What's the difference?
The LDV G10 arrived on the scene in the van segment a few years ago, with the aim of upsetting the equilibrium.
It was a budget-priced, Chinese-made mid-size van with its target set squarely on appealing to customers who might have wanted a HiAce, but couldn’t afford one.
After almost four-and-a-half years on the market in Australia, the LDV G10 is better than ever. It has seen new additions in the cabin, more comfortable seats, and still offers big value for money.
But with the van market moving forward at pace, does the LDV G10 offer appeal beyond the sticker price? We tested the diesel auto model to find out.
If you believe there should be a ute version of everything, Jeep has long been there for you with a tray-backed Gladiator version of its iconic Wrangler off-roader.
But the Gladiator has hardly attracted the same love as its mainstream ute rivals, preferring a more lifestyle-oriented vibe, which it leans into extra hard for this 2026 update.
While it might look pretty much identical from the outside, Jeep has made some pretty significant changes underneath to make it a better overall offering, with a nice reduction in price, too.
So is it now worth your consideration? Read on to find out.
The LDV G10 is a solid option for those buyers who just want a van that gets the job done. It was decent with weight on board, but is probably better suited to parcel carriers rather than pallet shifters.
Safety levels are the biggest concern, as it is falling behind in the class when it comes to active safety tech, and its weak crash test score could be enough to rule it out for some customers.
The Gladiator is far from the most practical, versatile, or sensible dual-cab on the market. Not going to lie, though. This is the most fun I’ve had in a ute in a long time.
The more you see LDV G10 vans, the more regular they look. Familiarity breeds ignorance, I guess, but I still think the G10 looks smart.
It isn’t quite as boxy as some, with its sleeker front-end styling and almost sedan-like tail-lights helping it stand out from the ‘box-on-wheels’ stigma. It gets 16-inch alloy wheels as standard, and has halogen headlights and misses out on daytime running lights.
But it still is a box on wheels, measuring 5168mm long (on a 3198mm wheelbase), 1980mm wide and 1928mm tall. That makes it a darn sight smaller than the new HiAce, which stepped up significantly in size, and about on par with a Renault Trafic SWB or Ford Transit Custom 300S SWB.
The perceived build quality is mostly okay, though our test car had a few loose plastics on the outside and a seemingly mis-fit windshield rubber.
Despite a legion of trendy retro-styled off-road pretenders, from the Ineos Grenadier to the GWM Tank 300, there’s nothing quite like the original Jeep style which the Gladiator shares with its Wrangler sibling. Unless you’re Mahindra which has technically been producing Willys Jeep successors for longer, but that’s another story for another time).
The new Rubicon looks a bit more swish in 2026, with the body coloured wheel arches and a tweaked grille which is now wider and shorter. The two-tone roof which was previously optional is now standard.
It looks rugged, tough, and undeniably classic, with the mud terrain tyres sealing the deal.
Of course, you can’t forget the many so-called ‘Easter eggs’ Jeep hides about the place. In the case of the Gladiator, these include a silhouette of a Willys Jeep climbing up the driver’s side windscreen, a gorilla imprint on the opposite side signifying the windscreen is now constructed from the same stuff designed to make your phone scratch-free. The tray features imprints of dirtbike tyres where you might want to strap two in and even the recirculate button on the climate unit is in the shape of a Wrangler. Nice touch.
On the inside generally, it feels like a purpose-built vehicle in much the same way as an old Defender. It leaves you with a sense of how genuine it all is, with loads of physical switchgear and an overall shape meant to replicate the no-nonsense appeal of Jeeps dating back to the Willys.
Those dimensions translate to a cargo space of 5.2 cubic metres, with a load space spanning 2500mm long, 1590mm wide (1270mm between the arches) and 1270mm tall. That mightn’t be big enough for you, and that’s too bad - there is no high roof version, nor a long-wheelbase model; but you could get an LDV V80 if you really need to step up in size… but we wouldn’t suggest you do that.
The payload for this model is 1010kg, which is decent but not benchmark-setting. It has a gross vehicle mass of 3000kg, meaning a kerb weight of 1990kg. The gross combination mass depends on the model: the GCM for diesel models is 5000kg for a braked trailer, while petrol models have a GCM of 4750kg for a braked trailer (auto) and 4500kg (manual). All models have a GCM of 3750kg for unbraked trailers.
The petrol versions have 1093kg of payload, if you prefer that fuel type. Interestingly, the manual versions have leaf spring rear suspension, while the auto models have coil springs as part of a five-link suspension architecture.
The load area has a six floor-mounted and four wall-mounted tie-down hooks, and the floor is lined with a vinyl covering while up to half-height the inner walls are lined, too. There are four lights mounted on the walls, which is handy for after-hours work.
And every LDV G10 comes with dual sliding side doors (some brands charge thousands more for this convenience), while the back door is a tailgate as standard, with the option of barn doors for diesel models.
For those who need to fork loads in, the barn doors are a no brainer, because the side door apertures (at 820mm wide) aren’t broad enough to load in using a lift. The tailgate also makes it very difficult to load weight in, as we found on test, as our mates at Crown Lifts had to use long tines to fork in our 750kg ballast.
When it comes to creature comforts up front, there is a pair of low-mounted pop-out cupholders, and an open storage area between the seats. There isn’t much covered storage, so if you often carry valuables, you may need to keep that in mind.
The seats are comfortable and offer good adjustment, and they’ve been changed since the diesel auto model launched. They’re no longer a cheap-feeling fabric, but rather a faux-leather accented, mesh-lined set of seats, and both have armrests. Nice.
The presentation is okay, but the ergonomics could be better. The touchscreen is mounted down lower than most, and means you may need to take your eyes away from the road because the controls are down even lower. And the USB? Near the floor.
That screen is still a 7.0-inch display, but now has the same software system as the newer models in the LDV range. That means a nice crisp colourful display with the added advantage of Apple CarPlay… if you can get it to work. We had a few issues when reconnecting a phone without re-starting the car.
However, also like an old Defender, the Gladiator’s interior is full of compromises to maintain its iconic design.
The seating position is awkwardly high, which is fine when off-roading, but can be limiting when you’re just driving around a city, and the footwell is half taken up by a transmission tunnel so there’s nowhere to rest your foot.
The door cards are pretty basic because the doors are removable (although Jeep stresses this is only legal on private property), but elsewhere there’s much-appreciated levels of functionality in an era of touch-based controls.
The centre control panel, for example, features physical dials for high-use functions and toggles or buttons for everything else. It’s mercifully easy to use and old-school motorists will also love the physical shifters for gear selection and the transfer case alongside. And an analogue handbrake is an increasingly rare sight.
There are even buttons we didn’t ask for, like the four pre-wired auxiliary switches, and while the dash trades away a fully digital panel for a digital supervision screen with analogue dials either side, it suits the character of the car.
It’s not the most comfortable space to be in, however. Not only is the seat base super high off the ground, but despite the Gladiator’s imposing dimensions the front seat somehow feels narrow.
Storage is okay, but not on the same level as many rival utes. The basic doors score nettings on each side, with two deep and useful bottle holders in the centre console. The armrest box is two-tiered which is handy, and there’s a small glove box. Outside of this, there’s not a lot of storage up front.
The rear seat is decent when it comes to space for the ute segment, although it is also very high off the ground and hard to clamber into thanks to the way the rear door is shaped. Once you’re in there, be sure not to smack your head on the frame, which seems like it could be an easy thing to do.
Again, nets feature in the doors, with two more nets on the backs of the front seats, which also feature luggage hooks. There are dual adjustable air vents back there and two bottle holders moulded out of the centre console. They're nicely-sized, but will eat into the legroom of any adult you want to put in the centre rear position, making it extra cramped if you have three across.
The back seat features some things I’ve never seen before, though. There’s a huge storage area underneath the seats with its own lid, and some limited storage space behind the seat backs which features a removable Bluetooth speaker which also automatically re-charges when it’s docked back there. Cool.
The rear window features an opening port, which is also rare, while all the main storage compartments are lockable for when you want to leave the car with the roof and/or doors off.
Capacities and payloads have never been a strong point for the Gladiator. The tray measures 1531mm long, 1443mm wide and 1137mm between the arches, making it unable to fit a standard-sized Australian pallet. The payload is also limited at just 693kg, far short of the close-to-one-tonne many work-focused dual-cabs can hit.
However the tray isn’t for show only, featuring an array of useful tie-down points and a built-in rail system to help secure all sorts of objects. There are even steps built into the rear bumper design for easier access and a full-size spare wheel underneath.
The braked trailer towing capacity is limited to just 2721kg which is also short of the industry benchmark 3500kg, all of which may limit its use as a work vehicle, or even its appeal as a touring vehicle. I could see how these capacities are easily exceeded with a rooftop tent, recovery gear, a fridge, supplies and at least one passenger.
If you’re buying an LDV G10, it’s because of the price. The cost of the diesel automatic model we’ve got is usually $32,490 drive-away for ABN holders, but there are promotions running listing it at $29,990 drive-away for ABN holders at the time of writing. If you’re not an ABN holder, just get one, because you’ll save heaps (the G10 diesel auto is $34,147 drive-away for non-ABN holders).
You can get other vans for around this money - the Renault Trafic Trader Life manual, with its gutless 66kW turbo-diesel engine, is $30,990 d/a. But you won’t find a diesel Hyundai iLoad, Peugeot Partner or Toyota HiAce within $10,000 of the LDV.
As for standard spec, you get 16-inch alloy wheels, tyre pressure monitoring, climate control air-conditioning, a 7.0-inch touchscreen with USB connectivity, Apple CarPlay, Bluetooth phone and audio streaming, CD player and AM/FM radio, a digital speedometer, two part fake-leather seats with arm-rests (driver’s side with height adjust), carpet flooring up front, and vinyl floor protective liner in the rear, and a reversing camera.
Standard body fit out is dual sliding side doors and a lift tailgate, though you can get barn doors fitted on diesel models. Unlike some competitors, there is no option for glazing in the rear doors or side panels.
There are also no auto headlights, no auto wipers, push-button start, keyless entry, leather-lined steering wheel, reach adjustment for the steering, and there’s quite a bit missing in the safety section of this review - see below.
For this update, the Gladiator has been trimmed down to just one variant, the fully-loaded, top-spec Rubicon.
While the lesser Night Eagle grade has been discontinued, the good news is the Rubicon is now more affordable, starting at $82,990, before on-road costs. Although this still pitches it against only the most expensive mainstream dual cabs.
At this price, for example, you could pick a Ford Ranger in luxury Platinum or sporty Wildtrak form, or even as a plug-in hybrid. However, this car’s classic vibe and purpose-built feel, with a big six-cylinder petrol engine, is more reminiscent of the Ineos Grenadier Quartermaster, which wears a price tag well in excess of $100,000.
While it might be a pricey ute, the Gladiator Rubicon comes with all the gear plus extra stuff for this update, including new 17-inch two-tone wheel designs clad in pricey BF Goodrich mud terrain tyres, Nappa leather seats and a more powerful standard alternator with pre-wired auxiliary switches.
There are also body-coloured fender flares replacing the previous black plastic ones, 12-way power adjust and heating for the front seats, extended soft-touch materials throughout the cabin, a much larger and better-specified 12.3-inch multimedia touchscreen (with built-in nav) as well as wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto connectivity. In addition, the LED headlights have picked up an auto high-beam function and the spray-in bedliner for the tray is now standard.
Standard overlanding kit includes the brand’s signature 'Roc-Trac' on-demand 4x4 system, which includes front and rear differential locks, an electronic sway bar disconnect (pretty rare), manually selectable low-range gearing (with a 4:1 ratio), as well as additional underbody protection and rock-slider side steps.
Not enough? This is the only ute on sale in Australia where you can remove the roof and pop the windscreen flat for a full-on Barbie (or maybe Ken) Power Wheels vibe.
Under the bonnet of the diesel G10 is a 1.9-litre four-cylinder turbo-diesel with 106kW of power and 350Nm of torque. There’s the choice of a six-speed manual or six-speed automatic, and the G10 is rear-wheel drive. It has a diesel particulate filter, but not stop-start or AdBlue.
Prefer petrol? There’s a 2.4-litre five-speed manual model (105kW/200Nm) or a 2.0-litre turbocharged six-speed auto (165kW/330Nm). Those models are cheaper - $25,990 for the manual for ABN holders, while the turbo-petrol auto is $30,990 d/a.
There’s a relatively massive 3.6-litre non-turbo, non-hybrid ‘Pentastar’ petrol V6 engine under the bonnet, producing 209kW/347Nm.
Sounds old-school because it is, and it remains the only option for this machine in Australia despite emissions regulations closing in and a 2.0-litre four-cylinder turbocharged engine available in the current Wrangler and overseas versions of the Gladiator.
The V6 is mated to a predictable ZF-sourced eight-speed (torque converter) automatic transmission and drives either the rear- or all four wheels depending on the mode selected.
The combined cycle fuel use claim for the LDV G10 diesel auto is 8.6 litres per 100 kilometres. The manual version uses 8.3L/100km according to the brand.
On test we saw a fuel use return of 9.7L/100km at the pump, across a mix of urban, highway and freeway driving, with and without a load.
Petrol models use a claimed 11.5L (manual) and 11.7L (auto) per hundred.
As you might imagine, the large naturally aspirated petrol engine combines with the over 2.0-tonne Gladiator to make for a relatively steep fuel bill.
Consumption is a hardly-impressive 12.4L/100km on the official combined (urban/extra-urban) cycle, with our car consuming even more - 12.9L/100km - on our three day test covering nearly 500km and with no shortage of freeway time either.
Brim the 83-litre tank and theoretical range is around 670km, dropping to just over 640km using our on-test figure.
You probably wouldn’t choose an LDV G10 as a daily driver if you didn’t intend to use the cargo zone at least 80 per cent of the time.
But if - for whatever reason - you really want to use a van like this on a day-to-day basis, you won’t hate it.
The G10 drives pretty nicely for this type of vehicle. It isn’t as bouncy when unladen as some of the other vans out there, with the suspension proving very quick to settle and mostly very compliant across mixed surfaces.
The steering wheel can jostle a bit over sharp edges, but it steers well, with decent (not too heavy) weighting and predictable response at all speeds.
Without weight on board the engine feels reasonably urgent in its response, which is a bit of a surprise because it’s not a powerhouse based on its outputs. It revs smoothly and pulls with good strength, with little turbo lag to contend with. While it is a bit of a grumbly engine at times, the response is better than adequate.
Plus the transmission is well sorted, with smooth shifts that are predictable.
The braking response is definitely better without weight on board, with a decent progression to the pedal and decent bite when you press hard on the anchors.
The Gladiator is interesting to drive for many reasons. Mainly, because as a purpose-built off-roader it's a little compromised when it comes to on-road manners.
For example, the high seating position and tapered bonnet shape might be great for visibility off-road, but the boxy design of the chunky A-pillars (designed to keep the car in one piece when the doors roof and windscreen are removed) make it a little difficult to see properly around corners at T-junctions or roundabouts in the confines of a city.
Even proximity of my head to the roof presented a problem when trying to see whether traffic was coming at an intersection with the vehicle angled downhill.
The next alarming trait is how vague the steering is while on the tarmac. It’s an unfortunate characteristic of the Gladiator’s rugged live front axle, making this ute a bit of a handful to steer at low speeds. And it tracks all over the place on the freeway, requiring constant vigilance and steering input from the driver at higher speeds.
It’s also noisy, despite this 2026 version featuring extended sound deadening in the cabin. It needed it. The knobbly mud terrain tyres make their presence felt through a resonant droning entering the cabin at all speeds.
Then, at freeway pace, the wind noise from the Gladiator’s blocky shape picks up. You can feel the sound waves leaking in through the removable doors and plasticky removable roof. There are even silly things like being able to feel reverberations of the sound system through the accelerator pedal.
So, I should hate the Gladiator, right?
Wrong.
This thing is ridiculous amounts of old-fashioned fun. The V6 engine is keen to rev and the transmission lets you ride the gears out, creating a throaty roar and lurching acceleration reminiscent of old Commodores.
While the mud terrain rubber is noisy and offers questionable levels of grip on tarmac or in the wet, the thick sidewall combines with coil springs and chunky Tenneco shock absorbers all-around to make for a pretty decent ride for a ladder-frame vehicle.
In addition, we took the Gladiator for a quick off-highway jaunt as its design intends and it performed as-expected. It has great approach and departure angles, with good visibility for peering over moguls and into ruts or dips.
The mechanical hardware feels up to the task, and while it might slip once or twice as the less sophisticated traction systems (compared to, say, a modern Defender) find their bearings, the Gladiator ate up the moderately challenging trails we found for it.
The chunky tyres come into their own, with the sidewall offering confidence, and the car clambers about with relative ease. Obviously, the enormous 3488mm wheelbase and resulting 18.4-degree breakover angle are the Gladiator’s Achilles heel, making me think twice about cresting certain hills or objects, and making this ute particularly prone to cringe-inducing underbody scraping.
Still, despite its comparatively unsophisticated approach and lack of environmental responsibility the Gladiator is a huge amount of fun to drive.
If safety matters to you, this could be your reason not to buy an LDV G10.
The van scored a mediocre three-star ANCAP crash test safety score - which would be more acceptable if that was under the current, strictest criteria, but it was actually tested in 2015. Which means it would be even lower if tested today.
One of the reasons is the safety equipment - there’s not a lot of it. You get dual front airbags, but no side airbags or curtains. There is no advanced tech like auto emergency braking (AEB), no lane keeping assistance or lane departure warning, no blind spot monitoring or rear cross-traffic alert… But you do get a reversing camera and rear parking sensors.
The previous Gladiator was awarded just a three- out of five-star ANCAP safety rating in 2019, although this updated version gets a few notable upgrades including side curtain airbags, seat reminder alerts and auto high beams.
On the modern active safety equipment front, the new Gladiator scores auto emergency braking, blind spot monitoring with rear cross-traffic alert, adaptive cruise control, roll mitigation as well as front and rear parking sensors and a halfway decent reversing camera.
Not present is lane departure warning or lane keep assist, and given how long the Gladiator is, it would be nice to have a front parking camera, too.
It’s disappointing to see the Gladiator miss key kit like lane keep assist, but unlike a lot of modern vehicles, the Gladiator isn’t annoying to drive and I didn’t find myself needing to turn any equipment off to make it work off-road, either.
LDV isn’t close to the leaders in the segment for ownership, with a behind-the-times three-year/100,000km warranty (admittedly with the same cover for roadside assist), and no capped price servicing plan.
Service intervals are every 12 months/10,000km, which is short, and you need to get an initial service done at 5000km, too.
If you’re worried about long-term longevity, you can check out our LDV G10 problems page.
It’s no secret ownership has long been an awkward topic for Jeep, with models like the Grand Cherokee previously causing all kinds of dramas for owners. A quick scan of forums suggests the Wrangler and Gladiator are less prone to issues compared to their more mainstream siblings in the Jeep line-up. So, food for thought.
Regardless, the Gladiator is offered with a five-year warranty which is distance-limited to just 100,000km, which is well off the pace, although a five-year capped price servicing pack is priced at a reasonable $399 per annual or 12,000km workshop visit.
The brand also offers lifetime roadside assist so long as you continue to service your Jeep in its authorised dealer network.