What's the difference?
It’s pretty hard to miss the LDV D90.
Mainly because it is gigantic; it's one of the biggest SUVs you can buy. In fact, I’d say what’s drawn you to this review is maybe you’ve seen one of these behemoths trucking past, and you’re wondering what the LDV badge is all about and how this relatively unknown SUV stands up against popular rivals and other notable newcomers.
To get one confusing thing out of the way, LDV once stood for Leyland DAF Vans, a now-defunct British company which has been brought back to life by none other than China’s SAIC Motor – yes, the same one which also resurrected MG.
So, is this MG big brother worth looking into? We took the recently released diesel version of the D90 on test for a week to seek some answers…
When the GWM Ora showed up in Australia last year, it seemed to rely somewhat on its divisive cutesy looks and sub-$40K entry price to draw attention - and to some extent it worked.
Convincing Australians to buy an electric car is hard enough for any car company, let alone one that doesn’t have the brand cachet of Tesla or the traditional companies.
But an entry price under $40,000 doesn’t apply here, this is the GWM Ora GT: the top of the range for the small electric car.
It’s just had a massive price cut, but is it worth paying more than $10,000 over the price of a base Ora for some extra goodies when simplicity and fun styling was the original selling point?
Looking for a cheap, powerful diesel SUV with huge cabin space and a humane third row for adults? The D90 is a really sound offering, especially considering the price of entry for this top-spec diesel which should resonate with Aussies a bit better than the petrol version.
It has plenty of issues that could be ironed out, but they’re all so small and not sale-breaking it’s almost annoying how much better the D90 could be with just a little work. Rivals should be looking over their shoulder for what comes next.
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.
Some colleagues I’ve spoken to like the way the D90 looks. To me, it looks like someone gene-spliced a Hyundai Tucson with a SsangYong Rexton in a lab, then grew it in a stew of peptides and this was the result.
What can’t really be communicated in images is how truly massive the D90 is. At over five metres long, two metres wide and almost two metres tall, the D90 is certifiably huge. Given that’s the case then, it’s admittedly almost admirable that only the side profile makes this thing look a little goofy.
I think LDV has done a pretty good job on the front, and the rear is simple but well resolved for a vehicle that rides on a ladder chassis (just take a look at the Pajero Sport for how ladder-chassis rear designs can get… controversial…).
The wheels, garnishes, and LED headlights are all tastefully applied. It’s not ugly… just confronting… size-wise.
Inside shares some familiar characteristics with sister-brand MG. Look from a distance and it’s all quite nice, get in too close and you’ll see where the corners have been cut.
The first thing I don’t like about the interior is the materials. Apart from the wheel they are all pretty cheap and nasty. It’s a sea of hollow plastics and mixed trims. The faux-wood pattern, which is clearly just a print on a plastic resin is particularly gnarly. Reminds me of some Japanese cars from 20 years ago. It might work for the Chinese audience, but that’s not where the market is in Australia.
On the other hand, you could say “well, what do you expect at this price?” and that is true. Everything is here and works, just don’t expect the D90 to be playing alongside the established players when it comes to fit, finish, or material quality.
The huge screen works to finish the dash, but that darned software is so ugly you’ll wish it didn’t. At least all the major touch-points are ergonomically accessible.
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.
The D90 is as massive on the inside as it is on the outside. I’m talking better space than a minivan, and nothing says that more than the humane third row. At 182cm tall, I not only fit in the rearmost two seats, but I can do so in as much comfort as any other row. It’s staggering. There’s actual airspace for my knees and head back there.
The second row is massive and on rails too, so you can extend the amount of room available to third-rowers – and there’s so much room in the second row, you’ll have space even with the seats moved forward.
My only criticism here is that the giant rear door is far enough forward to make clambering into the third row a little tricky. Once you’re there though there are really no complaints.
The boot is even usable with the third row deployed, with a claimed 343L of space. That should be hatchback-sized, but the measurement is a little deceptive as the space is tall but shallow, meaning it will only allow you to place smaller bags (a few, if you can stack them) with the remaining space.
The boot is otherwise cavernous with a wild 1350L available with the third row stowed flat, or 2382L with the second row stowed. In this configuration, with the front passenger seat slid forward to its furthest position, I was even able to get a 2.4-metre-long benchtop in the back. Truly impressive.
Without buying an actual commercial van then, this could be the cheapest way into such room, especially in a 4x4 bi-turbo diesel SUV. No arguing with that.
Second-row occupants get their own climate control module, USB ports and even a full-sized household power outlet, with more legroom than you could possibly need. My only complaint was that the seat trim seemed a little flat and cheap.
Front occupants get large cupholders in the centre console, a deep armrest box (with no connectivity in it, just a randomly placed DPF cycle switch), pockets in the doors, and an awkward binnacle under the climate controls that houses the single available USB port. My phone didn’t fit in there.
No complaints about leg and headroom in the front either, though, with plenty of adjustability to boot. The driver’s seat offers a commanding view of the road, although it can be a little unsettling to be so far off the ground in corners… more on that in the driving section.
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 paper, the seven-seat D90 is immediately quite appealing. At $47,990, it is literally a lot of car for the money. This latest iteration, the bi-turbo diesel, is only available in Executive trim at this price, but you can pinch pennies further by choosing one of the lesser petrol turbo variants.
Regardless, and much like its MG sister brand, LDV is good at making sure that essential spec boxes are ticked.
This includes screens galore as is popular in the Chinese market, including a massive 12-inch multimedia screen and 8.0-inch digital dash.
A screen is only as good as the software that runs on it though, and let me tell you, the D90’s software is not good. A quick flick through the weirdly small menu reveals barebones functionality, terrible resolution and response time, as well as possibly the worst execution of Apple CarPlay I’ve ever seen.
I mean, it doesn’t even use all of that screen real estate! Not only that, but in a recent overhaul to CarPlay, Apple released software to utilise wider displays – so the car’s own software must simply be incapable of supporting it. Inputs also proved laggy, and I had to repeat myself on multiple occasions to get any use out of Siri. Unlike every other car I’ve used, the software in the D90 wouldn’t return to the radio after you hang up or stop talking to Siri. Frustrating.
I’d rather have a far smaller display that actually worked well. The semi-digital dash was functional, although barely did anything that a small dot-matrix display isn’t capable of and had one screen which for my entire week said ‘loading’. I’m still not sure what it was meant to do…
At least it supports Apple CarPlay at all, which is more than could have been said for segment hero, the Toyota LandCruiser.
The D90 does tick some necessary items that are quite good. LED headlights are standard, as are leather seats with eight-way power adjust for the driver, a heated multi-function steering wheel, 19-inch alloy wheels (which still somehow look small on this huge thing), three-zone climate control, eight-speaker audio system, electric tailgate, keyless entry with push-start ignition, a reversing camera, front and rear parking sensors, tyre-pressure monitoring, as well as a fairly substantial safety suite which we’ll explore later in this review.
Great on paper then, the bi-turbo diesel engine is a boon, as is the fact that the D90 rides on a ladder chassis with an electronically-controlled low-range terrain mode for the transmission, too.
You’d expect to pay more – even from Korean and Japanese rivals for this much specification. No matter which way you cut it, the D90 is good value.
The GWM Ora GT was once a mid-$50K car, once you got it on the road. Its former sticker price of $51,990 before on-roads has, along with every other variant in the range, been dramatically knocked into a more budget-friendly shape: $46,990 drive-away.
That’s pretty cheap for a top-spec electric car, or for an electric car in general in Australia, but it’s still $11,000 more expensive than the entry-level Ora Standard Range ($35,990 DA).
The Ora GT also shares most of the key draw cards on its features list with the Ultra.
Its panoramic sunroof, electric tailgate, heated and ventilated seats with massage function and its heated steering wheel are all available in the Ultra for $3000 less.
One of the only things the GT has in terms of functionality in the cabin is a light for the driver visor vanity mirror.
There are a couple of differences when it comes to driving functionality, and we’ll get to that in a later section of this review, but the rest of the tech in the cabin is standard across the range.
The 10.25-inch touchscreen and same-sized driver display, six-speaker sound system, wireless phone charger, electrically adjustable synthetic leather seats - it’s all in the base-level Ora.
What is missing, very notably, is Android Auto functionality. The Ora does however feature wireless Apple CarPlay.
The D90 was initially offered in Australia with a 2.0-litre turbo petrol four-cylinder, but this 2.0-litre bi-turbo diesel makes much more sense, both for towing and long-distance touring.
It’s a four-cylinder offering a healthy 160kW/480Nm. You’ll note that’s pretty close to Ford’s similar 2.0-litre bi-turbo diesel, which is currently offered in the Everest…
The diesel also gets its own transmission, an eight-speed torque converter automatic with computer-controlled ‘Terrain Selection 4WD’.
This gives the D90 diesel a max towing capacity of 3100kg braked (or 750kg unbraked) with a max payload of 730kg.
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 D90 diesel is said to consume 9.1L/100km of diesel on the combined cycle, but ours didn’t score near that with a figure of 12.9L/100km after a week of what I’d consider “combined” testing.
The D90 a big unit, so that number doesn’t seem outrageous, it’s just nowhere near the claim… All D90s have 75-litre fuel tanks.
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.
The D90 is easier to drive than it looks… to a degree…
It lacks some polish of its more established rivals, which results in a drive experience that isn’t bad, but occasionally frustrating.
The ride somehow manages to be soft and harsh at the same time. It undulates over larger bumps, while transmitting the worst parts of smaller, sharper ones to the cabin. It speaks to a lack of calibration between the suspension and dampers.
That having been said, the D90 masks its ladder chassis underpinnings well, with little of that typical body-on-frame jiggle that some rivals still struggle with.
The drivetrain is good, but a little unruly. As you’d imagine from the figures, there’s more than enough power on tap, but the transmission tends to have a mind of its own.
It will occasionally lurch between gears, pick the wrong gear, and off-the-line will sometimes be delayed before shunting the D90’s bulk forward with a sudden mountain of torque. It doesn’t sound particularly good either, with the diesel surging through the rev range with industrial crudeness.
By the time the D90 has reached cruising speed though, there’s really not much to complain about, with the D90 milling along with plenty of power in reserve for overtaking. The view of the road is commanding, but you really feel the D90’s high centre of gravity in the corners and under heavy braking. The physics of such a large object are undeniable.
I have to say, LDV has done a fantastic job of the D90’s steering, with a quick, light feel that betrays the SUV’s size. It manages to stray on the right side of lightness though, not being so disconnected that you lose a feeling of where the wheels are pointing. No mean feat in something this shape.
Overall then, the D90 isn’t bad to drive and has some genuinely great characteristics, it just also has a litany of small issues that get in the way of it being truly competitive with segment leaders.
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.
The LDV D90 carries a maximum five-star ANCAP safety rating as of 2017, and has a fairly comprehensive active safety suite.
Included on the diesel is auto emergency braking (AEB) with front collision warning, lane-departure warning, blind-spot monitoring, driver-attention alert, traffic-sign recognition, and adaptive cruise control.
Not bad for the price, and nice that there’s nothing optional. Expected items include electronic traction, stability, and brake controls, as well as six airbags.
The curtain airbags do extend to the third row, and there’s the bonus of a reversing camera and a tyre-pressure-monitoring system.
There is a full-size steel spare under the boot floor, and the D90 also gets dual ISOFIX and three top-tether child-seat mounting points.
The GWM Ora’s safety features are almost all standard across the range, which is great even if you don’t opt for the GT.
This means its seven airbags (dual frontal, side chest, curtain and centre) are all standard, as well as autonomous emergency braking, secondary collision avoidance, rear cross-traffic alert and forward collision warning, lane keep assist, traffic jam assist and even a surround-view parking camera. The Ultra and GT are the only variants with a front parking sensor and auto parking assist.
The features are all there, but some finer tuning when it comes to some driver assistance could be looked at - thus the slightly lower side of the scoring scale for a car that’s ticking all the boxes on paper.
LDV covers the D90 with a five-year/130,000km warranty, which is not bad… but falls behind sister brand MG, which offers seven years/unlimited kilometres. At the very least it would be nice to have the unlimited kilometre promise.
Roadside assist is included for the duration of that warranty, but there’s no capped price servicing offered through LDV. The brand gave us indicative pricing of $513.74, $667.15, and $652.64 for the first three annual services. An initial six-monthly 5000km checkup is free.
All D90s need to be serviced once every 12 months or 15,000km, whichever occurs first.
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.