LDV D90 vs Nissan Navara

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.

While it won’t appeal on the value front as much as its Mitsubishi Triton engineering twin, the Navara’s tweaks from Premcar make it a more comfortable and livable thing. 

The extra cost is worth it for how much better it is on the road, plus you get more features, regardless.

Whether the changes to the Navara are sexy enough to get people in the dealership door is another question, but anyone who takes this over a Triton won’t be disappointed.

If it's for work, the SL or ST will do. If it's doubling as a family car, the Pro-4X is worth the outlay.

Note: CarsGuide attended this event as a guest of the manufacturer, with travel, accommodation and meals provided.

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.

Nissan has done well to inject its own design flavour into the ute, because even though there’s inevitable similarity in the silhouette, it doesn’t just look like a Triton.

Impressive given a lot of the car is the same, and Nissan couldn’t change any of the hard points the Triton comes with. In fact, the Navara’s dimensions are largely the same as the Triton, coming in at 5320mm long, 1930mm wide and 1815mm tall.

The biggest Nissan-specific design element is a nod to the Navara’s heritage, the three little vent lines above the grille hark back to the original D21 generation ute which had these holes in the bonnet.

It’s subjective to some extent, but I reckon the Navara has the Triton beat on the design front.

Depending on the variant, you get some other indicators that this is no Triton, including a sports bar on the rear of the cabin with ‘Navara’ cut into it, or Pro-4X decals if that’s the variant you go for.

Given the lifestyle and off-road focus of the Pro-4X, it also has a bit more trim inside and out to feel more rugged and premium.

The Navara’s new interior is a big step up over the previous generation, even if it is genuinely all-Triton in there. The biggest change is the Nissan badge on the steering wheel.

It’s a ute, so there’s still a lot of plastic, cheap materials and even the nicer looking surfaces are in a few spots made of gloss black plastic (sometimes called piano black) which gets smudged easily and after a short while.

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.

It’s a bit of a shame the Navara doesn’t benefit from the changes Nissan has been making to its interior design and layout recently, because it leaves older Nissans in the dust, in terms of design and ergonomics.

But, the Mitsubishi Triton’s interior isn’t a bad one for the Navara to have inherited, because it just works. It’s uncomplicated and sensible, if a little boring.

There are physical buttons for shortcuts, and the tech is relatively straightforward, even if it does also carry the downside of Android Auto being wired-only. It adds to the somewhat dated feeling the Navara’s interior carries, but the physical space itself is rather sensible.

The Navara’s seats are comfortable, and as the driver it’s easy to find your own preferred position, with the electric adjustment in higher variants being an extra help there.

The driving ergonomics and visibility are also good, which lines up well with the Navara’s driving dynamics and makes it feel less like you’re pedalling a big dual-cab around.

Behind the driver, there’s not heaps in the way of amenity, but the addition of USB ports once you’re past the base SL is welcome for second-row passengers, and the space isn’t cramped by any means.

The Navara has a tub capable of easily fitting a Euro pallet, according to Nissan’s specs, but with its distance of 1135mm between wheel arches, it won’t fit an Aussie pallet. The tub is almost square, at 1555mm long and 1545mm wide, and 525mm tall. 

Plus there’s the 3500kg towing capacity and its payload ranging between 964kg for the Pro-4X or up to 1064kg in the base SL.

The new D27 generation Navara starts from $53,348, before on-road costs, so it’s already more expensive than the Triton it’s based on, but we’ll get into the main, somewhat oily reasons for that in a bit. 

The Navara’s available in four variants at launch, SL, ST, ST-X and Pro-4X. They’re all 4X4 dual-cabs, so it’s mainly the features for each trim level that make the difference when it comes to pricing.

The SL starts off with a lot of the basics covered. There are LED headlights and tail-lights, climate control, the same 8.0-inch multimedia touchscreen as the rest of the range and digital radio as well as Android Auto and Apple CarPlay.

Its aforementioned touchscreen is also a little larger than the one in the Triton it’s based on. Then there’s the 7.0-inch driver display screen which lives between the two physical dials.

At this point in the range the steering wheel is polyurethane and the floors aren’t carpeted, just covered with vinyl. It’s a work ute and it feels like one.

Things pick up slightly with the ST, which starts from $56,765, and gains alloy wheels, auto-folding mirrors, a leather-accented steering wheel and floor carpet, plus now side-steps and a sports bar. It also adds USB ports in the second row for charging, so it’s probably the minimum grade you’d want if you’re ever going to have kids in the back. Essentially, it gains a few things that make it feel a little more livable without getting too fancy.

The ST-X is a fair step up in price, it’s $63,177, but gets better suspension, 18-inch alloys, leather-accented and heated front seats and a power adjustable driver's seat, dual-zone climate and a wireless phone charger.

It also gains a centre limited-slip differential, drive modes more compatible with off-roading, different styling elements and push-button start, so you don’t need to use the physical key.

The top-of-the-range (until the Warrior arrives) is the $68,418 Pro-4X with more design changes, all-terrain tyres, a black sports bar and roof rails, contrast stitching and specific seats with Pro-4X styling. It’s the variant Nissan Australia expects to be the most popular, too. It also has the same diff and better suspension the ST-X gains.

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.

A 150kW/470Nm four-cylinder turbo-diesel engine lies under the bonnet, which falls a little short of some rivals, but isn’t glaringly weak.

Its power lines up with, for example, the Toyota HiLux, but torque falls short of its rival’s 500Nm. It’s the same story for the Ranger, though that ute slips a nose ahead with 4.0kW more than HiLux and Navara in its four-cylinder guise.

The Navara’s six-speed automatic transmission also sends that power and torque to all four wheels, though how exactly it gets there depends on the spec and whether you have a centre differential or not.

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.

From the Navara’s 75L tank, a claimed 7.7L/100km is used on the combined (urban/extra-urban) cycle, though on the launch drive we saw the trip computer hovering around 9.0L/100km.

With a few hundred kilos in the tray, that jumped up to the low 11s.

Hypothetically, if you manage to get close to Nissan’s claimed consumption, you should be able to get more than 900km out of a single tank of diesel. Nissan’s claim isn’t too outrageous, either, considering the type of driving a car launch generally consists of isn’t normally conducive to favourable fuel consumption figures.

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.

Now we get to the biggest reason you’d consider a Navara over the Triton it’s based on.

While the Navara benefits from having a relatively new platform underneath it - thanks Mitsubishi - it’s still a ladder-frame dual-cab ute so expectations weren’t exactly on the floor, but they also weren’t sky-high.

And sure, a lot of the details about the new Navara aren’t groundbreaking, nor is much of the way it drives - but the changes Premcar has made to the suspension in this ute are well worth the extra outlay.

What Premcar has done with the Navara, on what we would guess is a relatively constrained budget, is find the most cost-effective way to make the ute better to drive.

They went with upgraded dampers which have been tuned to balance control and comfort with the ute’s off-road ability.

The result? A very controlled front-end, more communicative steering and confidence on the road to drive over even rough surfaces without fear of being flung off the road. Ladder-frame utes don't normally feel so controlled over rough surfaces at high speeds.

It’s worth noting that while the SL and ST still benefit from the suspension upgrades, the ST-X and Pro-4X in particular are much better to drive than you’d expect from a dual-cab ute.

Some of the roads around Canberra are particularly rough, even close to town where the speeds are lower, but the Navara handled myriad surfaces and conditions on- and off-road, in the soaking wet and when it was bone-dry.

Aside from one particular section of the launch that may have just been a little unkind to the ‘stiffer’ sidewalls on the ST-X compared to the Pro-4X, the Navara’s behaviour was not only confidence-building, but allowed for a degree of fun not normally present in the class.

The steering feel left no guesswork necessary, and there’s not a huge on-centre dead-spot as is often the case in a dual-cab. Nice and direct without being too heavy.

The Navara’s weak point, which still gets a pass mark, is probably that its drivetrain now feels older than the ute in which it lives. The outputs are passable, and the transmission finds the correct place well enough, but in a world of 10-speed autos in Rangers or petrol plug-in hybrids, a bog-standard turbo-diesel with six gears has to be bang-on perfect to keep up. 

The Navara’s is adequate, but once you’re used to it, the drive experience is a step above most in the ute segment in terms of control, something that’s hard to come by in this segment.

It translates well to off-roading, where the ute’s front-end settles very quickly over ridges and undulating surfaces without the harshness of a too-stiff set of dampers.

Unsealed roads feel easily dispatched even at relatively high speeds, and with the right tyres (a la Pro-4X) the Navara is a seriously capable thing.

If you find yourself the owner of a D27 Navara and never leave the bitumen, you’re missing out.

The new Navara inherits the Triton’s maximum five-star ANCAP rating from testing in 2024. It scored notably well in Child Occupant protection, though its score for Safety Assist isn’t as high as some rivals.

Eight airbags mean the Navara’s got occupants cushioned in case of the worst, while the whole range has the same suite of safety tech, including a surround-view camera, forward collision warning and AEB, front- and rear-cross traffic alert, driver monitoring and traffic sign recognition, front and rear parking sensors and trailer sway control.

The Navara’s driver monitoring, however, suffers the same overzealousness as the Triton. Nissan didn’t reprogram any of the ADAS systems which means the car will regularly accuse you of being distracted if you’re not looking directly at the road ahead. Checking mirrors or a map in the centre screen will trigger this.

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.

Nissan’s 10-year/300,000km warranty is fantastic but applies only if you service with Nissan. It’s five years with no kilometre limit otherwise. 

There’s five years' of flat-price servicing at $499 per visit, every 12-months or 15,000km, whichever comes first.

Roadside assist is also free for a decade if you service with Nissan, or a year otherwise.

Given there are around 180 Nissan dealers nationwide, finding one shouldn’t be a challenge.