Kia Rio vs Renault Captur

What's the difference?

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.

There’s no denying the Captur RS Line is expensive.

But it’s also sophisticated, cultured, comfy, friendly and fun, possessing a quality and capability normally expected – but rarely delivered as roundly – in more premium-branded small SUVs. Seen in this light, the Renault’s value is relative.

Better still, if the price is just too rich for you, there are three cheaper grades offering equal promise. Which is why the charming Captur deserves to succeed in Australia.

$40,800 before on-road costs

Based on new car retail price

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 original Captur was huge in Europe because it was keenly priced, looked good, drove well (being based on the agile Clio IV supermini sure helped) and was intelligently packaged (offering a sliding rear seat).

It’s no shock, then, that the second-gen version revealed in France during 2019 gently evolved the concept with a broader stance, sharper edges and expanded cabin space as a result of a 20mm longer wheelbase and 110mm of increased body length, improving rear legroom and cargo capacity in the process.

Built on the Renault-Nissan-Mitsubishi Alliance’s CMF-B (Common Module Family, B-segment) platform in Spain and shared with the latest Clio (5) sadly not sold in Australia, it benefits from being stronger and sturdier than before, cutting noise levels inside.

Nearly three years on, Captur II remains a handsome and pleasingly proportioned machine, looking somewhat larger than the CX-3 and Puma, yet still trim and taut enough to avoid seeming too big for urban buyers seeking a compact crossover. Its size fits.

Kudos to Renault Australia importers Ateco Automotive for offering interesting, vibrant colour options.

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.

There’s no denying how compact the Captur is inside as well. Again, that French city-car DNA shines through clearly.

Yet that doesn’t mean the cabin is cramped or tight, thanks to packaging that’s very intelligently executed, to the point where it will have you thinking twice about needing a larger SUV.

Additionally, the dashboard's layout and ambience possess a Euro chic that is also reflected in the quality feel of most of the switchgear and controls. Even the hard plasticky bits hidden in the lower regions of the console and doors avoid seeming cheap.

The RS Line’s cloth/artificial leather combo with its red striping and contrasting stitching plays up to the SUV’s athletic ambitions; ambient lighting choices are plentiful; the steering wheel is a chunky three-spoke affair that’s lovely to hold and behold; the paddle shifters are astutely sited; and the overall finish corresponds with the Captur’s lofty positioning.

That said, the dash’s design looks a little mid-to-late-last decade, with the 9.3-inch portrait touchscreen already dated after the Cinemascopic hyperscreens dominating the cabins of the latest Mercedes-Benzes, Havals, electrified Hyundais/Kias and others. Remember, the Renault's already celebrated its third birthday in France.

Yet the colourful multimedia system itself is thankfully fast and glitch-free, with clear and easy to understand functionality. The same applies to the RS Line’s digital instrumentation, which are configurable according to which of the drive settings (default/normal ‘My Sense’, Sport or Eco) are chosen. In this regard, the Captur's dash looks bang up-to-date.

In the RS Line, you sit on cosseting sports seats with just the right amount of bolstering. And while the driver’s side lacks lumbar support (you'll need the cheaper Intens for that), we found no fault after hours sat behind the wheel. Note, however, that the front passenger cushion is fixed up high – perhaps too much so for bouffant hairdos.

Points are regained for the simple and effective ventilation system, heaps of storage alternatives including door pockets that will easily swallow a bottle; the hidden phone charger deftly hidden under the gear selector; multitude of USB ports and ample all-round vision, aided by this grade’s excellent 360-degree camera views.

On the other hand, the multimedia system needs a good old-fashioned volume knob, as relying on tapping a screen is annoying and distracting. What is this? 2013? The gear selector might look flash, but it is infuriatingly fiddly. More on that later in the Drive section.

Furthermore, the chrome-like brightwork on the steering wheel spokes reflect sunlight badly during certain points of the day. The instrumentation’s indicator for which gear ratio is selected in manual mode is way too small and carelessly positioned in the bottom right-hand corner, making it difficult and distracting to read at speed. And two rattles reared their ugly heads: from the driver’s door and hatch.

Access to the rear is tight for longer-legged passengers, but once sat, there is more than sufficient head, knee and leg room sat behind front seats set for 178cm tall occupants. The outboard cushion is shaped for comfort, the (fixed) backrest angle is fine for most riders, and a third person can squeeze in the middle as required. There’s decent vision out and the ambience mirrors the front’s quality. Gloomy the Captur is not.

Absent rear-seat centre armrest, cupholders and overhead grab handles is disappointing, but there are rear vent outlets, access to two USB ports and a 12V outlet, sizeable door storage and map pockets behind both front seats.

Further back, the boot benefits from a low loading lip and wide aperture, revealing a seemingly shallow floor, but it's a fake; the sturdy base can easily be removed or lowered to open up a much deeper load area. Ideal for providing hidden storage.

Compared to the previous Captur, luggage volume grows 81 litres. Boot capacity varies from 422L to 536L taking advantage of the unique sliding back seat, moving forward some 160mm. That's especially handy if your rear occupants are children in capsules or booster seats.

Finally, with the 60/40 rear backrests dropped, that extends to 1275L, bringing some 1.57 metres of flat floor space with it.

In summary, then, the Renault’s interior is a clever class act, and in keeping with the RS Line’s premium aspirations.

This largely depends on what you value in a vehicle.

The Captur II range is four-tiered, kicking off with the base Life from $31,300, followed by the Zen from $33,300, luxury Intens from $38,300 and sporty RS Line, as tested, from $40,800. All prices quoted here are before on-road costs unless otherwise stated.

The bad news is, amongst most direct competitors, the RS Line seems needlessly expensive.

Cheaper direct rivals with a similarly sporty bent include the Kia Stonic GT-Line (from just $30,490), Toyota Yaris Cross Urban (from $32,990), Ford Puma ST-Line V (from $35,890), Mazda CX-3 Akari FWD (from $37,190) and Skoda Kamiq Monte Carlo (from $37,590), while even the all-wheel drive (AWD) options of the Yaris Cross (yes, the hybrid too) and CX-3 still come in below the Renault.

In the Captur’s defence, with a high-output turbo engine, it does offer either more power and/or more torque than all of the above.

But then so do some substantially larger small SUVs that still haven’t breached the $40K barrier, like the rapid Hyundai Kona N-Line and Kia Seltos Sport+ AWD turbos, Mazda CX-30 G25 Touring SP, Mazda MX-30 G20e Touring Vision and Citroen C4 Shine. The Citroen seems like a conspicuous bargain, actually, since it easily undercuts the related Peugeot 2008 GT (now from $43,397). Maybe the now less-irked-with-Australia Emmanuel Macron turned the other cheek in that instance.

So, is the Renault bundled out at the first round? No, for the Captur is one of those rare cars that succeeds in justifying its premium pricing with tangible benefits, ones that become apparent with exposure.

More on those later, but collectively the Renault might embarrass costlier yet largely less well-equipped base posh equivalents like the Lexus UX200 Luxury (from $44,445), Mini Countryman Cooper Classic (from $45,000), Audi Q2 35 TFSI (from $45,200), BMW X1 sDrive18i (from $47,900) and Mercedes-Benz GLA 200 (from $60,688).

It’s also at least a relief to hear that the RS Line has almost everything you’d expect in a high-priced small SUV.

On the safety front, this means autonomous emergency braking (AEB) with pedestrian and cyclist detection, Forward Collision Warning system with Safe Distance Warning, Lane Departure Warning, Lane Keep Assist, Blind Spot Warning, Rear Cross Traffic Alert, Traffic Sign Recognition, adaptive cruise control with full stop/go, a surround-view camera, front/side/rear parking sensors, Hill Start Assist, LED headlights/daytime driving lights and tyre pressure monitors.

Other goodies include a 9.3-inch portrait touchscreen, DAB+ digital radio as part of a six-speaker premium audio system, wireless smartphone charger, four USB charging ports and two 12V sockets, multi-screen digital instrumentation, satellite navigation, keyless entry/start, walkaway locking, auto high beam, auto self-parking, auto folding mirrors, myriad-choice ambient interior lighting, sliding front centre armrest console with storage, rear-seat air vents, sliding rear seats, heated steering wheel and rear-seat privacy glass.

These come on top of climate control air-conditioning, paddle shifters, Bluetooth telephony and audio streaming, Apple CarPlay/Android Auto, auto on/off headlights and wipers, electric park brake with auto hold, auto up/down electric windows all-round and illuminated sunvisor mirrors.

Being an RS Line, it also gains contrasting stitching on part-cloth/part leatherette (vinyl-like) seat upholstery, dark grey trim with soft-touch material on dash and door panels, red dash trim, chrome door sills, alloy pedals, RS badges, grey body trim, dual chrome exhaust tips, a unique front bumper and 18-inch alloys with a temporary spare wheel.

Weirdly, while the $2500-cheaper Intens grade includes heated front seats and driver’s seat lumbar support, the RS Line does not. Plus, no Captur features the front cross-traffic alert, intersection braking or front centre airbag tech that some newer (post-2020) rivals do. 

Overall, though, the RS Line delivers on specification.

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.

Here’s a fun fact.

Below the Captur’s stylish bonnet is a powertrain you’ll find in the least-expensive Mercedes-Benz A-Class, B-Class, CLA, GLA and GLB, as well as the related Nissan Juke and all-new Nissan Qashqai.

Developed as part of an expanded engine family by Nissan nearly 20 years ago now, Renault’s version is dubbed the TCe 155, a Euro 6-rated, 1332cc 1.3-litre direct-injection four-cylinder turbo petrol unit, pumping out 113kW of power at 5500rpm and 270Nm of torque at a low 1800rpm.

Drive is sent to the front wheels via a seven-speed dual-clutch transmission (also found in the other vehicles mentioned above). In the Captur, it features three specific modes – Eco, Normal (called My Sense) and Sport – that change steering, transmission and throttle responses, as well as a set of the aforementioned paddle shifters.

As with all the grades, the RS Line manages the 0-100km/h acceleration time in 8.6 seconds, on the way to a top speed of 202km/h.

Weighing in at a lithe 1267kg, this Captur boasts a power-to-weight ratio of a healthy 89.1kW/tonne.

Now, if you've been underwhelmed by or read negative reviews about this powertrain's refinement and/or performance in the various Mercedes models, Juke or even Renault's own Arkana, then brace yourself. 

All is revealed in the Drive section below.

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.

For reasons outlined in the Driving section, the Captur’s natural verve and spirit is contagious, especially if you’re up for a bit of fun, and we ended up extending this car’s legs well beyond what most regular small SUVs experience. In other words, we enjoyed caning it.

As a result of this foolhardiness, fuel consumption probably suffered in our enthusiastic hands, yet we still managed a credible 7.5 litres per 100km gleaned at the pump, against the trip computer’s 7.2L/100km readout.

That’s not too far off the official combined average of 6.6L/100km. Urban/Extra Urban numbers are 5.4 and 8.8L/100km respectively, while the carbon dioxide emissions average is 149 grams/kilometre.

However, note that the 48-litre fuel tank needs 95 RON premium unleaded petrol minimum. Expect over 700km between refills based on the official combined average consumption figure.

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.

Has Renault finally broken its dreary automatic transmission curse?

The original Captur (and previous Clio) was fun to drive and comfortable to travel in with the old TCe 90 (0.9L three-cylinder turbo) engine/five-speed manual gearbox combo.

But the old 1.2L four-cylinder auto version with the previous six-speed DCT (dual-clutch transmission, also marketed as EDC for Efficient Dual Clutch) suffered from being slow and laggy selecting gears, when all you wanted was an instant shove forward.

No such ailments afflict the Captur II.

Regardless of the DCT, the 1.3L four-pot turbo is a terrifically muscular performer, stepping off the line quickly and smartly, with barely any hesitation or delay. Perhaps the best we've encountered this side of Porsche's PDK transmission.

Even on hills, it is tuned for linear, jerk-free response, aided by a hill-hold function that eliminates the frustration of rolling backwards on inclines. Crawling in heavy traffic, there is none of the flaring or driveline snatch that the old EDC inflicted. Smooth, swift and sweet acceleration is at last available in a modern auto Renault.

And the news gets better as the roads empty out and open up. Throttle response on the move is strong, with speed building up quickly and smoothly. There’s a deep well of torque to draw upon, helped out by the fast-shifting DCT and good spread of ratios, that keep the engine spinning in the sweet spot. It sounds and feels sporty and alive.

Consequently, we reckon the Captur boasts the best application of this powertrain we’ve yet experienced – even amongst the Mercedes models using a variation of it. If only the otherwise-well-rounded Nissan Juke felt as polished as its Renault cousin.

One gripe, though, is the RS Line's gear fly-by-wire gear shifter, which too often fails to engage when you're in a hurry. You need to be slow and measured when selecting Drive or Reverse. Otherwise you may be left panicking mid U-turn. This is our biggest issue with the Captur.

Otherwise, it's plain sailing for France's diminutive SUV.

The Captur’s punchy performance helps it zip into tight spots effortlessly, assisted by direct yet easy steering that weighs up according to whether you’re in relaxed Eco or Sport mode.

Whichever is chosen, the RS Line’s handling is defined by high levels of confidence and composure that only comes with cars that provide feel and feedback.

This, along with linear steering that’s never nervous at speed, means driving the Captur quickly is a blast. Cornering is clean and precise, with the car naturally getting into an easy, gentle flow that makes driver feel part of the car.

This Renault feels connected to the road in more ways than one – and that’s a real rarity in this type of vehicle. Right up there with the animated Ford Puma, this truly is the Clio of smaller SUVs.

The Captur continues to impress when pushed really hard. Driven along a mountain road, there is some body lean through really fast and tight corners, yet is shines with its excellent roadholding abilities. Likewise, this is one small SUV that seems to relish long highway touring. 

Plus, and despite riding on 18-inch wheels, the Captur’s suspension (struts up front and a torsion beam out back, so nothing special or unusual here) is soft enough to soak up most bumps, especially larger speed humps, yet set up to deliver dynamically. It’s way suppler than you might think looking at the twin yellow Renault Sport diamonds on the steering wheel. We suspect the quality Continental PremiumContact 6 215/55R18 H tyres play a big role in this.

Our only concern is the Captur may be a bit too playful in the dirt. Over gravel at speed, the stability and traction control systems take their time to intervene, though they do eventually take over to gently yet emphatically reel in a wiggly rear end before it begins to slide out of control.

Renault has obviously tuned it this way, and it's frankly heaps better than the abrupt or ill-judged set-ups found in other SUVs (hello, Haval), but a mild adrenalin rush will follow if you're not expecting such... initial looseness.

If you love driving and hate the thought of dull SUVs, the Captur is the one for you.

Tested in 2019, the latest Captur scored a five-star EuroNCAP crash-test rating, and so has thus been endorsed by the corresponding Australian ANCAP organisation.

On the active safety front, you’ll find AEB with pedestrian and cyclist detection, Forward Collision Warning system with Safe Distance Warning, Lane Departure Warning, Lane Keep Assist, Blind Spot Warning, Rear Cross Traffic Alert, Traffic Sign Recognition, adaptive cruise control with full stop/go, a surround-view camera, front/side/rear parking sensors, Hill Start Assist and tyre pressure monitors.

Note that the Captur’s AEB can detect and brake for cars, bikes and pedestrians between 10km/h and 80km/h day and night, brake for moving vehicles at speeds between 7km/h and 170km/h while the lane-keep assist works between 70km/h and 180km/h.

You'll also find six airbags (front, front/side and front/rear curtain items), seatbelt-off warning warnings for all occupants, anti-whiplash front head restraints, Electronic Stability Control, anti-lock brakes with Emergency Brake Assist with brake-light activation and hazard flashers under heavy braking, and two rear outboard ISOFIX child seat anchorage points alongside a trio of child seat anchorage points.

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.

Renault offers an industry-standard five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty under its ‘Easy Life Ownership’ program, which also includes five years of capped-price servicing and “service-activated” roadside assistance – as long as you have the work done at a Renault-sanctioned dealership. That's when it is renewed annually.

Service intervals are every 12 months or 30,000km (regardless of make/model, we'd recommend a visit to the garage at half that mileage at the very least, though), and are listed at the time of publishing on the Renault website as costing $399 for the first three and fifth services, and $789 for the fourth (48 months/120,000km).