Audi A3 vs Mercedes-Benz SL-Class

What's the difference?

Closing in on $60,000 for a small car isn’t cheap. Ask a car dealer and they might even say the hatchback is a good way to get someone into a showroom to eventually look at an SUV.

But I reckon you’d be doing the A3 a disservice to count it out. It’s always been one of those cars that does everything well, and with this current facelift manages to keep its practicality without becoming boring.

It looks good on the outside, it’s smart on the inside and it’s fun to drive while remaining sensible. Even if you get it in bright yellow.

The SL's overall score is somewhat skewed by everyday concerns, and rules are rules - an average punter will find the price of this car somewhat confusing and the devil-may-care attitude to fuel consumption bewildering.

If neither of these things are a problem, then the SL63 makes plenty of - well, not sense, because it's not a particularly clever or considered car - but it fills a niche that not so long ago we all thought would go the way of the dodo.

The fact it sells so few examples is betrayed by some of the cabin amenities and the fact that Mercedes hasn't put much effort into reducing the car's weight to improve its consumption or sharpen up the handling.

The fact it still exists at all is pretty damn cool, though, and for certain people an SL63 purchase is the culmination of a lot of hard work.

If it is your dream car, the SL63 won't disappoint. Everyone who rode with me said it was mightily impressive, but you've got to really want it. When you're not far off buying a Ferrari California T or Aston Martin V12 Vantage S for the money, you'll need a real yearning for the three-pointed star to go this way. And if you do, good luck to you - you've probably worked quite hard to get here.

Eye of the beholder and all that, sure, but the A3 looks cool from the outside. It’s got this angular design but manages it without being too aggressive or busy with other design elements, so it still has a ‘premium Euro’ feel to it.

Shooting pics of the car for this review, the harsh light accentuated its sharp lines. It looks sculptural rather than just some little blob. 

At the same time, thanks to the proliferation of sports design packs like the S Line, The A3 looks like it could be an S3, almost. Which makes sense, because the front bumper and rear diffuser as well as the roof spoiler are all partly inspired by RS models.

New for the A3 is the flat, 2D Audi badge, the model name on the B pillar and the new font for its name on the tailgate. 

The lights in the cluster are able to look narrower than before thanks to their customisable settings, which allow you to choose the light signature, while the grille has a flatter appearance and the air intakes are bigger. Even the wheels look like they’re from a sports car.

Whether you’d have the A3 in the Python Yellow of our test car is another thing. I don’t mind a loud colour but I reckon a bit of 'District Green', 'Ascari Blue' or 'Progressive Red' would be the vibe.

Also, any colour that isn’t white is a cost-option on the A3, all of them coming in at $1350, except Ascari Blue which is an Audi Sport colour and costs $1850.

Speaking of the vibe, inside the A3 feels properly nice. It’s not just a spruced up Golf in there. There’s proper Audi character to the car, though that means plenty of piano black trim to get smudgy.

Audi’s done a good job making the layout look sleek without resorting to locating all the controls in the screen. There are design elements in the cabin that aren't strictly necessary but are worth doing for the way they look.

Things like the way the vents flank the driver display or the trim inlay on the passenger side of the dash.

The SL has always been completely unapologetic about its size and seems to be designed to accentuate rather than hide its length and width. The long bonnet screams power and prestige, and get out of my way, and is reminiscent of the little-loved McLaren SLR project of some years ago.

The size of the Mercedes logo on the huge front grille leaves you in little doubt about the brand of car that’s about to pass you at speed and some might say (okay, I would) that its large surface area is a little vulgar.

Like the SLR, the design doesn't seem to have a particularly cohesive strategy, with a number of Mercedes elements from around the traps that climb over each other. Roof up it looks awkward because of the gigantic posterior while with the roof down it looks overly long and, again, tail-heavy.

Folding hardtops are notoriously cumbersome and need a lot of room to hide them, but the silent operation is something to behold.

Elements that are worth deleting if possible are the dodgy 'Biturbo' badges. It's that kind of bling that gets people raising their little finger at you.

Starting from what’s right in front of you as a driver, the steering wheel is the same as in bigger, more expensive Audis. That’s a good thing, because it’s nice to hold, has a good shape for the nine-and-three hand position and it’s not too thick. 

As well as the nice, clear buttons on the wheel, you’ve got some physical controls for the climate control and some of the vehicle functions like parking assist and stop-start under the multimedia screen.

For a car this size, the 10.1-inch central touchscreen is plenty big enough, and the fact it doesn't sit up high over the dash is great. It's like a perfect arm's length for your standard-sized adult (like me). I can reach the other side of the screen without needing to lean.

The fact there’s no head-up display is a bit of a let-down, but the now-standard 12.3-inch driver display is very good. It’s configurable yet clear, and means you can get detailed navigation information in front of you rather than having to look to the multimedia screen. 

The test A3 has genuine leather upholstery, which is $1100 extra. Not the most you’d pay for leather seats in a Euro, and the seats are comfortable. They're nicely bolstered, the drivers’ side is electrically adjustable and the leather doesn’t feel hard or rough to the touch.

Sitting behind my own seating position in the second row is a little tight, however. At 178cm, my knees almost touch the seat in front. There's also no sunroof, and even though there's just about enough light, that omission doesn’t help the cramped feeling.

There are, like the front, two USB-C ports and the air vents in the back, the latter separately adjustable to avoid arguments, though the cupholders in the armrest are in an awkwardly central position.

Behind that, under the 380-litre boot's floor is a space-saver spare tyre. That's better than some SUVs designed for family adventures that only offer up an inflator/repair kit. Keep that up, Audi. Good job. Well done. 

If you fold the rear seats, you get 1200 litres of space. Interestingly, those luggage space figures are the same as the BMW 1 Series.

“Practicality” is about as relevant to this car as a code of ethics is to a drug dealer or a contract killer, because the SL63 buyer is hardly worried about cupholders and boot space. For what it's worth, there are four cupholders in the two-seater cabin (which might explain why owners aren't worried about their liquid carrying prospects) and a minimum boot space of 364 litres and a maximum - with roof up - of 504, which is actually not bad.

Cleverly, there's a little robot-operated luggage cover inside the deep boot that stops your gear from being crushed when the roof goes down.

There's also space in the long doors where you might secrete a bottle of wine that would get a NSW Premier fired if he thanks you for it, and a bin in the console to hide your phone.

It’s difficult to ponder the idea of value when a car is already approaching $400,000 at a rapid rate even before you start piling on the options. On the plus side, for a list price of $368,715 you do get an extremely long list of standard equipment.

The SL has always been completely unapologetic about its size.

Edited highlights include leather on almost every available surface, heated and cooled electric seats with a fan heater for your neck, a B&O stereo that will shatter the windscreen on request, aluminium trim that's real aluminium (mostly), Active Ride suspension, sat nav, dual-zone climate control, active cruise, LED headlights and a huge swag of safety gear.

The 12-speaker stereo also has DVD, limited smartphone integration via Mercedes' COMAND system, a seven-inch screen and, of course, Bluetooth.

The A3 is powered by a 1.5-litre, turbocharged four-cylinder petrol engine that makes 110kW and 250Nm.

It drives the front wheels via a seven-speed dual-clutch auto transmission and it can hit 100km/h in a claimed 8.1 seconds.

It’s also got a 48-volt mild hybrid system to help with efficiency, though you’d need to be told about it to notice. It also helps with the A3’s (smooth) stop-start system.

The SL63 is powered by Mercedes’ increasingly famous V8, with two turbos along for the ride to add oomph and cut the car's famous consumption, at least slightly. The 5.5-litre unit produces a massive 430kW and a scarcely believable 900Nm of torque.

All of that heads rearward via a seven-speed dual-clutch transmission that helps sling the 4.6m, 1848kg machine to 100km/h in 4.1 seconds.

The A3’s 50-litre fuel tank needs to be filled with RON 95 premium fuel and it’ll drink a claimed 5.3-litres per 100km on the combined (urban/extra-urban) cycle.

Theoretically you’re topping 900km a tank there, but given how fun this car is to drive you’d have to be well behaved to get even close.

For reference, whenever I was on a normal, day-to-day drive on test the A3's trip computer was returning figures in the mid to high sixes.

Much as is the case with the price, there's no real way to soften the blow here - the SL63 drinks like a footballer on Mad Monday, except it does it every day. The official combined cycle figure of 10.2L/100km is quite easy to double, as we did, averaging 21L/100km in mostly flowing suburban traffic. In the car’s defence, the accelerator pedal spent a good deal of time near the firewall.

The SL does have stop-start to help reduce its considerable environmental impact.

First things first, the A3’s exterior and S Line pack are a clue to the way the car drives. It’s probably not the perfect car if you like a cushy, soft ride. 

Its suspension errs towards the stiffer side of things, and certain bumps can feel more significant than they need to. But even on particularly bad roads or tram tracks in the city the dampers do a decent job of soaking up the harsh stuff.

It also means there’s more road noise than you’d like on some older highway surfaces, but only in a way that might get annoying if you’re on a road trip with the stereo off for some reason.

The upside of that is its steering feels well weighted and accurate. Plus, the way it handles and corners feels like a bit more grunt would make this a proper driver's car.

It’s not too intense, and there’s enough feedback to make it feel like the A3 shouldn't be a city-dweller only when it comes to driving.

Of course, it’s a hatchback, so you've got the advantages that come with less weight and a lower centre of gravity. 

It doesn’t have enough weight to push into understeer more than you’d like on a tight corner. But it also doesn’t feel so light that you’re not sure how it’s going to behave under sharp braking.

The A3’s drivetrain, despite looking underwhelming on paper, feels practical on the road. Sure, 110kW isn't anything wicked, but its 250Nm feel like they’re working in the right places - that being between 1500 and 3500rpm. 

It isn't blisteringly quick but even with the seven-speed transmission operating in default auto mode it usually feels like it's in the right place, let alone chipping in with 'manual' shifts via the paddles or shifting drive modes. The A3 has a choice of 'Normal' and 'Sport' shift settings.

You might be a little disappointed if you thought you’d be getting anything approaching a hot hatch, but for an entry-level model the A3 more than holds its own. It’s a solid platform that performs well without compromising too much when it comes to daily driving ability.

There are a number of impressive things about the way the SL drives. Firstly, astronauts will be familiar with the galactic thrust of the V8. It seems endless, seamless and ready to sling the big coupe into the outer atmosphere. Few engines of any kind can match the relentless go on offer in the SL and much of the credit should go to the seven-speed twin-clutch transmission.

When you jump on the brakes and shift down, the exhaust keeps the show going with angry crackles and pops.

Containing a torque figure like the twin-turbo V8's requires a lot of electro-trickery to stop you from being launched off the road. The great thing about all that stuff is that it works unobtrusively and smoothly.

Mashing the carpet in an SL without traction control would create much sound and smoke but little forward progress, such is the twist on tap. The SL has a range of modes from full-nanny (which is meant to keep you on the slippery Alpine road you've chosen to get you to some Swiss ski resort) while turning the dial all the way around to Race loosens the bonds.

It's in this mode you'll have the most fun and it does seem that the intermediate settings are a bit of a waste of time. Race mode does little to diminish the amazing ride quality provided by the active suspension setup, but relaxes the reins on the huge rear tyres. Exiting roundabouts is suddenly a huge laugh, with the tail cheerfully breaking traction and the two-mode exhaust thundering in a most pleasant way.

Better still is that when you jump on the brakes and shift down, the exhaust keeps the show going with angry crackles and pops, with more on the way when you lift off. There's little to match the aural pleasures of a properly tuned V8 and Mercedes has resisted the temptation to quieten it down on the outside and generate a fake noise for the inside. Although that would be stupid in a convertible, if you think about it.

The SL63, despite its AMG badge, isn't about all-out handling, of course. The Ferrari California would definitely show it how it’s done on a winding country road. The SL is more about flow, building momentum and rarely shifting down to second gear. The monstrous torque is enough to keep things rolling but should you wish for a bit more of the exhaust bellow, second is there for the taking.

Hustling the big convertible feels wrong, not because it can't do it, but because it's not really what it's for. Having said that, it offers a kind of fun that nothing else on Earth will provide, not even a Bentley GTC.

With the roof up, the SL63 is a quiet place but not remarkably so. The huge sticky tyres do the cabin's hush no favours, with an annoying roar on a wider range of surfaces than you might expect.

Roof down, it's hardly a paragon of virtue. A lot of wind noise reaches the cabin, even well below the huge speeds the SL can reach. So if you want to talk, it's windows up you'll need to deploy the mesh screen that bridges the roll hoops.

Six airbags, ABS, stability and traction controls, blind-spot sensor, lane-departure warning, brake assist, active safety bonnet, lane-keep assist, driver attention detection, AEB.

Audi offers a five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty, which is about par for a premium brand, but it also offers five years' free roadside assist and the ability to pay to extend the warranty.

Servicing is $2520 for a five year plan, but the extended two years of 'Audi Advantage' warranty is $3250 and comes with unlimited kilometres, roadside assist and covers two services.

The SL63 is covered by Mercedes' three-year/unlimited kilometre warranty. And, er, that's it.