Dare to be different
Despite outward appearances, there’s still some eccentricity to the latest Citroen
In an industry that rewards predictability and mimicry, pledging to be different is challenging. Considering this, it's hard to envy the likes of Citroen and Peugeot — two marques built on reputations founded on being a bit left of centre.
There are signs of a “weirdness slippage” at Citroen. The new Cactus is less of an oddity than the last. And its Kiwi lineup is a dedicated SUV affair; no oddball large sedans, no perky hatchbacks.
On the surface, the C5 Aircross, Citroen's largest SUV, appears to embrace this new-found love for convention. But, the deeper you dig, the more curiosity you find.
It's built (and priced) to be a rival for the likes of the Mazda CX-5 and Toyota RAV4, and is based on the same platform as the Peugeot 3008. Yet, it looks nothing like them. The rugged butch off-roader chiselled
edges and flared guards are largely benched here — replaced by sophistication, quirk, and wagonesque proportions.
Thin, intricate LED headlights are split with daytime running lights on top and normal lights underneath, embedded on the edges of the grille. Citroen’s much loved AirBumps return, framing the base of the doors with contrast. And each of the three dimensional-effect taillights house a quad of rectangular bubble LEDs that are repeated everywhere — from the exhaust tips to the air conditioning vents.
Despite the prioritisation of style, the C5 also is a practicality king.
Sliding rear seats make for 580L minimum boot space — with a maximum of 780L with the seats down. That obliterates most in the segment; such as the 497L Honda CRV and the 442L CX-5. The boot is buoyed by no intrusive wheel arches and a wide, square opening. A false floor and power socket add to its storage capabilities.
How much does it cost? Prices start with the $39,990 Feel and top out with the $49,990 Shine (our test car).
The Feel comes with blind-spot monitoring, autonomous emergency braking, and the stunning 12.3in digital cluster as standard fixtures. The Shine adds 19in wheels, Park Assist, a more comprehensive AEB with radar cruise, laminated windows, more power and a different gearbox. The contrast red decoration on our exterior is also a no-cost option.
Although the Shine’s features are impressive, the price gap between the two trim levels seems large. The same two models in Australia, by comparison, are separated by less than half of that $10,000 margin. Although, admittedly, Australia’s Shine skips over the more potent engine and transmission we get in New Zealand.
All flavours of Aircross come fitted with a 1.6-litre PureTech turbocharged four-cylinder, but the devil is in the detail. Entry level models make a touch less power and torque — 121kW/240Nm to the 131kW/ 250Nm of the Shine. Transmissions differ between the pairing, with the Shine swapping the lower-grade sixspeed for an eight-cog unit.
It’s an engine and transmission combination we’ve grown familiar with, given our exposure to the Peugeot 508 and revised 308 GT. But don’t think it means that all three cars drive identically.
Indeed, Peugeot and Citroen have done a bang-up job in tuning the 1.6 to feel individual in different applications; and in the C5 things are no different. The engine that feels energetic and rorty in the 308 instead takes on a more muted and restrained persona in the Aircross. Power feels sufficient for most tasks and the odd motorway stab (towing is rated at 1200kg), but it’s a powertrain that feels happiest percolating silently in the background.
Handling is equally workmanlike. The Aircross turns reasonably well on its Michelins, but has to deal with a platform that isn’t particularly light and a considerable amount of body roll. But there’s a good reason for this.
While the oddball Citroen has style and practicality among its core traits, where engineers have clearly spent the most time tinkering away is in the comfort stakes. French cars have always been renowned for comfort all the way back to Citroen’s invention of the hydropneumatic suspension system in the 1950s. It’s clearly an element that remains important to the manufacturer today.
The C5’s Progressive Hydraulic Cushion “magic carpet” damper system does a stellar job of ironing out most bumps. It’s lost somewhat on larger divots and potholes (the 19in wheels probably don’t help), but stretches of motorway and circuits of urban are handled with soft, smooth ease.
It’s the interior, though, where the Shine . . . err . . . shines. As we mentioned earlier, the back seats slide forwards and backwards. They also recline generously, allowing rear passengers to nod off on longer trips. Head room and leg room are sufficient, and each seat is capable of folding individually or being removed.
The front seats may be the single best thing about the Aircross. Never have I thrown my body into a bucket with more thigh support. The wide, long, seat base soothes each pressure point, complemented by an additional dense memory foam layer.
A fussy and sluggish infotainment system, mucky gloss black dashboard buttons, some harsh plastics, and a left-hand drive orientated gearstick can’t stop the C5’s cabin from being one of the nicest I’ve had the pleasure of sitting in this year.
Comfort is something today’s consumers take for granted, with its definition muddied by tech-led novelty. Thankfully, Citroen has not forgotten its unorthodox, weird, relaxing roots.