Holden Barina vs Smart 3

What's the difference?

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 #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.

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..

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.