Lexus GS vs Abarth 500E

What's the difference?

Weirdly, given all the good things I've had to say about the GS F Sport, it doesn't quite hang together. It's missing that certain something the Europeans have in their chassis, particularly the BMW 5 Series, and with ageing interior tech, it's struggling to keep up.

It's a car built for specific tastes, and they're more California than Straya. And that's perfectly okay, but unfortunately, that doesn't translate to a stampede of buyers. Having said that, none of its German rivals (or its beleaguered Japanese counterpart, Infiniti) could claim wild sales success either.

The GS is a terrific car, underrated but also just not quite there for my taste. The GS F, though, that's another thing altogether.

It’s not perfect, but it’s everything a hot hatch should be in the electric era — engaging, exciting, and, above all, fun.

The GS is ageing well, but it's still a bit heavy-handed around the headlights and a little on the slabby side along the flanks. It doesn't look poised for action, even with the F Sport additions, but nor does it look frumpy, mostly due to the whopping blacked-out spindle grille, a Lexus signature. 

The rear end is good looking but a bit bluff, again neither surprising or delighting.

Little has changed inside, but it's still a very nice cabin, and always will be apart from a couple of clangers (the gear shifter looks super-cheap). 

What's more, it's welcoming, lots of very nice materials, comfortable, seats - it's exactly what it needs to be. Whatever you might think of the looks, one thing is absolutely certain - if anyone builds cars better than Lexus, it's a very, very short list.

I’m just going to come right out and say it — I love the look of the Abarth 500e, even if the colour of our test car should be renamed Acid Trip, rather than Acid Green. 

I love its perfectly proportioned, hunkered-down hot-hatch styling, the new ABARTH lettering on the body, and the new scorpion logo pasted to the side.

Basically, if you can look at the Abarth and not smile, then you need to find more fun in your life.

Inside, it’s a predictably cramped-feeling space, but it’s all nicely laid out, and the more I use them, the more I like the horizontal drive controllers that don’t eat up the little space you have with a traditional shifter. The materials are a bit hit and miss, though.

Being a big car, there's plenty of room inside. Four passengers will be very comfortable although rear legroom was a bit on the skinny side given the car's size.

The cabin contains a good-sized console bin, four cupholders and each door pocket into which you could conceivably slot a bottle.

The 520-litre boot is a useful shape, with a sensible load height and a space-saver spare under the floor. The 5 Series and E Class both best the Lexus by 10 litres, so the GS isn't far off the norm.

While I like the addition of the central screen, it’s surprisingly annoying to use — I found myself jabbing at the buttons again and again before it reacts. You need a Stephen Hawking-level intellect to figure it all out.

I was trying to turn off the Abarth Sound Generator, which I'm reliably informed is possible, but after about five minutes digging through sub-menus, I abandoned all hope.

Normally I’d spend a bit of time exploring the back seat, but frankly, once in there I didn't really feel like spending excess time back there.

The Abarth 500e is only around 3.6m long, 1.7m wide and 1.5m tall, and suffice it to say, the space is tight, and you’ll only be using the two seats in the back in an emergency, or for the smallest of kids.

The boot is pretty tiny, too, starting at 185 litres (VDA) with the rear seats up, but growing to 550L (VDA) with the split-fold rear seat lowered. 

So, not much to write home about. But criticising the tiny Abarth for a lack of practicality is like criticising a horse because it can’t swim – it’s not really in its job description.

Ok, so bonkers thing number one: This Abarth 500e might look like it could fit in your pocket, but it is priced like a much bigger vehicle, starting at $58,900 plus on-road costs for the Turismo variant, increasing to $60,500 for the limited-edition Scorpionissima.

Outside, either trim gets 18-inch diamond-cut alloys, LED lighting all around, a fixed glass roof, the new e-latch front doors (meaning you can just push a button to open the door) from the 500e, along with some performance-focused add-ons, like a front splitter, greyed-out mirror caps, rear disc brakes and new front and rear bumper treatments.

Inside, there’s a leather-and-Alcantara steering wheel, sports seats, aluminium pedals and climate control, while on the tech front, a central 10.25-inch central screen pairs with a wireless charger and wireless phone mirroring, while a second 7.0-inch Driver Display Screen gives you all your driving data.

Oh, and there’s what the brand calls an Abarth Sound Generator, which is all kinds of crazy, but we’ll touch on that in a moment.

The difference between the Scorpionissima and the Turismo, by the way, is style led, with Abarth decals down the sides, and a certificate of authenticity confirming yours is one of 1949 vehicles sold around the world.

Lexus fits a 3.5-litre (2GR-FKS) naturally-aspirated V6, delivering 232kW/380Nm to help shift the 1745kg GS. Power goes to the rear wheels via an eight-speed automatic. Lexus claims the sprint from 0-100km/h is completed in just six seconds.

There’s a single front-mounted electric motor providing the go here, with a total 113.7kW and 235Nm on offer fed through the single-speed gearbox, which is enough to push the 500e from 0-100km/h in 7.0 seconds.

Happily, the way that power is delivered makes it feel faster, and that Sound Generator does a pretty good impersonation of a petrol-powered hot hatch, rising and falling with your inputs.

A real world 13.7L/100km is a solid miss of the claimed 9.3L/100km, which itself is hardly earth-shattering. It's a big heavy car and that's the penalty. It drinks fuel fast, so the 66-litre fuel tank does drain quickly and it's worth knowing you have to fill it with the 95 RON or better.

Right, there’s one obvious downside to the Abarth experience, and that is that it is fitted with a 42kWh battery that delivers a claimed 253km of driving range.

It’s worth noting that there are three Drive Modes — Turismo, Scorpion Street and Scorpion Track — and that only the first one will deliver the maximum range, because it limits inputs to 100kW and 220Nm.

Engage the other two — I’ve had it locked in Scorpion Track, for example, which gives you all of the power and deactivates one-pedal driving — and you can expect those numbers to drop.

When it comes time to charge, the Abarth 500e is set up for 85kW DC fast charging, which should take you from flat to 80 percent charged in around 35 minutes, as well as a maximum 11kW AC charging, which takes just over four hours to get to fully charged. Or you can plug it into a regular socket, which means more like 15 hours to recharge.

One last caveat: I actually wasn't able to get it to charge, which curtailed my adventures a little bit. I tried three chargers, all of which conjured an error message on the screen, and after a quick call to the folks at Abarth it transpired that a quick software update is required.

There are things you expect in a Lexus. Quietness. Composure. Smoothness. The GS delivers all three of those things effortlessly. But it has a few extra things in its bag that I can't say I was expecting.

For a start, the 3.5-litre V6 moves the car without any carry-on and in doing so, I was constantly amazed at how quickly the speed in the head-up display reached the posted limit. It just doesn't feel or sound like a six second car, but there you are. The transmission is virtually faultless, the engine sound distant and refined, the power impressive.

It's a heavy car, no question, but two things work to make it feel much lighter. First - and it doesn't matter which mode you choose - the adaptive suspension somehow knocks about 200kg out of how heavy the car feels. The brakes, while a little soft on pedal feel when you first step on them, are very effective and again help to make the car feel lighter than it is.

The four driving modes are quite distinct. As usual, Eco makes everything soft and doughy or as I prefer to say, unpleasant. Normal is great for every day, with just the right throttle response and steering weight.

Moving to sport ups the aggro slightly while Sport+, while never harsh, firms everything up to the point where it starts to feel like a different car. Sport+ makes the car feel race-car pointy, the suspension holds the body in check and the power seems readily available without jerky progression

The all-wheel steer is a big part of the change in feel. It's is especially sharp in Sport+ mode. The steering's gearing changes up quite a bit, meaning a lot less steering lock required for your favourite hairpin bend. Of course, at real speed it all calms down because neither you nor Lexus are fond of sneezy lane-changes or Armco-swiping. At first I thought it just made the big car feel a bit too nervous but as I got used to it (and was able to dial it down by switching back into a less racy mode) I found it fun but a little bit out of character with the car itself.

And just because it's the F Sport, that doesn't mean it can't do all the things you'd expect from a Lexus. You can still waft, you can still creep up on people and it's really very comfortable when you're cruising or stuck in traffic. 

Remember what I said about how just looking at the Abarth should put a smile on your face? Well, driving it paints on an even bigger grin, and it starts as soon as you fire it up.

While most EVs start silently, leaving you wondering if they're on at all, the Abarth takes a different approach, instead leaning on its sound generator, modelled on the exhaust note of the 695, to give you a throaty rumble when you fire it up. It even revs! And yes, you can turn it off (apparently), but why would you?

On the road, electric drive has actually improved the Abarth experience, I reckon, because all the harshness of the drivetrain has been ironed out, instead just leaving this smooth, potent flow of power every time you plant your right foot, with no gear changes or harsh vibrations to get in the way.

The steering is predictably direct, too, and the whole vehicle feels nimble and quick to react to your inputs.

It’s honestly the kind of car that’s fun driving anywhere, be it suburban streets or twisty backroads, and despite having a couple of options parked at my house, I found myself pulled to the Abarth for all of my trips.

Downsides? The ride is firm but comfortable on most roads, but downright uncomfortable when you clang over bumps or road imperfections. You’ll have to decide if that’s a price to high to pay, but I can live with it for the trade off. And while the cabin tech looks nice, but is fiddly and annoying to use.

Finally, the range relegates the Abarth to a second car, or for those who rarely leave the city. Which is a big ask at the price point.

The Abarth 500e is fitted with six airbags, and decent suite of active safety stuff, like AEB, Lane Keep Assist, Traffic Sign Recognition, Blind Spot Warning, auto high beam and and an attention monitor. It’s all pretty subtle, though, and it didn't bing or bong at me once, which was wonderful.

It scored four stars when tested by Euro NCAP.

There's one area where Lexus smashes the Germans and that's after-sales. While the warranty is hardly ground-breaking at four years/100,000km and service intervals are reasonable at 12 months/15,000km, it's how it all comes together.

For the duration of the warranty, when the car needs a service, Lexus will either come and get it then return it to you, or give you a loan car. Anecdotal evidence suggests this continues long after the warranty runs out. Like, 10 years after the warranty runs out. 

This is a small thing, but if there's one thing I hate about car ownership, it's the servicing experience. If I was a betting man, I'd dare you to find someone who genuinely has a problem with Lexus after-sales care.

On top of that, you get a generous roadside assist package for four years. 

It’s an interesting ownership proposition, because the car is covered for three years or 150,000km, which is underwhelming and then some compared to the warranty offerings of its competition, but there is capped-price servicing, at $300 per visit, required every 12 months or 15,000km, which lasts 10 years.

The battery is covered for eight years or 160,000km.