Renault Megane Zen
ALL-NEW, YET LACKS ALLROUND ABILITY, LEAVING US ALL A BIT NONPLUSSED
FRENCH flair seems to be an on-again, off-again phenomenon at Renault. Over the past two decades, its small-car staple – the Megane – has oscillated between conventional and challenging with each generation, meaning we were overdue for something with a bit more spunk this time around. Thankfully, Megane IV introduces a design theme that is subtly avant-garde, rather than wilfully polarising.
This $27,490 Zen variant might be only one level up from base (see sidebar), wearing fairly understated 16-inch alloys, but it steals the show with LED running lights at both ends. The dominating, claw-shaped front pair subscribe to the theory that you can never have too much running-light bling, yet it’s the tasteful red glow of the horizontal-strip rear LEDS that mark the Megane Zen as high-tech and sharply suited.
But does all that styling sparkle promise a level of polish the Megane isn’t quite capable of delivering? First impressions are positive, starting with generously proportioned and supportive front seats trimmed in Euro-chic cloth, ably supported by the unexpected verve of Renault’s 1.2-litre turbo four tied to a new seven-speed dual-clutch.
Gone is the frustrating off-the-line tardiness of the six-speed dual-clutch in the Clio, replaced by an effervescent keenness that transforms the Megane’s launch feel, no doubt due to the seven-speeder’s incredibly low gearing (maxing out at just 34km/h in first, 54 in second, 84 in third and 120 in fourth).
The 1.2-litre Megane easily beats its CVT rivals off the line and is only a fraction behind the 2.0-litre Mazda 3, Elantra and Cerato to 60km/h, giving an impression of unexpected muscle. But the reality is a more modest performer at higher speeds, backed by what sounds like a synthesised induction note zinging through the stereo speakers. But isn’t, apparently.
It’s when you more closely analyse the Megane Zen that cracks begin to show. For all the front seats’ goodness (including a height-adjustable passenger pew), the Renault fumbles its rear section with a weirdly convex and unnatural backrest shape that squanders the cushion’s impressive bolstering. At least kids in booster seats will appreciate the rear air vents, auto up/down windows and overall vision.
Dynamically, the most damning thing you can say about the Megane is that it’s no Clio IV. In isolation, it grips quite well and can be moderately entertaining if you set it up properly for a corner, but it lacks both cohesion and finesse. It’ll understeer at times, or occasionally smack its bump-stops over larger road scars, and there’s a busyness to its (mostly quiet) ride that jostles passengers around more than we’d like. Safe and competent it may be, but the Megane lacks the steering crispness and dynamic sweetness of its best rivals. Even its brakes lack bite. Compared to Peugeot’s 308, the Renault feels almost baggy.
The Megane can’t match the 308’s interior class, either, despite a terrific leather-bound steering wheel and loads of electronic goodies (including front/rear parking sensors, keyless entry/start, an auto park brake, tyre-pressure monitors and auto lights/wipers). But it misses out on AEB and, while the Zen’s 7.0-inch touchscreen looks techy, it carries over much of the unintuitive functionality of the previous set-up. And let’s not forget Renault’s bulky, plasticky new ‘key’ design that looks like the mouse from an old imac. It’s different, but definitely not better.
Attractive and amply equipped as it is, there’s a disconnect with the Renault. It might be a brand-new car, with a brand-new look, but it doesn’t necessarily feel it. Alongside its more entertaining, more polished and more premium Peugeot 308 compatriot, the Megane Zen is, dare we say it, a bit too Nissan. And that smarts. NP