3-SERIES · F-PACE SVR · UX · EQC · RAPTOR
So long the benchmark in its class, can the new Three still assert itself over the competition?
The 3-Series, C-Class and V60 go at it, the F-Pace SVR becomes a slide machine and the Ranger Raptor gets serious air time
You know that rebarbative comment you might make to a friend, “You’ve changed…”?
Well the same could be said about BMW’s 3-Series, now into its seventh generation. Changed and become way more complicated. If the Eighties E30 is lodged in your mind as the definitive example – compact, rear-drive – it’s worth noting that an ’85 323i I briefly owned didn’t even have power steering.
Now look at it. Just as BMW’s range has ballooned into a gazillion different segments,
so the car that provided the brand’s centre of gravity is now a much bigger deal. In every sense: a multi-million bestseller, it long ago shifted from being an aspirational outlier to a global staple, its focus now on Beijing as much as Bavaria. This, the G20 in BMW-speak, is a 5-Series-aping shade over 4.7m long, but in a world that prizes contamination and novelty over common sense, its saloon configuration is almost a pleasing throwback.
Mind you, it’s still a busy sector. Mercedes shifted 46,000 C-Classes in 2017, its biggest selling model range in the UK (or 10m worldwide since the 190 kicked off the ‘small’ Merc-Series in 1983). Unless it’s packing AMG firepower, though, a certain stolid stoicism has always attached itself to the C, an admirable anti-fashion approach that frankly works far better in the real world of potholes, variable speed limits and Marks & Spencers triple sandwich deals.
Our third contender also reflects the paradigm shift towards comfort – and in this case, self-driving cars. A sales minnow compared with the German establishment, Volvo’s S60 nevertheless lines up here as a
potential disruptor, keen to import the design integrity and sheer desirability that’s made the XC90 such a hit into a format where success has proved much more elusive. Sure, it has fantastic seats and that crowd-pleasing iPadalike touchscreen, but this time the S60 arrives on the frontline more focused than ever. Who knows, it might even go round corners properly...
It’s also the one that most espouses the other big philosophical shift hereabouts: the death of diesel. Volvo never much liked the stuff, and with local and national governments the world over prioritising air quality over carbon dioxide emissions, the Swedes have happily expunged it from their portfolio. Volvo’s solitary engine option is a 2.0 turbo petrol 4cyl, appearing here in £37,935, 247bhp T5 guise, and kicking out 155g/km of CO2.
Such is the lurch back to petrol, and the maddening inaccuracy of modern badging, that the S60’s Mercedes parallel is the C300 in AMG line trim, powered by a 2.0 four pot producing 255bhp and emitting 155g/km. It costs £39,410. BMW, meanwhile, also favours a mendacious badge, its 330i nomenclature promising a sweet in-line six but serving up a four-cylinder, 255bhp ‘TwinPower’ 2.0-litre, emitting 165g/km under WLTP protocol. It’s £39,165, but it and the Mercedes arrived with £10k’s worth of options, not all of which are essential.
All three are very much post-dieselgate creations. Pine all you like for six cylinders and six properly spaced gear ratios, but rules is rules and you might also want to keep an eye on the BIK tax rate. Anyway, the Three is the one I’m most curious about, memories of that Thatcher-era 323i sliding around my subconscious. This engine is a very 2019 thing; it has a new fuel-injection system, a lighter crank, internal frictional losses have been reduced, its thermal properties optimised, and the engine management system uses digital trickery. Clearly, much time, intellect and engineering nous has been expended here. Yet the first time you give it the beans, it’s not an especially memorable experience. BMW units used to be such jewels but the need for progress and cleanliness has hurt this one’s character; BMW claims 0–62mph in 5.8secs and a 155mph top speed, but I’d be disinclined to go chasing those numbers.
At least it sounds throaty on start-up and has an appetite for revs. The C300 isn’t too keen on either front, the Volvo even less so. Both are decidedly vocal when stretched, and exposure to all three leaves one nostalgic for the spirited burble of the Germans’ sixes. No matter: they’re all impressively hushed at steady-state motorway speeds, smearing their way seamlessly into top gear via eight speeds on the BMW and Volvo, nine on the Mercedes. That’s the priority, right?
The 3-Series benefits from an acoustic windscreen and extra soundproofing but, to be
“ALL THREE ARE VERY MUCH POST-DIESELGATE CREATIONS”
fair, BMW has also scrupulously laid the groundwork for faster future iterations. The 3-Series has 50/50 weight distribution, a centre of gravity now 10mm lower, its body is more rigid, there’s a wider track, and the suspension mountings are 25 per cent stiffer than on the previous model. There’s a new damper technology, although the test car was fitted with the optional M Sport adaptive set-up (and differential). Our initial findings on the 3-Series were that its ride was unduly firm, but it seems acceptable enough on the test route. Its electric steering is linear and consistently weighted, if a little artificial. This side of a McLaren 600LT, though, what isn’t these days?
As you might expect, for all that modern conceits may have clipped the BMW’s wings, it still eclipses the Mercedes and Volvo when you happen upon a decent road, from its superior driving position on. Elsewhere in the S60 range you’ll find fabulous Öhlins dampers, but the T5 is relaxed to the point of being semi-detached. Even on 20in R-Design alloys, its ride is pretty plush, and it manages to string a series of demanding corners together in a wholly competent manner without getting too detailed in its dialogue. The ‘SPA’ chassis tech is clever, but the upcoming self-imposed speed limit of 112mph says it all, really. By 2020, Volvo doesn’t want anybody to be seriously injured or killed in one of its cars, and has been pushing autonomy harder than most. There’s not much to separate it from the C300 dynamically, although we know what talent and amusement Merc can liberate with the right powertrain. Just not this one. Both require you to engage Sport mode and use the paddleshifters if you do want to get a move on. (Never an issue in a decent turbodiesel.)
If an inevitable homogeneity has descended on these three as driving tools, thankfully design offers differentiation – inside and out. Technology, too. As BMW over-evolves its visual language to the point of oblivion and Mercedes reduces it to the verge of existential crisis, it’s left to Volvo to deliver the goods. The S60 is as fine an example of mainstream car design as we can think of, harmoniously surfaced where the BMW is distracted, perfectly proportioned where the Mercedes sags a little (compare their rear shoulder lines). Some of the BMW’s detailing is arguably the most imaginative, its rear lights taking their cue from the still-superb i8. It also looks better in M Sport form (a £2,200 option). Then again, some of it is pointless; the kick up on the rear doors, for example, or the slashes that eat into the headlights. Hate those. All three keep the faith with big, chunky doorhandles – surely customer clinic-driven
– and advances in LED and laser tech has given each distinctive lighting signatures.
Inside, they go their own way, too, and while much is down to personal preference, there are
“THE BMW IS THE BEST OF THE THREE INSIDE, ALTHOUGH IT’S ALSO THE LEAST PLEASING TO LOOK AT”
some ergonomic truths that can’t be avoided. The Volvo’s cabin maxes out on whatever hygge is in Swedish, it’s the most satisfyingly tactile, and even has the nicest door trims. The haptics don’t run to pulsing switchgear, and feel all the better for it. Personally, the 9in portrait touchscreen has always been too fiddly for me, and I can’t believe Volvo of all people has relegated the climate controls to a screen-only scenario. You used to be able to operate them with padded gloves on. The optional Bowers & Wilkins audio system is majestic, and even has a mode that replicates Gothenburg Concert Hall.
Mercedes raised the bar on cabin quality with the current C-Class, and it remains a fine place to be. A hi-res 10.2in central screen is the focal point of the multi-media, and our car also featured the £4,995 Premium Plus pack, which includes multi-configurable digital instrument cluster, 64-colour ambient lighting, and Burmester surround sound. Go for that and you also gain another touch-sensitive button on the Piccadilly Circus-busy steering wheel. Merc has ditched the rotary controller on its top-flight models in favour of a borderline neurotic track-pad. The C’s supposedly outdated system is superior, and suggests that carmakers risk disappearing up their own fundaments in the effort to stay contemporary.
Overall, the BMW is the best of the three inside, although it’s also the least pleasing to look at, and the Volvo is the roomiest. Nevertheless, by using a touchscreen, trackpad, iDrive controller, voice activation and old-school switchgear it covers all the bases. Crucially, despite its complexity, the 3-Series’ infotainment system is also the easiest to master and the most intuitive. BMW’s Intelligent Personal Assistant imports Alexa-style voice recognition (just say “Hey, BMW” when you get in, then ask how much the optional Technology package costs – £1,800) and its ConnectedDrive bridges the gap between your smartphone and the car. I could go on; the list of available tech certainly does.
In many ways, these three cars herald the start of the ‘post-driving’ era. BMW has sharpened the 3-Series, no question, and it’s the winner if you do want to turn the wick up. A recent tech refresh has renewed the C-Class’s appeal, but ours rode on 18in wheels and it’s that kind of car. It’ll find a rhythm, but doesn’t want to rush. The Volvo is superbly resolved, inside and out. If you can live with its pillowy handling, it’s a mobile antidote to the modern world.
“IN MANY WAYS, THESE THREE CARS HERALD THE START OF THE ‘POST-DRIVING’ ERA”