Leapmotor B10 vs Tesla Cybertruck

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.

Weird, wild, unnecessary, arguably horrific to look at, or at least challenging, too fast, too silly, the Cybertruck is many things, but all of the bad things are obvious from a distance while you only realise just how impressive, clever and intense it is once you take it for a drive.

The drive-by-wire steering alone is a revolutionary bit of tech that will surely bleed into the wider world. 

Overall I thought I would hate it, but I walked away, head still shaking, with grudging respect approaching admiration for the Tesla Cybertruck.

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.

Is there anything interesting about a Narwhal, or a rhinoceros? It’s hard to know whether to give the Tesla Cybertruck 10 out of 10 for how interesting its design is, or zero for how offensive it is, but it would certainly get a solid 20 out of 10 for uniqueness.

Sure, in pictures it looks pretty out there, but when you stand before it in all its shiny steel it makes you laugh out loud, to the point where it has taken your breath away.

And then you start to notice all the fingerprints on it. Every time you - or any of its many admirers - touches it, you get nasty, oily stains and keeping it clean would make looking after a car painted in a matte finish look as easy as sleeping. 

So, stainless steel as a choice for constructing a car? Perhaps there’s a reason no one else has ever followed the DeLorean’s lead here, but there’s no denying it grabs your eye, and provides a certain solidity to the whole structure.

Much like a Frank Gehry building, you’re either going to love the Cybertruck and think it a work of modern art, or dismiss it as a childish man’s fantasy made real (essentially that was the design brief for this vehicle, “make Elon a toy”, and it has nailed that brief), but either way you’ll definitely have strong feelings about it.

A car, or even a pick-up truck, with no round surfaces, nor subtlety of any kind, can’t really be described as beautiful in any way. But interesting? Definitely. 

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.

While the front and rear seats feel plenty spacious, that odd peaked baseball cap roof is a bit challenging in terms of headroom, and I smashed my noggin into it a few times trying to reach into the back seat for more Oreos and Mountain Dew. 

You can pop up the bench seat in the back to create even more space for storage, or to provide a flat floor to sleep on.

You can also lie an American sized pizza box on the vast swathe of dash between you and the wildly angled windscreen, there’s plenty more storage on the floor between you and the passenger and then more storage bins at your hip, as well. A wireless phone charger sits twinned with the spot where you park your Tesla card key.

It’s a practical, semi-rugged feeling space, but with the usual kind of Tesla less is more feeling, except when it comes to the screen, which is stupidly large and requires far too much input when you’re driving to be safe. And there’s still no speedometer where you need one, in front of your eyes, and no head-up display, despite Tesla’s love of other jet-fighter tech, like drive-by-wire steering.

How does one define value when it comes to the vehicular equivalent of a cockroach, one that seems capable of surviving the apocalypse with it indestructible (but possibly slightly rusty in appearance) stainless-steel exterior, HEPA filters (will protect you from pollution, pollen and “industrial fallout”) and (almost, kind of) bowling-ball proof super-strong windows (it can allegedly survive the impact of a baseball at 112km/h - handy if someone is trying to kill you with a baseball)?

And what price can you put on the kind of attention driving a Cybertruck gets you? Perhaps only a Bugatti or a Pagani could match the level of wide-eyed, slack-jawed excitement you see from other people when you drive this thing around. 

Then there’s the fact that it accelerates like an actual rocket, is allegedly so cosseted in the cabin that it’s “as quiet as outer space” (this is a comparison test I am up for, if Elon’s Space X would like to arrange it), and can tow “an average African elephant”, or 4,990kg, and has a 1134kg capacity in that vast rear tray, covered by a standard, automatic tonneau cover that’s so tough you can stand on it.

In that rear tray you’ll find a bottle opener, and some storage tubs with drainage holes to keep your beer cold or your fish frozen. You could sleep in there, on the composite bed, which is tough you don’t need a liner, but why would you when you can sleep in the truck - the dash is so large you could comfortably lie under the windscreen to sun yourself - using 'Sleep Mode', which runs the air con all night from its giant battery to keep it at your set temperature.

Speaking of your battery, you can also charge things with it using the integrated power outlets, and that includes the ability to charge another Tesla, or to re-zap your Tesla Powerwall at home and run your house during a blackout. Or the Apocalypse.

Tesla has put a price on all this, of course, and in America it ranges from US$81,895 to US$101,985. Frankly, that seems like quite good value when you add it all up, or at least it would if the Cybertruck really could tow five tonnes further than the end of the street, and if range - surely something of an issue for an outdoorsy vehicle like this - really could be guaranteed at 547km.

If and when it gets to Australia, of course, its value will need to be reassessed on what is sure to be a much, much larger number.

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.

Yes, I’m giving it 10. Because how could you want for more than a torque figure of 13959Nm, and a Ferrari-humbling 630kW of power to boot?

The Cybertruck is the perfect example of Elon Musk’s approach to what we’ll call science, or Twitter, or X. If it can be done, just do it, don’t ask whether it’s a good idea, or batshit insane.

So because he could fit a vast 123kWh battery and two crazy powerful motors to this pick up monster, and that could provide enough grunt to send three tonnes of mass to 100km/h in 2.8 seconds, they did. 

Is it wise? Probably not. Is it wild and almost, somehow, strangely admirable? Yep.

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.

Tesla claims a range of 547km between charges and that even when towing something of “reasonable size” (a smaller Tesla perhaps) it will still get 400km. I, for one, very much doubt that.

Tesla also claims you can recover up to 235km of range with just 15 minutes of Tesla Supercharging, while a charge from 10 to 80 per cent on that same Supercharger would take 44 minutes. On a 110V American plug it would take 110 hours, or 4.5 days, to fully charge from zero to 100 per cent.

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.

It’s fair to say the Tesla Cybertruck is an intimidating prospect in the metal. It towers over you and seems to stretch into forever, because it does, at 5.68m long (too long to fit in a standard Australian parking space). 

It’s also a full 2.0m wide, 1.8m tall and weighs 3.1 tonnes, but along with its size comes the fact that it just doesn’t look… right. There’s not a round surface on it but there are plenty you could cut yourself with, or lose a finger in.

It’s no less weird inside, as the giant A-pillars, vast dash, crazy yoke steering device and graphically lovely screen confront you, making it feel like you might be on the Starship Troopers ride at Universal Studios rather than in an LA car park.

Then, while you’re getting used to this and having a good laugh at the Easter egg on the touch screen (smash the windows on the graphic of the car with your finger and you hear the sound of Elon freaking out at the infamous failure demonstration of its unbreakable glass), you’re warned that it is going to be almost as weird to drive as it looks.

This is, in part, due to the Cybertruck’s unique drive-by-wire steering - a technology previously popular only with jet fighters and other planes - which allows it to have a yoke instead of a steering wheel without being annoying, because your hands will never cross over and be left grasping air.

Yes, the Infiniti Q50 debuted with 'steer-by-wire' a decade ago, but featured a full mechanical system as a fail-safe back-up. No mechanical safety net here.

The Cybertruck has less than one full turn lock-to-lock, and it has not just passive but aggressive rear wheel steering, allowing the back wheels to turn the opposite direction to the front ones at parking speeds, quite radically, which, once you’re used to it, makes it much easier to park than seems possible. 

It also makes this Tesla incredibly sharp and direct and means that, for the first few minutes of driving it you will turn the wheel, sorry, yoke, far more than necessary.

Once you get used to it, however, it is fabulous, as long as you don’t think about what would happen if the software that’s the only thing connecting you to the wheels - rather than actual moving parts - failed. 

The steering makes the Cybertruck shrink around you to the point where you forget, at times, just how big it is. Combined with the low centre of gravity and the bank vault solidity of the chassis, it also makes it turn-in and handle like a much smaller sports car (and it has a turning circle that defies belief, one that’s sharper than some sedans).

Speaking of sports cars, most of them won’t keep up with the Cybertruck if there’s someone brave in its driving seat. Indeed, you’d need a proper hypercar to match its constant, surging torque (no, I don’t believe it can really have 13,000-plus Newtons, but it’s a lot), and its purely outrageous, surging speed.

Tesla has a habit of calculating torque at the wheels, not the motor(s) and gearing reductions increase torque markedly. 

Yes, I do believe it would do 0 to 100km/h in three seconds, maybe slightly less, but I’m also equally sure it’s not a great idea to try (I'm also very grateful I didn't experience the problems with the throttle sticking open on some examples that recently saw every Cybertruck recalled).

The problem is that 3.0-tonne weight figure, and all that mass. It feels beyond weird to move something this big, that fast, and it quickly makes you pause for a chilling thought about whether it’s all going to be able to stop again. It does, or it did for me, but boy, it puts the wind up you every time you try.

Overall, though, it’s hard to overstate just how surprisingly good, and yes, at times even fun, the Cybertruck is to drive.

Oh, and for the trainspotters out there, claimed efficiency is 22.4kWh per 100km, but we actually saw 27kWh during our two days of test drives. Our second Cybertruck was also making some distinctly weird metallic clanking noises from underneath, particularly when we switched between forward and reverse.

It might be worth waiting for the second generation of this thing before buying one, but that won’t be an issue for Australian fans, anyway.

As far as its off-road abilities, we managed to find a bit of beach in a car park and pointed the Cybertruck at it. After an initial fearful moment of being sure we were going to sink, we just put the foot down and let all that torque power us out of trouble. It felt effortless.

Some unkind experts have referred to the Cybertruck as a “death machine” and a “guideless missile”, pointing out that putting a stainless steel body on top of a big old battery is inherently problematic. As is the lack of crumple zones.

Making all this very pointy metal move as fast as a McLaren supercar has also raised some questions about sanity.

Then there was the recent recall of every Cybertruck built so far:

"Cybertruck owners reported that their vehicles were at risk of getting stuck driving at full speed due to a loose accelerator pedal. Video showed the pedal itself falling off and the piece beneath wedging itself into the car’s interior, which would force the vehicle into maximum acceleration. One driver was able to save himself from a crash by holding down the brake pedal."

Elon Musk, has claimed, however, that the Cybertruck, is “much safer per mile” than its competitors. 

Australia has different pedestrian safety regulations to the US and while some have posited that the Cybertruck will pass, pointing to the fact that you can buy an even bigger Ram truck here, others are not so sure.

The Tesla Cybertruck does have six airbags, and a suite of active safety features as part of its 'Autopilot' system, but it does not yet have 'Full Self Driving'.