GWM ORA vs Smart 3

What's the difference?

The GWM Ora is a solid electric car for the city with an extremely competitive price, balanced with some flaws that might frustrate some - Android phone owners especially. But the GT variant doesn’t offer enough to justify how much more expensive it is than the variants below.

It has a slightly lower range, no more performance (not that it needs more power), a features list almost identical to the Ultra and arguably loses its appealing cutesy looks. 

While the rest of the Ora line-up has its strengths and a cute but daring design, the GT effectively offers only its bark-over-bite styling changes.

If the Ora is on your shopping list, it’s certainly worth checking out the $43,990 Ultra, or even the $40,990 Extended Range if its list of features suits you. But if you for some reason enjoy the GT’s styling, that extra spend might be worth it.

The #3 Brabus is very nearly one of the great bargains of 2024, with the sort of style, luxury, features, performance and grip you’d expect from the much-more-expensive GLA AMG 45. It’s that good.

What would make it great is a sunblock for the hot glass roof on a sunny day, Australian road tuning for the infuriating ADAS tech and a revised steering tune that didn’t make it feel inconsistent at times.

See past these, though, and the #3 Brabus exceeds expectations.

We’re glad Smart is back.

Yep, as a step-up from the Ora Ultra, the GT’s main selling point is its styling. For a car with a 400km driving range, it’s so non-threatening it looks like it would get beaten up and have its lunch money stolen by dual-cabs if it left the city - but cute works, just ask Mini or Fiat.

Its headlights have a splash of Porsche 911 in them. There are some angles that even look a little like someone had an Abarth explained to them then tried to draw it. More than one friend has told me it reminds them of a VW Beetle.

None of that bothers me in particular, but the GT-specific additions to the Ora make it feel like a deeply unserious car.

The fake carbon trim is tacky on a car that has no performance improvement over its base variant sibling, the red strip under the number plate looks like a tongue poking out under an overbite, the wheels look like Tony Stark designed them, and the rear ‘wing’ and diffuser just don’t feel at home.

One thing that didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would was the lack of ‘traditional’ tail-lights, instead a light bar under the rear window takes that role.

The rest of the Ora range is cute, fun, and looks at home in the city where the Ora is at its best. The GT’s features are mostly the same as the Ultra, so the extra $3000 for the GT exterior doesn’t really feel like value.

Inside, however, the design is less in-yer-face. A tidy set-up features a Mini-style row of switches (for some of the climate control) under a bar that spans the dash with the vents integrated.

The steering wheel is big, arguably too big, behind it is the 10.25-inch driver display attached to the central multimedia display. Everything’s very tidy and minimalistic inside, even the gear selector is a round dial.

It looks like a reasonably fashionable interior, but when it comes to the functionality, it starts to fall apart.

Smart says Mercedes designed the #3 and it shows.

In silhouette, or when glanced peripherally, it could be the love child of the A-Class and EQA. Only the friendly face betrays its non-Benz heritage.

Longer and wider than the #1, it is also 80mm lower – achieved via a lower ride height, flatter seats and a thinner floor.

Helped by a 35mm wheelbase stretch, it provides a nicely-balanced and proportioned crossover, with a decent drag coefficient of 0.27. The Brabus’ big wheels also fill out the arches very nicely.

Key length/width/height/wheelbase dimensions are 4400mm/1844mm/1556mm and 2785mm, respectively.

Unusually for a coupe/crossover mash-up, there’s slightly more room inside compared to the upright donor model.

Let’s take a longer look in there.

I can see the appeal of the Ora, but there are some glaring issues that I suspect many will find frustrating over time during ownership.

I’ll start with the big one - Android Auto. Or the lack thereof. Apple CarPlay is available however, even wirelessly.

Being a car journalist in 2024 involves a lot of playing around with in-car tech, and it’s been an awfully long time since I wasn’t able to mirror my phone to a car’s central screen where those with an Apple iPhone could. About 70 per cent of the world uses a phone running Android, by the way. Mostly Samsungs, like mine, but pretty much anything else that isn’t an iPhone too.

It wouldn’t be as major an issue if there was a navigation function in the car’s native multimedia system, but there isn’t. Having only a Bluetooth connection and no map felt a little like taking a step back in time, with an old iPad tacked onto the dash. No Fruit Ninja though.

Smaller things come down to basic ergonomics. The touchscreen itself and the system on it are simple and easy enough to use, if a little unresponsive. The driver display is fairly simple and doesn’t fall too far into the trap of sub-menus on sub-menus.

Physically, the cabin is almost there - the seat and steering wheel adjustment, however, made it a little tricky for me to find a comfortable driving position. 

I’m pretty much dead-on the average height of an Australian man, and the lack of tilt for the base of the seat meant no under-thigh support if I was to be the right distance to have a proper hold on the steering wheel - not telescopically adjustable, by the way.

Another interesting ergonomic fail is the placement of the drive mode select button (one of the GT’s few unique features) being to the right side of the steering column, near where you’d expect rarely-used controls like the headlight height adjust to be - or in this case a couple of centimetres from the button that kills the power to the battery if pressed while not in motion.

This caused severe embarrassment at a set of lights while searching for the drive mode switch, with no obvious way to start the car again, short of opening and closing the driver door.

Oh, and switching through the drive modes elicits a unique videogame-style chime or jingle for each mode. Gimmicky at first, potentially rather irritating after some time.

A positive of the interior layout, however, is the space in the rear seats is fairly generous for a small car - at almost six-feet tall behind my own seating position, I wasn’t lacking space to move and the seat itself is comfortable enough for a decent trip.

Behind that, a relatively limited 228-litre boot is probably less useful for a decent trip, though its 858L of space with the rear seats folded down is more handy in a pinch.

On first approach, you ask yourself whether the #3 is a crossover or a small-to-medium SUV. The low roof and cool frameless doors certainly suggest the former, as do the comparatively small apertures.

That said, with the windows down, those sash-less doors help entry and egress.

Once ensconced inside a long if slightly narrow cabin, the #3 offers ample room for even the tallest adults up front, as well as a reasonably spacious back seat area, though you’d call that more of a '2+1' seater given the lack of girth for three. Most folk shouldn’t struggle to find the right driving position, either.

Presumably keen to impart a generic Mercedes vibe, the #3’s interior is somewhat reminiscent of a GLA’s, albeit from last decade – down to the pronounced T-shape dash featuring a trio of circular vents in the middle, a standalone screen above and (unconvincing) metal-look plastic trim below.

Understandably, like so much of the Brabus, this might appeal to aspiring A45 AMG owners, but it seems oddly dated, given the advanced electrification going on underneath.

Likewise, none of the minimalism cleverness of the ForTwo city-car original is referenced, even digitally. A lost opportunity, really. The OG Smart is an icon.

Meanwhile, ahead of the driver, a narrow digital strip looks twee and cheap, as if ripped from a Japanese 'Kei' car. It’s a strange design detail for a $71K SUV.

Still, the #3’s cabin layout is largely a success, and much of that is due to the first-class quality and finish. Unlike some of the aforementioned Benzes of the previous decade, squeaks and rattles are notable by their absence.

Depending on your body, the racy sports seats up front are either perfectly bolstered or far-too snug, but they provide a decent level of comfort and support. And they position you just right for controlling the centre display, which dominates all.

The 12.8-inch touchscreen feels slick, responsive and right-sized for the car. At first, it can also seem like info-overload and perhaps a bit cheesy with its animal animations, but real thought has gone into it to provide an extraordinary level of functionality.

Across the top are icons for access to media, sat-nav, apps and camera view settings, while the bottom row is for various climate and trip info. While somewhat logically presented, the charging-station list seemed outdated and/or at-times incorrect in our test car.

Mercifully, the Smart has a row of short-cut buttons for 'Vehicle Modes' (including turning off the infernal lane assist and one-pedal accelerator/braking), 'Driving Mode' ('Eco'/'Comfort'/'Sport'/'Brabus'), glass demisters, climate and display-off.

Annoyingly, the latter is closest to reach, revealing the #3’s left-hand drive market bias, as the driver must stretch across to access the first two (and more important) settings.

There are also several handy screen-activated modes including 'Entertainment Mode' that temporarily leaves the accessories and climate control on; 'Rest Mode' reclines the driver’s seat down flat and dims the interior lights; 'Energise Mode' is designed to pep you up; and 'Pet Mode' keeps a climate-controlled atmosphere while deactivating all buttons that a stray paw might press. Clever.

There’s lots more besides, and using the touchscreen is better in this than most other Chinese vehicles, but it remains fiddly and distracting.

It’s also worth pointing out that the fixed glass roof needs a blockout for Australia. A Smart spokesperson said an aftermarket cover is available, but as supplied to us, sitting under it over a run of hot days is almost unbearable without a hat. This is not good enough.

Thankfully, the other basics are all A-OK.

The climate system coped well the hot sun bearing down through the glass, plenty of useful storage makes up for the disappointingly shallow glove box, while the chilled centre console and massive door bins proved especially handy.

USB access is easy, the wireless Bluetooth/Apple CarPlay performed more consistently than in any recent test vehicle and the standard Beats audio brings brilliant sound.

Out back, most people under 180cm should at least avoid scraping that glass ceiling, and there’s a reasonable amount of room for boots and long knees if the front occupants are sympathetic, but you’d be stretching the truth calling the rear seat packaging SUV-esque.

On the other hand, it’s beautifully presented, boasts a comfy and supportive backrest/cushion for outboard passengers and even a do-able centre pew for shorter-distance riders.

And it provides every expected amenity, including air vents, USB-C ports, door storage, a folding centre armrest with cupholders, and overhead handles/lighting/coat hooks.

And while we’ve already complained about the glass roof, it floods the cabin with light, to make it seem airier than it is. Narrow front seats with a see-through slit further enhance this feeling.

Further back, the 370-litre boot is reasonably long and surprisingly deep thanks to a removable upper floor that’s good for stuffing the optional home charging cables in.

And, of course, it can be extended to 1160L via the split-fold backrests to provide extra loading practicality. And there’s even a small (15L) amount of storage under the bonnet.

Maximum towing capacity is 1600kg for a braked trailer.

Though originally brought to market by Mercedes, Smart was never pitched as a premium brand, as it is now.

Back in the late ‘90s, Smart was an early attempt at better urban mobility. The ForTwo was a tad over 2.5 metres long by 1.5m wide and 1.5m tall.

Today, the #1 and #3 share their modular EV platform with Geely’s other small crossovers, including the Volvo EX30 and Zeekr X, while a stretched version underpins the related Polestar 4.

While the #1 starts from a sharp $54,900 (all prices are before on-road costs) for the Pro+, at the other end of the spectrum, the #3 Brabus flagship, with dual motors for all-wheel drive (AWD) and Porsche 911-style acceleration, will set you back $70,900.

Not bad, given it also includes a body kit, extra driving modes, beefier suspension, stronger brakes and retuned traction controls.

Now, that might sound steep against the growing choice of more-affordable EV alternatives out there, but consider that most of the cheaper ones are significantly slower, less sporty and/or not as highly equipped, including the Hyundai Kona Electric, Jeep Avenger and Mini Countryman.

The #3 Brabus’ fiercest foe, the bestselling Tesla Model Y in top Performance guise, is more powerful but costs $12K more and is slightly slower from 0-100km/h.

The $70K Volvo EX30 Twin Motor Performance Ultra costs $1K less and matches the Smart performance-wise as they share the same tech, but it’s considerably smaller.

Meanwhile, the closely-related Zeekr X is $6K cheaper but looks bizarre and is still largely unknown in Australia. At least Smart has that long-time Merc association to fall back on.

In fact, it is distributed by the latter’s biggest dealer group globally, LSH Automotive.

Speaking of which, how does the #3 Brabus stack up against the similar Mercedes EQA and other luxury EV rivals? The less-powerful Merc 250+ is $14K more, has less kit and is nowhere near as powerful. Same goes for BMW iX2, Lexus UX300e and Volvo C40 Recharge (alias EC40).

The #3 Brabus seems to be in a goldilocks zone of premium, performance EV SUVs. The most expensive Smart offers thoughtful value for money. For a change, the car actually lives up to its name.

Predictably, it’s also well stocked, with matrix LED headlights, electric heated/vented front seats, a 12.8-inch touchscreen, head-up display, 640W Beats audio, a foot-actuated powered tailgate, 360-degree camera views, the full advanced driver-assist safety enchilada, auto parking assist, 20-inch alloys and a panoramic glass roof.

Unfortunately, fitted on every Smart, that last one does not come with a factory built-in sunblock, which is completely unacceptable under our hot Australian sun. And no crossover or SUV should be without a spare wheel, either.

These are the #3’s only real deal-breakers.

All four variants of the Ora have the same outputs from its front-mounted electric motor - 126kW and 250Nm. Yes, even the GT.

What the GT does have over at least the base model is a larger battery shared with the Long Range and Ultra variants, but despite having the same weights and outputs, the GT is, on paper, claimed to be a tenth of a second slower to 100km/h than the rest of the range: 8.5 seconds versus 8.4sec for the cheaper models.

The #3 Brabus employs one permanent magnet synchronous electric motor per axle, for dual-motor, all-wheel drive performance via a single-speed ‘transmission’. 

They provide plenty of poke, totalling 315kW of power (115kW front, 200kW rear) and 543Nm of torque (200Nm front, 343Nm rear).

Tipping the scales at 1910kg, this means the Brabus delivers an impressive power-to-weight ratio of 165kW/tonne – enough for it to scoot from zero to 100km/h in 3.7 seconds, on the way to a 180km/h top speed.

To put those figures in perspective, the similarly-priced VW Golf R only manages 156kW/tonne and 4.8sec to 100.

That aforementioned larger battery is a 63kWh lithium-iron phosphate (LFP) battery, over the 48kWh unit in the Standard Range base variant.

According to GWM’s brochure, the GT’s electric driving range under WLTP is 400km, 20km less than the Long Range and Ultra (and like the acceleration time, for no obvious reason).

With a 400km claimed range and 63kWh battery, the Ora GT should return a power consumption figure of around 15.75kWh/100km, though on test we saw 16.4kWh.

GWM claims charging with 11kWh AC power will take 6.5 hours to jump from 10 to 80 per cent charge, while 80kW DC charging takes 50 minutes to do the same.

All #3s headed to Australia for now are fitted with the larger of the two battery packs available – a 66kWh lithium nickel cobalt manganese (NCM) item.

In the Brabus, it is rated to average up to 415km of WLTP-certified range, which is between 20-40km shy of the mid-spec Premium version.

Smart says the WLTP average energy consumption is 17.7kWh/100km. Our 3000km-old test car’s trip computer displayed a life-cycle average of 14.6kWh/100km since delivery.

During our week with the Brabus, we managed an average of 19.4kWh/100km, and that was over a 95km period of sustained highway driving at 114km/h with cruise control on and climate control set at 18 degrees (to combat the radiant heat from that glass roof).

With a big 22kW AC charger and 150kW DC charger capability, the former will replenish that 66kWh battery in about 32 hours using a home plug or 10 hours with an optional 7.0kW Wallbox, while the latter will need just over an hour from 10-80 per cent with a common 50kW DC charger.

As is the case with the GT’s outputs and features, there’s nothing to suggest the GT would be fundamentally better to drive than any other variant. Unless all those kids at school were right about red bits making cars go faster.

The Ora’s front-drive layout paired with relatively immediate electric torque delivery, however, means you probably wouldn’t want it to be much more powerful with this particular mechanical setup.

The Ora, as a city car, does its job reasonably well in standard drive modes, though its sport mode is possibly a little too eager for day-to-day affairs - and the way it quite conservatively understeers on corners suggests there’s not much ‘sport’ driving to be done in this cute EV.

The steering itself feels fairly numb (again, fine day-to-day) and becomes heavier or lighter in different drive modes, but with no real advantage - the wheel itself is also a little on the large side.

Its suspension tune is comfortable enough for the low-speed streets on which this car is likely to find itself most often, where most city cars aren’t exactly riding on clouds, though can more obviously start to feel a little underdone on rougher roads at high speed.

It’s not a light car, after all, a hatchback that weighs 1580kg and has a short wheelbase isn’t going to be a dynamic masterpiece, though it does at least feel stable enough through corners thanks to its low centre of gravity.

It’s not going to encourage any heroic driving, but it’s also more likely to deter rather than outright punish any silly behaviour behind the wheel.

Whatever notions ‘Smart’ might evoke, the #3 Brabus obliterates them. This is no buzzy little city-car runabout, but a surprisingly mature and athletic driving machine. This is a seriously rapid performer.

A trio of driving modes give you a hint of what you’re in for. Eco is lightness and fluff. Not very Brabus, but smooth and calm enough for relaxed commuting. And it’s far from slow, scooting off the line with zip and zest. Enough for most.

Comfort is actually a good all-round setting to be in, with an eager yet controlled level of performance. Strong acceleration and instant accelerator reaction show you mean business – if you’re in the mood. Still civilised and serene otherwise.

Sport ups the ante, as you’d expect, providing a decent whack of speed and immediate response. Actually, this is enough to keep up with most sports car costing thrice the price, while maintaining the driver-assist safety net. Fun without the fear.

Brabus mode is off-the-leash fury, turning the #3 into a convincing AMG alternative thanks to blistering thrust and a powerful punch across the spectrum. More (artificial) noise, more drama, more speed, more fireworks. The 'Launch Control' pins you to your seatback.

Yet even in the latter setting, the Smart behaves with a maturity beyond the brand’s reputation, capable of quick corners with exceptional (AWD-enhanced) body control and roadholding grip, without a punishing ride.

Underneath, a unique suspension tune for the MacPherson-style struts up front and multi-link rear end keep the Brabus hunkered down more effectively at speed.

And even in pouring rain, there are no complaints about the Brabus’ assured and confident handling. Yes, the suspension is firm, but it’s far from uncomfortable, so, an acceptable trade-off.

Plus, though not strictly one-pedal driving, the regenerative braking pressure is enough for slowing down and speeding up in the ebb and flow of traffic in its strongest mode.

Where we’re less happy is in the #3’s steering. It brings three weight modes to the table – but only two are useful, 'Light' and 'Standard'. Super-easy yet not totally devoid of substance, Light is great for around town and general commuting.

But when you lean on it at speed, the steering, whilst crisp and reactive, is not always linear in feel or motion, especially when accelerating at the same time, as you might when coming out of a fast corner.

Depending on how hard you are on the accelerator, there can be a visible step when turned from the straight ahead that can be quite disconcerting. It’s a bit like when slurping in a lumpy bit in a smoothie.

So, what about 'Sport' mode? Here, the steering is just as described above, but with added weight and not much more. Not worth it. Best is Standard mode.

Another disappointment is the advanced driver-assist safety (ADAS) tech’s state of tune. It’s in a state, literally.

The intrusive and apparently non-permanently switch-off-able lane-keep systems, especially, end up resisting what the driver intends, and even fight to steer the car where it thinks it needs to be. This is frustrating and potentially dangerous.

It’s been reported that Geely, and not Mercedes, undertook the development of these ADAS systems. We’re getting sick of (mostly Chinese) manufacturers rolling the arm over and imposing this sort of nannying and ultimately counter-intuitive driving interference tech.

This needs to be fixed. It stops the #3 Brabus from being a great performance bargain.

The #3 range scores a maximum five-star ANCAP crash-test safety rating. It managed high-80s to 90 per cent in all disciplines – Adult Occupant Protection, Child Occupant Protection, Vulnerable Road User and Safety Assist systems.

A full suite of ADAS is fitted, from Autonomous Emergency Braking (operable from 5.0-150km/h car-to-car) with junction, cross-path, pedestrian, cyclist and motorcyclist detection (5.0-85km/h), lane-keep assist (from 65-180km/h) and cross-traffic alert (front and rear), to blind-spot warning and traffic-sign recognition tech.

You’ll also find adaptive cruise control (with stop/go function), highway and traffic jam assist, automatic parking assist, front and rear parking sensors, 360-degree camera and adaptive high beam assist.

Included, too, are seven airbags (dual front, side chest, side head and front-centre), along with two ISOFIX child-seat fixtures and child-seat anchorage points in the back seat.

GWM offers a seven-year/unlimited kilometre warranty, as well as an eight-year/unlimited kilometre battery warranty. The former is quite decent for the industry, the latter relatively par when it comes to battery warranties.

Five years or 150,000km of roadside assistance is also included.

The Ora’s first five services, each coming in at 12 month/15,000km intervals, are capped price, all at $99.

The #3 offers a (decidedly-average) five-year or (disappointing) 130,000km warranty, whichever comes first. There is also roadside assistance available for free during this period.

Given other EV manufacturers are going seven and even 10 years in the case of MG, with most including unlimited kilometres, this could be better.

Scheduled maintenance is every 12 months or every 20,000km.

Smart provides a pre-paid four-year/80,000km service plan for $3120, which comes to $780 annually. This seems quite expensive for an EV, even a premium one.