Leapmotor B10 vs Chery C5

What's the difference?

I’ll be a shame if the B10 doesn’t sell well, because it doesn’t suffer from many of the downfalls of its compatriots and its price is extremely competitive for what you get.

As a comfortable smallish SUV, it meets par, and it’s on the better side of tech when it comes to cars from China, and it doesn’t have any major on-road red flags.

You really wouldn’t be disappointed with this having paid $40K, just skip the base model and go for the Design.

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

Can a new name, fresh face and suspension update save Chery’s sleek SUV coupe from the ignominy of being one of the least pleasant options in its ultra-competitive class?

Sadly, not enough has been done for us to recommend the new C5.

As an affordable, stylish, roomy and zoomy SUV, the Chery definitely provides showroom appeal, especially given the decent warranty.

But, with lots of little niggles still present to distract and frustrate, the C5 is far from A1. Plus, with prices now creeping up, it doesn’t even have the cheap pricing of the old Omoda 5 to get it over the line.

Heading into 2026, Chery still needs to do better than this.

Right after we praise the B10 for its value, we need to talk about its looks. A slight drop in tone as the second Leapmotor to land in Australia looks an awful lot like the first, and it’s relatively bland.

It’s not ugly, but it’s not particularly inspiring and there’s not much character to this little electric SUV.

It’s got a very upright silhouette at the front with a slightly sloping roofline at the rear, so the overall shape is appealing, but the lack of distinct features makes the B10 an anonymous commuter for now, especially with its similarities to the C10.

You can tell them apart by the C10’s slightly larger size if they’re near each other, or the B10’s more in-line headlight bar, where the C10’s have a ‘droop’ at the sides.

The large section of black at the lower half of the front is also unappealing, though darker colours like the optional 'Starry Night Blue' or 'Dawn Purple' (both $990) blend into it better than standard 'Light White'.

To its credit, at least the B10 doesn’t fall victim to the design crutch of adding trim and plastic for no reason.

In terms of the specifics, the B10 is 4515mm long, 1885mm wide and 1665mm tall with a 2735mm wheelbase, making it quite the large small SUV.

Inside, the cabin looks and feels roomy thanks to the test car’s light interior, decent windows and the light from the sunroof, as well as the fact the EV powertrains are compact and generally don’t interfere with cabin space.

Materials aren’t all scratchy hard plastic, though it is dotted around, and the general look of the B10 inside feels more premium than its price would have you thinking, despite the simplicity of the layout and design.

The new and narrower nose treatment is better, banishing the Omoda 5’s insectoid face straight into the bin. As an example of coupe-SUV design, the unaltered silhouette remains contemporary and is a defining signature for the series.

But, as before, the C5’s styling is hobbled by its narrow-gutted track width and highish (at 184mm) ground clearance, that give it a muffin-top and tippy-toed appearance respectively from most angles. Flashbacks to a Holden VN Commodore. Stance be damned.

Let’s look at the newcomer’s dimensions, compared to the Tiggo 4 for perspective: length is 4351mm (plus 44mm), width is 1831mm (+6mm), height is 1662mm (+2mm) and wheelbase is identical at 2610mm.

Still, there’s a positively Pollyanna-esque perspective to be gained here as well, since the C5’s extra size translates to a biggish small SUV inside a cabin that seems stylishly minimalistic. Or fairly basic. It all depends on your point of view.

Let’s take a closer look.

Getting into the B10 requires a minor annoyance - unlocking and locking the car requires a keycard to be tapped on the drivers’ side mirror like you're scanning to access your floor in a hotel elevator.

There’s an app that adds a fair bit of functionality, but having to whip your phone out ahead of jumping in the car is also irritating.

Once you’re in, though, the space inside the B10 is well laid-out, even if much of its functionality is crammed into the big central touchscreen - it’s always ‘points off’ for a lack of physical buttons in this section of a review.

Once you’re used to it and have sorted out your personal settings on the multimedia software, it becomes more natural and less distracting, though Apple CarPlay and Android Auto would occasionally lag in the car on test.

The good news is they now exist for the brand in the B10, with the Leapmotor C10 still lacking the vital in-car mirroring tech.

The ergonomics and interior space work well, generally, with comfortable pews and good vision, plus decent spaces to keep things out of the way. The phone charger being in a very visible and accessible position might tempt some naughty screen-keen drivers, and being in the sun without a vent for cooling while charging means your phone will get proper hot.

The second row is extremely spacious, belying the fact this car is classified as a small SUV. Oodles of legroom and enough headroom for a tall adult means the B10 outguns rivals in terms of good options for parents (note the B10’s extremely strong 95 per cent child safety score from ANCAP, too) or anyone who needs to cart humans around regularly.

Behind the second row is a 490L boot, which becomes 1475L when the second row is folded down.

There’s space under the floor for cables and messy bits, but unfortunately no spare wheel, just a tyre repair kit, so more points off for that.

Three things struck me the moment I stepped inside the C5.

Firstly, though the silhouette suggests a low-slung car, the tall stance means getting in and out isn’t a drama at all, with the seats being up high enough for this to deserve its SUV/crossover status.

Secondly, the Chery emits a somewhat repellent plastic off-gas odour, a bit like a cheap toy. The smell never goes away. Perhaps it was just our test car? Unlikely though, as it reminds me of pre-2000s Kias and Hyundais.

And in stark contrast, thirdly, there’s an arresting elegance to the dashboard’s minimalist layout and presentation. Nothing’s changed visually and nothing needed to.

Let’s concentrate on the many positive points first.

There’s plenty of space around you for a comparatively small and narrow SUV, including ample legroom and head room for your 178cm tester front and back. It doesn't feel cramped at all.

Finding the ideal driving position is easy, with most of the (available) switches and controls where you’d need them to be without having to stretch to reach. Helping things out here is an adjustable steering wheel for rake as well as reach. Unlike in an MG ZS.

The dash layout looks great, given that this car is of a 2022 vintage, with the large, twin 10.25-inch integrated displays for both the electronic instrumentation and the multimedia system seamlessly presented. Both are fairly clear and easy to work out and operate. And, despite being an older-generation vehicle (it’s now well into year four of production), the instruments still look fresh.

And though the C5 runs a software-based operating system for vehicle functions, climate, audio, multimedia and other settings, the few buttons provided are well integrated and mostly work logically.

Below the touchscreen is a row of haptic switches for the main heating and cooling elements, meaning just one touch is necessary and with no complicated and time-consuming sub-menus to navigate. That's good.

You do need to dive into sub-menus for some drive settings and modes, though, and that's disappointing, but at least the C5’s is not as complicated as some others we’ve experienced of late.

Other plus points include excellent ventilation and loads of storage, including a big old glovebox, a cavernous centre console bin, a vast lower area to hide things on, deep cupholders and a ‘wall’ to lean two phones or a tablet while still being visible for the driver to glance at, with one side providing wireless charging on the Ultimate grade.

Along with pleasant cloth seats that are surprisingly comfortable, all show a reassuring degree of thoughtfulness.

Additionally, the poor side and rear vision is at least aided by large side mirrors and a crisp reverse-camera views.

However, there are some serious downsides too, starting with the C5’s aforementioned phone/tablet wall. The rubber backing in our test car was misshapen and dog-eared, undermining the otherwise exemplary build quality.

Until you learn its weird ways, the gear shifter can be unfathomable. It looks like it would operate as per a regular T-bar, but pressing the side button to engage Drive or Reverse instead locks them out, meaning the uninitiated will inevitably find themselves panicking manoeuvring in traffic with impatient drivers wondering why a Chery is blocking the road during a cheeky three-point turn. Embarrassing and, yes, super frustrating.

In the Ultra at least, the lofty front passenger seat has no height adjustment. The digital radio did not work for the entire week we had the C5. Maybe it was just our car, but even in inner Melbourne, reception proved elusive.

And the touchscreen-based secondary climate settings that aren’t supported by physical buttons are a stretch away, including temperature adjustment, meaning these and other items are arranged for left-hand-drive access.

This means it is fiddly to operate, as concentration is not on the road ahead, resulting in the driver monitor sounding off, leading to more frustration. An unvirtuous circle of distraction ensues, highlighting the folly of software-based vehicle systems that have not been tailored to Australian road conditions. Fail.

But nothing is as aggravating as the Chery’s voice control system. Like we said earlier, when turned on, it mishears or misunderstands words to almost a comical degree… if it wasn’t so constantly intrusive. As with paranoid and/or trigger-happy ADAS warnings, you end up switching off such irritating tech. Which beggars the question: what is their point?

Moving to the back seat, things look up again, with sufficient space for most smaller families to settle into.

The bench is fine, offering adequate comfort for shorter journeys. Legroom is generous, helped out by room for boots to tuck underneath the front cushion. And most amenities are present for a base model car, including a folding armrest with two cupholders (again, unlike in an MG ZS), as well as one-touch electric windows, overhead grab handles, coat hooks, decent size door bins, a USB port and face level ventilation.

All those go towards making the C5 well-packaged, small family transport.

Further back, Chery has managed to liberate an extra 10 litres of cargo capacity compared to the old Omoda 5, so 360 litres is available – which is not bad for a small SUV. That rises to 1075L in two-seater mode.

It’s also a practical and easy boot to use, with a space saver spare wheel.

In its latest guise, Chery’s small SUV coupe range has been reduced to just two grades, Urban and Ultimate.

This one’s the Urban. At $29,990 drive-away at the time of publishing, it undercuts the Ultimate by $5000, but does cost $2000 more than the old base Omoda 5 FX. And the competition is becoming fiercer by the month.

Consider, for example, the redesigned and vastly-improved MG ZS, facelifted Jolion and all-new Suzuki Fronx, as well the less expensive if smaller rivals such as the Mahindra 3XO, Kia Stonic, Hyundai Venue, Mazda CX-3, Nissan Juke and Chery’s own Tiggo 4.

Frankly, the Omoda 5 needed to improve.

To that end, the C5 ditches the old torsion beam rear suspension for a multi-link independent set-up that promises better comfort and control. That’s a big step in the right direction.

And while long-term durability and reliability remain unknowns with such gearboxes, a switch from a continuously variable transmission (CVT) to a six-speed dual-clutch transmission (DCT) may be a nod to driving enthusiasts. Let’s see about that.

The entry-level Ultra includes a nicely integrated electronic display and central touchscreen at 10.25 inches apiece, wireless Apple CarPlay/Android Auto, DAB+ digital radio, rear air vents, powered folding mirrors, noise-cutting acoustic front door glass and 17-inch alloys.

There’s also “Hello, Chery” voice control, that can thankfully be silenced as our example’s inability to differentiate 'Chery' from 'Cher', 'chair' and 'care' fast became a pain in you-know-where, since it insisted on constantly butting in.

Seven airbags and a decent level of advanced driver assistance systems (ADAS) are also standard – more on those in the safety section below.

For the record, the $35K-drive-away Ultimate adds better audio, a powered tailgate, heated front seats, dual-zone climate control, a 360-degree monitor, sunroof with sunshade, wireless charger, imitation leather, bigger wheels and more.

However, they are also necessary sweeteners against sophisticated rivals like the Toyota Yaris Cross Hybrid, Mazda CX-30, Subaru Crosstrek, Hyundai Kona, Nissan Qashqai and Renault Duster.

More importantly for some, the closely related and virtually identically sized Chery Tiggo 4 costs several thousand dollars less, and mostly matches the C5’s spec at each corresponding grade, undermining the newcomer's value. A strange own-goal, Chery.

Oh well. For some buyers, this swoopy crossover is all about image. At least the facelift addresses the old Omoda 5’s odd appearance from some angles.

There’s only one powertrain option for the Leapmotor B10, a single, rear-mounted electric motor that produces 160kW and 240Nm, which makes the electric SUV good for a claimed 0-100km/h time of 8.0 seconds in both variants.

Top speed is a claimed 170km/h, also regardless of the variant.

The C5 is powered by a 1.5-litre four-cylinder turbo petrol engine, delivering 108kW of power at 5500rpm and 210Nm of torque from 1750-4000rpm.

As part of the MY25 facelift, the Chery swaps out the old Omoda 5’s CVT for a six-speed dual-clutch transmission, complete with a handy manual mode. It drives the front wheels only.

Tipping the scales at 1462kg (kerb), the C5 Ultra offers a power-to-weight ratio of 73.9kW/tonne – which is slightly less than, say, a Haval Jolion, but quite a bit behind a Mazda CX-3.

With a slight helping hand from a strong northerly wind, we managed to record a 0-100km/h sprint time of 9.9 seconds. This figure suggests the Chery feels faster than it is.

Leapmotor claims the B10 will, from its LFP battery of either 56.2kWh for the Style or 67.1kWh for the Design LR, draw 17.2kWh/100km or 17.3kWh/100km, respectively under WLTP testing.

The result is the Style offering up a 361km WLTP-tested driving range, and the Design LR a more useful 434km.

While we were unable to properly confirm this claim on the launch, the trip computer after a mix of highway driving and more spirited back-road testing displayed a figure of 13.5kWh/100km, while the previous 1447km of driving had reportedly measured in at 14.7kWh.

Charging from 30 to 80 per cent takes approximately 20 minutes regardless of spec and battery size. The smaller battery can be charged via DC fast-charging at a maximum 140kW, and the larger at 168kW. Both max out at 11kW under AC charging.

The C5’s combined average fuel consumption figure is 6.9L/100km, for a carbon dioxide emissions rating of 160 grams/km. And that’s on regular 91 RON standard unleaded. Topping the 51-litre petrol tank should result in nearly 740km of range between refills.

During our week with the Chery, we managed 9.0L/100km, which is very disappointing, though that did include highway and performance driving.

The Leapmotor B10 was developed with testing at Stellantis’ European proving ground in Italy. This is because despite Leapmotor being its own brand within China, its international operations are a joint-venture between itself and Stellantis.

There are some on-paper shreds of evidence for this, a rear-wheel drive layout and a claimed 50/50 weight distribution help, but get the B10 on the road and it’s clear this isn’t a car that’s relying entirely on price, a long list of features and some showroom shine to sell.

After the initial familiarisation that comes with many new electric cars, particularly from China, the Leapmotor B10 becomes easy to settle into a rhythm with, especially if you turn off some of its more intrusive ADAS features like lane-keep, driver monitoring and speed limit warning. The latter can sometimes get a limit wrong, and though the B10’s chimes aren’t audibly overbearing, they are persistent.

While the B10 doesn’t excel in any areas on the road, it doesn’t fall down significantly in any either.

Its suspension soaks up bumps relatively well, and despite some vibrations on rougher roads the B10 is pretty comfortable. The tyres it rides on as standard, however, are rather noisy, so if there’s an opportunity to swap out the Linglong defaults to something better, we’d advise it.

The tyres also squeal rather quickly when cornering, not necessarily because the B10 is about to let go, but just because the weight of the car appears to be pushing on the front outside tyre in cornering.

The B10 holds up better than\ a family car really needs to in dynamic driving, but we wouldn’t be doing mountain runs or track days in one. 

There’s a little body roll in corners, but not nearly as much as has been in other models riding on the apparently soft suspension preferred in China.

The steering, braking and acceleration all have a mild vagueness to them, but once you’re honed in they’re all predictable. The steering can be adjusted for weight, and its lightest setting is too light, while the acceleration feels lethargic in its lowest setting and too aggressive in its highest.

There’s not a lot of regenerative braking strength, but it’s enough to help regulate speed once you’re used to how mildly it comes in - again, depending on your preferences and settings.

The good news here is that the B10 is easy to drive, and only very serious road bumps on fast corners unsettled it on test - the kind you’d expect to upset any car.

Chery has made some pretty fundamental changes underneath, so we had higher hopes of the C5 compared to the preceding Omoda 5. However, expectations ought to be tempered here.

Let’s begin with the Chinese SUV’s performance.

After a moment’s hesitation, the C5 feels punchy from the get-go, with a decent amount of muscle as the revs rise. Throttle response is brisk, even at higher speeds. And the brakes do a great job. This is quite the rapid little runabout.

Some of that initial lag is down to the dual-clutch transmission, since it needs time for the turbo to spool up. Once sorted, it shifts swiftly and smoothly, and without delay. Only the aforementioned gear selector complication will catch out new drivers, as the operation is needlessly complicated.

But the engine is never really quiet, and can even feel coarse when extended under hard acceleration, betraying this Chery’s station as a cheap SUV. And the stop/start tech is especially jerky.

The steering, meanwhile, is a mix of disgruntle and delight.

When driving on the motorway, it can feel lumpy, with the driver-assist system tugging away endlessly at the wheel. The sudden jolts make it feel like a pinball as the vehicle feels like it is ricocheting off the white lines. Such constant correction is both tiring and irritating, leading to fatigue and, if your fuse is really short, aggravation.

For steering smoothness or linearity, you need to dive into a sub menu and opt out of several ADAS modes. Or otherwise pull over and wonder why Chinese car companies especially seem to have such disdain for Australian drivers. If this sounds like a nightmare, the C5 is not for you.

Furthermore, there’s no point choosing a steering setting. Comfort is light enough for easy driving and weighty enough for the driver to feel in control, but feedback and feel are absent. And selecting Sport just adds needless heft and makes it all feel way too heavy.

Now, that said, the C5 offers some dynamic compensation, and likely courtesy of its multi-link suspension upgrade.

At higher speeds, the steering, for instance, is pleasingly direct and precise, meaning it turns exactly where you choose it to. The handling feels controlled and the tyres grip well, for some unintentional scrappy fun through really tight corners, to a certain extent anyway. It’s a side to the Chery the Omoda 5 never seemed capable of delivering.

But, inevitably, this comes at a price, and that is a busy and at times agitated ride, with the suspension failing to soak up bumps and irregularities on anything other than smooth roads, despite its new-found independence, adding to further fatigue. For the record, our test car rode on 215/60R17 Giti tyres.

Would higher-quality rubber help fix this? If you’re buying a sub-$30K Chery SUV, would you even care? Basically, unless you enjoy the occasional hoon, the C5 lacks dynamic sophistication as well as sufficient Australian road tuning. Much like its predecessor. Such a letdown.

Considering that it is merely a facelift with a new badge, the Chery C5 conveniently adopts the preceding Omoda 5’s five-star ANCAP crash-test rating.

Note that was conducted in 2022 using earlier performance parameters compared to today.

Anyway, there is little doubt that Chery has done its homework here, with a host of advanced driver-assist systems (ADAS) being fitted.

These include autonomous emergency braking (AEB), forward collision warning, emergency lane keeping, lane departure warning and prevention, blind spot detection, lane change assist, rear cross-traffic alert and braking, adaptive cruise control with traffic jam assist, traffic sign recognition, speed control assist, a driver monitor and auto high beams.

This cannot be understated: most of this ADAS tech requires Australian road tuning, because they interfere and distract to the point of being a nuisance.

Note that the AEB (encompassing pedestrian, cyclist and back-over braking) operates from 4km/h to 65km/h, whilst the car-to-car braking is between 4km/h and 150km/h. The lane-support systems work between 60km/h and 150km/h.

Seven airbags are present (including a front-centre and full head/curtain coverage but no rear side airbags), as are anti-lock brakes, stability control and traction control systems.

Finally, a pair of ISOFIX child-seat latch points and a trio of hooks for tether straps across the rear seat are also part of the C5 package.

The B10’s post-purchase prospects are generally solid, though Leapmotor’s six-year, 160,000km warranty is an area where it falls short of rivals which are offering longer, unlimited kilometre warranties.

The battery is covered for eight years or 180,000km, whichever comes first, which is pretty par for an EV.

Servicing is capped-price for the first eight years, with each service costing $370 on average. The eight-year span makes it pretty appealing, per 12-month interval or every 20,000km.

There are currently 20 dealers across the country, though more are coming, while Leapmotor also offers eight years of roadside service.

Very competitive if not quite as class leading as the conditional Nissan, Mitsubishi and MG 10-year warranty, the C5 comes with a seven-year/unlimited kilometre warranty.

Chery also offers seven years/105,000km of capped-price servicing and a year’s free roadside assistance, though up to seven years is available should owners choose to have their vehicle maintained at an authorised dealer during that period.

Service intervals are at every 12 months or 10,000km, and cost $280 per visit for the first five, extending to nearly $370 and $290 for the final two.