LDV D90 vs Holden Acadia

What's the difference?

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 Holden Acadia is a proper seven-seater SUV in that it will fit adults in the third row without turning your friends into enemies. It’s also practical and well fitted out with storage places and utilities such as USB ports.

I was particularly impressed with the advanced safety equipment on-board even at this entry LT level. Yes, it’s a V6 petrol and it’s not the most fuel-efficient SUV, but our time with it showed that with cylinder deactivation and the stop-start system it might not be as thirsty as you’d think.

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.

To fully understand the look of the Acadia, take a peek at the GMC website - but make sure you shield your eyes in the same way you would during a solar eclipse, or when welding, or in an atomic blast.

You’ll understand when you get there but suffice it to say contained within the site are some pretty confronting trucks and SUVs. Once you’ve recovered, you’ll realise the Acadia is the supermodel of the GMC family.

Yep, it has a big, blocky, truck-like look but it’s a refreshingly tough styling alternative to more elegant looking SUVs such as the Mazda CX-9.

The Acadia is also one of the smallest members of the GMC family, yet its dimensions position it as a large SUV in Australia. Even then it’s not huge compared to other large SUVs here, so you won’t have an issue piloting it in Aussie car parks or fitting into spaces.

The Acadia measures 4979mm end-to-end, 2139mm across (with the mirrors out) and 1762mm tall.

Along with the Mazda CX-9 the Acadia would also consider the Kia Sorento and Nissan Pathfinder to be among its rivals.

Inside, the Acadia is a modern and stylish looking place, although it’s a bit unrefined. Still, as one YouTube commenter reminded me parents will like the wipe clean surfaces.

Well her comment wasn’t written that politely but being a parent, I concur that the hard plastics have that advantage.

The interior is not all unrefined. The seats, even in the entry grade LT we tested, while cloth (and only available in Jet Black) are sculptured with bolsters and finished with a textured pattern that looks and feels great.

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.

The Acadia’s practicality game is strong. It boasts seven seats with third row positions actually able to fit adults, five USB ports sprinkled through the cabin, and a cargo capacity of 1042 litres with the third-row seats folded flat and 292 litres with them in place. If you have three kids, even teenagers, the Acadia could be the perfect family personnel carrier for you.

All three rows are spacious and even at 191cm tall I had good shoulder and elbow room up front, and in the second and third rows I had enough legroom to sit in each seat behind my seating position without feeling cramped.

Feeling a bit down because you might not be able to stretch the budget to get the LTZ-V? Well, cheer up – the LT has more headroom and that’s because it doesn’t get the sunroof which eats into the ceiling height.

Cabin storage is excellent. There’s a wide and deep centre console bin, a hidey hole in front of the shifter, a tray for second row passengers, six cup holders (two in each row) and decent-sized door pockets.

Directional air vents for everybody on board, three-zone climate control, two 12-volt power outlets, privacy glass and proximity unlocking complete a great practicality package.

The front-wheel drive Acadia LT lists for $43,490, which is $4500 less than the all-wheel drive version.

The standard features list includes 18-inch alloy wheels, roof rails, LED running lights, three-zone climate control, proximity key, rear parking sensors, Bluetooth connectivity, six-speaker stereo, 8.0-inch screen with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, noise cancellation, dual chrome exhaust tips, privacy glass and cloth seats.

The value is pretty darn good here and you’re not missing out on much by not stepping up to the $10K more LTZ grade, apart from wireless charging, and power and heated leather front seats.

The Acadia costs about the same as the Pathfinder ST but is better value; about $500 more than the entry grade Kia Sorento Si; but undercuts Mazda’s CX-9 Sport by about $3K.

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 Acadias come with a 3.6-litre V6 petrol engine which makes big dollops of power and torque or 231kW (at 6600rpm) and 367Nm (at 5000rpm).

A nine-speed automatic swaps gears, and in the case of our two-wheel drive LT test car the drive went to the front wheels only.

The V6 gets the thumbs up for its stop-start fuel saving system and cylinder deactivation, plus good acceleration and the smooth power delivery you’d associate with a naturally aspirated engine, but a thumbs down for needing to rev hard to make that mumbo.

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.

We were surprised by the Acadia’s fuel efficiency. After filling up the tank I drove for 136.9km on a combination of hilly country roads and peak hour evening city traffic and then filled up again – only 13.98 litres were used. That’s a mileage of 10.2L/100km. The official combined consumption figure is 8.9L/100km.

So, while the engine is big and not particularly new (it’s an evolution of the V6 built by Holden in Australia for the Commodore) it does have fuel-saving tech like cylinder deactivation and a stop-start system – which you can’t switch off.

Still, not the most fuel-efficient seven-seater – those with turbos and smaller capacity engines such as Mazda CX-9 are truly amazing in the way they can deliver grunt without getting thirsty.

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.

I drove the Holden Acadia back-to-back with the Nissan Pathfinder – you can watch the model comparison in the video above, but the upshot of that experience was important.

See, while I wasn’t a major fan of the Acadia driving experience when I first met the SUV at its Australian launch in 2018, when I drove it straight after the Pathfinder the difference was like night and day.

The Acadia is comfortable, from the big seats to the smooth ride. If you’re covering a stack of territory the Acadia makes a great highways cruiser and will chomp up big distances  effortlessly.

That V6 does need to rev hard, but it’s powerful and acceleration is swift, while the nine-speed automatic shifts pretty seamlessly. Noise cancelling tech keeps the cabin fairly serene, too.

Look, it’s not the most dynamic of SUVs and there was a bit of tyre chirp in the corners when pushed, but this isn’t a performance car and nor is it trying to be.

Small windows mean a cooler, tough look, but the downside is a dark cabin and occasionally visibility is limited by the A-pillars or out the rear windows.

A 2000kg braked towing capacity will rule the Acadia out for many thinking of pulling a large caravan or big boat. The Pathfinder’s 2700kg braked towing capacity is a strength of that SUV.

Do you need all-wheel drive? Nope, but it’s handy for dirt and gravel roads. Still the 198mm ground clearance with only front-wheel drive should see you get down bumpy roads that regular sedans couldn’t handle.

The Acadia was given a maximum five-star ANCAP rating when it was tested in 2018 and even the entry-level LT we tested is equipped with an outstanding amount of advanced safety equipment.

Standard on the LT is AEB with pedestrian and cyclist detection, lane keeping assistance with lane departure warning, lateral impact avoidance, blind spot monitoring, rear cross traffic alert, adaptive cruise control, traffic sign recognition, rear seat passenger reminder and airbags which extend all the way to cover the third row.

Now, you should know the driver’s seat vibrates if your parking sensors detect you coming close to an object. Yup, it’s weird. If that’s not your thing you can go into the screen’s menu and change that to an audible ‘beep’. I’m more a ‘beep’ kind of driver.

A space-saver spare wheel is under the boot floor and I’d advise you to familiarise yourself with how to access it (it’s a bit tricky) in daylight before (or if ever) you’ll need to use it for real.

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.

The Acadia is covered by Holden’s five year/unlimited kilometre warranty.

Servicing is recommended every 12 months or 12,000km. Expect to pay $259 for the first service, $299 for the second, $259 for the third, $359 for the fourth and $359 again for the fifth.