LDV D90 vs Rolls-Royce Cullinan

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 Cullinan might not be the most beautiful or traditional Rolls-Royce, and it’s a shame modern success means providing an SUV option to everyone, but it’s still a remarkable machine, either to drive or just to sit in. It remains not just a marvel of engineering, but a marvellous of engineering. Hats doffed, old bean.

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.

It is something of an achievement when a team of designers manage to make a facelifted version of a vehicle less ugly, daunting and disappointing than the original.

I thought the first Cullinan, launched five years ago, looked like a London black cab that had been mounted and inseminated by a double-decker bus. Big? Sure? Impressive? Yes. Beautiful? Only if you think Boris Johnson is sexy.

There was a lot of chat at the launch about the changes made for Series II, but in summary they tried to make it look more… like a boat, according to Exterior Design Lead Henry Clarke.

“We don’t look for speedy, overcomplicated lines, we take our inspiration from the luxury world, and it’s often from yachts, it’s that same sense of scale and grandeur, that’s the key to the timelessness of a Rolls-Royce,” he explained.

“We’re not focused on the world of automotive design, and if you look at the Cullinan it has that ethos you think of with a yacht, that strong, vital bow and then everything rearwards, the back of a yacht, has an elegance and grace to it.”

Fair enough, but what I appreciated was that they’ve squared the front end off a bit more, by outlining the grille, adding some gills beneath it and putting in some natty DRLs, and then rounded off the rear a little as well, so that it looks less… awful.

Indeed, after a couple of days of staring at it (and particularly admiring how good it looks in your rear-view mirror when behind you), I did come around to its looks. Certainly a lot more than last time.

And strangers driving past seemed to really like it, because they keep smiling and clapping at me. 

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.

In terms of being a vehicle you might actually use - and keeping in mind that if you can afford one of these you’ve also got at least a half dozen other choices - every day, the Cullinan is the pick of the Rolls-Royce enclosure.

From the big boot space - 600 litres with the seats up, 1930 litres with them down - and its lovely little Viewing Suite, through the spacious rear relaxing zone to the absurdly comfortable and plush front seats, there’s a sense of grandeur about the whole Cullinan experience.

You can opt for a champagne fridge between those rear seats, if you like, or you can just lie back and stare at the blinking pins of light in your 'Starlight Headliner' and imagine that each one of them represents one of your millions, smiling down at you.

It’s a lovely place to be, in short, and with its super-thick double glazed glass, coated with an acoustic layer on top of that, and carpets thick enough to keep out road noise on their own, it’s also a very pleasantly quiet one.

Value? Price? What are these things you speak of, little plebeian person? Such is the disdain for such things at Rolls-Royce that they wouldn’t even tell us what the Series II is going to cost when it lands in Australia later this year. 

The people who can afford one don’t much care, of course, but for the rest of us, who like to shake our heads and make low, whistling noises, you can bet the price will rise just a little from where it was with the original Cullinan - and that was $705,000 for the basic car, or closer to $795,000 for the sportier, and blacker, Black Badge variant.

In terms of value, it’s hard to grasp that any car could cost that much, but for a Rolls buyer the equation is very different. They don’t need a Rolls, no-one does, but it makes a nice change from buying art works, gold or small countries. 

In terms of features, it has almost too many to mention, but let’s pause on the marvellous massage seats, the bespoke sound system, entirely unique to this case and built by Rolls itself, with incredible levels of detail, the Rolls umbrellas tucked into each door and the very lovely 'Viewing Suite'.

This consists of two pop-up seats in the rear, with a little champagne and canapés table in between, where “you can watch your children play football”.

Try that in Australia, at the rugby league, and you’ll be covered in half-time oranges and abuse spittle in no time. Stick to the polo, perhaps.

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.

Rolls-Royce has committed to being a fully EV brand by 2030, so it’s a safe bet this Series II Cullinan will be the last one offered with its storming, staunch V12 engine. 

Indeed, Rolls hinted the only reason it hung around in this version is that this is only a mid-life face-lift for the Cullinan, and the car that replaces it will arrive on an entirely new, all-electric platform.

As good as the EV Roller, the Spectre undeniably is, driving this old-school Cullinan with its 6.75-litre twin-turbocharged V12 making the kind of thumping, torque-thick, nothing-is-too-much-trouble acceleration is a hoot.

It’s not loud, but it’s just loud enough that you can enjoy its deep, brassy tones, and it’s got plenty of power in reserve to hurl even this 2.75-tonne machine past lesser vehicles with ease.

There are two Cullinans to choose from, of course, with the base model providing a very pleasant 420kW and 850Nm or the sportier Black Badge version (Rolls calls it the brand’s “alter ego”) with 441kW and 900Nm. 

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.

Rolls-Royce claims the Cullinan will provide you with between 16 litres per 100km and 16.8L/100km, but I believe you’d have to drive it quite steadily to achieve even that quite appalling figure.

Twelve cylinders, 2.75 tonnes, you do the math, but it's interesting to note that with a nearly full tank - and we’re talking 100 litres of fuel - my distance to empty was looking like barely more than 500km - that’s an EV-like number.

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 first word that comes to mind when describing the experience of driving a Rolls-Royce the size of a small housing estate is 'intimidating', because it's one of those cars where you take a few deep breaths before setting off (while muttering “please don’t crash it”) and then some sharp intakes of breath the first few times you find cars coming towards you on a narrow road, of which there are many on Ibiza where we were summoned to drive it.

I followed a panicked young man from India who had never driven a Rolls, nor a left-hand-drive car before, and boy, he sure looked intimidated, even if he didn’t ever get above 30km/h.

The incredible thing about the Cullinan, however, is how quickly it relaxes you and how astonishingly light and easy it is to drive. The steering feels almost absurdly light at first, you really can drive it with just one finger, two if you’re feeling cautious, but once you get used to it it just feels very Rolls-Royce.

The whole brand lives on the idea of effortlessness, wafting over the world, and the much-touted 'Magic Carpet Ride', and it really does deliver that sense of ease. You’re almost as relaxed at the wheel as you are in the rear seat (and the massage functions only make you feel more so). 

Speed humps do upset the Cullinan, but only a very little, and you’re aware when the car finds broken surfaces, but only distantly so. It feels like someone is dealing with bumps and imperfections in a far-off-place, perhaps the car’s basement, and it shouldn’t worry you too much.

When traffic annoys you, you can just make it disappear by engaging your whumping V12 engine and making the world go briefly blurry. 

Attempt to throw the Cullinan through sharp bends at speed, however, and it reacts in much the same way you’d expect the cruise ship it somewhat resembles to.

There’s a bit of body roll, but it’s all quite polite and a sense that if you need to drive like that, perhaps you should go and get one of your other cars.

The Black Badge version does feel just a trifle sportier than the base Cullinan but we’re splitting very grey and expensively coiffed hairs here.

The overall experience is one of grand relaxation, imperiousness and a certain touch of superior glee.

The Rolls-Royce Cullinan SUV has not been ANCAP tested, but it feels safe because it’s bigger than a tank. It has eight airbags - driver, front passenger, two curtains, driver side, front passenger side, two rear passenger side), and a full-suite of active-safety tech including Forward Collision Warning and Automatic Emergency Braking. 

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.

Questions about service intervals and warranties seem to confuse the people at Rolls, as if none of their customers have ever bothered to ask.

Yes, you would think servicing would be free when you’re pushing a $1 million price tag, and that the warranty would be for life, particularly considering the low mileage on these things, but it is, in fact, just a four-year servicing and warranty offer for Australian customers of this vehicle. So that means an unlimited-mileage warranty, including all services, for the first four years (at which point you obviously buy a new one). "Rolls-Royce Motor Cars will offer a service inclusive package but no pricing available yet and this will not be required until the fifth year of ownership."