Alpine A110 vs Mercedes-Benz X-Class

What's the difference?

Don't let the overall score fool you. The Alpine A110 is an instant classic. While practicality, safety and ownership costs don't set the world on fire, it delivers a driving experience that makes everything right with the world every time you get behind the wheel.

The X was an opportunistic shot at a market segment new to Benz. With even apprentices able to afford to buy a well-specced Hilux, it's become harder to separate the foreman from the kids. I, like Mercedes, thought this would be the boss's car. Mercedes saw the gap and went for it, thinking it could grab sales from top end utes from VW, Toyota and Ford, while maybe saving a few folks from buying a RAM or an F150.

The problem is, the target market knows its utes. And in a rough-and-tumble workplace, the perception is that if you've spent up big on this Merc, you've actually just paid too much for a Nissan Navara. Still, like those flawed movies I enjoy, the X-Class is a fine thing - and I don't blame Mercedes for trying. It just costs too much, and yet isn't Mercedes enough to justify that price.

The final example of the original Alpine A110 rolled out of the Dieppe plant in 1977, and despite more than four decades separating it from this newcomer, the 2019 A110 is effectively a new-generation version.

Much more than a tip of the hat to a special predecessor, the new A110 perfectly updates the distinctive, purposeful look of its not-so-ancient ancestor.

In fact, head of the A110 design team, Antony Villain says, "We wondered; if the A110 never went away, if this new car was the sixth or seventh generation A110, what would it look like?"

Appropriately finished in a very French shade of 'Alpine Blue', our test example was one of 60 'Australian Premiere Edition' cars, and the design is full of intriguing details.

At just under 4.2m long, 1.8m wide, and only a touch over 1.2m high the two-seat A110 is compact to say the least.

It's raked LED headlights and round fog lights are recessed into the markedly curved nose in a complete and unabashed reload, with circular LED DRLs accentuating the throwback effect.

The overall look of the carefully scalloped bonnet is also familiar, with a huge under-bumper grille and side ducts creating an air curtain along the front wheel wells to finish off the treatment with a focused, technical touch.

A steeply raked windscreen runs up to a small turret with a broad channel running down its entre, and the flanks are narrowed by a lengthy, aero-influenced indent.

A case study in tightly wrapped surfacing, the rear-end is equally taut, with elements like 'X-shaped' LED tail-lights, tightly curved rear screen, single central exhaust outlet and aggressive diffuser continuing the expressive design theme.

Aero efficiency is a major influence, and as well as the diffuser careful inspection of the rear side window reveals a neat duct at its trailing-edge funnelling air to the mid/rear-mounted engine, and the underbody is smoothed near flat. An overall drag co-efficient of 0.32 is impressive for such a small car.

The A110 also proudly wears its French heart on its sleeve, with an enamel version of Le Tricolore attached to the C-pillar (and various points around the interior).

Eighteen-inch Otto Fuchs forged alloy rims fit the car's style and proportions perfectly with body-colour matching blue brake calipers poking through the delicate split-spoke design.

The interior is all business with racy Sabelt one-piece bucket seats setting the tone. Trimmed in a combination of quilted leather and microfibre (which extends to the doors) they are separated by a floating, flying buttress-style console housing key controls above and a storage tray (including multi-media inputs) below.

Highlights include cool body-colour panels in the doors, a Ferrari-like push-button gear selection set-up, slender alloy manual shift paddles attached to the steering column (not the wheel), matt carbon-fibre accents on the console and around the circular air vents, and a 10.0-inch TFT digital instrument cluster (which morphs to suit Normal, Sport or Track modes).

The A110's chassis and body are made from aluminium, with a brushed form of that material adorning everything from the pedals and perforated passenger footrest to multiple dash trim pieces.

Quality and attention to detail is outstanding to the point that just getting in the car feels like a special occasion. Every time.

Despite being a Japanese ute in drag, the X-Class isn't immediately rumbled as resembling a Nissan, which certainly should count in its favour. Everyone who asked about it had little idea it wasn't a Daimler from the ground up, until you pointed out various details. Up here in the higher reaches, it's a really quality-looking thing, with beautiful paint and enough differentiation to make it look like a Merc. The headlights do seem a tad small next to the rest of the Mercedes range, but the whopping great three-pointed star in the grille leaves no one in doubt. 

It's fairly tasteful in silver, too, and with a few carefully chosen options it looks pretty tough.

Once you're inside you see where it starts to get confused about itself. The hard, scratchy plastic dash pokes out from behind a huge slab of metallic trim. The centre console is clearly a brother from another mother, as is the overall dash layout. The cabin lacks the thoughtfulness and quality of a Mercedes design - you can't just slap on those signature air vents and expect to get away with it. Every piece that comes from Mercedes appears glued on, and it's jarring. 

This might have been less of an issue if the car was significantly cheaper and not likely to be purchased by people who are familiar with the brand.

Practicality is the oil to a two-seat sports car's water. If you want day-to-day functionality, look elsewhere. Quite rightly, the Alpine A110 puts driver engagement at the top of the priority list.

That said, with limited real estate to work with the car's development team has made it liveable, with a surprising amount of boot space included, and modest storage options snuck in around the cabin.

The heavily-bolstered, high-sided sports seats, necessitate use of the 'one hand on the A-pillar and swing in/out' technique for entry and exit, which won't suit everyone. And once inside several things are missing.

Glove box? No. If you need to refer to the owner's manual or grab the service book, they're housed in a small satchel attached to the bulkhead behind the driver's seat.

Door pockets? Forget it. Cupholders? Well, there's one, it's tiny, and located between the seats where only a double-joined circus contortionist could reach it.

There is a long storage bin under the centre console, which is helpful, although it's hard to reach in and actually extract things placed in it. Media inputs run to two USBs, an 'aux-in' and an SD card slot, but their location at the front of that lower storage area is tricky, and there's a 12-volt outlet just in front of the unreachable cupholder.

However, if you and a passenger want to head off on a weekend road trip, amazingly, you can take some luggage with you. With the engine located between the axles there's room for a 96-litre boot at the front and a 100-litre boot at the rear.

We managed to fit the middle (68-litre) hard suitcase from our three-piece set (35, 68 and 105 litres) in the broad but relatively shallow front boot, while the wider, deeper, but shorter rear boot is best for soft bags.

Another missing item is a spare tyre, with a neatly packaged repair/inflator kit your only option in the case of a puncture.

I really can't imagine how anyone signed off on the most annoying features of the X. Front-seat passengers get a solitary, shallow cupholder (the second one is unusable), and big door bins that could hold a bottle if you didn't mind it getting smashed from sliding around (they're unlined), and nowhere to put your phone. Like, nowhere, except maybe the glove box. Even the centre console bin is shallow and not much good for anything, apart from as an armrest.

The front seats are reasonably comfortable but the rears are way too high (in the name of a better view) and rammed hard against the rear bulkhead. The rear doors are also pretty narrow, so entry and egress can be a bit of a challenge if you're large or toddler small. Once you're in the seats, legroom is limited and headroom marginal. At least you get air-conditioning vents, but you don't get an armrest in the rear. On a nearly $80,000 ute. Even the dark-ages Colorado has one of those.

Anyway, that's enough said about the interior flaws.

The tray is a big boy, but it's worth knowing that the roller cover does rob a bit of space, as it does on any ute. The optional tray liner looks good and with Mercedes-Benz stamped in it, reminds you again what you've got. All told, it's 1581mm long, 1560mm wide (1215mm between the wheelarches) and you can load up nearly a tonne of people and things into the X350. You can also tow a massive 3500kg braked and still be able to carry a payload of 490kg. Gross vehicle mass is 3250kg (tare is 2190kg).

The X-Class range starts at the $45,450 X220D manual dual-cab and reaches all the way to the $87,500 X350d Edition 1. One step back from that is the $79,415 X350d Power dual-cab with all-wheel drive. That nets you 19-inch alloy wheels, an eight-speaker stereo, climate control, around view camera, reversing camera, keyless entry and start, front and rear parking sensors, electric front seats, sat nav, auto LED headlights, fake-leather interior, heated and folding rear vision mirrors, power windows and a full-size alloy spare.

An 8.0-inch screen hosts Mercedes COMAND system, complete with rotary dial and the weird scratchpad. COMAND is not as good as its German rivals and for some reason doesn't have Apple CarPlay and/or Android Auto, which is a mammoth oversight for a car of this type and cost.

Our car also had the lockable roll cover for $3295, the $1551 styling bar, a tow bar ($836) and, presumably, tow-bar wiring ($462).

The Alpine A110's (M5P) all-alloy 1.8-litre turbo-petrol four-cylinder engine is closely related to the unit found under the bonnet of the Renault Megane R.S.

Alpine has modified the intake manifold, exhaust and overall calibration, but the big difference here is that although it's still transversely mounted, in the Alpine the engine sits in a mid/rear position and drives the rear wheels (rather than in the R.S.'s nose driving the fronts).

Featuring direct injection and a single turbo it produces 185kW at 6000rpm, and 320Nm of torque from 2000-5000rpm, compared to 205kW/390Nm in the Megane R.S. But the Alpine's 356kg weight advantage means it boasts a 169kW/tonne power-to-weight ratio, while the Megane sits at 141kW/tonne.

Drive goes to a Getrag-sourced seven-speed (wet) dual-clutch auto transmission, with Alpine-specific ratios inside.

The X350d has something very Mercedes about it - the engine and transmission package. With 3.5-litres of turbo-diesel V6, you get 190kW at 3400rpm and a thumping 550Nm between 1400 and 3200rpm. These kind of figures at least put it up there with the brawnier VW Amarok.

Feeding the power to all four wheels is Mercedes' own seven-speed automatic. A centre diff apportions power front to rear and you have a choice of three modes - automatic, high range and low-range.

Claimed fuel economy for the combined (ADR 81/02 - urban, extra-urban) cycle is 6.2L/100km, the 1.8-litre four emitting 137g/km of CO2 in the process.

Over close to 400km worth of often 'enthusiastic' driving, taking in city, suburban and freeway running we recorded an average of 9.6L/100km.

Definitely a miss, but not bad when you consider we hit the off switch for the standard stop-start system on a consistent basis and regularly took advantage of the accelerator pedal's ability to move towards the floor.

Minimum fuel requirement is 95 RON premium unleaded, and you'll need just 45 litres of it to fill the tank.

The X350d did pretty well in the week I had it - the official figure of 8.8L/100km was never going to happen but with a long motorway run to the Blue Mountains and the rest bashing about town, the 10.5L/100km I did achieve without trying was not bad at all. The 80-litre tank should give you a decent range of 750km, or thereabouts.

Weighing at just 1094kg (target weight was 1100kg), with a 44:56 front-to-rear weight distribution, the all-aluminium A110 is every millimetre the mini-supercar you'd hope it to be.

It only takes two to three rotations of the Alpine's wheels to realise it's exceptional. The Sabelt seat is superb, the chunky steering wheel perfect, and the engine instantly eager to get on with it.

The electro-mechanical power-assisted steering feels just right from the first corner. The rack is quick and road feel is intimate without the crashy feedback penalty paid by the Alfa 4C.

Engage launch control and you're blasting from 0-100km/h 4.5sec, with the engine adding a suitably raucous backing track, a full charge of air rasping through the inlet manifold just behind your ears. Spinning up to the close to 7000rpm rev ceiling is pure pleasure, with peak torque available from just 2000rpm all the way to five grand.

Pressing the wheel-mounted 'Sport' button sharpens gearshifts and holds low ratios for longer, with the already slick dual-clutch really getting its race face on. Hold in the down lever in manual mode and the transmission will instantly shift through to the lowest gear engine revs will allow, the Active-valve sports exhaust chipping in with rude pops and bangs on the over-run. 'Track' mode is even more hardcore, allowing a greater element of slip in cornering. Brilliant.

The engine's mid/rear location delivers a low roll-centre and the double wishbone suspension set-up (front and rear) manages to combine super-sharp dynamic response with a surprisingly civilised ride.

Alpine says the A110's light weight and ultra-rigid chassis mean its coil springs can be reasonably soft and anti-roll bars light so even our truly ordinary urban blacktop doesn't cause too much distress.

The A110 is beautifully balanced, amazingly agile, and satisfyingly precise. Weight transfer in quick cornering is managed to perfection, the car remaining stable, predictable and hugely entertaining.

Grip from the Michelin Pilot Sport 4 rubber (205/40 fr - 235/40 rr) is tenacious, and the torque vectoring system (by braking) quietly keeps things pointing in the right direction if an over-zealous pilot begins to overstep the mark.

Despite the A110's modest kerb weight braking is professional grade. Brembo provides ventilated 320mm rotors (front and rear) with four-piston alloy calipers at the front and single-piston floating calipers at the rear. They're progressive, powerful and consistent.

The only downsides are a clumsy multimedia interface, and the annoying lack of a reversing camera. But who cares, this car is amazing.

One of the weirder things to make it into the X-Class is the world's second most irritating column stalk, which is asked to pack in indicators, headlights and wipers. Thankfully, the world's most irritating column stalk, the Mercedes automatic shifter, wasn't inflicted on the X-Class. But the obvious problem is the key, which clearly isn't a Mercedes unit - even the star is ill-fitting and will probably fall off after a while. This is not a premium experience.

Thankfully, the big turbo-diesel wipes away a lot of the complaints about this car not being Mercedes enough. Brawny and super quiet (twin balance shafts will do that), the X is a very easy car to live with. While not especially lively, it's easygoing in the city and very refined.

On the open road it cruises almost silently and the ride is way above what you might expect from an unloaded tradie-mobile. It doesn't feel as high as some utes, which makes it feel a bit more car-like, and will no doubt appeal to some who might have to swap in and out of a traditional SUV and into the X, for whatever reason.

It is by far the most civilised ute I've ever driven and was worlds away from the Colorado I drove last week, to the point where I could almost - almost - see a justification for the unbelievably hefty price tag.

Credit for the refined ride and handling goes to the coil-spring rear end, much maligned in some quarters. While that style of suspension is not the ultimate in load-lugging, it's way more comfortable for passengers and, given the likely buyer profile, probably more agreeable than a cart-sprung rear-end.

I would cheerfully drive long distances in the X and it feels like it could go anywhere.

The Mercedes-Benz finally starts to puts its nose ahead of its competitors on the safety front.

The X350d has seven airbags, ABS, stability and traction controls, forward collision warning, low speed forward AEB, pedestrian detection, lane-keep assist and around-view cameras, trailer-sway control and hill-descent control.

It also has three top-tether and two ISOFIX points.

Its five-star ANCAP safety rating was awarded in 2017.

The Alpine A10 is covered by a three-year/100,000km warranty with a twist. According to Alpine, the first two years are covered for unlimited kilometres. And if at the end of the second year total kilometres remain less than 100,000, the warranty continues into a third year (still to an overall cap of 100,000km).

So, you can sail over the 100,000km mark in the warranty's first two years, but that means you won't get a third.

Complimentary roadside-assist is provided for 12 months, continuing for up to four years if your Alpine is regularly serviced at an authorised dealer.

There are currently three dealers only – one each in Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane – and service is recommended every 12 months/20,000km, with the first two costing $530 each, and the third ramping up to $1280.

You'll also need to factor in a pollen filter ($89) at two years/20,000km and accessory belt replacement ($319) at four years/60,000km.

Mercedes offers a three year/200,000km warranty for the X, which isn't too bad. It also throws in roadside assist for the duration. Also worthy are the 12 month/20,000km service intervals. 

A basic capped-price service scheme will hit you for $1950 (pre-paid) or $2,555 if you pay when you front up for each of the three services covered. The servicing isn't super-cheap, as you can see, but at least you know what you're up for.