Chery C5 vs Toyota Landcruiser 70 Series

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.

Life is full of compromises and the 76 Series wagon is no exception. The payback for accepting its minimal cabin storage, comfort-challenged rear seat, no ANCAP, high purchase price, high servicing costs etc is that you get a genuinely heavy duty 4x4 wagon with huge GVM/GCM ratings unmatched by its ute-derived rivals.

The V8 manual or four-cylinder auto have different characteristics but similar competence, with the manual obviously requiring more physical effort, so it comes down to personal preference. And we’re sure, given its long history, there’s plenty of emotional attachment driving the bulging V8 order book. Either way, with its enormous fuel tank and revered off-road prowess, this rugged and dependable wagon has a proven ability to take you and your crew deep into the wilderness – and get you home again.

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.

The 76 Series wagon has the shortest wheelbase of the four-model 70 Series range at 2730mm, which makes it the most responsive to steering input.

It also has the shortest overall length (4910mm) and in GXL form the tightest turning circle (13.2 metres) which can make life easier in tight situations, from busy car parks to challenging bush tracks.

Off-road credentials include 33 degrees approach and 23 degrees departure angles, plus 290mm of ground clearance. Curiously, Toyota does not publish a ramp break-over angle.

The interior is B for basic, in true 70 Series tradition, with seat fabrics and colours reminiscent of circa-1990s Toyotas.

The most noticeable differences between the four-cylinder auto and V8 manual cabins are that the V8 version has an extra pedal and misses out on the auto’s full-length centre console, which offers additional and much-needed storage space.

There’s ample headroom but that generosity does not extend to rear seat comfort, at least for tall people like me (186cm).

The entry pathway between the B-pillar and rear seat base cushion is narrow and, when sitting behind the driver’s seat in my position, my knees are pressing into the front seat’s backrest.

So, it’s not possible for two big blokes to sit one behind the other without the ‘one’ behind feeling squished.

Fortunately, the 60/40-split rear seat allows adjustment of backrest angles and for those seated in the centre there’s a nice flat floor with no transmission tunnel to straddle. However, the centre passenger’s back/backside are directly over the 60/40 split, which is quite a wide gap (about 15mm) that's intolerable for anything longer than short trips.

Rear shoulder room for three adults is also squeezy, so keep these rear seat issues in mind if planning an adventure for five.

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.

Our GXL V8 test vehicle’s 2355kg kerb weight and 3510kg GVM results in a Herculean payload rating of 1155kg.

It’s also rated to tow up to 3500kg of braked trailer and with its towering 7010kg GCM (or how much it can carry and tow at the same time), that means it can tow its maximum trailer weight while carrying its maximum payload, which is impressive.

These substantial load ratings make the 76 Series a popular choice for hardcore adventurers that need to carry a crew and everything else (including the kitchen sink) when venturing far off the beaten track for extended periods.

The absence of a third row of seating creates a spacious rear load area, accessed through asymmetric barn-doors, the larger of which carries the spare wheel/tyre.

The rear seat backrests can fold flat to provide more load volume and their base cushions can tumble forward to create even more space. The GXL’s load floor is carpeted and equipped with four anchorage hooks for securing load straps or cargo nets.

Cabin storage for personal items is in short supply, as the driver and front passenger only get a narrow and shallow bin (more like a document holder) at the base of each door, with a small bottle/cupholder in the passenger side bin.

There’s also a glove box, single small-bottle/cupholder next to the gearstick and a tiny console box between the seats.

Rear passengers only get mesh pockets on the front seat backrests, as there are no bins or bottle/cupholders in the rear doors.

There’s also no fold-down centre armrest, so no bottle/cupholders to be found anywhere. We reckon aftermarket cabin organisers would be popular purchases by 76 Series owners!

The 76 Series wagon is available in work-focused Workmate grade, or premium GXL, as per our example. Equipped with the 4.5-litre turbo-diesel V8 and five-speed manual transmission, it has a list price of $83,900.

The GXL costs $8300 more than the Workmate V8 equivalent and for that extra spend you get an expanded menu of standard equipment including front and rear diff-locks, 16-inch alloy wheels and 265/70R16 tyres (with a full-size spare), wide front mudguards, wheel arch flares, LED front fog lights, aluminium side-steps and chrome bumpers.

Interior enhancements include keyless entry and central-locking, fabric seat and door trim, carpet flooring, power windows, front seat back-pockets, four-speaker audio and two USB-C ports (we’re surprised Toyota did not provide the usual choice of USB-A and USB-C ports).

These GXL features are in addition to standard equipment added as part of the recent 70 Series upgrade, including a redesigned front fascia with LED lighting including DRLs and auto high beam, 60/40-split rear seat (wagon only), multi-function steering wheel controls, a 4.2-inch driver’s multi-info display and upgraded multimedia with a 6.7-inch touchscreen display, digital radio and wired Apple and Android connectivity. Safety has also been upgraded with lane-keeping and speed sign recognition.

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.

Toyota’s (1VD-FTV) 4.5-litre turbo-diesel V8 produces 151kW at 3400rpm. More importantly, its 430Nm of torque is served at full strength across a vast 2000rpm-wide torque band between 1200-3200rpm. This showcases its remarkable flexibility for heavy load-carrying, towing and off-road slogging.

This engine is paired with the equally popular (H152F) five-speed manual transmission, which features an ultra-short first gear ideal for low-speed off-road driving or getting heavy loads moving. By comparison, the overdriven top gear provides long enough legs for economical cruising at highway speeds.

Its part-time, dual-range 4x4 transmission offers a 44:1 crawl ratio, combined with Toyota’s outstanding active traction control, automatic-locking front hubs and (standard on GXL) front and rear diff locks. This is a formidable off-roader.

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.

Toyota’s official average combined cycle consumption figure for the V8 manual is 10.7L/100km. The dash display was claiming 10.9 when we stopped to refuel at the completion of our 276km test, which comprised a mix of city, suburban, highway and dirt driving with a variety of occupant loads.

Interestingly, the dash readout was identical to our own 10.9 figure calculated from fuel bowser and tripmeter readings, which confirms the accuracy of the LandCruiser’s fuel calculations and the efficiency of its relatively large V8 in a vehicle weighing more than two tonnes in mostly urban driving.

So, based on our figures, it has a vast 'real world' driving range of more than 1100km from its huge 130-litre tank.

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.

The aluminium side-steps, along with handles on the A- (and B-) pillars, assist climbing aboard and all-around vision is good thanks to large glass areas, sizeable door mirrors and a reversing camera, although the rear seat headrests partly block vision through the central rear-view mirror.

It’s the best off-road driving position an adventurer could ask for, combining good comfort with a commanding view over the bonnet and out each side, which allows accurate vehicle placement in all terrain.

The ride quality is firm, as you’d expect in a vehicle that can legally haul more than seven tonnes, but supple enough to absorb bumps without jarring. This is aided by the relatively baggy sidewalls of the GXL’s tyres.

Old school recirculating-ball steering is low-geared and lightly weighted with ample free play off-centre to soften off-road blows, which is highly valued by loyal customers.

The wagon’s shorter wheelbase, tighter turning circle and shortest overall length than its 70 Series stablemates provides enhanced steering response and manoeuvrability, combined with four-wheel disc brakes giving ample stopping power.

Given the V8’s torque band is as wide and flat as Lake Eyre, it will accelerate smoothly in top gear from under 1000rpm, so there’s no need to shift your way through all five cogs from each standing start. In fact, for road use without a load, we always drive it like a three-speeder, using only first, third and fifth gears.

Noise levels are reasonably low in city and suburban driving. However, they do become more intrusive at highway speeds, when engine, tyre and wind noise combine to require raised voices, even though the overdriven top gear ensures a relatively low 2200rpm at 110km/h.

We also detected some squeaks and rattles emanating from the rear of the vehicle on bumpy roads, which suggested it was coming from the spare tyre mounted on the back door.

No ANCAP rating for the wagon, as the single cab-chassis version is still the only 70 Series variant to have achieved five-stars and that was back in 2016.

And although the wagon has AEB with day/night pedestrian and daytime cyclist detection plus driver and front passenger front airbags, it misses out on side-curtain and driver’s knee airbags.

New safety features include lane-departure alert with steering assist, speed sign recognition and auto high-beam control. There are no ISOFIX child seat anchorages in the rear seat, but there are three top-tethers above the rear barn-doors.

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.

The LandCruiser is covered by Toyota's five-year/unlimited km warranty.

Scheduled servicing is every six months/10,000km whichever occurs first.

Capped-price servicing of $525 applies for each of the first 10 scheduled services, which is a pricey $1050 per year or $5250 over five years.