Abarth 500E vs Mini 3D Hatch

What's the difference?

It’s not perfect, but it’s everything a hot hatch should be in the electric era — engaging, exciting, and, above all, fun.

The Mini 60 Years is another classic special edition Mini and its definitely one for the fans. I'm not at all fussed by it and would quite happily save my money for a standard Cooper S. The Mini is still one of the most playful, interesting cars from a mainstream car maker and while it doesn't please everyone with its size and weight, it's tremendous fun to drive.

It's the kind of car I could own and I always feel comfortable in - it's the perfect size for urban environments but is just as much at home belting down a freeway on a long trip or scooting down a B-road just because.

I’m just going to come right out and say it — I love the look of the Abarth 500e, even if the colour of our test car should be renamed Acid Trip, rather than Acid Green. 

I love its perfectly proportioned, hunkered-down hot-hatch styling, the new ABARTH lettering on the body, and the new scorpion logo pasted to the side.

Basically, if you can look at the Abarth and not smile, then you need to find more fun in your life.

Inside, it’s a predictably cramped-feeling space, but it’s all nicely laid out, and the more I use them, the more I like the horizontal drive controllers that don’t eat up the little space you have with a traditional shifter. The materials are a bit hit and miss, though.

Always readily identifiable, Mini updates always add detail without touching the main game. I quite like the indicators, which are big LED rings surrounding the headlights, but then again I'm a sucker for lighting. I think the Mini looks terrific in three-door form and the Union Jack rear lights have grown on me. They're a bit silly but in a good way, which kind of sums up the car. The British Racing Green looks pretty good, too. Amusingly, the puddle lamp even has a 60 Years flavour.

You can spot the Cooper S by the centre exhaust and the 60 Years has its own set of 17-inch alloys.

The cabin is pretty much the same apart from the particularly warm hue of the leather. It's a classic colour for British cars but works nicely. In the Cooper S, the panoramic sunroof is split in two, but the front section opens. It does make the car feel a bit bigger, which is handy given it's pretty tight in there. The piping is a nice touch, too, although the Piano Black on the dash was so last decade rather than so last century but at least there isn't a slab of tacky wood. The fact the interior is otherwise unchanged means there are other cheap touches that somehow fail to ruin the ambience.

Mini calls its version of iDrive 'Visual Boost' for some reason, and it's displayed via a 6.5-inch screen set in a big round dial ringed by changeable LED lights.

While I like the addition of the central screen, it’s surprisingly annoying to use — I found myself jabbing at the buttons again and again before it reacts. You need a Stephen Hawking-level intellect to figure it all out.

I was trying to turn off the Abarth Sound Generator, which I'm reliably informed is possible, but after about five minutes digging through sub-menus, I abandoned all hope.

Normally I’d spend a bit of time exploring the back seat, but frankly, once in there I didn't really feel like spending excess time back there.

The Abarth 500e is only around 3.6m long, 1.7m wide and 1.5m tall, and suffice it to say, the space is tight, and you’ll only be using the two seats in the back in an emergency, or for the smallest of kids.

The boot is pretty tiny, too, starting at 185 litres (VDA) with the rear seats up, but growing to 550L (VDA) with the split-fold rear seat lowered. 

So, not much to write home about. But criticising the tiny Abarth for a lack of practicality is like criticising a horse because it can’t swim – it’s not really in its job description.

Yep, it's a small car so expect things to be reasonably cosy. I fit in there fine but I am neither particularly tall nor broad. Taller folks will fit just fine in the front (but not too tall, don't be greedy) while larger people might find themselves uncomfortably close to their passengers.

The rear seat is bearable for children and patient adults on short trips. At least they'll be well hydrated because as well as the pair of cupholders up front there are a further three in the back for a total of five. The Mini joins the NC Mazda MX-5 as a car with a greater cup capacity than passenger capacity. Front seat passengers can keep the water topped up as there are also small bottle holders in the doors.

There are two USB ports in the front seat and a wireless charging pad that doesn't fit bigger phones under the armrest. If your iPhone is the smaller size, the combination of wireless CarPlay and charging pad is excellent.

The boot is surprisingly big for such a small car, beating many of its cheaper rivals with 211 litres with the seats in place and 731L with them folded down.

There are four ways you can have your 60th Anniversary Mini. If you're happy with 1.5-litres of power, there is the three or five-door Cooper for $33,900 and $35,150 respectively. If you want a bit more grunt, you can step up to the Cooper S three-door (the car I had) for $43,900 and the five-door for $45,150. Eagle-eyed readers who know their Mini pricing will see a price rise of $4000, and Mini Australia says you get $8500 of value. All of those prices are before on-road costs. 

The standard Cooper S package brings dual-zone climate control, keyless entry and start, driving mode selection, leather interior, reversing camera, sat nav, auto LED headlights and wipers, wireless Apple CarPlay, run-flat tyres and you can add all the 60 Years stuff on top of that.

Without putting too fine a point on it, the Mini isn't cheap to begin with, so whacking four grand on top of the already stiff pricing obviously doesn't improve matters. You do get more stuff, obviously, as suggested by the claimed $8500 figure.

That means British Racing Green IV metallic paint with Pepper White mirrors and roof or Midnight Black Lapis Luxury Blue with black mirrors and roof. Inside you get a choice of Dark Cacao with the green paint or Carbon Black with the blue paint. If you choose the latter you miss out on the special piping and details.

Cooper S buyers pick up wireless phone charging, Comfort Access pack, heated front seats and LED headlights while the Cooper S adds a panoramic sunroof, Harmon Kardon-branded system and head-up display.

There’s a single front-mounted electric motor providing the go here, with a total 113.7kW and 235Nm on offer fed through the single-speed gearbox, which is enough to push the 500e from 0-100km/h in 7.0 seconds.

Happily, the way that power is delivered makes it feel faster, and that Sound Generator does a pretty good impersonation of a petrol-powered hot hatch, rising and falling with your inputs.

The Cooper S has the usual 2.0-litre turbocharged four (the Cooper has a 1.5-litre turbo three-cylinder), serving up 141kW and 280Nm. Power finds its way to the front wheels via a seven-speed twin-clutch transmission and will push the 1265kg Cooper S to 100km/h in 6.8 seconds.

Right, there’s one obvious downside to the Abarth experience, and that is that it is fitted with a 42kWh battery that delivers a claimed 253km of driving range.

It’s worth noting that there are three Drive Modes — Turismo, Scorpion Street and Scorpion Track — and that only the first one will deliver the maximum range, because it limits inputs to 100kW and 220Nm.

Engage the other two — I’ve had it locked in Scorpion Track, for example, which gives you all of the power and deactivates one-pedal driving — and you can expect those numbers to drop.

When it comes time to charge, the Abarth 500e is set up for 85kW DC fast charging, which should take you from flat to 80 percent charged in around 35 minutes, as well as a maximum 11kW AC charging, which takes just over four hours to get to fully charged. Or you can plug it into a regular socket, which means more like 15 hours to recharge.

One last caveat: I actually wasn't able to get it to charge, which curtailed my adventures a little bit. I tried three chargers, all of which conjured an error message on the screen, and after a quick call to the folks at Abarth it transpired that a quick software update is required.

Mini reckons you'll get 5.6L/100km on the combined cycle. Maybe you could if you don't drive it like I did (I got an indicated figure of 9.4L/100km).

The Mini has stop-start to help cut fuel use around town and launch control to ruin those efforts.

Remember what I said about how just looking at the Abarth should put a smile on your face? Well, driving it paints on an even bigger grin, and it starts as soon as you fire it up.

While most EVs start silently, leaving you wondering if they're on at all, the Abarth takes a different approach, instead leaning on its sound generator, modelled on the exhaust note of the 695, to give you a throaty rumble when you fire it up. It even revs! And yes, you can turn it off (apparently), but why would you?

On the road, electric drive has actually improved the Abarth experience, I reckon, because all the harshness of the drivetrain has been ironed out, instead just leaving this smooth, potent flow of power every time you plant your right foot, with no gear changes or harsh vibrations to get in the way.

The steering is predictably direct, too, and the whole vehicle feels nimble and quick to react to your inputs.

It’s honestly the kind of car that’s fun driving anywhere, be it suburban streets or twisty backroads, and despite having a couple of options parked at my house, I found myself pulled to the Abarth for all of my trips.

Downsides? The ride is firm but comfortable on most roads, but downright uncomfortable when you clang over bumps or road imperfections. You’ll have to decide if that’s a price to high to pay, but I can live with it for the trade off. And while the cabin tech looks nice, but is fiddly and annoying to use.

Finally, the range relegates the Abarth to a second car, or for those who rarely leave the city. Which is a big ask at the price point.

Driving a Mini is a unique experience. Almost no other car on sale today has the combination of that far-away, near-vertical windscreen and an A-pillar that is almost slim by today's standards. The side of the car is almost fifty percent glass, so vision is terrific. 

It had been a little while since I drove a Mini Cooper S so I was looking forward to the Mini bounce that I've always loved and my wife despised. Somewhere along the way, that bounce has faded somewhat, to the point where my wife says she doesn't mind it anymore. That must be a good thing, because while the ride is more refined, it's still a blast to drive, even if you're just getting around in traffic.

The Mini just loves point and squirt driving. The quick, well-weighted steering helps you swing the nose in and out of gaps and the handy slab of torque from the 2.0-litre ensures you stay out of trouble while doing it. The Mini also loves haring down a country road, the more secure-feeling ride belying its short wheelbase. The weight of the car probably helps keep things on the straight and narrow. It's pretty clever to make the car feel grown-up while also maintaining its sense of playfulness.

The driving mode switch doesn't make a huge amount of difference, with Sport mode adding a few apologetic pops from the exhaust.

Complaints are few, but there are too many buttons on the steering wheel and to my mind are all in the wrong place. By necessity, the controller for the media screen is practically on the floor and is crowded in by the cupholders and huge handbrake lever. But that doesn't mean Mini should take away the handbrake.

I have my reasons.

Like the rest of the range, the 60 Years has six airbags, ABS, stability and traction controls, forward collision warning, AEB (auto emergency braking), a reversing camera, speed sign recognition, and tyre pressure monitoring (it also has run-flat tyres and no spare, so that's an important consideration).

There are two top tether and ISOFIX points for the kiddies.

The Mini scored four out of a possible five ANCAP stars in April 2015. This was before AEB became standard earlier in 2019.

It’s an interesting ownership proposition, because the car is covered for three years or 150,000km, which is underwhelming and then some compared to the warranty offerings of its competition, but there is capped-price servicing, at $300 per visit, required every 12 months or 15,000km, which lasts 10 years.

The battery is covered for eight years or 160,000km.

As with parent company BMW, Mini only offers a three-year/unlimited kilometre warranty with roadside assist for the duration. You can buy an extension to five or hold your breath during negotiations with a dealer.

Servicing is condition-based - the car will tell you when it needs one. You can buy a servicing package that covers the basics for five years for about $1400 or step up to the near-$4000 option which throws in consumables like brake pads and wiper blades.