LDV D90 vs Toyota C-HR

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.

There’s not much in terms of practicalities that are going to convince you the C-HR is a better option than Toyota’s other small SUV, the Corolla Cross.

Even other ‘stylish’ small SUVs like the Mazda CX-30, fuel savers like the electric MG ZS EV, or performance small SUVs like the Hyundai Kona N are more affordable than the GR Sport version of the C-HR.

In the case of this car, unlike most of its Toyota stablemates, buyers will likely be making a decision from the heart based on exterior styling and its interior rather than value or practicality.

And who would anyone be to tell you not to buy a car you like for its styling?

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.

There’s a fair bit going on here compared to most of Toyota’s other products, much like the first generation, but being designed with Europe as the key market and Australia as a secondary means the styling team needed to take on some fairly fashionable brands.

All three variants of the C-HR are relatively close in aesthetics, with major differences being two-tone paint or specific trim elements for the top-spec GR Sport.

It uses new Toyota design elements that have been seen on some models already, the ‘c-shape’ lights have been used on the new Prius, which we no longer get in Australia, for example.

The black roof was also available on the previous generation, where this car has carried over the ‘egg-like’ silhouette from.

The overall relatively aquatic styling and shape must be for aerodynamic advantage - its chief engineer told us the drag coefficient is just 0.318Cd - but the removal of the rear wiper to lower drag might have been unnecessary for a city-focused small SUV.

The cabin isn’t as wild as the outside, which may be a let-down in some ways, though it’s still a little more visually interesting than its more mainstream stablemates.

The 64-colour ambient lighting changes based on settings including time of day or drive mode, but can be set to a specific single colour if you wish.

The centre stack on the dash is gently angled towards the driver with a small separation between it and the passenger, creating a slight ‘cockpit’ feeling.

Seats are made from different materials depending on the grade, though no real leather is used even in the GR Sport, where synthetic suede and leather are the main upholstery.

The cloth textiles are made from entirely recycled materials, while the synthetic suede is made from a little less than half recycled materials.

They don’t look cheap, but they also don’t look particularly luxurious.

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.

When it comes to interior layout and ergonomics, there’s never much to criticise in a Toyota, unless playing it safe is a downside for you.

The buttons you’re most likely to use regularly, across the climate control, centre console and steering wheel, are all very obvious and easy to find, if a little uninspiring, as is wheel design itself - form definitely doesn’t sacrifice function here.

Welcome are the two large screens, the multimedia touchscreen a large 12.3-inch unit and the driver display either 7.0-inch or another 12.3-inch version depending on variant.

Toyota’s software is simple and accessible, using a few main menu sections, though many will likely bypass this with wireless phone mirroring.

Everything’s in a sensible place: a tall bottle in the cupholders won’t block access to anything, the phone charging pad is tucked away to minimise distraction, and Toyota has kept things like the gear selector and stalks behind the steering wheel relatively traditional.

While the interior feels a little dated by its many buttons and some of its simple graphics, there’s certainly something to be said for a welcome change from distracting screens and menus - if the aim was to not exclude Toyota’s older market, it seems like mission accomplished.

In terms of comfort and space, the C-HR makes pretty good use of its interior from the front, the seats are relatively comfortable and visibility is fine, though the back seat starts to feel a bit cramped.

While cupholders and door bottle storage is plentiful in the front, there’s no armrest and no bottle storage in the rear, only relatively shallow cupholders on the armrests in the doors.

Visibility is also relatively poor with high windows, a narrow rear window, and not a lot of light unless there’s a sunroof.

Behind that, with the seats up, the C-HR’s boot has a claimed VDA capacity of 388 litres in the GXL and Koba, or 362L in the GR Sport. Total volume with the seats down is 1154L and 1490L respectively.

While a Corolla Cross starts at $33,980 before on-roads, or $36,480 for a hybrid, the C-HR is just under $43K in its lowest spec.

And even though you’re paying more for a new hybrid drivetrain and some fun Euro styling, the Corolla Cross’ drivetrain isn’t far behind, and it still looks good enough to sell quite well.

So what’s the C-HR got going for it that the Cross doesn’t?

The base GXL starts from $42,990 plus on-road costs and comes with a bit more than you might expect from a base variant Toyota.

A 12.3-inch touchscreen, a 7.0-inch driver display and wireless Android Auto and Apple CarPlay have things covered for multimedia, while dual-zone climate, keyless entry and start, rain-sensing wipers, and USB-C and 12-volt ports and chargers cover off convenience.

The GXL has manually adjustable seats with recycled fabric - which I’ll come back to later - plus a synthetic leather-accented steering wheel.

The Koba, at $49,990, scores heated sports seats with synthetic suede trim, plus power adjustment for the driver seat and a digital rearview mirror as well as cabin ionisation via the climate control.

A wireless smartphone charger, a head-up display above a larger 12.3-inch driver display, plus adaptive high-beam all add to the convenience, while a nine-speaker JBL sound system and 64-colour ambient lighting add to the vibes.

Atop the range is the GR Sport, which starts from $54,990.

As well as being more powerful - we’ll come back to that, too - it gets unique styling outside, plus synthetic leather-accented and suede seats inside, aluminium scuff plates, and a heated GR Sport steering wheel.

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 difference in boot space is likely because the hybrid-only C-HR comes with two drivetrain options, depending on which variant you have.

The GXL and Koba both use Toyota’s 1.8-litre four-cylinder engine aided by a front-mounted electric motor to produce a 103kW output at the front wheels via a continuously variable transmission.

The GR Sport, however, gains a rear electric motor (taking up some boot space) and a more powerful front motor, helping a larger 2.0-litre four-cylinder petrol engine make a total 146kW - still via a CVT.

Don’t expect to be getting to 100km/h from a standstill in any less than 8.0 seconds in either variant, but both have a claimed top speed of 170km/h.

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.

Toyota says the C-HR uses just 4.0L/100km on the combined cycle test, which is 0.3L less than the previous generation’s claim, but it should be noted the 2.0-litre in the GR Sport drinks a claimed 4.1L/100km.

During testing on the launch drive, but without being able to measure properly from fill to fill, one quite spirited leg of driving netted a 6.9L/100km reading on the trip computer, while a more sedate drive returned 5.4L/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.

There’s nothing particularly offensive about the way the new C-HR drives, but there’s nothing riveting either.

If you’ve driven anything on the Toyota TNGA platform, this will feel familiar to you - and that’s not a bad thing, it’s generally pretty stable, comfortable and controlled.

The modified Corolla platform it rides on is a very good thing, but the C-HR doesn’t have anything in the way of sporting tendencies its styling might suggest.

The hybrid drivetrain in the two 1.8-litre versions of the small SUV don’t offer up a whole lot in terms of keen acceleration, but even the GR Sport and its 146kW drivetrain need a push to get things feeling properly quick on a twisty road.

The added stability of the all-wheel drive in the top variant is noticeable, the front-drive variants feeling a little less planted when pushed.

Steering is on the slightly lighter side of still being well-weighted - it doesn’t wow, but Toyota’s engineers know what they’re doing and it does everything it needs to in terms of communicating feeling to the driver.

Some particularly rough roads on the test drive showed the suspension to handle short, sharp bumps well and not feel crashy over larger imperfections.

The suspension has been retuned in this TNGA-C platform to be stiffer for more control but also more compliant in terms of comfort.

But it’s around urban and suburban streets where the C-HR will spend most of its time, and neglected streets, speed bumps, or tram lines won’t shake you too much from in the cabin.

All three variants of the C-HR come with a version of the Toyota Safety Sense suite of tech which includes things like pre-collision, active cruise control, speed limit sign assist, a surround-view parking camera, plus all the expected inclusions like ABS, blind-spot monitoring and rear cross-traffic alert.

The rear outboard seats are equipped with ISOFIX tethers, too, while the ADR-necessary top tethers are also present.

It hasn’t been tested by ANCAP, but in the case of a collision the C-HR does have a pretty decent airbag count of 10.

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.

Toyota has a five-year/unlimited-kilometre warranty which covers the C-HR, as well as capped-price servicing for the first five years or 75,000km, whichever comes first, with each 12-month/15,000km service costing $250.

The C-HR also comes with a 12-month subscription to Toyota Connected Services, with features accessible through the myToyota Connect smartphone app.