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…
So, you’re after an affordable alternative to the increasingly expensive Toyota HiLux and Ford Ranger. You need it to be tough enough for work, but also big and comfortable enough to haul family every now and again.
It’s a common predicament, and one that's increasingly served by Chinese and Korean alternatives.
Today, we’re looking at LDV’s latest effort - the T60 Max Plus. While it looks like just another new variant from the outside, it’s hiding some significant changes underneath, and it takes its place at the top of the T60 range in 2024.
Could it be the right ute to fit your budget? Let’s take a look.
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 Max Plus brings a lot of welcome upgrades to the T60 range, particularly in its previously non-existent active safety suite, but it’s not all good news. There are still a few areas where this ageing ute could use a lot of polish.
Still, there’s something to be said for how refreshingly straightforward much of it is, and for the most part its specs and features are up to the task of competing with many more expensive alternatives.
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.
The T60 Max Plus takes the visage of a factory-kitted version of the existing T60 Plus. The most notable difference this time around is the unique gloss black grille design which features a new spot to hide the front radar array for the safety suite, alongside new gloss wheel designs and that huge sports bar fitting atop the tray.
To my eye at least the T60 looks a fair bit more rugged and industrial than most of its rivals, which with every iteration are looking more like passenger vehicles than work-ready utes. Still, there’s an aggressiveness to its contrast black trims and tall ride height which may appeal to some. For others it will be more function-over-form, with less bumper overhang than something like the SsangYong Musso and there’s something to be said for that, too, I suppose.
Inside is where this Max Plus version sets itself apart from the rest of the range with its abundance of screen real-estate, upgraded materials, and an almost EV-like centre console treatment.
It’s certainly more digital-feeling and contemporary than the rest of the T60 range, but it might lose some of the simple but rugged appeal of its interior as a result.
The screens look pretty slick, especially when you’re using phone mirroring to hide the otherwise clumsy stock software suite. It’s one thing to have nice big screens, it’s quite another to have slick, attractive, and customisable software to match.
Sadly, that’s not the case for the Max Plus, which offers one lacklustre look and feel for the dash cluster, paired with an array of confusing menus on the multimedia screen.
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.
There are some benefits of the new interior design, and there are some disappointments too. These begin with the seating position, which is still miles off the ground in its lowest setting. This might give you a commanding view of the road, which has benefits, but it also makes you feel like you’re sitting on the T60 rather than in it.
The steering wheel is also only pitch adjustable rather than also offering telescopic adjustment, and even then its range of movement is extremely limited. For me, at 182cm tall, this meant the wheel blocked the top of the digital instruments, and I also felt like I was far too close to the roof. It’s an awkward seating position to say the least.
However, the new cabin layout has quite a bit of storage to play with. There are functional bottle holders and pockets in the doors, a decent glove box, and the new centre console offers a huge tray underneath with a removable dual cup holder insert, which also has two little cutaways for storing your keys. This area also hides some USB ports and a 12-volt outlet, for a nice cable-free interior if need be. The armrest console box offers even more space, and the wireless phone charger perched atop the console area is a welcome touch.
Less impressive is the strip of touch-based controls for the climate which sits underneath the multimedia screen. At least it has some controls which don’t require a screen sub-menu to navigate, but it simply doesn’t compare to having actual buttons and dials.
The most puzzling part of this equation is the lack of physical controls of any kind for the headlights, and no way for the passenger to adjust volume without needing to go one or two sub-menus deep. Inconvenient at best, potentially dangerously distracting at worst.
Again, some rivals get an edge here. The Musso’s multimedia suite looks comparatively old, but has heaps of physical buttons, while the GWM Ute Cannon splits the difference, maintaining buttons but gaining confusing menus. Both are better to use than the T60.
The back seat came as a surprise, as it offers pretty decent legroom for a full-sized adult, something quite rare in this ute segment. It also offers pockets on the backs of both front seats, dual adjustable air vents and a USB port on the back of the centre console, two small bottle holders in the doors, and a further two in a centre drop-down armrest. Underneath the seats there’s access points to small storage areas below.
The tray area seems reasonably well appointed with a pre-applied spray-in tub liner and four tie-down points at the extremes of the bed. The tub dimensions come in at 1485mm long, 1131mm wide (between the arches), and 530mm tall for the standard version. The Mega Tub variant extends the length to 1800mm. Payload for the tray is 840kg for the manual, 830kg for the auto, and 800kg for the Mega Tub.
Interestingly, despite its new coil-sprung rear, the T60 Max Plus maintains its 3000kg braked towing capacity, which isn’t the 3500kg industry standard, but is pretty close.
These specs mean the standard tray version is slightly larger than the Ssangyong Musso with a slightly higher payload, although it can tow 500kg less. It has a lower payload and a smaller tray than the GWM Ute, although it can tow about the same amount.
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 T60 Max Plus is the new top-spec version of one of Australia’s most affordable new utes. From the outside it looks very similar to the Max Luxe which sits below it, but hides re-worked suspension, an overhauled interior, and some extra safety kit behind its tweaked grille.
It also continues to be available as a manual at $48,411, an automatic at $50,516 and as an extended ‘Mega Tub’ version at $52,092. LDV deals in drive-away pricing, and you’ll note these prices are roughly equivalent to low-grade versions of the industry leading utes like the Ford Ranger and Toyota HiLux.
The T60 is more likely, however, to compete with other low-cost ute options, like the GWM Ute Cannon also from China (from $52,990 in equivalent XSR form) or the SsangYong Musso from Korea (from $49,500 in equivalent Ultimate form).
Standard equipment is reasonably impressive, with 18-inch gloss black alloys, LED headlights, a sports bar out the rear, spray-in tub liner, a locking tailgate (for the first time), and an abundance of gloss black highlight trims to separate it from lesser models in the range.
On the inside the highlight of the overhauled design is the dual 12.3-inch screens which make up a dash-spanning digital suite. It comes with new-ish software which looks the part at a distance, although I was a little dismayed to discover it had limited functionality, only one ugly theme for the dash cluster, and minimal customisation.
You also score (very) synthetic leather seat trim with power adjust for the driver and front passenger, and an expanded array of soft-touch surfaces throughout. It looks modern and plush from a distance, but feels less impressive once you’re actually inside.
If you want a ute which does a better job of feeling more like a luxurious passenger car, the SsangYong Musso leans into this aspect harder, and if you want something that's bit more accessorised for the rough stuff the GWM Cannon XSR looks more the part. Ultimately it feels as though this new top-spec T60 is left in something of an awkward middle ground between the two.
Of course, the new safety equipment and suspension do add something to the T60 formula, but we’ll talk more about these later in the review.
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.
The T60 Max range lays claim to one of the most powerful 2.0-litre four-cylinder diesel engines - a bi-turbo unit producing 160kW/500Nm with peak torque arriving from 1500rpm.
It is mated to either a six-speed manual, or an eight-speed ZF-sourced torque converter automatic transmission.
It has a 2H, 4H, and 4L selector (alongside an automatic setting for the Plus Max), and is equipped with a rear differential locker (which can only operate below 30km/h).
For those looking to venture well beyond the tarmac the T60 Max Plus has a 27-degree approach angle, a 24-degree departure angle, 220mm of ground clearance, and a 19-degree rampover angle. Wading depth is 550mm, and it has a 12.7-meter kerb-to-kerb turning circle.
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.
The official combined fuel consumption of the diesel-only Max Plus is 9.3L/100km for the manual or 8.9L/100km for the automatic.
With over 500km of testing with plenty of freeway miles, our automatic example produced an as-tested number of 9.3L/100km.
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.
The T60 Max Plus has improved the formula in a few ways, but still feels a bit rudimentary in others.
The awkward seating position does provide quite a commanding view of the road, and makes it easy to gauge where the end of the bonnet is. This is useful parking in a city, but will also have benefits off the road. The 360-degree camera suite also helps with this manoeuvrability.
Interestingly the steering is quite good. This Max Plus is the only variant to score a fully electric power steering rack, as opposed to the lesser power assisted steering rack. It’s initially alarmingly light, but it also makes the T60 a breeze to steer unlike some utes in this class, and I was surprised to find it still had a sufficient amount of feel to give it confidence in the corners.
Yes, this is one of the most powerful 2.0-litre diesels, but it doesn’t feel particularly overwhelming to drive. The transmission, too, despite the brand bragging about its ZF sourcing, feels a bit transparent and rudimentary lumping through the gears with a degree of clumsiness. Still, it’s predictable and does what it says on the tin.
The same goes for the 4H and even ‘automatic’ 4x4 settings, which I found was surprisingly quick to activate if you started slipping on mud or wet tarmac.
Another less than impressive trait is the amount of sound produced. Supposedly this Pro Max version has additional sound deadening over the other variants, and yet the clatter of the diesel engine proved a constant in the cabin at freeway speeds or any time you needed to accelerate hard.
This particular version of the T60 should also feature an improved ride compared to its relations thanks to swapping the leaf sprung rear suspension out for coils, but I was surprised to find it was still quite stiff. No doubt this inherent hardness is down maintaining the same towing capacity. It makes it a bit jiggly when you drive it over the regular sort of road imperfections and corrugations. One wonders what the point of having coil spring suspension is at all if it’s going to feel more or less the same as leaf sprung alternatives.
One area that was particularly pleasing to me was the way the new active safety equipment wasn't overly invasive. There were a few moments where the lane keep tech intervened a bit too hard, but it’s pretty hands off as far as the rest of the systems go.
Overall then it does what it says on the tin, and is surprisingly easy to steer, although it doesn’t really excel at anything, which can be a hard sell in an environment where many utes are more passenger car like than ever.
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.
Perhaps one of the biggest pieces of new equipment on the T60 Max Plus is the more competitive array of safety equipment than before. It includes auto emergency braking, lane keep assist with lane departure warning, and adaptive cruise control. It also gains a set of front parking sensors to add to its 360-degree parking camera suite.
Technically the LDV T60 range maintains a maximum five-star ANCAP rating, but it dates back to 2017 and is thus about to expire. It has a total of six airbags, consisting of dual front, side, and curtain.
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.
LDV continues to have a confusing array of ownership terms across its range. In the case of the T60, it’s seven years and 200,000km, with five years of roadside assist.
It is also one of the only brands on the market not offering any kind of capped-price service program, so it’s a mystery how much it will cost to run. Servicing is required once every 12 months or 15,000km.