Chrysler 300 vs Chery C5

What's the difference?

The Chrysler 300 SRT is a big, fast, well-equipped and super-comfortable point-to-point tourer that’s also able to soak up the stresses of a city commute with ease. It’s also showing its age in terms of design, obscenely thirsty, dynamically flawed, and offered with a bottom-of-the-class ownership package. A fun place to visit but make sure you’re ready for permanent residency.

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 NSW Highway Patrol has adopted the 300 SRT as its weapon of choice, and psychologically I reckon they’re onto a winner.

A high waistline, small glasshouse and big 20-inch rims combine to give the 300 a chunky, take-no-prisoners stance. And this intimidating beast filling the mirrors is enough to make even the most determined speedster drop their bundle.

Except for the SRT badge at the back, the exterior is a chrome-free zone, with black finish on the big honeycomb grille, window frames, and dark chrome wheels dialing up the overall air of menace.

The rear view is similarly imposing, with a large slab of almost right-angular boot lid topped by a pronounced body-colour spoiler.

At this point, we have to call out less than perfect panel fit. On our test car for example the intersection of the bonnet and front clip above the headlights was messy with inconsistent shut lines and poor alignment.

Inside not much has changed over the current 300’s seven years on sale, and the design lacks the integrated approach of more modern competitors.

An 8.4-inch colour media touchscreen sits in the centre of a squared oval panel between the central air vents and under an analogue clock, that shape bearing no resemblance to the form of the heating and ventilation control panel below it or the instrument binnacle alongside.

A mass of buttons confronts the driver across the centre stack, steering wheel and door, while genuine carbon fibre inserts add a racy if slightly ironic touch in a close to 2.0-tonne car.

Leather and suede sports front seats look (and feel) the business, and the strongly illuminated gauges are divided by a 7.0-inch multifunction display including a clear digital speed read-out. Which is just as well, because the fussy increments on the analogue dial are hard to read.

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.

At just under 5.1m long, 1.9m wide and close to 1.5m tall the 300 SRT is a sizeable machine, so it’s no surprise there’s plenty of room inside.

Those up front are provided with a pair of cupholders in the centre console (complete with heating or cooling at the press of a button), storage bins and medium-size bottle holders in the doors, a long oddments tray and a small storage cubby (with 12-volt outlet) near the gear shifter, as well as a sunglasses holder in the overhead console and a big glove box.

There’s also a lidded storage box between the seats, complete with sliding tray, two USB ports, an ‘aux-in’ jack and a 12-volt outlet. Even old school nicotine enthusiasts are catered for with an ashtray insert ready to slip into one of the cupholders and a cigarette lighter to drop into the main 12-volt socket.

Rear seat passengers pick up a fold-down centre armrest with two cupholders and a lidded oddments box, decent door bins with bottle holders, as well adjustable vents at the back of the centre console, two USB ports, and switches for the standard heated rear seats.

Sitting behind the driver’s seat set for my 183cm position I had ample legroom but only adequate headroom. There’s enough shoulder room for three adults across the rear, but the broad transmission tunnel throws a spanner in the works when it comes to centre foot room.

The fully-lined boot is nicely trimmed, with a pair of flip-out bag hooks (22kg capacity), load tie-down anchors, and useful lighting included.

Volume is 462 litres, enough to fit our three-piece hard suitcase set (35, 68 and 105 litres) lying flat on the floor, or the CarsGuide pram, with heaps of room to spare. A 60/40 split-folding rear seat adds extra space and flexibility.

In the case of a flat tyre your only option is a repair/inflator kit, and it’s worth noting towing capacity for the SRT is the same 450kg for a braked or unbraked trailer, where the standard V6-powered 300C can tow a 1724kg braked trailer.

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.

In its latest guise, Chery’s small SUV coupe range has been reduced to just two grades, Urban and Ultimate.

This one’s the Urban. At $29,990 drive-away at the time of publishing, it undercuts the Ultimate by $5000, but does cost $2000 more than the old base Omoda 5 FX. And the competition is becoming fiercer by the month.

Consider, for example, the redesigned and vastly-improved MG ZS, facelifted Jolion and all-new Suzuki Fronx, as well the less expensive if smaller rivals such as the Mahindra 3XO, Kia Stonic, Hyundai Venue, Mazda CX-3, Nissan Juke and Chery’s own Tiggo 4.

Frankly, the Omoda 5 needed to improve.

To that end, the C5 ditches the old torsion beam rear suspension for a multi-link independent set-up that promises better comfort and control. That’s a big step in the right direction.

And while long-term durability and reliability remain unknowns with such gearboxes, a switch from a continuously variable transmission (CVT) to a six-speed dual-clutch transmission (DCT) may be a nod to driving enthusiasts. Let’s see about that.

The entry-level Ultra includes a nicely integrated electronic display and central touchscreen at 10.25 inches apiece, wireless Apple CarPlay/Android Auto, DAB+ digital radio, rear air vents, powered folding mirrors, noise-cutting acoustic front door glass and 17-inch alloys.

There’s also “Hello, Chery” voice control, that can thankfully be silenced as our example’s inability to differentiate 'Chery' from 'Cher', 'chair' and 'care' fast became a pain in you-know-where, since it insisted on constantly butting in.

Seven airbags and a decent level of advanced driver assistance systems (ADAS) are also standard – more on those in the safety section below.

For the record, the $35K-drive-away Ultimate adds better audio, a powered tailgate, heated front seats, dual-zone climate control, a 360-degree monitor, sunroof with sunshade, wireless charger, imitation leather, bigger wheels and more.

However, they are also necessary sweeteners against sophisticated rivals like the Toyota Yaris Cross Hybrid, Mazda CX-30, Subaru Crosstrek, Hyundai Kona, Nissan Qashqai and Renault Duster.

More importantly for some, the closely related and virtually identically sized Chery Tiggo 4 costs several thousand dollars less, and mostly matches the C5’s spec at each corresponding grade, undermining the newcomer's value. A strange own-goal, Chery.

Oh well. For some buyers, this swoopy crossover is all about image. At least the facelift addresses the old Omoda 5’s odd appearance from some angles.

Forget hybrid, forget turbos, the Chrysler 300 SRT is powered by 392 cubic-inches of Detroit iron… although the 6.4-litre ‘Apache’ V8 is actually built in Mexico.

The engine’s block is indeed cast iron although the heads are aluminium, with the ‘Hemi’ name derived from its hemispherical combustion chamber design.

It’s naturally aspirated, direct fuel-injected and produces 350kW (470hp) at 6150rpm and no less than 637Nm of torque at 4250rpm.

Drive goes through an eight-speed automatic transmission to the rear wheels with a limited-slip diff standard.

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.

A model of fuel efficiency this car is not. Claimed economy for the combined (ADR 81/02 - urban, extra-urban) cycle is 13.0L/100km, the 300 SRT emitting 303g/km of CO2 in the process.

Over roughly 300km of city, suburban and freeway running we recorded 18.5L/100km (at the bowser), and the on-board computer threw up some horrifying short-term numbers as we explored the car’s performance potential.

Minimum fuel requirement is 95 RON premium unleaded and you’ll need 70 litres of it to fill the tank… regularly.

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.

Roll onto a smooth, dry surface, engage the SRT’s standard launch control function and you’ve dialled in the ability to storm from 0-100km/h in a ludicrously rapid 4.5sec.

Unlike smaller capacity turbo engines, the big atmo Hemi takes a while to develop maximum torque (637Nm), hitting peak pulling power at 4250rpm. Keep the throttle pinned and full power (350kW) is achieved on the cusp of the rev limiter at 6150rpm.

All this fire and fury is accompanied by a beautifully brutal V8 roar courtesy of an active exhaust which tweaks the pulsing note it produces according to drive mode and throttle position. It’s hard not to love it, complete with rude pops and crackles on the over-run.

Beware though, this car is relatively loud all the time, so you’ve got to hope the love affair is a long-term one.

Suspension is by a short and long arm (SLA) and upper A-arms at the front, with a five-link set-up at the rear, and Bilstein adaptive dampers all around.

The switch between Comfort and Sport is swift and marked, with the latter best kept for billiard tables and race circuits. Around town ride in the more compliant setting is agreeably smooth.

Push the big 300 along your favourite backroad and you know you’re asking two tonnes of metal, rubber and glass to move against its will.

The eight-speed auto responds well in manual mode (with wheel-mounted paddles), and the grippy sports front seats do decent job of keeping their occupants stable and balanced, but the sheer mass of this car means you’re never going to get a corner-carving hot hatch-like experience.

And despite a chunky, leather-trimmed sports wheel, the hydraulically-assisted ‘SRT Tuned’ steering isn’t exactly the last word in road feel or sharp response.

Having said that, the fat 20-inch (245/45) Goodyear Eagle F1 rubber grips hard with minimal impact on ride quality, and in a more relaxed mode the SRT is a stress-free and comfortable tourer.

Big acceleration is balanced by big brakes, with beefy ventilated rotors (360mm fr / 350mm rr) clamped by Brembo four-piston calipers front and rear.

The system’s outright power is impressive but can be abrupt on initial application at around town speeds, until you get used to greasing the pedal pressure in.

‘SRT Performance Pages’ allows you to scroll through multiple real-time data screens (timers, G-force, engine performance, etc), which is fun, with outputs downloadable to a USB stick or SD card. The 19-speaker harman/kardon audio system absolutely cranks, and the active cruise control works intuitively, without the frustrating conservatism (taking forever to pick up the throttle) of some other systems

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.

Considering that it is merely a facelift with a new badge, the Chery C5 conveniently adopts the preceding Omoda 5’s five-star ANCAP crash-test rating.

Note that was conducted in 2022 using earlier performance parameters compared to today.

Anyway, there is little doubt that Chery has done its homework here, with a host of advanced driver-assist systems (ADAS) being fitted.

These include autonomous emergency braking (AEB), forward collision warning, emergency lane keeping, lane departure warning and prevention, blind spot detection, lane change assist, rear cross-traffic alert and braking, adaptive cruise control with traffic jam assist, traffic sign recognition, speed control assist, a driver monitor and auto high beams.

This cannot be understated: most of this ADAS tech requires Australian road tuning, because they interfere and distract to the point of being a nuisance.

Note that the AEB (encompassing pedestrian, cyclist and back-over braking) operates from 4km/h to 65km/h, whilst the car-to-car braking is between 4km/h and 150km/h. The lane-support systems work between 60km/h and 150km/h.

Seven airbags are present (including a front-centre and full head/curtain coverage but no rear side airbags), as are anti-lock brakes, stability control and traction control systems.

Finally, a pair of ISOFIX child-seat latch points and a trio of hooks for tether straps across the rear seat are also part of the C5 package.

The warranty world has moved significantly in recent months, and the 300 SRT’s three year/100,000km warranty is now well off the pace.

Yes, it includes corrosion cover and 24-hour roadside assistance, but with the likes of Ford, Holden, Honda, Mazda, and Toyota now at five years/unlimited km, Chrysler is way behind.

Kia moved to seven years/unlimited km in 2014, and there are whispers of the Korean brand shifting to 10 years sooner rather than later.

Service is required every 12 months/12,000km, and no capped price servicing program is currently offered.

With the caveat that labour rates will inevitably vary between dealerships, Chrysler Australia estimates five year standard servicing cost at $2590 (including GST).

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.