What's the difference?
You wouldn’t know it to look at it, but this is a brand-new — as in really and truly all-new — Fiat 500.
That has got to be a big deal for fans of Fiat’s pint-sized city car, with a genuinely all-new 500 about rare as spotting Halley’s Comet soaring over Turin. The last time was way back in 2007, by the way, and that car will remain on sale alongside this new one for the foreseeable.
But that’s not the only surprise. This 500 is also entirely electric, properly modern inside, and it has actual technology in its cabin and on its safety list.
Fiat reckons this is a big reset for the 500. And that there will never be another all-new petrol model again.
So, how does this new 500e stack up against the recent flood of small EVs, predominantly from China?
Let’s go find out.
Driving naked is ill-advised, and possibly illegal, but taking a spin in the Lotus Exige 350 Sport is as close as you'd ever want to get. It's not so much that you feel you've left your clothes at home, but that the car has shed its accoutrements, and indeed its very flesh, leaving you with a kind of skeletal vehicle; just bare bones and muscle.
What this punishingly hard and fiercely focused machine does to your bones and flesh is best described as extreme chiropractry - in particular the stress of ingress and egress - but fortunately it makes up for the moans, bangs and bruises by fizzing your adrenal glands in a big way.
The question is whether the fun is worth the suffering, and the $138,782.85 price tag.
A fun, funky EV which will no doubt appeal to lovers of Italian style, but also one which struggles a little on the range and price front.
Still, there’s no doubt that electrification has improved the Fiat 500 formula.
To say the Lotus Exige 350 Sport exists at the very pointy end of motoring is a sharp understatement. It is, in essence, a track car that you’re somehow allowed to drive on the road, which means it's hugely compromised in various ways as a vehicle for day-to-day use, yet it's not really fair to criticise it for those failings, because commuting was never its intended purpose.
While it would obviously shine in its natural environment of a race circuit, the fact is you could also enjoy it enormously between track days if you pointed it at a suitably smooth and winding bit of country blacktop.
The performance, handling, steering and stopping are all fantastic, in the right conditions, and you can see how someone might justify it to themselves as a far cheaper version of a ($327,100) Porsche 911 GT3. The difference being that a Porsche doesn't make you fold yourself up like a pocket knife every time you get in.
The Lotus, then, is a car for the extreme enthusiast, only. And possibly for nudists, too.
It looks, well, it looks like a Fiat 500.
It’s actually bigger in every dimension than an ICE cinquecento, but it doesn’t really look like it, which is a good thing.
The 17-inch wheels look great, and big against the very small Fiat, and I like the hidden doorhandles, which make the already smooth-looking 500’s flanks look a little smoother still. But I can take or leave the little DRLs up front that are meant to act as little illuminated eyebrows for the headlights, which come over a bit too cutesy.
But I think the highest compliment I can pay it is that it looks like a regular Fiat 500 — one of the most successful reincarnations of a timeless design ever — and not some modern, eco-friendly version that would have killed the look.
In the cabin, however, it’s definitely a more modern affair, with the big screen, the horizontal push-button gear selector, and the nifty push-button door openers.
Still, it’s all pretty familiar Fiat 500, only a little nicer, even if some of the plastics are far too hard and scratchy for a vehicle this expensive.
There are five colours available: Ice white, Onyx black, Rose gold, Ocean green and Celestial blue.
The Lotus philosophy is summed by this slightly absurd mission statement: "Simplify, then add lightness". In the words of the great Barnaby Joyce "you don’t have to be Sigmund Freud" to work out that lightness is not something you can 'add', but you get the idea.
Everything about a Lotus is focused on the power-to-weight ratio, and this 350 Sport version takes the Exige to the ultimate degree, weighing in a full 51kg lighter than the S version, at just 1125kg, and with its hefty 3.5-litre supercharged V6 it is capable of lapping the company’s Hethel, UK test circuit a full 2.5 seconds faster.
Lap times, rather than road manners, are what this car is all about, and as such there are no creature comforts of any kind.
The Exige is an eye-catching beast, though, looking a bit like Darth Vader's helmet strapped to a skateboard. Everything about it is a statement of intent, and while the interior is as bare as Barnaby's brain, the gear lever, with its exposed workings and shiny silver knob, is a thing of strange beauty.
The 500e is 29mm taller, 61mm longer and 56mm wider than the current ICE Fiat 500 (now 1529mm, 3631mm and 1683mm respectively), and it rides on a longer wheelbase, too .
That means more front-seat room and head room, but there’s still not oodles of space in the four-seat cabin, and especially in the back, where things are pretty tight.
I’m 175cm tall, and my head touches the ceiling in the back, and if I had another full-size human in the back with me, I’d want it to be someone I know well, because we’d be well and truly aquatinted by the time we got to our destination.
The front seats are more accomodating, but there is a strange tightness to the pedal area for the driver. It’s so tight, in fact, that when you rest your left foot, you have to be careful not to accidentally clip the brake pedal when driving.
The boot is a small 185 litres, too. But you’re not buying this for practicality perks, are you?
Both the words 'practical' and 'space' have no place in a road test of this Lotus, so shall we just move on?
Oh, all right. There is no shoulder room to speak of and to change gears you have to fondle your passenger's leg. You're also in danger of breathing into each other’s mouths accidentally, you’re sitting that close.
Speaking of impractical, the door apertures are so small, and the whole car so low, that getting in or out is about as much fun as attempting to hide in a child's suitcase.
Cupholders? Forget it, nor is there anywhere to put your phone. There are two tiny oddment storage holes just near each well-hidden door handle, and a kind of slidey, slick shelf where a glove box might be, on which it’s not safe to leave anything.
Put things on the floor and they will slide under the super low seats and never be seen again.
The Lotus people pointed out a parcel shelf behind the seats, but I think they imagined it, and there is a tiny boot at the rear, behind the engine, which is smaller than some actual boots.
The 500e is not cheap by modern small EV standards — we’re looking at you, China — but it does arrive in one well-equipped trim level, called La Prima, with paint the only available option.
It's also, quite shockingly for anyone who has driven an ICE Fiat 500 lately, stacked with some truly high-tech kit.
There’s heated seats for the first time ever, for example, and there’s 10.25-inch central screen with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, and wireless charging.
There’s a digital driver display, too, plus there’s faux-leather on the seats and dash, a panoramic glass sunroof and fancy push-button front doors (though with a mechanical back-up lever hidden in the door pockets should something go pear shaped).
Outside, you’ll find 17-inch alloys, as well as LED lightning all around, including the DRLs, and there’s keyless entry and push-button start, too.
But, and it’s a significant but, the 500e lists at $52,500 before on-roads , which — when you consider its size, battery and range — really edges it into the premium EV space.
A similar-sized EV from China can be had for under $40k, which means you are going to have to really love the 500e to drop that extra $15k or so.
The question of 'value' is a tricky one when you’re looking at a $138,782.85 car that’s about as useful in day-to-day life as a matchbox-sized handbag. But you have to consider what people buy a Lotus for, and the answer has absolutely nothing to do with practicality.
A car like this Exige 350 Sport is purely purchased as a toy, a track-day special that you can, in theory, drive to the circuit via public roads. Franky, if I was rich enough to have one I’d still transport it there on the back of a truck.
Relatively speaking, you could have a far more practical and infinitely more comfortable Porsche Cayman for $30K less, but the Lotus is $30K cheaper than the similarly track-focused and brutal ($169,990) KTM X-Bow.
It is the opposite of comfortable.
In terms of features, you get four wheels, an engine, a steering wheel, some seats, and that’s about it. You can buy a circa 1993 removable-face two-speaker stereo, which you can't really hear over the engine and road noise, for $1199. Oh, and they do throw in air conditioning, which is also noisy.
Our slick-looking metallic black paint was also $1999, the 'full carpets' another $1099 (expensive floor mats, basically), the Alcantara trim pack $4499, cruise control (really?) $299 and the hilarious optional 'Sound Insulation' $1499 (I think they actually forgot to fit it). All up, our press car’s price climbed to $157,846, which, I have to say, is no one’s idea of good value.
On the plus side, the local Lotus people - Simply Sports Cars - do offer features a buyer would love, like regular Lotus Only Track Days, a chance to take part in the Phillip Island 6 Hour and the Targa High Country event, and various other racy experiences.
A single front-mounted electric motor delivers the power here, with 87kW and 220Nm on offer. Enough, Fiat says, to knock off 100km/h in 9.0 seconds. But it does feel quicker than that in real life, thanks to the way electric vehicles deliver their power.
There’s the usual EV single-speed gearbox, too, with power sent to the front wheels.
In the past, Lotus engineers were satisfied with the power they got from tiny four-cylinder Toyota engines, but this Exige 350 Sport is a Very Serious Car and thus has a relatively whopping 3.5-litre, supercharged V6 shoehorned into its backside, which makes 258kW and 400Nm, and that's enough to fire this tiny machine from 0-100km/h in just 3.9 seconds, although it feels, and sounds, a lot faster.
The six-speed gearbox feels like it's been stolen from an old racing car and is an absolute joy to snick shift at speed.
The Fiat 500e’s 42kWh battery provides a smallish 311km driving range on paper, but when we got in it was more like 290km at 96per cent charged. A city car, then, rather than a long-distance hauler.
When it does come time to charge, you’re set up for 85kW DC fast charging which should take you from zero to 80 percent in 35 minutes.
Lotus claims a combined fuel economy figure of 10.1L/100km. We don't believe that would be easy to achieve, because the temptation to rev the hell out of it and hear it roar would be too great, and too constant.
This is the probably the best-driving example of the Fiat 500 I’ve ever climbed into. Sure, it’s not quite as engaging as self-shifting a perky little manual, but it’s smoother, easier and more comfortable, and a whole lot better than ICE vehicles fitted with Fiat's odd dual-logic automatic gearbox.
The EV transition genuinely suits the little Fiat, admittedly sapping a little character, but also thoroughly modernising the drive experience, with smooth, constant acceleration, sharp-enough steering and a ride that’s mostly settled, only really becoming crashy over the bigger road imperfections.
The small dimensions here also help the EV reincarnation. Yes, it’s heavier than you might expect, weighing in at 1290kg (tare), with the batteries adding several hundred kilograms to the equation, but the 500e still doesn’t feel overly heavy, with the little Fiat remaining pretty light on its feet.
There are three drive modes on board, including the catchy Sherpa mode (because it will help get you where you’re going), which, when you’re running low on battery, kills the climate control and anything else it needs to preserve range and get you home.
But you can’t shake the feeling that the 500e is a little expensive for such a specialist tool. It’s unashamedly a city car, but one that will cost you more than $50k, and which doesn’t feel quite premium enough in the cabin to justify that asking price.
It's rare to find a car that is such an improbable mix of furious fun and infuriating annoyance. The Lotus is rattly, noisy, hugely firm to the point of punishing, with seats that offer encouragement but not support.
It is the opposite of comfortable and so hard to see out of that driving it around town, in any sort of traffic, feels borderline dangerous. There’s also the distinct sensation that you’re so low and so little that all those people in their SUVs won't see you.
Throw in the fact that it's so painfully, stupidly difficult to get in and out of and it's definitely not the sort of car you take if you're heading to the shops. I got so sick of its hard-edged annoyances at one stage that I became too grumpy to even take people for joy rides in it. I just couldn’t be bothered with the hassle, but then an inner-city suburb with high kerbs and even higher speed humps is not the Exige's natural environment.
The gearbox is a thrill a minute, as is the engine.
Making it even more of a challenge around town, at low speeds or in parking situations is the steering, which isn't so much heavy as wilfully obtuse. Doing a three-point turn is the equivalent of 20 minutes of bench pressing your own body weight. At least.
Out on a winding bit of country road, however, the steering becomes one of the best things about the car, because its pure, unassisted weighting feels so alive in your hands. There’s a sense of actually wrestling, or finessing it around corners that makes you feel a bit Ayrton Senna.
Indeed, the whole car comes alive, and starts to make some kind of sense, once you're on a smooth, perfect piece of tarmac. It is fast, noisy, thrilling, utterly and overtly involving, stiff of chassis and firm of ride, with brakes capable of pulling you up with indecent haste. It’s also, thanks to its low centre of gravity and mid-engined layout, beautifully balanced.
The gearbox is a thrill a minute, as is the engine, particularly once you explore the upper rev ranges, at which point the scenery really does become a scary blur out the ridiculously small windscreen.
Sure, you can't see anything behind you other than the engine, but what a lovely sight that is, and nothing is going to catch you anyway.
It does feel edgy, of course, and sharp, and it’s not as easy or refined to drive as some cheaper sports cars; an MX-5 makes for a far more pleasant companion. But this is an extreme Exige, a machine built by and for genuine enthusiasts.
And, above all, for the sort of people who will take it to a race track, which is where it both looks and feels completely at home.
Unfortunately, on public roads, it would be annoying more often than it would be thrilling, but the truly hardcore Lotus aficionados would never admit such a thing.
There’s a heap of active safety stuff on board (again, unusual for a 500), with active cruise control, traffic sign recognition, front, rear and side parking sensors, blind-spot monitoring, AEB with pedestrian and cyclist detection, and more.
Still, the 500e only secured a four-star ANCAP safety rating, scoring just below the five-star cut off in Adult Occupant Protection, Child Occupant Protection and Safety Assist, with a lack of a centre airbag not helping.
Unsurprisingly, considering it will sell fewer than 100 cars in Australia, Lotus has not had the Exige ADR crash tested, so there's no star rating. You do get two airbags, passenger and driver, as well as ABS, 'Hydraulic Brake Assist', 'Lotus Dynamic Performance Management', driver-selectable ESP with three modes, cornering brake control and EBD.
The fly in Fiat’s ointment is its ownership proposition, with a three-year, 150,000km warranty now way below par in Australia these days, even if the battery is covered for the standard eight years.
Servicing is every 12 months or 15,000kms, and will cost $250 a pop for the first eight years, which is commendably cheap.
Your Lotus comes with a three-year unlimited kilometre warranty and three years of roadside assist. A service costs $295, plus parts.