Ford Tourneo Custom vs Toyota GR86

What's the difference?

There’s absolutely no doubt that the van-based people-mover has some distinct advantages over a three-row SUV. The rear seat is bigger, access to it is far better and there’s more luggage space even when all eight seats are occupied. But the Tourneo goes a step or two further with the sliding, swivelling seats that make it one of the most practical and flexible interiors on the market.

True, the driving experience is a bit alien at first, but it’s a case of different, rather than worse. Meantime, the ride is excellent and the performance and economy from the turbo-diesel driveline are both absolutely spot on for this vehicle’s intended purpose.

And perhaps that’s the metaphor for the whole thing: By not trying to be something it’s not, and concentrating on what it needs to do, the Tourneo emerges as a bit of a quiet achiever.

As we said earlier, this type of vehicle concept is never a sure-fire proposition. Parcel vans converted to passenger duties haven’t always worked out. This time, though, it’s different.

You’ve reached the end of this review and might be looking at the final score thinking it seems low. If you’re a keen driver and considering a GR86, all you need to know is this: the GT will provide plenty of fun for the money.

But if you’re more serious about your two-door rear-driver, and thinking about track days, the GTS with Dynamic Performance Pack might be worth it. It’s not an obscene amount more, and in a few years the extra cash might not even register.

Plus, there might not be much longer to be able to pick up cars like this new, anyway.

Perhaps the biggest revision of the successful Transit Custom formula needed to make the leap from FedEx to Brady Bunch has been to the rear suspension. Where the Transit uses a leaf-sprung arrangement, the Tourneo has switched to coil rear springs. These technically offer much greater ride comfort at the expense of some load-carrying ability. Which is fine, even if your kids are the bigger variety.

The move to powered sliding side doors is a welcome one, but I found out the hard way that the doors will still open a fraction if you push the button while still travelling at low speed. Not sure why that would be, but at least the buttons in question are up front in Adult-Land, not within reach of you-know-who.

The reality is, too, that the Tourneo is destined to run with the air-con on any time you have bodes in the back. That’s because – like a lot of van conversions – there’s no opening side windows beyond the tiny, hinged windows that open an equally tiny amount. This has more to do with the Transit’s basic structure than any desire to oxygen-deprive the young `uns, but as any parent knows, a supply of fresh air on the move is sometimes the only thing between a happy day out and a clean up in Aisle five.

The 86 was already an attractive sports car, with a traditional shape and just enough aggressive detailing to be appealing without looking too fussy.

Luckily, the GR86 remains restrained enough and changes are light enough that the lineage is clear. The car now looks a little more aquatic thanks to some rounding at the front, and its tail-lights are even more clearly from the Subaru side of the partnership.

While being less aggressive overall, the GR86 retains the essence of its first-gen forebear.

The interior is also clearly tweaked rather than entirely refurbished. Aside from the red carpeting and highlights in the example we’re driving it’s not massively exciting visually. But function beats form in this case.

Speaking of form and function, the red Brembo brake calipers are for more than show, with twice as many pistons helping stopping power. But given the number of comments from non-enthusiast friends, they’re also doing the job looks-wise.

Oh, and as mentioned, the White Liquid premium paint comes in at $575. 'Spark Red' is the only no-cost colour.

Here’s where a vehicle like this stands or falls. Because if something like a Tourneo can’t cope with lots of people and their luggage in a single bound, then there’s really not much point to it, is there? I mean you’re not going to buy it for its sporty looks or supercar dynamics, so unless it works brilliantly as family transport, it’s kind of dead in the water. Fortunately Ford seems to have got it right. Mostly, anyway.

That starts up front where the two front seats feel like they’re metres apart. In reality, this huge gap forms a walk-through function for getting access to anything or anyone misbehaving in the second or third row of chairs. But you can’t help wondering what if… What if Ford had ditched the stubby centre console and added a third front-row seat? Wouldn’t a nine-seater be better than eight?

But the seats themselves are comfy and the high-and-mighty driving position gives plenty of vision in every direction. With one exception. And that is when you’re pulling out of a side street on to a main road and need to see what’s coming from the left. Depending on the angle you’re on, the fat frame of the pop-out side window (in the sliding door) becomes a blind spot, especially for taller drivers.

There’s nothing irretrievably wrong with the way the controls are laid out, but they will take some acclimatisation. That goes for the menu system on the touchscreen as well as the column-mounted shifter wand which is about the same size and shape (and in the same place) as a conventional indicator stalk. Tip the lever accidentally and you’ll wind up in neutral, wondering what just happened. The manual-shift mode is also fiddly to use and paddle sifters would be vastly better. Most won’t bother anyway.

The front cabin is home to a shallow lidded bin in the centre console, a deeper bin below that and a couple of charge points. There are also cup-holders in great spots up high in the corner of the dashboard, a shelf across the top of the dashboard and no less than two gloveboxes (the top one is pretty shallow) thanks to moving the passenger’s airbag into the roof lining. Both front doors also feature bins and storage nooks but there’s a fair bit of hard plastic on show, surely a legacy of the Tourneo’s parcel-van DNA.

The Tourneo’s party trick is the way both the second and third rows of seats can be slid to almost any point on a pair of tracks in the floor. The move is simply accomplished via a lever at the front or a rip-cord in the back of the seats, and all three centre-row seats can be moved individually (the third row is split 60:40). The upshot is that you can have all three rows bunched together for a large luggage space, or the rear row pushed right back to form a rear row with huge legroom. Don’t need all eight seats? How about a second row with the two outside chairs in place and the centre one folded forward to expose a work-surface with built-in cupholders.

But it gets even better, because individual seats can be removed to suit the weirdest of loads and the second-row seats even swivel 180-degrees to form a loungeroom on wheels. The kids will be begging you to take them for a drive in this thing.

The seats fold forward, but they don’t tumble. They don’t need to really, and they don’t fold into a bed either. But if you fancy camping in the Tourneo, you can remove both rows of rear seats for a huge flat floor.

The second row is home to storage bins in each sliding door (yes, a door on each side) a pop-put window that opens only about 40mm, temperature controls, air vents and reading lights. The third row, meantime, is not only easily accessed provided the second row isn’t slid all the way back (at which point you wouldn’t be using the third row anyway) but the good news is that the rearmost seat itself is basically three bucket seats with the same comfort levels (high) as the second row. There are also reading lights and a pair of phone pockets and cup-holders in the last row, too. Only the way the track system works and the shape of the seat base means that foot-room is limited to an extent.

With all three rows in place, but pushed as far forward as they can go, there’s a long load area of up to 725mm. But you can also push the second and third rows all the way back and have a cargo area 2622mm long behind the front seats. Maybe the van DNA is a good thing after all.

With all eight seats in place, there’s a minimum of 673 litres of luggage space which can be expanded all the way to a monster 4683 litres with the second and third rows removed.

There’s also a 12-volt power socket and a lighting system in the back, too, although while the side doors are automatic, the tailgate is manual. And you’ll need plenty of real estate to open it, too. Even tall folk will hit the button to open the tailgate, start the strut-assisted opening and then take a step or two back to allow the huge tailgate to rise without clobbering them. An automatic tailgate where you hit the button and run away to a safe distance would be much nicer.

For what it is, the GR86 provides enough to make par when it comes to interior convenience, but there are drawbacks to buying a compact four-seater, two-door sports car.

If you’re tall, getting in and out can be a struggle. Even at 180cm you might feel like getting out after a long drive is a bit of work.

The fact there are seats behind the front seats means you’re relatively snug even as far back as they’ll go, but the driver-focused feeling of the cabin is worth it.

The physical switches and buttons are welcome, and the fact the 8.0-inch multimedia touchscreen is only for audio, settings, or nav (if you have phone mirroring plugged in) is a win for minimising distractions.

The materials feel relatively rudimentary aside from the seating upholstery, and the cabin doesn’t escape the cost-cutting presence of plastic, but the layout is functional.

Cupholders can be hidden under a cover just behind where the driver’s elbow might rest, which can be annoying to reach even if its purpose is to be out of the way.

Behind the main seats, there’s room for kids for a decent trip or, if you’re not hugely fond of them, adults for a while. Again, I’m a fairly average height and I don’t feel like I could spend longer than a 15-minute trip there before getting antsy.

It’s good they’re there, because having bad seats is better than no seats in a pinch, but don’t seriously think of this as a car for getting more than two people around.

The 237 litres in the boot is decent for a sports car, enough to get luggage or groceries in, but a limited opening space means stowing bulky stuff is trickier.

While inexpensive on the scale of sports cars, the Toyota GR86 GTS with the 'Dynamic Performance Pack' option ticked is relatively pricey for the badge.

The GTS’s starting price of $46,090, before on-road costs (regardless of automatic or manual transmission), is joined by a $2200 bump from the Performance Pack, then in this example’s case there’s a $575 charge for the 'White Liquid' premium paint.

Toyota’s website suggests $53,924, drive-away, for a GR86 specified to match our test car. It’s not a huge ask in today’s world, but a Toyota 86 used to start for less than $30,000, before on-roads (we’re talking more than a decade ago), and the car wasn’t dramatically different.

Compare the top-spec Mazda MX-5 GT RS, the GR86 GTS’s (with the Performance Pack) natural rival, at $51,790, before on-roads, or even the GR86’s Subaru BRZ twin in tS spec at $49,190, before on-roads, and the GR86 looks like decent value.

Other options for little sporty things like the Mini Cooper or Hyundai i30 N start in the low $50,000 range, while $41,990 before on-roads snags you a slightly smaller VW Polo GTI.

For the money, the GR86 GTS packs in enough features to feel decently premium for such a small space. Having said that, the 8.0-inch multimedia touchscreen and 7.0-inch digital driver display are nothing to write home about, nor are the six-speaker sound system or wired Apple CarPlay and Android Auto.

The GTS’s combination synthetic suede and leather (heated) front seats and its sportier trim (sports pedals, door scuff plates and door lamp) are notable however, as is the addition of extra safety kit over the base model. Really, though, rear cross-traffic alert and rear blind-spot monitors should be standard.

Because the platform is (mostly) borrowed from the Transit Custom, you get the same driveline. That starts with a 2.0-litre turbo diesel, good for 125kW of power and a useful 390Nm of torque. It drives through a conventional eight-speed automatic transmission and then to the front wheels as a means of keeping the load floor as flat and low as possible.

Ford claims a 2500kg towing capacity with a braked trailer, but on a wet road or damp boat ramp, that’s really going to test the limits of the front wheel’s grip which can be overcome even in the dry if you’re too hasty with the throttle.

The biggest engineering change in the move from Transit Custom to Tourneo has been the switch from leaf springs on the former to coil springs and an independent suspension on the latter. This is all in the name of ride quality and recognises the fact that the Transit will often be called on to cart heavier loads than eight humans.

The GR86’s 2.4-litre flat-four petrol engine remains naturally aspirated (rare for a modern sports car) and drives the rear wheels via either a six-speed automatic transmission or a six-speed manual gearbox - the latter also increasingly rare.

Outputs are 174kW at a lofty 7000rpm and 250Nm at 3700rpm regardless of transmission.

Ford quotes an official combined fuel consumption figure of 7.4 litres for the Tourneo. Over a few days of running in a pretty broad mix of urban and country work, we saw an average of 8.6 litres per 100km which is still pretty good for a vehicle of this size.

With the standard 70-litre fuel tank, that gives the Tourneo a theoretical combined range of around 900km between fills, but the real-world number says closer to 800km is more realistic.

Don’t forget, either, that running costs will be a little higher than some diesels, as the Tourneo requires AdBlue at regular intervals, in line with its Euro 6 emissions levels.

A 50-litre fuel tank provides minimum 98RON petrol to the engine at a rate of 9.5L/100km according to Toyota, that’s here in the manual. The claim for an auto is 8.8L.

On test, we saw 11.0L/100km, which included a spirited mountain drive, a long highway stint and some rather stop-start inner-city commuting.

It’s not a bad figure for a sports car, but you’d be disappointed to see it from just about any other small Toyota.

With that in mind, realistically you’re looking at around 500L to a tank if you’re not pushing things too hard.

If you haven’t driven a one-box van for a decade or more, you’re in for a treat. Just like the Transit Custom on which this car is based, the Tourneo represents a different experience to that of a conventional car or SUV, but one that is not without merit.

For a start, you sit very high which means a great view out across the traffic. And while the driving position is a little less laid-back than a modern car, once you get used to the almost square steering wheel, neither is it the dreaded sit-up-and-beg of older van designs.

The four-cylinder engine doesn’t make the Tourneo a fast vehicle, but it does give it lots of flexibility thanks to all that turbo-torque being available from just off idle. The eight-speed transmission helps, too, but the real surprise is just how quiet the Tourneo is when on a cruising setting. In fact, it’s almost uncanny how such a big, empty metal box could be so silent, but beyond a little tyre noise on coarse surfaces, the Ford pulls it off. As a result, it’s very relaxed and effortless feeling at freeway speeds.

The other surprise is how good the ride quality is. By swapping the cargo van’s leaf rear springs for coils, the Tourneo suddenly displays a very good match between the front and rear axles in terms of how they work to absorb bumps. You do still get some of the front-seat sensation that you’re sitting over the front axle, but it’s not terrible and the reality is that you simply sitting closer to the axle, not right over it.

For many drivers perhaps the over-riding impression will be of the vehicle’s external size. And, yes, it’s a long and wide piece of equipment, but at least the boxy shape means the corners are easy to place and the huge glass area and driver aids like parking sensors and blind-spot warnings help a lot in the daily cut and thrust.

Things are also improved by the fabulously small turning circle of 10.9m kerb-to-kerb (courtesy of the Transit’s role as an inner-city delivery van) that gives an agility the looks don’t suggest. But there’s a sense that the Tourneo is a little wider in the rear track than the front, as you’ll sometimes find the inside rear tyre finding the lips of roundabouts and suburban gutters.

This is where the biggest question lies regarding the GTS’s value proposition. Is it worth paying several thousand dollars more for a GTS with the Dynamic Performance Pack when a GT might be all you need? 

The GR86 sticks to the basic formula that made the previous 86 a gem, and just slightly improves areas where there was ‘feedback’ from buyers.

The biggest one is the torque dip that used to plague the middle of the 86’s rev range. If you looked at a dyno chart (which the 86 had built in, funnily enough) you could see the little drop where the torque fell away, so driving in either a lower of higher gear was sometimes necessary to dodge it.

No more with the bigger 2.4-litre engine. It’s more powerful, if thirstier, but still feels like a tool rather than something to really enjoy. It’s not the most characterful of things, and its fake engine sound through the cabin can feel a infantile. 

The gearbox is also not at the forefront. The shift feel is decent but there could be a little more clutch feel, getting into it after driving an old manual might see you stall and embarrass yourself once or twice.

The steering and handling, though, is sublime. The steering feel is sharp and tactile, you know what’s happening at the front tyres and you’re given the right information to make adjustments accurately. It’s well-weighted, and doesn’t have a big numb spot on-centre.

If you were so inclined, at a track, this is a relatively easy car to slide and let the tail hang just a smidge. 

If you find yourself making a mistake, the traction control is very good at catching errors before they become problems, but without stopping the fun while also letting you feel where it went wrong.

When it comes to the tweaked brakes and suspension included in the DPP, the GR86 is never going to be truly comfortable and unless you're tracking the car it’s not heavy enough to overwhelm the brakes on a public road.

The suspension on bumpy inner-city roads, even with the Sachs sports dampers which Toyota says “improve both on-road ride comfort and handling in dynamic situations”, don’t soak up the rough stuff particularly well. But they do stop it from feeling properly crashy.

Spoiler alert. Aside from the upgraded interior features, the GT’s $43,940, before on-road costs, price tag is some of the best-value motoring around, even if it’s much more expensive than the 86 was a decade ago.

The GTS’s asking price with the DPP at $48,290 isn’t atrocious, but it’s probably worth asking yourself whether the extra few thousand dollars is necessary, especially when the Sachs sports dampers don’t exactly make the car magically comfortable.

You’re going to have fun with this car in any form, so spending the extra on the GTS is optional, and the DPP is something you’ll probably get the most out of on a track.

The car we tested, despite costing the most it possibly could, still lacked some safety kit.

There are two ways to miss out on some safety features in the GR86 - buy the GT, or buy a manual.

If you opt for the GT, you don’t get rear cross-traffic alert or blind-spot monitoring. If you have a manual, you forgo a parking support brake and rear parking sensors.

There’s also no ANCAP rating for the GR86 though we aren’t marking it down for this. Toyota and ANCAP seem to think buyers of small sports cars are aware there might be safety drawbacks and understand what they’re getting into.

The GR86 has seven airbags, a seat-belt warning, auto high-beam, AEB in all variants, lane departure warning, and hill-assist. Nothing intrusive and a lack of annoying beeps and chimes which is welcome in a car focused on letting the driver be in charge.

If you're determined to fit a child seat (or two!) in the back there are top tether points and ISOFIX anchors for both positions.

Ford offers its standard five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty on the Tourneo. Five years is fair enough, but can’t match the seven years or even more that some of the competition offer. It‘s worth noting, however, that the warranty does match many of the makes and models that will be the Ford’s natural enemies.

Service intervals are 12 months or a very long 30,000km, but it’s unlikely many families will clock up 30,000km in a 12-month period, anyway. There’s no word on capped-price servicing yet, but the mechanically similar Transit Custom has a service plan that limits the cost of each of the first four services to around $500.

The biggest additional running cost for the Tourneo will be the AdBlue additive to control emissions. How frequently you need to top up will be determined by what type of driving you do.

Toyota offers a five-year, unlimited kilometre warranty, which increases to seven years if you keep your servicing within Toyota’s network.

It’s a step-up from what has been the standard mainstream warranty for some time, but other brands are pulling ahead with eight- or even 10-year warranties.

There’s also a capped-price servicing plan for five years and the first five services are limited to $335 at the time of writing.

Finding somewhere for that should be a breeze, Toyota has so many dealerships it simply lists ‘over 275 locations’ as its latest count.