Mercedes-Benz GLS vs LDV D90

What's the difference?

The GLS63 is an intimidating beast from afar, but it rewards its occupants in almost every way. Yep, there really isn’t a box it doesn’t tick without serious compromise, such is its breadth of capability.

If there was ever a Swiss Army Knife of cars, the GLS63 is definitely a contender for the title, one that makes it very hard to wipe the smile off your face. Just make sure you can fit it in your garage first…

Looking for a cheap, powerful diesel SUV with huge cabin space and a humane third row for adults? The D90 is a really sound offering, especially considering the price of entry for this top-spec diesel which should resonate with Aussies a bit better than the petrol version.

It has plenty of issues that could be ironed out, but they’re all so small and not sale-breaking it’s almost annoying how much better the D90 could be with just a little work. Rivals should be looking over their shoulder for what comes next.

If the GLS63 was a Marvel superhero, it would undoubtedly be the Hulk. Simply put, it has road presence like few others. In fact, it’s frankly menacing.

Of course, the GLS is already pretty intimidating due to its sheer size and blocky design, but the GLS63’s full-fat AMG treatment takes it to another level.

Naturally, the GLS63 gets an aggressive body kit, with its purposeful bumpers, side skirts and rear spoiler serving as instant reminders of what you’re dealing with, but it’s AMG’s signature Panamericana grille insert that really hammers home the point.

Around the side, the GLS63’s 22-inch alloy wheels with staggered tyres (front: 275/50, rear: 315/45) make their presence known, positioned below the wheelarch extensions.

That said, some fun’s also had at the rear end, where the GLS63’s diffuser element integrates the foreboding sports exhaust system with quad tailpipes very neatly.

The focused Multibeam LED headlights also look the part, while the opposing LED tail-lights tie everything together outside quite nicely.

Inside, the GLS63 stands out from the GLS crowd with its sports steering wheel with Dinamica microfibre accents, and multi-contour front seats, which are covered in Nappa leather alongside the armrests, dashboard and door shoulders and inserts.

Of note, the doors bins are unfortunately of the hard plastic variety, which is very disappointing in a vehicle that costs this much. You would expect that cow hide would also been applied to them, but alas it isn’t.

The GLS63’s black headliner serves as an obligatory reminder of its sporting intent, and while it makes for a dark cabin, metallic accents are prominent throughout, while the optional trim (our test vehicle had carbon-fibre) mixes things up, alongside the ambient lighting.

And let’s not forget the GLS63 is still loaded with plenty of cutting-edge technology, including a pair of 12.3-inch displays, with one the central touchscreen and the other the digital instrument cluster.

Both are powered by Mercedes’ class-leading MBUX multimedia system and feature Apple CarPlay and Android Auto support. This set-up arguably remains the best there is today thanks to its speed and breadth of functionality and input methods.

Some colleagues I’ve spoken to like the way the D90 looks. To me, it looks like someone gene-spliced a Hyundai Tucson with a SsangYong Rexton in a lab, then grew it in a stew of peptides and this was the result.

What can’t really be communicated in images is how truly massive the D90 is. At over five metres long, two metres wide and almost two metres tall, the D90 is certifiably huge. Given that’s the case then, it’s admittedly almost admirable that only the side profile makes this thing look a little goofy.

I think LDV has done a pretty good job on the front, and the rear is simple but well resolved for a vehicle that rides on a ladder chassis (just take a look at the Pajero Sport for how ladder-chassis rear designs can get… controversial…).

The wheels, garnishes, and LED headlights are all tastefully applied. It’s not ugly… just confronting… size-wise.

Inside shares some familiar characteristics with sister-brand MG. Look from a distance and it’s all quite nice, get in too close and you’ll see where the corners have been cut.

The first thing I don’t like about the interior is the materials. Apart from the wheel they are all pretty cheap and nasty. It’s a sea of hollow plastics and mixed trims. The faux-wood pattern, which is clearly just a print on a plastic resin is particularly gnarly. Reminds me of some Japanese cars from 20 years ago. It might work for the Chinese audience, but that’s not where the market is in Australia.

On the other hand, you could say “well, what do you expect at this price?” and that is true. Everything is here and works, just don’t expect the D90 to be playing alongside the established players when it comes to fit, finish, or material quality.

The huge screen works to finish the dash, but that darned software is so ugly you’ll wish it didn’t. At least all the major touch-points are ergonomically accessible.

Measuring 5243mm, 2030mm wide and 1782mm tall with a 3135mm wheelbase, the GLS63 is an upper-large SUV in every sense of the term, which means it’s also very practical.

For example, cargo capacity below the load cover is decent, at 355L, but stow the 50/50 power-split-folding third row via the boot and it’s very good, at 890L, or drop the 40/20/40 power-split-folding middle bench, too, and it becomes a cavernous 2400L.

Better yet, the boot’s aperture is almost square, and its floor’s flat, while there’s no load lip to contend with, making loading bulkier items even easier. Up to four tie-down points are also on hand (depending on seating configuration) to secure loose cargo.

Under the false floor is the space-saver spare, which is to be expected, but what isn’t expected necessarily is the fact there’s also enough room there for the cargo cover when it’s not in use, which would be the case if six or more passengers are regularly onboard.

Moving into the power-sliding second row, the GLS63’s practicality is once again brought to the fore, with up to six-plus inches of legroom available behind my 184cm driving position.

There’s also two inches of headroom with the panoramic sunroof in situ, not to mention just enough toe-room. The GLS63’s small transmission tunnel and sheer width also mean three adults can be seated on the middle bench with few complaints.

Amenities-wise, the second row has map pockets on the front-seat backrest and a small fold-down cubby below the rear climate controls, with it containing two slots for smartphones and a pair of strategically placed USB-C ports.

The rear door bins can take one large bottle each, while a fold-down central armrest is also on hand, featuring a shallow tray and retractable (and flimsy) cupholders.

Alternatively, the $2800 Rear Seat Comfort Package fitted to our test vehicle subs in a tablet that can control the multimedia system, a wireless smartphone charger and a small cubby into the former, as well as a heated/cooled cupholder atop the rear of the centre console.

In the third row, it’s not quite as roomy if you’re an adult. With the middle bench in its most accommodating position, my knees still brush up against its backrest, which is to be expected given it’s primarily designed for children. I also have an inch of headroom there.

Nonetheless, getting in and out of the third row is relatively easy as the power-operated middle bench tumbles forward and provides just enough space to make entry and exit somewhat graceful.

When seated, rear occupants are treated to two USB-C ports and one small cupholder each, so they’re arguably taken better care of than those in the middle.

Child seats are well and truly accommodated, with four ISOFIX and five top-tether anchorage points fitted across the second and third rows, although the latter will inevitably prove to be a much tighter fit.

The driver and front passenger are still taken care of, with a front cubby taken up by two heated/cooled cupholders, a wireless smartphone charger, two USB-C ports and a 12V power outlet, while their door bins take one large and one small bottle each.

In-cabin storage options include the large central storage bin, which hides another USB-C port, while the glovebox is on the smaller side, with about a third of it taken up by the fragrance, which is pumped into the cabin to ensure the interior always smells its best.

The D90 is as massive on the inside as it is on the outside. I’m talking better space than a minivan, and nothing says that more than the humane third row. At 182cm tall, I not only fit in the rearmost two seats, but I can do so in as much comfort as any other row. It’s staggering. There’s actual airspace for my knees and head back there.

The second row is massive and on rails too, so you can extend the amount of room available to third-rowers – and there’s so much room in the second row, you’ll have space even with the seats moved forward.

My only criticism here is that the giant rear door is far enough forward to make clambering into the third row a little tricky. Once you’re there though there are really no complaints.

The boot is even usable with the third row deployed, with a claimed 343L of space. That should be hatchback-sized, but the measurement is a little deceptive as the space is tall but shallow, meaning it will only allow you to place smaller bags (a few, if you can stack them) with the remaining space.

The boot is otherwise cavernous with a wild 1350L available with the third row stowed flat, or 2382L with the second row stowed. In this configuration, with the front passenger seat slid forward to its furthest position, I was even able to get a 2.4-metre-long benchtop in the back. Truly impressive.

Without buying an actual commercial van then, this could be the cheapest way into such room, especially in a 4x4 bi-turbo diesel SUV. No arguing with that.

Second-row occupants get their own climate control module, USB ports and even a full-sized household power outlet, with more legroom than you could possibly need. My only complaint was that the seat trim seemed a little flat and cheap.

Front occupants get large cupholders in the centre console, a deep armrest box (with no connectivity in it, just a randomly placed DPF cycle switch), pockets in the doors, and an awkward binnacle under the climate controls that houses the single available USB port. My phone didn’t fit in there.

No complaints about leg and headroom in the front either, though, with plenty of adjustability to boot. The driver’s seat offers a commanding view of the road, although it can be a little unsettling to be so far off the ground in corners… more on that in the driving section.

On paper, the seven-seat D90 is immediately quite appealing. At $47,990, it is literally a lot of car for the money. This latest iteration, the bi-turbo diesel, is only available in Executive trim at this price, but you can pinch pennies further by choosing one of the lesser petrol turbo variants.

Regardless, and much like its MG sister brand, LDV is good at making sure that essential spec boxes are ticked.

This includes screens galore as is popular in the Chinese market, including a massive 12-inch multimedia screen and 8.0-inch digital dash.

A screen is only as good as the software that runs on it though, and let me tell you, the D90’s software is not good. A quick flick through the weirdly small menu reveals barebones functionality, terrible resolution and response time, as well as possibly the worst execution of Apple CarPlay I’ve ever seen.

I mean, it doesn’t even use all of that screen real estate! Not only that, but in a recent overhaul to CarPlay, Apple released software to utilise wider displays – so the car’s own software must simply be incapable of supporting it. Inputs also proved laggy, and I had to repeat myself on multiple occasions to get any use out of Siri. Unlike every other car I’ve used, the software in the D90 wouldn’t return to the radio after you hang up or stop talking to Siri. Frustrating.

I’d rather have a far smaller display that actually worked well. The semi-digital dash was functional, although barely did anything that a small dot-matrix display isn’t capable of and had one screen which for my entire week said ‘loading’. I’m still not sure what it was meant to do…

At least it supports Apple CarPlay at all, which is more than could have been said for segment hero, the Toyota LandCruiser.

The D90 does tick some necessary items that are quite good. LED headlights are standard, as are leather seats with eight-way power adjust for the driver, a heated multi-function steering wheel, 19-inch alloy wheels (which still somehow look small on this huge thing), three-zone climate control, eight-speaker audio system, electric tailgate, keyless entry with push-start ignition, a reversing camera, front and rear parking sensors, tyre-pressure monitoring, as well as a fairly substantial safety suite which we’ll explore later in this review.

Great on paper then, the bi-turbo diesel engine is a boon, as is the fact that the D90 rides on a ladder chassis with an electronically-controlled low-range terrain mode for the transmission, too.

You’d expect to pay more – even from Korean and Japanese rivals for this much specification. No matter which way you cut it, the D90 is good value.

The GLS63 is powered by a familiar 4.0-litre twin-turbo V8 petrol engine, with its version producing a thumping 450kW of power at 5750rpm and 850Nm of torque from 2250-5000rpm.

This unit is mated to a nine-speed torque-converter automatic transmission and AMG’s fully variable 4Matic+ all-wheel-drive system with torque vectoring and a rear limited-slip differential.

This set-up also features Mercedes’ EQ Boost 48V mild-hybrid system, which actually gives a 16kW/250Nm electric boost in short bursts, such as when accelerating off the line.

Speaking of which, the GLS63 sprints from a standstill to 100km/h in just 4.2 seconds, while its top speed is electronically limited to 250km/h.
 

The D90 was initially offered in Australia with a 2.0-litre turbo petrol four-cylinder, but this 2.0-litre bi-turbo diesel makes much more sense, both for towing and long-distance touring.

It’s a four-cylinder offering a healthy 160kW/480Nm. You’ll note that’s pretty close to Ford’s similar 2.0-litre bi-turbo diesel, which is currently offered in the Everest…

The diesel also gets its own transmission, an eight-speed torque converter automatic with computer-controlled ‘Terrain Selection 4WD’.

This gives the D90 diesel a max towing capacity of 3100kg braked (or 750kg unbraked) with a max payload of 730kg.

The GLS63’s fuel consumption on the combined-cycle test (ADR 81/02) is 13.0L per 100km, while its carbon dioxide emissions are 296 grams per km. All things considered, both claims are unsurprisingly high.

In our real-world testing, we averaged a fearsome 18.5L/100km over 65km of driving, split between highways and country roads, so not your usual mix. A very heavy right foot definitely influenced that result, but don’t expect to do too much better in a normal run.

For reference, the GLS63’s 90L fuel tank can be filled up with 98RON petrol at a minimum.

The D90 diesel is said to consume 9.1L/100km of diesel on the combined cycle, but ours didn’t score near that with a figure of 12.9L/100km after a week of what I’d consider “combined” testing.

The D90 a big unit, so that number doesn’t seem outrageous, it’s just nowhere near the claim… All D90s have 75-litre fuel tanks.

Frankly, the GLS63 has absolutely no right being as capable as it is. It’s a really big bus that’s legitimately convinced it’s a sports car half its size.

Being a GLS variant, the GLS63 has independent suspension consisting of four-link front and multi-link rear axles with air springs and adaptive dampers, but its party trick is the addition of active anti-roll bars.

In what feels like magic, the GLS63 is simply not intimidated by corners, despite having massive dimensions and a considerable 2555kg (kerb weight) to deal with.

The active anti-roll bars make the GLS63 so much easier to drive fast through the twisty stuff, almost eliminating body roll, taking one key variable out of the equation for the driver. Active engine mounts are also fitted, helping to settle things even further.

The electric power steering on hand is also good. It is speed-sensitive and has a variable ratio, which basically makes the set-up more direct when it needs to be. It’s typically light in hand, too, until one of the sportier drive modes is engaged and extra heft is added.

So, handling is scarcely believable, which means the ride must be compromised, right? Yes and no. With the adaptive dampers in their softest setting, the GLS63 is very compliant. In fact, we’d say it feels luxurious when compared to other high-performance SUVs.

That said, our test vehicle was fitted with the optional 23-inch alloy wheels ($3900), which look the part but expose sharp edges and other road imperfections, not to mention generate noise easily heard inside. Naturally, feedback is exacerbated in the sportier drive modes.

Anyway, there’s more performance, and the GLS63 has the rest in spades. Its engine is a powerhouse in every sense of the word. It’s so powerful, in fact, that it hilariously hunkers down off the line or when suddenly accelerating at low speed.

Thanks to the mild-hybrid system, wads of torque is available from the get-go, making for a highly responsive driving experience, even in those rare moments when the engine isn’t on song.

While not as characterful as some of the other members in the 63 series, the GLS63 still makes some thoroughly entertaining noises, with its sports exhaust system popping like mad while on the overrun.

All of this ability is very well and good, but you need to be able to pull up quickly, and the high-performance braking package (400mm front and 370mm rear discs with six-piston fixed callipers and single-pot floating stoppers respectively) mercifully does exactly that.

The D90 is easier to drive than it looks… to a degree…

It lacks some polish of its more established rivals, which results in a drive experience that isn’t bad, but occasionally frustrating.

The ride somehow manages to be soft and harsh at the same time. It undulates over larger bumps, while transmitting the worst parts of smaller, sharper ones to the cabin. It speaks to a lack of calibration between the suspension and dampers.

That having been said, the D90 masks its ladder chassis underpinnings well, with little of that typical body-on-frame jiggle that some rivals still struggle with.

The drivetrain is good, but a little unruly. As you’d imagine from the figures, there’s more than enough power on tap, but the transmission tends to have a mind of its own.

It will occasionally lurch between gears, pick the wrong gear, and off-the-line will sometimes be delayed before shunting the D90’s bulk forward with a sudden mountain of torque. It doesn’t sound particularly good either, with the diesel surging through the rev range with industrial crudeness.

By the time the D90 has reached cruising speed though, there’s really not much to complain about, with the D90 milling along with plenty of power in reserve for overtaking. The view of the road is commanding, but you really feel the D90’s high centre of gravity in the corners and under heavy braking. The physics of such a large object are undeniable.

I have to say, LDV has done a fantastic job of the D90’s steering, with a quick, light feel that betrays the SUV’s size. It manages to stray on the right side of lightness though, not being so disconnected that you lose a feeling of where the wheels are pointing. No mean feat in something this shape.

Overall then, the D90 isn’t bad to drive and has some genuinely great characteristics, it just also has a litany of small issues that get in the way of it being truly competitive with segment leaders.

The LDV D90 carries a maximum five-star ANCAP safety rating as of 2017, and has a fairly comprehensive active safety suite.

Included on the diesel is auto emergency braking (AEB) with front collision warning, lane-departure warning, blind-spot monitoring, driver-attention alert, traffic-sign recognition, and adaptive cruise control.

Not bad for the price, and nice that there’s nothing optional. Expected items include electronic traction, stability, and brake controls, as well as six airbags.

The curtain airbags do extend to the third row, and there’s the bonus of a reversing camera and a tyre-pressure-monitoring system.

There is a full-size steel spare under the boot floor, and the D90 also gets dual ISOFIX and three top-tether child-seat mounting points.

As with all Mercedes-AMG models, the GLS63 comes with a five-year/unlimited-kilometre warranty, which currently sets the standard for the premium market. It also comes with five years of roadside assistance.

The GLS63’s service intervals are relatively long, at every 12 months or 20,000km (whichever comes first). Better yet, it’s available with a five-year/100,000km capped-price servicing plan, but it costs $4450.

LDV covers the D90 with a five-year/130,000km warranty, which is not bad… but falls behind sister brand MG, which offers seven years/unlimited kilometres. At the very least it would be nice to have the unlimited kilometre promise.

Roadside assist is included for the duration of that warranty, but there’s no capped price servicing offered through LDV. The brand gave us indicative pricing of $513.74, $667.15, and $652.64 for the first three annual services. An initial six-monthly 5000km checkup is free.

All D90s need to be serviced once every 12 months or 15,000km, whichever occurs first.