Chery C5 vs MG Cyberster

What's the difference?

Can a new name, fresh face and suspension update save Chery’s sleek SUV coupe from the ignominy of being one of the least pleasant options in its ultra-competitive class?

Sadly, not enough has been done for us to recommend the new C5.

As an affordable, stylish, roomy and zoomy SUV, the Chery definitely provides showroom appeal, especially given the decent warranty.

But, with lots of little niggles still present to distract and frustrate, the C5 is far from A1. Plus, with prices now creeping up, it doesn’t even have the cheap pricing of the old Omoda 5 to get it over the line.

Heading into 2026, Chery still needs to do better than this.

The Cyberster is certainly an impressive thing in a lot of ways, but if you were expecting a perfect sports car from MG, you'll be a bit disappointed. 

It's quite expensive if you're looking for a nice EV, but on the flip side it's quite cheap if being fast is your main concern.

If anything, the Cyberster is an exciting look at what the brand is capable of, even if it's a bit rough around the edges.

The new and narrower nose treatment is better, banishing the Omoda 5’s insectoid face straight into the bin. As an example of coupe-SUV design, the unaltered silhouette remains contemporary and is a defining signature for the series.

But, as before, the C5’s styling is hobbled by its narrow-gutted track width and highish (at 184mm) ground clearance, that give it a muffin-top and tippy-toed appearance respectively from most angles. Flashbacks to a Holden VN Commodore. Stance be damned.

Let’s look at the newcomer’s dimensions, compared to the Tiggo 4 for perspective: length is 4351mm (plus 44mm), width is 1831mm (+6mm), height is 1662mm (+2mm) and wheelbase is identical at 2610mm.

Still, there’s a positively Pollyanna-esque perspective to be gained here as well, since the C5’s extra size translates to a biggish small SUV inside a cabin that seems stylishly minimalistic. Or fairly basic. It all depends on your point of view.

Let’s take a closer look.

MG reckons the Cyberster draws on the proportions of classic roadsters like its MG A and B from the ‘50s and ‘60s.

And I reckon that’s about where the comparison ends, really.

But don’t get me wrong, I think it’s got some pretty angles and nice elements.

It’s got the long bonnet, but its cabin isn't set so far back and its aerodynamic lines and curves probably weren't a priority back then either.

This is the standard colour, English White, which is more like off-white or cream or beige.

You can have a red roof on the lighter colours, white, silver, and grey, but red and yellow Cybersters have black ones.

The tail-lights at the back were inspired by the union jack, but they’re probably one of the elements on this car I'd put in the ‘tacky’ column.

Three things struck me the moment I stepped inside the C5.

Firstly, though the silhouette suggests a low-slung car, the tall stance means getting in and out isn’t a drama at all, with the seats being up high enough for this to deserve its SUV/crossover status.

Secondly, the Chery emits a somewhat repellent plastic off-gas odour, a bit like a cheap toy. The smell never goes away. Perhaps it was just our test car? Unlikely though, as it reminds me of pre-2000s Kias and Hyundais.

And in stark contrast, thirdly, there’s an arresting elegance to the dashboard’s minimalist layout and presentation. Nothing’s changed visually and nothing needed to.

Let’s concentrate on the many positive points first.

There’s plenty of space around you for a comparatively small and narrow SUV, including ample legroom and head room for your 178cm tester front and back. It doesn't feel cramped at all.

Finding the ideal driving position is easy, with most of the (available) switches and controls where you’d need them to be without having to stretch to reach. Helping things out here is an adjustable steering wheel for rake as well as reach. Unlike in an MG ZS.

The dash layout looks great, given that this car is of a 2022 vintage, with the large, twin 10.25-inch integrated displays for both the electronic instrumentation and the multimedia system seamlessly presented. Both are fairly clear and easy to work out and operate. And, despite being an older-generation vehicle (it’s now well into year four of production), the instruments still look fresh.

And though the C5 runs a software-based operating system for vehicle functions, climate, audio, multimedia and other settings, the few buttons provided are well integrated and mostly work logically.

Below the touchscreen is a row of haptic switches for the main heating and cooling elements, meaning just one touch is necessary and with no complicated and time-consuming sub-menus to navigate. That's good.

You do need to dive into sub-menus for some drive settings and modes, though, and that's disappointing, but at least the C5’s is not as complicated as some others we’ve experienced of late.

Other plus points include excellent ventilation and loads of storage, including a big old glovebox, a cavernous centre console bin, a vast lower area to hide things on, deep cupholders and a ‘wall’ to lean two phones or a tablet while still being visible for the driver to glance at, with one side providing wireless charging on the Ultimate grade.

Along with pleasant cloth seats that are surprisingly comfortable, all show a reassuring degree of thoughtfulness.

Additionally, the poor side and rear vision is at least aided by large side mirrors and a crisp reverse-camera views.

However, there are some serious downsides too, starting with the C5’s aforementioned phone/tablet wall. The rubber backing in our test car was misshapen and dog-eared, undermining the otherwise exemplary build quality.

Until you learn its weird ways, the gear shifter can be unfathomable. It looks like it would operate as per a regular T-bar, but pressing the side button to engage Drive or Reverse instead locks them out, meaning the uninitiated will inevitably find themselves panicking manoeuvring in traffic with impatient drivers wondering why a Chery is blocking the road during a cheeky three-point turn. Embarrassing and, yes, super frustrating.

In the Ultra at least, the lofty front passenger seat has no height adjustment. The digital radio did not work for the entire week we had the C5. Maybe it was just our car, but even in inner Melbourne, reception proved elusive.

And the touchscreen-based secondary climate settings that aren’t supported by physical buttons are a stretch away, including temperature adjustment, meaning these and other items are arranged for left-hand-drive access.

This means it is fiddly to operate, as concentration is not on the road ahead, resulting in the driver monitor sounding off, leading to more frustration. An unvirtuous circle of distraction ensues, highlighting the folly of software-based vehicle systems that have not been tailored to Australian road conditions. Fail.

But nothing is as aggravating as the Chery’s voice control system. Like we said earlier, when turned on, it mishears or misunderstands words to almost a comical degree… if it wasn’t so constantly intrusive. As with paranoid and/or trigger-happy ADAS warnings, you end up switching off such irritating tech. Which beggars the question: what is their point?

Moving to the back seat, things look up again, with sufficient space for most smaller families to settle into.

The bench is fine, offering adequate comfort for shorter journeys. Legroom is generous, helped out by room for boots to tuck underneath the front cushion. And most amenities are present for a base model car, including a folding armrest with two cupholders (again, unlike in an MG ZS), as well as one-touch electric windows, overhead grab handles, coat hooks, decent size door bins, a USB port and face level ventilation.

All those go towards making the C5 well-packaged, small family transport.

Further back, Chery has managed to liberate an extra 10 litres of cargo capacity compared to the old Omoda 5, so 360 litres is available – which is not bad for a small SUV. That rises to 1075L in two-seater mode.

It’s also a practical and easy boot to use, with a space saver spare wheel.

A three-screen dash sounds a little daunting at first, but it’s not that far from the giant screens in some new cars now.

The central 10.25-inch screen is info only, while the flanking 7.0-inch screens are touchscreens, as is the climate control screen in the console.

As much as I’m a fan of physical buttons where possible, this car shows that multiple screens means you don’t need many sub-menus.

Basically, this feels like a lot, but you get used to it relatively quickly.

And while it also seems like MG’s software has become more intuitive and less laggy, the placements of the screens is a little annoying - the side screens on the dash are blocked by the steering wheel, and the central touchscreen is a bit fiddly.

Like I mentioned, no wireless phone mirroring is a let-down and there’s not really an obvious place to put a phone, but the ability to level out the cup holders is kind of interesting and the central storage where the USB-A and C ports are is big enough.

There’s a narrow bit of storage behind the seats, but the boot is actually 249 litres and seems much more usable than you might expect.

It's also worth noting the Cyberster comes with an AC slow charging cable as standard, but not a DC fast-charging cable for plugging in at some charging stations.

The MG Cyberster finds itself here as the only electric convertible sports car on offer, which means it’s hard to compare its $115,000 price tag to any direct rivals.

The Kia EV6 GT and Hyundai Ioniq 5 N are the wrong shape, the Porsche Cayman has the wrong running gear and most other things with doors like this are a lot more expensive.

So what does $115,000, before on-road costs, get you?

It’s only available in one variant, with pretty much the only cost-option being paint colours.

Aside from the scissor doors, there’s the electric folding roof, triple-screen cockpit with another centre panel, an eight-speaker Bose sound system, heated electric seats and steering wheel, and ambient lighting.

The exterior lights are all automatic intelligent LEDs, and you can open the doors with the key fob.

It is, however, missing a couple of things.

No phone charger might be down to space, but no wireless phone mirroring is a bit annoying, and the manual steering wheel adjustment feels a little cheap in a six-figure EV.

The C5 is powered by a 1.5-litre four-cylinder turbo petrol engine, delivering 108kW of power at 5500rpm and 210Nm of torque from 1750-4000rpm.

As part of the MY25 facelift, the Chery swaps out the old Omoda 5’s CVT for a six-speed dual-clutch transmission, complete with a handy manual mode. It drives the front wheels only.

Tipping the scales at 1462kg (kerb), the C5 Ultra offers a power-to-weight ratio of 73.9kW/tonne – which is slightly less than, say, a Haval Jolion, but quite a bit behind a Mazda CX-3.

With a slight helping hand from a strong northerly wind, we managed to record a 0-100km/h sprint time of 9.9 seconds. This figure suggests the Chery feels faster than it is.

Okay, here’s where the Cyberster gets impressive.

Its dual-motor set-up combines a 150kW front motor and a 250kW rear motor for a total of 375kW.

Peak torque is a hefty 725Nm.

All that is enough to get you and two tonnes of MG from zero to 100km/h in 3.2 seconds.

Sure it tops out at 208km/h, but the rush of hitting highway speeds is already enough to put your licence at risk.

The C5’s combined average fuel consumption figure is 6.9L/100km, for a carbon dioxide emissions rating of 160 grams/km. And that’s on regular 91 RON standard unleaded. Topping the 51-litre petrol tank should result in nearly 740km of range between refills.

During our week with the Chery, we managed 9.0L/100km, which is very disappointing, though that did include highway and performance driving.

The MG Cyberster has a 77kWh battery and a claimed efficiency of 19.1kWh/100km.

While that means its claimed driving range of 443km relies on a bit of energy to be recuperated from braking, something you don’t really get on the highway, it actually works in the car’s favour during dynamic driving.

After 264km of driving on a test loop that included some urban but mostly highway and rural driving, the Cyberster’s trip computer displayed a 19.4kWh/100km average consumption.

The battery sat at 27 per cent, with 108km estimated range remaining.

While 443km of total range seems optimistic for a car that’s likely to be driven relatively quickly a lot of the time, the efficiency of the Cyberster held up better than you might have expected.

Chery has made some pretty fundamental changes underneath, so we had higher hopes of the C5 compared to the preceding Omoda 5. However, expectations ought to be tempered here.

Let’s begin with the Chinese SUV’s performance.

After a moment’s hesitation, the C5 feels punchy from the get-go, with a decent amount of muscle as the revs rise. Throttle response is brisk, even at higher speeds. And the brakes do a great job. This is quite the rapid little runabout.

Some of that initial lag is down to the dual-clutch transmission, since it needs time for the turbo to spool up. Once sorted, it shifts swiftly and smoothly, and without delay. Only the aforementioned gear selector complication will catch out new drivers, as the operation is needlessly complicated.

But the engine is never really quiet, and can even feel coarse when extended under hard acceleration, betraying this Chery’s station as a cheap SUV. And the stop/start tech is especially jerky.

The steering, meanwhile, is a mix of disgruntle and delight.

When driving on the motorway, it can feel lumpy, with the driver-assist system tugging away endlessly at the wheel. The sudden jolts make it feel like a pinball as the vehicle feels like it is ricocheting off the white lines. Such constant correction is both tiring and irritating, leading to fatigue and, if your fuse is really short, aggravation.

For steering smoothness or linearity, you need to dive into a sub menu and opt out of several ADAS modes. Or otherwise pull over and wonder why Chinese car companies especially seem to have such disdain for Australian drivers. If this sounds like a nightmare, the C5 is not for you.

Furthermore, there’s no point choosing a steering setting. Comfort is light enough for easy driving and weighty enough for the driver to feel in control, but feedback and feel are absent. And selecting Sport just adds needless heft and makes it all feel way too heavy.

Now, that said, the C5 offers some dynamic compensation, and likely courtesy of its multi-link suspension upgrade.

At higher speeds, the steering, for instance, is pleasingly direct and precise, meaning it turns exactly where you choose it to. The handling feels controlled and the tyres grip well, for some unintentional scrappy fun through really tight corners, to a certain extent anyway. It’s a side to the Chery the Omoda 5 never seemed capable of delivering.

But, inevitably, this comes at a price, and that is a busy and at times agitated ride, with the suspension failing to soak up bumps and irregularities on anything other than smooth roads, despite its new-found independence, adding to further fatigue. For the record, our test car rode on 215/60R17 Giti tyres.

Would higher-quality rubber help fix this? If you’re buying a sub-$30K Chery SUV, would you even care? Basically, unless you enjoy the occasional hoon, the C5 lacks dynamic sophistication as well as sufficient Australian road tuning. Much like its predecessor. Such a letdown.

There’s good news and bad news about the Cyberster from behind the wheel.

The good news is it’s quite easy to drive this thing very fast. 

The bad news is it feels like it would be quite easy to get sick of as a day-to-day car, depending on your situation.

The first thing I noticed is the seat feels a bit high, even at its lowest setting. That's likely due to the placement of the battery pack under the floor of of the car.

Following that, if you’re taller than me (I'm five foot 11), it feels like the wrong road surface will have you nudging your head into the roof liner.

That mechanical roof should take about 15 seconds to lower or raise, and that can be done at speeds up to 50km/h.

It could be a symptom of trying to keep 1985kg tied down, but some of Melbourne's highways and arterial roads between 70 and 100km/h had the Cyberster bobbing quite a bit.

But the suspension doesn't let individual bumps intrude too much into the cabin, so it’s not all bad.

Similarly, there’s good and bad when it comes to the steering and braking.

The first being that the steering seems pretty accurate, even though the feedback is a bit numb. 

The braking on the other hand is handled by some pretty capable Brembos up front that pull the heavy roadster up quickly, but don’t always clamp as hard as you might expect when approaching a traffic light at 60km/h.

But stopping’s one thing, and going’s another.

There are three main drive modes, Comfort, Sport, and Super Sport, which mainly alter the acceleration intensity. And they feel well calibrated.

Comfort keeps things calm and cruisy, Sport is plenty for the road, and Super Sport has the potential to draw the attention of the authorities.

There’s good adjustability when it comes to regen braking, and even a decent single-pedal driving mode.

Aside from a couple of particularly heinous roads, the Cyberster held mostly flat when cornering at high speeds, but the potential for its suspension to let its wheels lose their footing might - or should - stop you from pushing the MG too hard.

At high speeds, there’s a bit of wind noise that you really can’t complain about if you’ve just purchased a drop-top, but the noise, vibration and harshness is decent, all things considered.

My only gripe with the interior fit out is that the passenger seat wobbles a little, and rattles on the surface behind it before moving it forward.

It’s impressive what this car can do in terms of performance, it’s just a shame it’s not more playful.

The Cyberster hasn’t been tested by ANCAP but as a niche sports car, it may never get tested.

The good news is it rides on the same platform as the MG4, which has five stars.

It’s got frontal and side airbags, plus all the usual new-car tech like adaptive cruise, lane-keep assist, blind spot warnings, collision warnings and avoidance, and speed limit warnings.

The Cyberster’s active safety is actually mercifully restrained, giving a couple of relatively quiet dings when exceeding the limit before you turn it off, letting you do the steering even when lane-keep is on, and in my case, only giving me a driver attention alert when I yawned while at a red light.

Very competitive if not quite as class leading as the conditional Nissan, Mitsubishi and MG 10-year warranty, the C5 comes with a seven-year/unlimited kilometre warranty.

Chery also offers seven years/105,000km of capped-price servicing and a year’s free roadside assistance, though up to seven years is available should owners choose to have their vehicle maintained at an authorised dealer during that period.

Service intervals are at every 12 months or 10,000km, and cost $280 per visit for the first five, extending to nearly $370 and $290 for the final two.

MG has a 10-year/250,000km warranty that’s pretty impressive by industry standards, and the warranty also covers its EVs.

It’s important to note that the convertible roof is one of a few items (including 12-volt batteries and light bulbs) that MG covers for less than 10 years. In the case of the roof it’s only five.

It’s worth closely reading the fine print before you crack into buying a car, regardless.

There are also ten capped-price services which occur every 12 months or 25,000km, ranging from $246 to $785. The average price per service is $503.40.

MG also offers free roadside assist for the period of the warranty.