Ferrari Purosangue vs Holden Barina

What's the difference?

Write the Purosangue off as nothing more than another SUV-sized cash grab at your peril. It's not just the easiest-to-live-with Ferrari ever made, but also, and indisputably, an actual Ferrari, regardless of its body shape.

Note: CarsGuide attended this event as a guest of the manufacturer, with travel, accommodation and meals provided.

Would I recommend you buy a 2018 Holden Barina? In a word, no. There are better light cars out there for close to the money - cars that are more modern, more sophisticated, more refined, more efficient and better equipped.

At this point in time the Barina still has its place - if you just need a cheap set of wheels, I guarantee you will be able to score a good deal. But if it were me, and it was my money - but I had to buy a Holden - I’d be checking out the slightly smaller Spark (and saving a few bucks in the meantime) or trying to stretch the budget to the larger Astra.

The word ‘SUV’ is a bit like Voldemort around Maranello — as in, he who shall not be named. And if I’m totally honest, I thought the brand’s refusal to acknowledge what they’ve so obviously made here was just marketing guff to protect its performance heritage.

But seeing the Purosangue in the metal has shifted that view a little. Sure, it will compete with models like the Lamborghini Urus, but it doesn’t exactly look like an SUV, does it?

In fact, and this would likely be another dirty word in Ferrari land, it almost looks more like a hot hatch, what with its short rear overhang, swollen body styling and the positioning of each wheel in the furthest possible corners.

But more than that, the Purosangue looks elegant. Aggressive, sure, but still somehow a little understated. And for mine, that’s a huge tick in the positive column.

Unlike some of its competitors, the Purosangue looks like it was designed by adults, for adults, and not by cordial-addled children.

There’s no active aero at work here, with the airflow instead built into the design. Like the openings at either side of the front end, which channel air past the front tyres, or the positioning of the rear spoiler, which pushes air down over the rear windscreen so effectively there's apparently no need for a rear windscreen wiper.

Traditionally, interiors have not been Ferrari’s strongest suit, but the Purosangue is a comfortable and premium space to spend time, and the seats and the steering wheel especially, look fantastic.

The tech, though, isn’t perfect. Some of it (like the haptic Engine Start button) is an awesome addition, but while the twin screens for driver and passenger look good, the technology is a little clunky, and simply not as smooth as using a single, centrally mounted screen.

The Barina isn’t the most intriguing or attractive offering in the segment - that mostly has to do with the fact cars it competes against have changed quite a bit in the six years since the current-gen Holden launched.

There are more attractive rivals, but I think the update in late 2016 was definitely worthwhile. And in high-spec LT guise as you see here - with those stylish 17-inch alloy wheels standing out against the boxy silhouette of the Barina - it’s quite handsome. In fact, the LT for me is an 8/10, and the LS is a 6/10, so I’ve taken the average here.

The changes included new enclosed headlights with LED daytime running lights (DRLs) rather than the old ring-type headlights, a new grille, new front and rear bumpers, and revised tail-lights.

The interior isn’t quite as nice too look at, with loads of hard plastics of varying textures and qualities, while the ‘leather’ on the seats is unconvincing. It is pretty spacious, though..

Not the kind of thing you’d normally care about in a Ferrari review, I know, but then this isn’t a normal Ferrari.

So, let’s focus on the back seat for a moment. The Purosangue is a strict four seater. Asked why not just install a bench backseat for more family-friendly practicality, the brand had a quality answer locked and loaded.

The reason, it says, is because a car in this price bracket needs to instil a sense of dignity in every seat, and by installing three across the back row, you don’t just ruin the middle seat, but the two window seats as well, because then everyone is uncomfortable.

It make sense, right? Even if I still harbour suspicions that, by installing just the four seats in the Purosangue, it moves it just a little further from that dreaded SUV tag.

Either way, there is more space in the rear of the Purosangue than you might expect by looking at it. Each rear seat rider can stretch out, with more than enough head and legroom.

And while there, they can access their seat functions and climate control settings through a nifty pop-up rotary dial (front seat riders get one, too).

The rear doors open automatically with a long pull on a lever at the base of the window. Ferrari says the rear-hinged doors serve two purposes, the first being that they allow easier access to the rear seats, and the second being that they look much cooler than regular, boring doors.

The engineers, though, concede making them a reality was a nightmare, with the brand replacing three fastening points with a single massive hinge that emerges from the rear of the body.

There’s more practicality on offer here, too, courtesy of a 473-litre boot space (and more if you flatten the back seats), with a flat load space, and hidden storage beneath it. 

The Purosangue measures in at 4973mm in length, 1589mm in height, and 2028mm in width, and it rides on a new spaceframe chassis bespoke to this model.

The Barina has one of the larger interiors of the segment, thanks in large part to its high roofline. It measures a close-to-its-peers 4039mm long and 1735mm wide, but at 1517mm tall, it isn’t far off compact SUVs.

There is really good headroom front and rear, and the driver’s seat has height adjustment - meaning taller drivers can lower themselves in pretty nicely, but the passenger front seat doesn’t have height adjust, and it sits quite high.

The media system is a 7.0-inch touchscreen with two USB ports (one to connect, one to charge - both located in the top glovebox) and Bluetooth phone and audio streaming - and you get that system in both variants. The screen is supposed to have Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, but when I connected my iPhone it wouldn’t show up the mirroring screen… which was annoying, because there’s no sat nav.

The driver-info display may be a monochrome thing, but it is super handy to have a digital speed readout, and you can keep an eye on other key bits of info, like fuel use.

Back-seat legroom is adequate, but not exceptional - behind my own driving position (I’m 183cm tall) my knees were hard-up against the seat. You could fit two adults in the back pretty comfortably, but three would be hard work. If you tend to transport younger passengers, the dual ISOFIX and three top-tether child-seat anchors will come in handy.

Storage in the back is poor - there is no rear door storage at all, only one map pocket and no fold-down armrest. There’s just a single cup holder in front of the middle seat.

Up front there are two cupholders between the seats, and there are large pockets in the doors but they aren’t formed to hold bottles, so your fizzy might go flat from shifting around. The dashboard console is quite small, and there’s no covered armrest between the seats - but the driver gets a van-style armrest.

The biggest issue I have with the cabin is that the steering wheel is huge - like, it’s the same one used in the old Commodore, and it’s way too large for the Barina’s cabin - and the gear-shifter is oversized, too. Smaller features would make for a more spacious cockpit, and it’s a bit too easy to accidentally put it all the way down into M for manual mode, rather than D.

The boot of the Barina is fairly good for its size at 290 litres (VDA), and that expands to 653L with the back seats folded down in 60/40 formation - it’s a good cargo hold, albeit with a large, deep load lip, and there’s a space-saver spare under the floor.

There are some other little things that are good: the fact the electric windows have auto-down (and auto-up on the fronts). And some things that aren’t: the masses of hard, cheap-feeling plastics; the knobs and dials that don’t feel great to turn; and the seats are pretty uncomfortable.

Holden will push to get a deal done when you’re in the showroom and ready to spend - so make sure you keep that in mind if you’re shopping for a Barina.

The entry-level LS Barina has a list price of $14,990 plus on-road costs for the manual, or $17,190 plus on-roads for the automatic. But realistically, you should be able to bargain and pay $15k drive-away for the manual and $17k drive-away for the auto - or maybe less: I’ve seen dealers listing LS autos at $15k drive-away. And Holden is also promoting a free servicing plan for three years.

The same can be said of the LT automatic tested here, which has a list price of $20,390 plus on-road costs. I wouldn’t expect to shell out more than $19k on the road for this spec, because sales are hard to come by in this part of the market - especially when you can potentially get a bigger and better Astra for similar cash.

Let’s look at what each version of the Barina has in terms of standard specifications.

The LS has 16-inch alloy wheels, auto halogen headlights with LED daytime running lights, a 7.0-inch colour touchscreen with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto (supposedly!), plus a reversing camera and rear parking sensors.

The LT model trades up to 17-inch alloy wheels, plus it adds keyless entry and push-button start, a leather-lined steering wheel, 'Sportec' fake leather trim and heated front seats.

Things you can’t get in the Barina? Sat nav, climate control, actual leather trim, rear-seat air-vents, LED headlights, auto wipers, digital radio, head-up display...

There are six different hues to choose from, and only 'Summit White' is included at no cost. The other options - 'Nitrate Silver', 'Boracay Blue', 'Absolute Red', 'Son of a Gun Grey' and 'Mineral Black' - will cost you an additional $550.

Nothing but Ferrari’s best here, with a mid-front mounted V12 engine providing the power, and plenty of rapid forward momentum. 

This naturally aspirated 6.5-litre monster produces a total 533kW at 7750rpm and 716Nm at 6250rpm – and climbs to a screaming 8250rpm.

It channels that power to all four wheels via an eight-speed dual-clutch automatic, and a compact and front-mounted power transfer unit that calls the front tyres into action.

It’s a clever solution that allows the Purosangue the grip of all-wheel drive when you’re in fourth gear or below, reverting to rear-wheel-drive at higher speeds.

The reasoning is that you get the lower-speed grip without requiring a heaver permanent AWD solution.

There are more clever things at play here, too. Like a new 'Active Suspension' system that replaces the need for anti-roll bars with motorised adaptive dampers.

Each corner has an electric actuator that can then individually stiffen or soften the suspension as required to keep the Purosangue flat when cornering, or supple on bad road surfaces.

You can also lift or lower the ride height slightly, including for launch control which flatness the Purosangue for maximum aero slipperiness. 

Powering the Barina is a 1.6-litre four-cylinder petrol engine, which produces 85kW of power and 155Nm of torque. There’s the choice of a five-speed manual or six-speed automatic, and the Barina is front-wheel drive.

The outputs of the engine are decent for the class, but the weight of the Barina - a porky 1248kg - means it doesn’t feel as sprightly as some competitors, many of which are below 1100kg.

There is no high-performance model - the Barina RS that came out in 2013 lasted a few years, but was axed in 2016.

If there’s a fly in this Ferrari’s ointment, we’ve found it. Big V12 engines mean big fuel use, and the Purosangue will require a claimed 17.3L/100km on the combined cycle.

Be warned, though, the Ferrari’s accelerator calls to your right foot like a siren song luring sailors to the rocks, and should you get aggressive with it, I’d suspect your fuel figures to be even higher.

The C02 emissions are pegged at 393g/km.

You might expect a lower score than seven for this section, and I take your point. But for mine, you're buying a vehicle with a huge V12 engine, so you probably know what you're in for, right?

Because the Barina doesn’t have a downsized turbo engine like some rivals, it is claimed to use a relatively high 7.2 litres per 100 kilometres for the manual model (LS only), while the auto version (in LS and LT guise) is said use even more, at 7.5L/100km.

Over our time with the car, we saw 8.8L/100km, which isn’t terrific for such a small car. A Mazda 2 has claimed fuel use as low as 4.9L/100km, and it doesn’t use a downsized turbo engine, either.

At the very least the fact the Barina can run on regular unleaded (91RON) means filling up will be a little cheaper.

There’s a reason most supercars aren’t daily drivers, and it’s not always just a financial one.

It’s because they’re the most specialist tools in the automotive toolbox, usually engineered to attack race tracks and alpine roads, but not the school run or bumper-to-bumper traffic.

But you put up with it — the too-firm ride, the questionable ergonomics — because when you do land upon the kind of road your car was built for, any other inconvenience vanishes like traces of smoke from a chimney.

Which is exactly what makes the Purosangue such an interesting proposition, because here is a Ferrari that will likely be driven more, and for longer spells, than any Ferrari to have come before it, but it still needs to excite the senses on the right road.

So has Ferrari pulled it off? In a word, yes.

Honestly, when you’re just tootling around it’s easy to forget you’re driving a supercar.

That V12 engine falls silent, the exhaust is almost non-existent (owing largely to the sound deadening of the cabin – to really hear this beast at full roar you want to crack a window, or find a tunnel), and the suspension (each driving mode has two suspension settings, medium and soft, allowing for some serious fine-tuning of the ride comfort) floats across most road surfaces.

It feels much like any other premium SUV, and not one with a nuclear power plant lurking just ahead of the dashboard.

Because there is a Hyde to this Jekyll, and it arrives when you dial up the sportiness, or get a little too heavy with the accelerator. Then that big V12 roars into life, along with the exhaust, and suddenly you’re very much behind the wheel of Ferrari once again.

Engage launch control and you can feel the Purosangue hunker down, dropping lower onto the wheels and readying for action. Flatten your right foot, and 100km/h arrives in a claimed 3.3 seconds, with 200km/h flashing by in 10.6 seconds.

But there is a quirk here, and that is that the Purosangue doesn’t always feel blisteringly fast. It's powerful, sure, and plenty quick, too, it's just that somehow it doesn't always feel quite as fast as the spec sheet suggests.

Maybe it’s the theatre, or all in my mind, but I reckon the best way to experience the all-out performance is by taking over the gearing yourself, and listening to the machine-gun-popping of the rev limiter before squeezing the paddle shifter, to truly feel like you're unlocking every ounce of performance on offer.

Is it the sharpest Ferrari ever built? Obviously not, and even a carbon-fibre roof can’t compensate for the over 2.0-tonne weight here.

But I promise, should you find yourself on a twisting road, the Purosangue can paint a supercar-sized smile on your face just the same.

The steering isn't quite as sharp as it might be in a true supercar (I suspect its been softened to make the Purosangue more comfortable on freeways and over longer distances), but it still inspires plenty of confidence, while the the rear-wheel-steering helps tuck you nearly into corners before that big engine drags you out the other side, that operatic exhaust bellowing along with you.

A real Ferrari? You bet.

There are elements of the drive experience in the Barina that are fine, but not one part of it sets a benchmark for the segment. And in a class where almost every car is at least a little bit fun to drive - think the Mazda 2, Skoda Fabia, Volkswagen Polo, Ford Fiesta, Kia Rio, Peugeot 208, Suzuki Swift... I could keep going, but I'd prefer to drive any of those every day. Heck, even a Toyota Yaris or Hyundai Accent excites me more than this.

If all you do is potter from home to work, or home to the train station, there’s a good chance this will be fine as your means of conveyance. But if you’re the sort of person who wants a car they can enjoy, the Barina mightn’t be for you.

The LT model with its larger wheels may look pretty good, but the ride is fouled by those rims. And while the grip from the Continental ContiPremiumContact 2 tyres is genuinely good, the steering can be slow and heavy at times, and there’s a lot of road noise on coarse-chip surfaces.

Those wheels are nice and might be acceptable in a sporty hatch, but the performance doesn’t match up - the 1.6-litre engine is a little bit gutless at times, with its lack of torque meaning the six-speed automatic transmission is quite busy shuffling through the gears. That’s not unusual in this class, but the engine isn’t very refined, and can get trashy at high revs.

The transmission is not only busy, but it can be clunky when shifting, too - I noticed a few times when it was going between second and third gears.

The fact the Barina is still marked with a five-star ANCAP stamp is potentially a bit misleading - the car was tested way back in 2011 for 2012 models onwards, and the strictness of testing has changed markedly over that period.

As a result, the Barina range still features the must-have inclusions you would expect - a reversing camera, rear parking sensors, and six airbags.

But in a world where auto emergency braking (AEB) can be had in cars from just $14,190 (the Kia Picanto), the Barina lacks that latest tech. No Barina can be had with AEB, even as an option, and you can forget lane-keeping assist, blind-spot monitoring or any of those other nice technologies that could prove life-saving. It’s a ‘no’ for front sensors as well.

Every Ferrari arrives with a three-year, unlimited kilometre warranty, with the option of extending coverage for up to seven years at the point of purchase.

Also available is Ferrari's 'Power20' coverage, which covers the engine, gearbox, transmission and all other major mechanical and electronic components for 20 years from the point of purchase.

The recommended service interval is 12 months/20,000km, and there's also a seven-year capped-price servicing program, called '7-Year Genuine Maintenance', which allows you to prepay for all your servicing needs.

Holden has rolled back that limited-time seven-year warranty, with the standard old three-year/100,000km plan in place once more. There is the option of extended warranty, with up to six years/175,000km available.

Holden requires the Barina to be serviced every nine months or 15,000km, which is reasonably lenient - some competitors require maintenance visits every six months/10,000km.

The costs are covered by Holden’s 'Know Your Cost Servicing' plan, with the first and second services priced at $249, the third and fourth at $349, while the fifth drops back to $249. No matter which way you look at it, it’s more affordable than a lot of competitors.