Lexus LS vs Mini Cooper

What's the difference?

The LS500 is the least logical version of the most logical option in the ultimate luxury sedan segment in which logic doesn’t often apply at all. 

Take from that what you will, but if it was me being driven around I would definitely be opting for the hybrid version of the LS instead for its smooth electrified driving characteristics and lower operating costs.

The new petrol Cooper range very gently evolves the upmarket Cool Britannia cliché BMW invented with the R50 back in 2001 and fostered with every iteration since.

More of the same, only slightly updated and just improved enough to justify trading the old one in. If this appeals to you, then go for it. This is the best petrol version yet. Probably.

But the Cooper’s real spark literally and metaphorically lies within the EV version.

Two very different Minis indeed.

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

The distinctive but conservative style of Lexus is on full show across the LS’s massive frame. Like other cars in its class, it’s very much the image of the brand itself with styling points strong, but to me not as impressive as the LC500, which is a definitive expression of the brand.

The LS also has many styling points of the previous-generation Lexus design language which are in the process of being phased out.

The car was only updated last year, bringing with it a more recent interpretation of the brand’s big spindle grille, pointy headlight profile, and angular but traditional rear.

The LS - even in this Sports Luxury guise - does look quite menacing from certain angles. The width and stance of this car is accentuated by its curvaceous rear guards and big square front bumper, with the elegance of a classic three-box sedan maintained in a side profile.

The chrome wheel finish is a bit much for my taste, but there’s no doubt they’re real show pieces. They’d better be, too, because I hear they are incredibly expensive should you need to replace one.

The inside has highs and lows but it’s the place where you can most tell the LS has been on sale for a while.

I love the plush seats, big screen, integrated analogue clock and three-dimensional door card design, which sell the flagship luxury feel.

But this car’s age is on show with its clunky and much maligned 'Remote Touch' pad controller (which Lexus is at long last phasing out in its new cars), last-generation software suite, and its small, crowded instrument cluster.

There are a whopping nine interior trim combinations to choose from and ours has the most recently added black leather and ‘Nishijin Haku’ themed highlights which are meant to be inspired by the way "moonlight sits on an open sea".

The feel is a bit '90s, a rough textured fabric with a silver detailing and elements clad in a thin platinum foil, making you feel like you’re in a classic high-class Japanese taxi.

But I’ll admit it plays well with the ambient lighting effect in the doors, and is a unique selling point compared to the standard leather finish.

You’ve got to hand it to BMW.

The new nose and triangular tail-light treatment on the 2013-vintage midsection look as if they were designed to all go together back in the day.

You could even mistake it for the previous Cooper EV, though side-by-side that’s less likely, since the latter ditches the upright windscreen for a more raked item, clamshell bonnet opening, horizontal bumper shutlines for shorter and more-angled ones, plastic wheel arch surrounds and pull-out door handles for flush units.

The wheels are further apart, the overhangs shorter and the lower-side surfacing broken up by an artful sheetmetal crease.

The overall length at 3876mm, width at 1744mm and height at 1432mm have increased by 55mm, 17mm and 18mm respectively over the old model, but the 2495mm wheelbase stays the same.

And that’s not all.

For passengers, as you’d expect, the LS is stellar. The massive outboard rear seats offer plenty of room, and are complete with reclining, message, and cooling functions.

Adjustable vents feature, with quad-zone climate, and the screens come with individual headphone jacks and HDMI-in so you can bring with you all sorts of entertainment options for those longer journeys.

Other suitable additions worth noting include the wine cooler (although it’s a bit small for anything other than minibar-sized beverages, hardly the 007 trope of rolling out a full-size bottle of Bollinger), flip-down mirror with a light in the roof, and the touch panel controls in the armrest. I also appreciate the built-in sunshades. Nice touch.

Less impressive is the general vibe of the middle seat. With a large raised centre split in the floor and such wide and lavish outboard seats, the middle seat feels a bit forgotten.

Up front, the practicality offering includes a high level of adjustability for the seats to suit a wide range of driving positions, electrical adjust even for the steering column, and a nice wide seat which you simply sink into.

Of course, soft finishes adorn even unseen parts of the cabin so you’ll never touch a nasty hard plastic, and there are large storage areas in both the doors and centre console box.

This big armrest console also hides the USB connectivity within, and there’s a set of big cup holders with a flip-away lid if you want the wood grain design uninterrupted when they are not in use.

I have to mention the useless touchpad controller here, but hand the brand props for offering a collection of climate shortcut buttons on the dash, an actual volume knob, and truth be told you don’t need the touchpad anyway because the screen is touch. Just be ready for the matching last-generation software, which isn’t the best to use or navigate.

The boot has a volume of 440 litres which sounds plentiful, but the actual use of it is a reminder of one of the reasons SUVs are so popular.

Yes, it’s big and reasonably deep, but putting the largest CarsGuide case in there proved a bit clumsy as you have to lift it over the tall rear bumper and it only just clears the top of the relatively small opening.

I love sedans, but this is one area where you can see the benefit of a hatch opening, particularly if you were frequently doing the airport run.

The previous Mini 3DR featured a messy and quite overbearing dashboard design from 2013 that’s aged about as well as Robin Thicke’s videos from that year.

In contrast, the new model's is far simpler and less protruding, dramatically boosting the sense of space and light.

That said, all four occupants still sit low, with an upright windscreen ahead and beside high window sills. There’s an oversized, circular screen in the middle of a pared-back dash and a neat row of toggle switches below. It’s still pure Mini in theme.

As before, there’s enough space for even the tallest people up front, reflecting the British icon’s German packaging, with plenty of head and legroom, as well as ample width. It’s only when you jump from the EV to the petrol Cooper that you realise this feels noticeably narrower.

All Coopers regardless of fuel share the 240mm (9.4-inch) central OLED display. It might seem like visual overload at first glance, with so much going on, but after a brief period of familiarisation, the touchscreen becomes a cinch to decipher and navigate. The colour-coded driving modes, pleasingly slick screen swipe action and ultra-crisp graphics are especially noteworthy.

Revel, too, in the twist engine starter and toggle gear selector actions, that also save space and are super natural to operate. This is button-lite dashboard de-cluttering done right.

As with the previous model, the Mini’s driving position has you sitting upright, but it’s comfortable enough on the S’ sports seats we sampled this on, and everything is within reach. There’s sufficient storage. The ambient mood lighting is fun. And kudos for the deployment of animal-free materials. In fact, the Cooper’s fresh textures are quite remarkable.

We’re less fond of the glass roof with no sunlight block; there are blind spots due to the thick side pillars; and some of the lower-placed plastics do not seem $60K’s worth in a supermini this expensive.

Rear-seat access isn’t graceful, with a narrow aperture to squeeze past and a slow-moving electric seat to wait for, but that should surprise nobody given this car’s size. There’s enough space for two adults and not much else really. It’s pretty basic back there.

And even further back, Mini quotes just 210 litres VDA of luggage capacity, rising to 725L with the twin backrests dropped.

Don’t forget, though, that no spare wheel exists. Just an ever-fiddly tyre repair kit.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the Cooper…

For the duration of the original BMC/BLMC/Leyland/Austin/Rover era, the Mini was often the cheapest new car around. We’re talking bare bones motoring here, for the people.

Obviously, BMW bothers with no such democratic notion today.

The new Cooper comes in two models differentiated by engine size – the C with a 115kW 1.5-litre three-cylinder turbo and S with a 150kW 2.0-litre four-cylinder turbo. Both are carryover units, and automatic only, sadly. 

Which helps explain why the base C Core starts from a steep $41,990 (all prices are before on-road costs). Much the same car cost $10K less just five years ago.

The Core includes climate control air-conditioning, an OLED circular touchscreen, a head-up display, a reverse camera, parking sensors, wireless Apple CarPlay/Android Auto, DAB+ digital radio, a smartphone charger, ambient lighting, a heated steering wheel, 17-inch alloy wheels and a basic cruise control set-up.

You’ll need to step up to the $44,990 Cooper C Classic for adaptive cruise control, a surround-view monitor, interior camera, 'augmented reality' satellite navigation, front seat warmers, seven rather than four colour choices, 18-inch alloys, a glass roof and more.

'Sun Protection Glazing' for the latter, along with a Harmon/Kardon premium audio system, John Cooper Works (JCW) sports seats with electric adjustment and memory, fancier interior materials and a broader palette of options are part of the Cooper C Flavoured package from $47,990. 

Meanwhile, the more-powerful Cooper S auto bypasses Core and kicks off with the Classic from $49,990, Favoured from $52,990 and the JCW Sport from $54,990.

The latter includes a JCW body/interior styling, steering wheel and stripes, along with adaptive suspension, paddle shifters and uprated brakes.

Going for the 5DR Cooper equivalents adds $2000 to the price.

All up, then, with drive-away pricing, the Cooper before options is priced between $47,000 and $63,000.

Obvious rivals are the Audi A1, Fiat/Abarth 500, Citroen C3 and even Suzuki Swift Sport, though alternatives with a retro bent and driver focus might also be in BMW’s crosshairs, including the Toyota GR86, Subaru BRZ, Mazda MX-5, Ford Mustang and Nissan Z.

The LS500 packs a 3.4-litre twin-turbocharged V6 petrol engine with impressive peak outputs of 310kW/600Nm.

This engine is designed to replace a V8 in terms of its power and feel, and in a lot of ways it does.

It might surprise you to learn the only other place you’ll see this engine used in Australia is the Toyota LandCruiser 300 Series.

The alternative present in the LS500h is a hybrid version of the same engine, sans the turbos.

With its electric assistance, power outputs are lower than this turbo version, but get close with a combined total of 264kW.

While I like the walloping nature of the turbocharged V6 we drove, I think the hybrid is a no-brainer choice for reasons explained in the driving segment.

Compared to the previous model, the new one brings more performance to the table.

The Cooper C uses BMW’s 1.5-litre three-cylinder turbo petrol engine, and pumps out 115kW of power at 6500rpm and 230Nm of torque from 1500rpm to 4600rpm. Previously it was 100kW and 220kW.

With a power-to-weight ratio of 91.3kW per tonne, it’s enough for a zero to 100km/h time of 7.7 seconds (previously 8.1s), on the way to a 225km/h top speed.

Mounted transversely, it drives the front wheels via a seven-speed dual-clutch transmission (DCT).

It’s still difficult to imagine Mini buyers not outraged by the manual’s disappearance. But don’t worry. There’s always the Suzuki Swift.

Stepping up to the Cooper S, you’ll find a 2.0-litre four-cylinder turbo-petrol unit delivering a useful 150kW at 6500rpm and 300Nm between 1450rpm and 4500rpm. It was 141kW/280Nm in the old version.

Boasting 117kW/tonne, this one needs just 6.6s to 100km/h and can achieve a 242km/h V-max.

Now known as the FAAR platform, it is an evolution of BMW’s UKL (Untere Klasse, German for ‘lower class’) modular architecture that debuted in the previous model.

Suspension is via MacPherson-style struts up front and a multi-link independent rear end.

Given the angry sounds emanating from under the bonnet of this LS every time I put my foot on the accelerator, I was surprised to find overall fuel consumption for the week was surprisingly good.

I used the LS to drive mostly around town, and yet it beat its own urban claim of 14.2L/100km, settling at 12.9L.100km, closer to the combined fuel figure of 10L/100km.

The hybrid is said to nearly halve this consumption, and I’m inclined to believe it based on previous experience with Toyota/Lexus hybrid systems. 

The LS500 requires at least 95RON unleaded fuel and has an 82-litre fuel tank. That means you're looking at a range of around 635km, using our real-world figure.

The new Coopers enjoy a drink more than before. By almost half a litre per 100km more, in fact.

Rated at Euro6 and running on 95 RON premium unleaded petrol, the Cooper C averages 6.0L/100km (F56: 5.6), while the more-powerful Cooper S ups that to 6.3L/100km (F56: 5.8).

In terms of carbon dioxide emissions averages, this translates to 137 and 145 grams per kilometre, respectively. With a 44L fuel tank, the potential range-average is up to around 730km.

For a seemingly very sophisticated car, there’s something decidedly unsophisticated about the way the LS500 feels from behind the wheel.

Immediately, it feels nowhere near as cutting edge or even as special as something like the LC500, which to me becomes the truest expression of everything Lexus.

No, the LS500 in this turbo V6 guise feels a little bit too old-fashioned. It’s quiet and under acceleration feels like a V8 of just a few years ago, but the Aisin-sourced traditional torque converter automatic transmission is, dare I say, ordinary, lacking the finesse of its German rivals. It’s a problem which is easily solved. Pick the hybrid.

Elsewhere the experience is decidedly Lexus. If you’ve driven even an IS the experience is very familiar in the LS. The touchpoints all match, the steering is light and smooth with a healthy serve of electrical assistance, and, for the most part, the ride is as floaty and comfortable as you’d expect.

I say ‘for the most part’ because there are limits to what the LS’s adjustable-height air suspension will filter out on the enormous 20-inch wheels, complete with run-flat tyres.

Small bumps and potholes are dispatched with ease. Anything too large which passes a certain thud-factor will definitely be communicated to the cabin, though, making for a strange all-or-nothing ride quality.

It is impeccably silent inside, though. The engine is distant, even under load, and tyre noise is virtually non-existent thanks to specially designed alloy wheels with hollow chambers designed to minimise this effect. Now that’s more like what I expect from a Lexus.

It handles very well for such a big unit, making it at least decent to drive for the few buyers who will actually take the helm themselves.

This is no land yacht, it’s a surprisingly agile and adept machine when faced with a bit of blacktop. And it's here where the turbocharged V6 comes into its own compared to the hybrid, offering superior driver engagement.

So far, similarities in design, packaging, dashboard presentation and suspension layout suggest that the electric Cooper and petrol Cooper would be like fraternal twins from behind the wheel.

But in reality, the petrol-powered Mini feels much the same as the previous model, whilst the EV is more akin to what we secretly wish the fantasy Tesla Model 1 would be like. From the future.

Now, we never had a chance to drive the Cooper C, but the closely-related (though larger and heavier) Countryman C sibling – complete with the same powertrain – proved to be a willing and feisty performer once on the go, after what seemed like protracted turbo and DCT lag.

Why the hell can’t Mini just offer manuals again?

The Cooper S, meanwhile, completely lived up to brand expectations, with the familiar, revvy snarl of BMW’s sophisticated 2.0-litre four-pot turbo providing punchy of throttle response and effortless cruising capability, though there’s still some initial acceleration hesitation.

Thankfully, the Mini’s steering is always alert, offering precision and agility by the bucketful, backed up a chassis that seems permanently glued to the road – even in the wet and wintry conditions we had to endure.

Yet, other than a ride quality that seemed better than any previous-gen Mini we’ve ever encountered and so genuinely surprised us, the Cooper S seemed a little… stale compared to the glorious SE EV we had just (reluctantly) surrendered.

A bit like having a favourite dish as leftovers for two nights in a row, it felt a bit passé in 2024, even when surrounded by that dazzling OLED dash and glitzy ambient lighting.

In every important metric – performance, handling, roadholding, ride quality, packaging and (particularly) refinement – the battery-powered Cooper is the more vibrant and alive option. And truer to the vision of the original’s creator, Alec Issigonis, as a result.

There are no crash-test ratings for the 2024 Cooper at the time of publishing.

The previous F56 managed four out of five stars with ANCAP. 

On the driver-assist tech front are AEB, lane departure warning, lane keep assist, blind-spot monitoring, rear cross-traffic alert with braking, rear-collision prevention, driver-attention monitor, tyre-pressure monitor, auto high beams and an exit warning.

However, at the time of publishing, no AEB operating parameter data was available.

Other safety features include adaptive cruise control with automatic speed-limit assistance from Classic-grade and up, anti-lock brakes, electronic stability and traction controls and nine airbags (front/side/head and interaction centre-front airbags).

A pair of child seat tether latches and twin ISOFIX latches are fitted within the rear seats.

Lexus offers a five-year and unlimited kilometre warranty, and LX buyers get three years of complimentary membership to the brand’s ‘Encore Platinum’ owner experience, which includes three years of capped price servicing, free loan cars at the time of service, invites to events, discounts on fuel at Ampol outlets, and four uses of ‘Lexus On Demand’ which lets owners swap into another Lexus model for up to eight days at a time, as well as eight free uses of valet parking at certain locations.

Servicing on the LS occurs once every 12 months or 15,000km and is fixed for the first three years at $595. Very cheap for the space it plays in.

Like all Minis, the Cooper comes with a five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty and five years of roadside assistance.

There are no set service intervals, as the car’s onboard computer will alert the driver based on condition and wear/tear. That said, we recommend going every 12 months or 10,000km, just to be on the safe side.

Mini also promotes several prepaid service plans on its Australian website. According to BMW, “… both new and used Mini owners can upgrade to a MINI Service Inclusive plan for 5-years/80,000km (whichever comes first).”