Mercedes-Benz EQS vs Chery Tiggo 4

What's the difference?

It’s unquestionably fast, certainly luxurious, but I’ll be honest, I don’t think the EQS is going to be for everyone. The styling will be challenging for some and the glittery interior tech offering might be a bit much, even for the more rusted-on Benz traditionalists.

Then again, shouldn't an electrified flagship be all about challenging the status quo, trying new ideas, and bringing new fans to the brand? If anything, I think that might be what the EQS does best.

If you’re just looking for an affordable hybrid which will save you money at the pump, the Tiggo 4 will do the trick, but there are so many little things which could be better here, it’s evident you’re getting what you’re paying for.

This makes the Tiggo 4 hybrid a bit of a let down, because the other Cherys I’ve driven recently have been pleasantly surprising given their price-points, not to mention the price-gap between the Tiggo 4 and many of its rivals is nowhere near as large.

We’re going to start with design, because from the outset it is a topic which simply must be addressed.

Mercedes has flipped the script when it comes to its next-generation design language worn by its dedicated range of ‘EQ’ electric cars. It follows a trend we’re seeing across the industry of larger, more amorphous vehicles which need the space to accommodate batteries, but also the aerodynamic traits to extend driving range and keep energy efficiency as high as possible.

The issue when it comes to the EQS is it essentially puts the iconic S-Class shape, refined over generations, in the bin, and replaces it with something a bit more challenging to the eye.

Gone are the angles, louvres, and deeply three-dimensional grilles, replaced by sleek rounded edges, wheels which reach to the very edges of the chassis, a blank, almost plasticky grille and a more liftback-like profile than one of a traditional sedan.

You’d better get used to it, too, because the smaller EQE is near identical in shape, a trend which will no doubt continue across other EQ models.

It’s the finer details that add character, particularly for the 53 with its AMG-leanings. The lack of shapeliness down the side makes the massive 22-inch wheels stand out more, and the rear three-quarter might be this car’s best angle, with a colour-matching spoiler flicking up off the small bootlid, and delicate badgework illustrating this car’s place in the world. Our car, which appeared in a silver shade timeless on Mercedes-Benz models, made the black AMG highlights on the front and rear bumpers shine, and some of the usual Benz shape is claimed back through the EQS’s LED light profile, both at the front and rear.

There’s no doubt it’s a step into the future, and an overall shape which is a marriage of both form and function. While looks are always subjective, I still think it may be a hard sell, even to some of the most committed fans of Mercedes design.

On the outside, I think the Tiggo 4 Hybrid is pretty generic and inoffensive. It shares its 'box-on-wheels' aesthetic with cars like the outgoing Mitsubishi ASX and Hyundai Venue, which, to be fair, have been strong sellers.

It might not be an eye catcher, then, but there’s something to be said for not trying anything controversial, and this is pretty consistent across Chery’s range. In fact, compared to some brands in the market, Chery is doing a solid job of design consistency for its mainline SUVs.

Highlights on the outside include the enormous grille and contemporary LED light strip across the rear.

On the inside things also look pretty swish for this compact SUV category. The seats immediately jump out as a highlight, big and lavishly trimmed in comparatively soft synthetic stuff. The glitzy steering wheel and dual-screen layout continues from other Chery products and the dash design is tidy, if a little generic.

The EQS is enormous, so it’s a good thing there’s huge amounts of interior space, even for what is ostensibly an S-Class, and with its bespoke electrified underpinnings, it also scores the kinds of innovations we like to see from electric cars.

These include things like a huge cutaway under the floating dash for extra storage, which the brand has seen fit to add elastic tie-downs so your objects don’t go flying in corners!

Storage up front is otherwise excellent with decent bins in the doors with height-limited sections for bottles, a flip open tray which houses the wireless charger and a set of fold-away bottle holders, and split-opening armrest console box which is deep and features yet another set of USB-C outlets.

Adjustability is great for front passengers, but ergonomically I found something a little weird about the digital dash. For me to rest my arms and hold the wheel, I had to set it so low the top of the wheel obscured the instruments, and if I set it high enough to see the full cluster, to comfortably hold the wheel my elbows would need to float above the armrests. Weird.

It doesn’t end there for the entirely touch-based controls either. While the (admittedly very cool-looking) wheel is packed full of buttons and touch sliders, they require near-surgical precision to operate with your thumbs, distracting while you’re driving, and the enormous centre screen’s main drawback is the fact CarPlay, for example, was not designed for the buttons and functions on the far left to be a metre away from where the driver’s hand is. Again, it’s distracting to have to lean out of your seat to hit the ‘back’ button on most context menus.

I would like to tell you at this point the Mercedes-Benz menus are mercifully simple to aid you with such an overwhelming system, but this isn’t true either. For some reason, there’s a ‘vehicle settings’ menu accessed easily through the main panel, or another menu with a separate set of key functions activated by a car-shaped shortcut button on the floating console. Why? Why aren’t these menus the same? I discovered this in my attempts to use the ‘raise vehicle’ function when faced with a steep driveway. You’re going to need to use this function often in a car measuring over 5.2 metres long, so hiding it in a confusing menu is an interesting choice.

The back seat is where the EQS should shine, and in terms of space it’s stellar. I can barely touch the seat in front of me when set to my own (182cm tall) driving position. It comes with some soft pillows which attach to the headrests, the sunroof extends back there nicely while not impeding on the great headroom, and the lavish trims all continue into the doors and seat bases, too.

The drop-down armrest has a trick pop-out bottle holder in it, and there are a further two on the doors. Amenity-wise rear passengers score four adjustable air vents with two climate zones adjusted via their own touch-panel, but I was interested to see there was a lack of screens back there.

This is particularly notable as most S-Classes are bought to be driven in rather than to drive, and the screens are so much in the front, I was expecting a matching offering for rear travellers. Not so.

You also can’t adjust the rear seats at all, and unlike some EVs coming out in this space, there’s no recliner mode for the full business-class experience.

The boot is much larger than in the smaller EQE, with the EQS making use of its extended dimensions nicely. The floor is fully flat, and has a secret compartment underneath for the storage of both your included Type 2 to Type 2 public AC charging cable, and Type 2 to wall-socket converter for garage charging.

With a total space of 580 litres, the EQS comfortably consumed our entire CarsGuide luggage set with space to spare.

I can see this car having a lot of wow factor on a dealer forecourt but up close things are less good. The software on the screens is pretty ordinary; hardly the sharpest, fastest or most logically laid-out. There’s a selection of clumsy-looking themes, and while the multimedia portion has a logical smartphone-style main menu, beneath lies an array of confusing and inconsistently-labelled sub-menus.

The digital dash could be smoother and better looking and it’s a bit confusing to use with the poorly labelled buttons on the steering wheel.

The centre console area is finished in a gloss finish, which is easy to scratch or smear with fingerprints. Up front underneath the main screen is an entirely separate dot-matrix style climate control panel with actual physical buttons. It looks a bit clunky compared to some other solutions on the market, but at least it’s clearly labelled and straightforward to use.

Somewhat infuriatingly, though, interacting with this climate panel brings up a menu on the touchscreen which you don’t need and it takes several seconds to go away. Why?

The cabin is reasonably practical from there, though. There are decent bottle holders in each front door and a further two atop the console. There’s a pass-through beneath, good for handbags and the like. There are some strange additions, like an upright holster with rubberised sides which seems to be for a phone, and behind the shifter there’s a key fob-sized cut-out, but it’s gloss finished, so it will scratch if you actually use it.

The wireless phone charger is tucked away underneath, which makes your phone hard to get at in a pinch, and easy to forget when you exit.

Ergonomically, this car is a bit strange. The seat base is very high, so for me (at 182cm tall) even with the driver’s seat set to its lowest position, my head feels close to the roof. Plus, I’m peering down on the instruments, rather than have them at a comfortable height.

However, there are soft-touch surfaces adorning the doors, which can’t be said for every car in this segment and the rear seat hasn’t been forgotten, either.

I fit pretty comfortably behind my own driving position in terms of knee and headroom and the plush seat trim continues.

There’s a nearly flat floor, so while it’s a reasonably narrow vehicle, at least someone in the centre position will have somewhere to put their feet.

On the amenity front for rear passengers, there’s a small bottle holder in each door, pockets on the backs of the front seats, a weird storage tray and USB port on the back of the centre console and a drop-down armrest with two shallow cupholders. There’s just a single adjustable air vent for rear passengers, so they’ll have to fight over who gets the airflow.

The boot surprised me. It looks tiny, but the brand claims it weighs in at 470 litres. On top of this, the floor is a strange shape because the 12-volt battery is under the floor and doesn’t quite fit level.

However, when I went to load the full three-piece CarsGuide test luggage set, I was surprised to find it fit snugly, with the tailgate able to shut without a problem. I was also impressed to find a space-saver spare wheel and not just a repair kit under the floor.

The Tiggo 4 Hybrid we’ve been driving for this review is the top-spec Ultimate, which wears a price-tag of $34,990, drive-away.

The surprising thing about this is how close it is to rivals. Yes, the Tiggo 4 Hybrid is still more affordable than most of its contemporaries, but it’s not by the same massive margin as its larger models like the Tiggo 7 PHEV ($39,990), which undercut the outgoing Mitsubishi Outlander PHEV by almost $20,000.

Instead, the Tiggo 4 Hybrid only just slips under a Toyota Yaris Cross GX hybrid ($34,790) although the margin increases considering Chery’s offer is drive-away. It also continues to look impressive compared to popular hybrid alternatives from more traditional automakers, like the exxy Honda HR-V (from $39,900) and the sightly larger Hyundai Kona (from $36,950).

The Tiggo 4’s value proposition is also complicated by how much competition there is in this small SUV space. A Haval Jolion hybrid, for example, can be had at $32,990, drive-away and is a slightly larger vehicle with a similar warranty offering, while MG’s ZS Hybrid+ can be had from $33,990, also drive-away, giving you plenty of things to think twice about.

Still, compared to those base prices for rivals, Chery is offering a top-spec and the Tiggo 4 Hybrid is pretty well equipped in this Ultimate form.

On the outside there are some expected things like 17-inch alloys and LED lighting, while on the inside the Tiggo 4 punches above its weight with things like dual 10.25-inch scregens for the multimedia and digital dash, wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, synthetic leather seat trim with power adjust for the driver and heatin in the front two positions, dual-zone climate, a sunroof, ambient interior lighting, a wireless phone charger and a six-speaker stereo system.

There’s also a pretty good 360-degree view parking camera, walk away locking and auto-folding wing mirrors.

At this price, and in this segment, you generally have to spend a lot more to get this level of kit.

In the electric era, do performance figures matter? AMG would argue a resounding ‘yes’ although I would argue the art for premium automakers like Mercedes is now in producing suspension setups that can handle the weight of batteries.

Regardless, the EQS has a dual-motor setup, capable of providing a whopping 484kW/950Nm in its standard form, or an even more incredible 560kW/1020Nm with the Dynamic Plus package. Look, you’re spending over $328,000 already, what’s an extra $8k or so to put pretty much any other four-wheeled object in your rear-vision mirror? With the Dynamic Package, a sprint time of 3.4 seconds is… brutal.

The four-wheel drive system is necessary to keep all that power under control. While some enthusiasts may be turned-off by the four-wheel steer function, I’d read on to the driving section to see why it’s not only worth having (try turning a 5.2-meter long sedan around without it) but also not as intrusive as you think it’s going to be in the corners.

The Tiggo 4 hybrid variants pair a 1.5-litre four-cylinder petrol engine with a relatively large electric motor housed in a transaxle-style unit driving the front wheels. In effect, it's continuously variable without being a much-derided CVT auto.

Weirdly, Chery doesn’t state combined power figures, just separate ones for each power source, with the engine producing 72kW/120Nm and the electric motor producing 150kW/310Nm.

You’ll note the electric motor is much more powerful than the engine, which has an effect on the way this car drives.

Even at the official energy consumption of 23kWh/100km, the EQS’ drivetrain is essentially the electric equivalent of wielding a massive V8 under the hood. It’s not by any measure impressive, but then, with 107.8kWh of lithium batteries under the floor, it’s perhaps impressive it’s not worse than an Audi e-tron, particularly since the EQS weighs in at nearly three tonnes.

The battery is one of the largest on the market in Australia, offering the EQS a driving range of 585km on the WLTP cycle. Very impressive.

On the charging front, the EQS can charge at up to 200kW on DC thanks to an advanced cooling system, and on AC charges at 11kW in its stock form or 22kW with an optional $2490 upgrade. Again, at $328k, why wouldn’t you want the best charging system you can get for so little extra?

You can also package in a Mercedes-Benz branded wallbox for your home garage, valued at $1450 before installation costs.

To give you an idea of charging times: Expect a little over two hours (from 10 per cent) on a common 50kW DC public charger, nearly ten hours from an 11kW AC public charger, and a number not even worth mentioning from a home wall socket.

The whole point of this plugless hybrid set-up is fuel efficiency and on paper it’s not as good as some rivals.

The official combined cycle (urban/extra-urban) economy number is 5.4L/100km, but we easily beat that claim on test with a figure of 4.5L/100km. Worth noting that average came primarily from urban and expressway driving. It seems the hybrid transmission might require significantly more combustion input in freeway scenarios, hence the higher official claim.

A 51-litre fuel tank translates to a 944km range using the official economy figure and around 1100km based on our on-test average.

The EQS is quite surreal to drive, and you’ll notice a whole bunch of odd things first.

Immediately the driving position will be surprising. It’s nothing like what a traditional sedan feels like. This is because you sit high in the EQS. This helps facilitate extra under-floor space for the batteries, but the way Benz puts it, this driving position is deliberately SUV-like to grant buyers the more desirable view of the road which they now (apparently) seek.

It has some oddities, as mentioned earlier, with the fixed digital instrument cluster, and the way the wheel can block it depending on your height, but on the whole I found visibility in the EQS to be pretty good, despite limitations out the distant rear window.

Sound-wise AMG has created a bespoke soundscape for its electric models, two soundscapes, in fact. One sounds like a facsimile of a distant, digitised, V8 (weird) while the other is a bit more sci-fi. I can’t decide which one I really like, but props to the brand for thinking of individual sounds for things like accelerating, regenerative braking, as well as turning the car off and on. There’s even a humming tone for when the car is idling. 

AMG says “it doesn’t work without sound” and I suppose it does add some sort of feedback to the experience which would otherwise be missing. I’d rather have it than not I suppose is the take-away here.

The acceleration is completely over-the-top in Sport or Sport+, allowing you to move such a large vehicle forward in an almost comically quick fashion. It has the sudden urge of a Tesla, but with an element of grace that follows courtesy of the adaptive suspension which, not only settles the ride, but keeps the car comfortable.

It is the suspension though which sets cars like the EQS (and even rivals from BMW) apart from the likes of Tesla. The ride in the EQS is superb, befitting the heir apparent to the S-Class throne. It’s hard to find a ride so void of issues, particularly in the everyday Comfort drive-mode. It’s not just the fact I can’t complain about brutality from this car’s oversized 22-inch wheels, but also there has clearly been delicate work conducted to control the rebound, body-roll, and jiggle which can occur as a result of moving around a near-three-tonne chunk of aluminium, steel, lithium and leather at enthusiastic speeds.

This settled ride combines gloriously with the four-wheel steer system to make the EQS a keen corner carver, despite gravity constantly working against it.

I was surprised to find the four-wheel steer system to be pretty much identical in feel to the system also employed in the EQE and new C43, in that it is unobtrusive to the overall feel of the car, only helping to add a little extra turn-in to the corners when need be.

In a vehicle as long as the EQS it’s a bit more noticeable, and requires a moment of brain-adjustment, as the car (bizarrely) goes exactly where you point it, requiring no over- or under-adjustments, the grip from the enormously capable four-wheel drive system refusing to let any shift under sensible driving conditions. 

So, it’s comfortable enough to be an S-Class, fast enough to be an AMG, but I must say there is something a bit clinical about how it attacks the road. Missing some of theAMG drama we’ve become so used to from the brand’s combustion range, perhaps?

The Tiggo 4 is a strange one. This hybrid one in particular has me in two minds.

My initial impression was not a good one. The high seating position makes you feel as though you’re sitting on the car rather than in it, and the overly electrically-assisted steering removes you from feeling what’s going on at the front wheels.

Even the pedal feel is wooden, with the car having to modulate the electric and combustion drive components and blended regenerative braking at arms length, leaving the driver with little in the way of feedback.

The ride isn’t one of the worst I’ve had in recent years, with an overall soft enough edge to it, but it also doesn’t feel very sophisticated, and harsher over the rear than it is in the front, giving it an unbalanced character. On top of this, our test car had a couple of intermittent rattling noises in the B-pillar (around where the belt retainer is) as well as somewhere in the rear.

Acceleration is pretty impressive at speeds under 80km/h, however, with plenty of power instantly available from the electric motor, although this has the side-effect of being able to easily overwhelm the Sailun tyres this top-spec Tiggo 4 ships on.

One thing I quite like about the Tiggo 4, however, is how smooth it is. The seemingly primarily electric drive is excellent, particularly at lower speeds where this car is at its best, surging forward largely in silence with no annoyances from a fiddly transmission.

Even the way it blends the combustion power in is seamless, even compared to a Toyota, for example, with the engine distantly buzzing away only when required.

It's impressive that unlike the MG3 and MG ZS which have similarly powerful electric motors but run out of juice and lose a bit of punch when the hybrid battery is low, the Tiggo 4 does a better job of managing its battery reserve level, making sure the strong electric power is always available. This might mean the engine idles higher and longer, but with decent sound deadening, it’s not something you notice much.

Overall the Tiggo 4 is okay to drive. The hybrid components impressed me enough, but these are tarnished by sub-par driver feedback and inputs, handling, tyres and some ergonomic issues.

The Tiggo 4 has a lot of safety kit for this segment and for such an affordable price, so much so that combustion versions have a maximum five-star ANCAP safety rating (although this hybrid variant didn’t exist when it was tested).

Active equipment includes all the key stuff like auto emergency braking, lane departure warning, blind-spot monitoring with rear cross-traffic alert, adaptive cruise and auto high beams.

The 360-degree parking camera is a nice touch and there are seven airbags (dual front, side, curtain and centre).

Is the active stuff annoying? Yes, but you can most of it off and the car remembers your choice next time you start it, so you can turn the most egregious offenders, like lane departure warning, and speed limit assist off. 

Even when they’re on they are okay, but I found the driver monitoring to be the most annoying of the usual crop, pinging at you constantly, sometimes for reasons beyond my comprehension.

The one you can’t seem to permanently turn off is driver attention alert, which is annoying because it is this car’s most egregious offender, chiming at me for even daring to peer down at the digital dash to see how fast I’m going.

Like many electric cars, the warranty on the EQS is twofold. Firstly, there is the whole vehicle warranty, which from Mercedes-Benz is five years and unlimited kilometres, but the high-voltage battery is covered by a separate, and quite healthy, ten-year, 250,000km promise.

Benz throws in a three-year subscription to ChargeFox, offering owners free charging for the duration (to give you an idea, it cost me about $30 to charge the EQS to nearly full from 20 or so per cent).

Service intervals are surprisingly standard, at 12 months and 15,000km, and the EQS’ pre-paid service program is $1750 for three years, $2750 for four years, or $3250 for five-years, working out to about $650 a year. Far from the cheapest we’ve seen for an EV, but chump change for owners considering the up-front cost of this vehicle.

The Tiggo 4 Hybrid is offered with a seven-year/unlimited km warranty, seven years of roadside assist and seven years of capped price servicing with an eight year and unlimited kilometre warranty for the high-voltage battery.

The servicing is required once a year or 15,000km, with each service costing $299 for the first five years. It jumps from there, with a particularly expensive service at $736.62, dragging the yearly average for the warranty period up to $360 a year.

It’s a little pricier than Toyota, for example, but very reasonably priced compared to most.