use:

This is where the Everest Tremor really earns its keep.

For daily life, it’s surprisingly easy to live with. You’ve got a big, high driving position that makes traffic feel less stressful, and enough space inside to handle kids, gear, and all the chaos that comes with family routines.

School runs? Easy. Weekend sport? No dramas. Long trips? Even better.

With all seven seats in place, you’ve still got enough space for the everyday essentials such as school bags, groceries, and the kind of “always in the car” stuff that most families seem to accumulate.

Fold the third row down, and the Everest becomes a proper road-trip machine, with enough room for suitcases, prams, camping gear, and everything that turns a weekend away into a full-blown expedition.

Drop the second and third rows, and it opens up into a large, flat load area that feels closer to a touring wagon than a family SUV, perfect for bulky gear runs, Bunnings trips, or loading up for a proper adventure for you and your plus one.

Cargo capacity (approx.):

• Behind 3rd row (all seats up): ~259L

• Behind 2nd row (3rd row folded): ~898L

• Max space (2nd + 3rd rows folded): ~1,823L

And then there’s the big-ticket Aussie requirement: towing. With a 3500kg braked towing capacity, the Everest Tremor is ready for caravans, boats, trailers and work loads, and with 600Nm of V6 torque on tap, the Everest makes it feel confident and effortless.

Driving Impressions:

Look, you don’t buy an Everest Tremor expecting it to feel like a sports car. Ford has a completely different range of vehicles if that’s your thing. But what does surprise you is how refined and settled it feels for something that’s built to handle proper off-road work.

That 3.0-litre V6 turbo-diesel is the star of the show. Like we mentioned before, with 600Nm of torque, it pulls hard, smoothly, and effortlessly, especially when loaded up with passengers or towing weight. It doesn’t feel strained. It feels like it was built for the job.

The 10-speed automatic does a great job staying in the right gear without hunting around, and on the highway the Everest settles into a relaxed, confident cruise. It feels stable, planted, and far quieter than you’d expect for a big ladder-frame 4WD.

Around town, you’re aware of the size, but it’s not intimidating. The steering is light enough, the visibility is good, and modern camera tech makes tight parking far less stressful than it has any right to be in a vehicle this big.

And off-road? This is where the Tremor earns its badge. With its tougher suspension setup thanks to those Bilstein® Position-Sensitive Dampers, new springs, and General Grabber AT3 All-Terrain Tyres providing 29mm of additional ground clearance compared to the standard Everest, increased capability, and drive modes designed for the rough stuff, it feels like a genuine upgrade over the standard Everest. And believe us when we tell you, it’s the kind you’ll actually notice and be thankful for, when the road turns into gravel, sand, or something worse.

Safety Tech:

Ford hasn’t held back on safety tech, and the Everest Tremor comes with a strong suite of driver assistance features including adaptive cruise control, lane-keep assist, blind-spot monitoring, rear cross-traffic alert, and autonomous emergency braking.

It’s the kind of safety package that adds confidence without becoming intrusive, especially in a vehicle that’s designed to carry families and travel long distances.

Ownership Experience:

Ford backs the Everest with a 5-year/unlimited kilometre warranty, and service intervals are sensible for a vehicle in this class.

Running costs won’t be small-car cheap, it’s a big diesel 4WD with serious capability, but the payoff is versatility. You’re buying one vehicle that can do almost everything: family transport, towing duties, road trips, and proper off-road exploring.

And that’s what makes the Everest Tremor feel like a smart buy. It doesn’t just talk the talk. It walks the walk too.

How it stacks up against the competition:

The large 4WD SUV segment is stacked right now, and buyers are spoilt for choice. But the Everest Tremor sits in a very specific sweet spot, because it offers genuine off-road readiness without giving up everyday comfort.

It doesn’t aim to be the cheapest or the flashiest. What it does exceptionally well is deliver real-world off-road ability, towing strength, and seven-seat practicality in a package that still feels refined enough to live with every day.

• More comfortable and tech-rich than an Isuzu MU-X or a Mitsubishi Pajero Sport.

• More capable and adventure-ready than the standard Everest variants.

• Better balanced for family life than hardcore off-road alternatives.

• Strong towing confidence without the premium price penalty of a Toyota Prado.

If your priorities are family usability, V6 turbo-diesel torque, proper 4WD hardware, and real-world comfort, the Everest Tremor sits right at the sweet spot of the segment.

Verdict:

The Ford Everest Tremor isn’t about being the loudest or the flashiest SUV on the road. It’s about being ready.

Ready for family life. Ready for towing. Ready for road trips. Ready for dirt tracks and long weekends away. It’s the kind of vehicle that makes you feel like you can say “yes” more often. Yes to the caravan, yes to the beach trip, yes to the bush escape.

For the drivers? Not in the tyre-shredding sense. You’d be better off in a Mustang for that - preferably a Dark Horse.

But if your idea of a great drive is confidence, capability, and knowing your SUV can handle whatever the weekend throws at it, without having to sell one of your kidneys, the Everest Tremor makes every kilometre feel like an adventure waiting to happen.