Kia Carnival vs Kia Rio

What's the difference?

Ok, here's the rub. Everything you just read could well be pointless. You like the Carnival. In fact, it sometimes makes up close to 90 per cent of the sales in its segment, and outsells all of its competitors combined.

So whether I like it or not, I suspect you'll be buying one anyway.

But I can say this - the new Carnival improves the formula right across the board. Well, everything except for price.

The Rio S Manual is a fun-to-drive little car with a big practicality and multimedia offering in a segment rapidly heading towards extinction.

While some elements of the drive experience are reminiscent of budget cars from 10-20 years ago, Kia makes up for it by wrapping the Rio in a contemporary looking and feeling package, ready for the buyer who needs no frills and demands no nonsense. Until the manual transmission goes the way of the dodo, there is almost no better option.

Surely the greatest trick the Carnival pulls off, and it does so convincingly, is that it manages to make something so quintessentially uncool, the people-mover, and make it look good. Somehow sporty, even.

I like the Carnival's big, bold and blacked-out front end of the GT-Line, and with its two-tone 19-inch alloys, wide stance and low ride height, it looks almost like some mad attempt at a JDM tune car, rather than a sensible people mover.

Elsewhere, the boxy profile, the sharp body creases and the third-row compartment that kind of juts over the rear tyres like a house that's been extended all somehow work, and give the Carnival far more street cred than you might expect.

Inside, we spent time only in the flagship GT-Line and its GT-Line Lite sibling, and both present as calming, comfortable spaces, and Kia's minimalist approach to combining the climate and audio controls into a single strip (it's functionality can be changed by pushing a button) helps keep the cabin fuss free.

The tech in the top-spec models feels modern and on-point, too, and the materials are all nice under the touch. Be warned though, the cabin plastics get progressively worse the further back you sit, and the third row is cocooned by hard and scratchy plastics.

While notable equipment is missing, the Rio reclaims lost ground with the way it looks, and to a degree, the way it feels.

Ever since this new generation hatch launched, I’ve thought it brings a slick modern design to the city-car space, and even in its most rudimentary form as-tested (our car even came in the most basic ‘Clear White’ paint) it’s a great looking little hatch.

Sure, it doesn’t have the romance factor of the Fiat 500, nor the more delicate curvature of the much more expensive new-generation Toyota Yaris, but it certainly has a more refined visage than, say, the MG3 whilst feeling a bit more grown-up than the Suzuki Swift.

Solid, squared-off lines give this car a sporty pose, and its frowny-face and blocky rear round out a stout city-car persona, and I especially like the way even this most basic trim is adorned with contrast pieces, a spoiler above the boot lid, and body-coloured door handles and mirrors.

Sure, the 15-inch steelies dress it down a bit, but on the Rio these leave the impression of financial prudence rather than cost-cutting.

Inside is basic but tidy. The overall look maintains a hint of sportiness, with an appealing symmetrical finish to the dash.

There’s no question the Rio is a budget model when it comes to the touch though, with everything either a soft polyurethane or a nasty hard plastic, so while it all might look neat it’s far from the most comfortable place to be for long periods of time.

The basic dot-matrix multifunction display, chunky plastic air-conditioning controls, and polyurethane items from the wheel to the handbrake and shifter are reminders of a bygone era, but the overall aesthetic of the driver’s space is pleasing.

The Carnival measures 5115mm in length, 1995mm in width and 1775mm in height, and it rides on a sizeable 3092mm wheelbase. 

And those mini-van dimensions have a predictably positive impact on luggage space, with room growing from 627 litres with all seating rows in place, to a massive 2827 litres with the third row stowed.

The key practicality perk here, though, is space, and lots of it. At 175cm, there was ample room for me in the middle row, and you can configure the cabin to your liking, too. You can slide the row on rails, for example, to prioritise leg room where you need it, and the middle seat folds down to reveal cupholders in a kind of hard plastic travel tray.

But even in the third row I could easily get comfortable, though head room begins to get a little tighter. There are cupholders and USB connection points, too, and I can honestly say you could send full-size humans back there and not feel overly guilty about it.

The Carnival will tow 2000kgs braked, too.

I'd argue the key reason to buy the Rio at this end of the market is that it has the most space and largest cabin relative to its rivals, bar maybe the Suzuki Baleno.

All-round practicality is great, with front passengers scoring a low, sporty seating position with a high roof, and so much width in the cabin it almost feels like the Rio belongs in the next segment up.

Storage options up front include a large bottle holder and bin in each of the doors, dual cupholders next to the handbrake up front, and a large storage tray underneath the climate unit. Unlike the Yaris or Mazda2, the Rio features a small armrest console box, which gives a small lift to the ambiance of the cabin.

Back seat passengers are treated to great space for this segment, which feels nice and open courtesy of the large rear windows. At 182cm tall, I have airspace for my knees behind my own driving position, as well as relatively healthy headroom and ample width, which is again more like a car in the next segment up.

Rear passengers don’t get adjustable air vents, but there is a single USB port, a single pocket on the back of the passenger seat, and small bottle holders in each of the doors.

Perhaps the Rio’s biggest drawcard is its boot capacity, which at 325 litres is one of the largest in the city car class. Unlike the Yaris, Mazda2, or Suzuki Swift, the Rio will actually accept the CarsGuide three-piece luggage set with the rear seats up, although the rear view was obscured by the medium case.

Thanks to the boxy roofline, the Rio offers a cavernous 980L with the rear seats folded down, and despite its abundance of room, maintains a space saver spare wheel under the floor.

Value seems less important here when you’re contending with a limited list of potential options at this end of the market.

The Rio S manual currently wears an MSRP of $19,690, and if you’re able to shuffle cogs yourself, it counts its rivals as the Suzuki Baleno GL ($18,490), Suzuki Ignis GL ($19,490), or Fiat 500 Lounge ($19,550).

There’s also the option of the MG3 (from $18,990) or Kia’s own much smaller Picanto (from $15,990).

I’m pleased to report the Rio S is one of the best among these options, though. Not only is this car much more modern in terms of its platform and design than pretty much anything on that list, it packs great standard equipment, too.

The major wow-factor item is the Rio’s best-in-class multimedia system, consisting of an 8.0-inch touchscreen with wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto connectivity, just one of the areas where this car will grab eyes over rivals.

Elsewhere is a predictably honest list of standard equipment, including basic halogen headlights, 15-inch steel wheels, manual air conditioning, cloth seat trim with a polyurethane steering wheel, a small multifunction display in the dash, two USB ports, a six-speaker audio system, and surprisingly, steering-wheel mounted controls.

There’s no keyless entry or push-start ignition, and this level of equipment makes you feel lucky to have automatic headlights. Sadly, the S manual also misses out on the basic luxury of cruise control.

It’s cheap, missing a lot of gear, and feels it with an abundance of plastic trims, but somehow this car gets by with almost everything you really, truly need. Sure, it’s a bit of a hark back to the equipment lists of the early 2000s, but if you’re just looking for a basic car to get the job done, you could do far worse than this Kia with its impressive multimedia offering.

There are two ICE options on the table here. The first is what I reckon is the lesser of the two, a 3.5-litre petrol V6, producing a rev-happy 216kW and 355Nm.

The better option, I think, is the 2.2-litre, four-cylinder diesel, which makes 148kW and 440Nm, and just suits the nature of the car a little better.

Both pair with an eight-speed automatic, and send their power to the front tyres.

The Rio is beginning to fall behind here with an antiquated 1.4-litre four-cylinder non-turbo petrol engine. Peak outputs aren’t far off where they should be for this segment, with 74kW of power and 133Nm of torque, although they arrive at the most distant end of the rpm range (6000rpm and 4000rpm respectively) so you need to rev it.

It can be clumsy to extract this power, too, with the engine paired in this circumstance to a six-speed manual which leaves a lot to be desired in terms of action and clutch feel.

While the abundance of ratios can be beneficial for fuel consumption, it’s clear this car was designed to be paired with the more modern three-cylinder turbocharged engine only available on the top GT-Line trim.

The petrol engine will sip a claimed 9.6 litres per hundred kilometres on the combined cycle, and produce 220g per kilometre of C02. The diesel lowers both those numbers, to 6.5 litres and 170 grams.

Both models are fitted with a 72-litre fuel tank, which means you’ll be sailing well north of $100 to fill one up.

The Rio S manual has an official combined cycle fuel consumption rating of 5.6L/100km, which is about right for a light car with a small engine.

On test, covering largely urban kilometres, I saw a higher but not unreasonable 7.4L/100km. Still, this number isn’t too far off what some larger cars with 2.0-litre engines are capable of.

Rios with this engine accept entry-level 91RON unleaded fuel, and have 45-litre fuel tanks. They are only compliant with Euro 5 emissions regulations.

Forgive the horrific paraphrasing, but it seems rumours of the death of diesel have been greatly exaggerated, at least when it comes to the Kia Carnival.

Get this – diesel sales make up some 90 per cent of the Carnival's total haul, with petrol providing a pittance towards the sales total, presumably being picked up by fleet buyers.

And to be honest, that means nine out of 10 people are making the right choice here. Yes, the petrol makes more power, but it's the torque on offer from the diesel that makes pushing the Carnival around feel far more effortless.

The petrol engine can definitely get you moving, but it feels a bit too rev-happy and thrashy when you really put your foot down, and its significantly thirstier to boot.

The diesel isn't perfect – the thrum of the engine is a constant companion whenever you put your foot down, and there's actually too much torque on offer at times, like if you're accelerating up hill from a standstill on a damp road, and so the front tyres can scrabble and scramble for grip.

But it otherwise so perfectly suits the nature of the Carnival that it is definitely the best and most satisfying choice.

Another big change for this update is the fact that Kia's complete ride and handling program has been rolled out here. Kia says local work done on the outgoing car, the one this replaces, was curtailed by Covid and bushfires, and so ended up being done by correspondence.

This one, though, has had the whole enchilada thrown at it, and it shows. They've succeeded in making a bigger car feel smaller around you. It's not a sports car by any measure, but nor does it ever feel too big and unwieldily.

Part of that is down to the steering, which is direct and confidence inspiring, but mostly I suspect it's because of the ride, which is firmer than you might expect in a family hauler, but also offers a connection to that road below that makes you feel in control.

Whether a firm-ish ride is a perk or negative is up to you, but it definitely works for me.

A six-speed manual with a tiny non-turbo engine is an absolute oddity in today’s new car market, but as a result of its rudimentary approach, there’s something refreshingly honest about the Rio S.

The engine requires a wringing to extract the desired result, and a lot of action on the gears, as six speeds proves to be quite a few to work your way through before you achieve cruising speed.

As so much interaction is required with the transmission, I wish it was tighter when it comes to the clutch which feels a bit doughy at the best of times.

The Rio is very organic, though, with next to no electrical assistance for any of its interaction points offering the driver a high level of control.

The steering is direct, but as a result of a cheaper rack (with less teeth compared to this car’s Stonic relation), it feels simple and brittle when it comes to feedback.

The same criticism can be levelled at the suspension, which errs on the side of firm. This attribute combines with the low seating position to make even this most basic Rio an absolute hoot in the corners.

But it can be a little crashy over every-day potholes and corrugations, despite the abundant amount of rubber cladding the 15-inch steel wheels.

Visibility is superb out of this little car’s big windows, making you feel in control of your surroundings (necessary in the multi-lane confines and tight parking conditions of a city), and ergonomics in the cabin are absolutely on-point with the large touchscreen elements easy to reach and the instruments taking a basic no-nonsense form.

While noise levels are okay at urban speeds, they pick up above 80km/h, making the Rio more unpleasant to drive over long distances than, say, the more upmarket-feeling Yaris.

The Rio does find its place in this price bracket as a fun-to-drive, but predictably rudimentary experience, for the niche audience of drivers seeking an entry-level car who are still able to shift gears themselves.

Sadly, the Rio S misses out on any advanced active safety items. This is one area where city-sized cars are struggling to keep up, as expensive active safety systems tend to push them well into the mid-$20,000 region.

Unlike the mid-range Rio Sport, the S has no auto emergency braking, lane keep assist, or driver attention alert.

It makes do with the more basic array of brake, stability and traction controls, with the addition of a great reversing camera, three top-tether and two ISOFIX child seat mounting points, and six airbags.

The Rio carries a valid five-star ANCAP safety rating, to an earlier 2017 standard before its missing modern active safety items were mandated.

Like all Kias, the Carnival arrives with a seven-year, unlimited-kilometre warranty, with capped-price servicing throughout.

Kia’s servicing costs are higher than some of its competitors, though, so you might want to compare them, as well as compare what’s included, and the diesel model will usually cost slightly more to maintain than the petrol version.

Service intervals are every 12 months or 15,000kms, and while the brand is still finalising the petrol servicing costs, the diesel prices are $386, $682, $480, $869, $434, $845 and $461, covering the first seven years of ownership.

The Rio again gets the edge on its budget competition with a lengthy seven-year, unlimited kilometre warranty. In this space it only butts heads with the MG3, which offers a matching promise.

Roadside assist is included for up to eight years if you continue to service with Kia, and there's also a capped price service program for the duration of the warranty, covering up to 105,000km.

The Rio needs to be serviced once every 12 months or 15,000km, and prices range from $269 and $608 per visit, for an annual average of $409.40.

Not the cheapest servicing schedule we’ve seen, particularly when compared with the likes of Toyota.