Mercedes-Benz SL-Class vs Chery Tiggo 4

What's the difference?

The SL's overall score is somewhat skewed by everyday concerns, and rules are rules - an average punter will find the price of this car somewhat confusing and the devil-may-care attitude to fuel consumption bewildering.

If neither of these things are a problem, then the SL63 makes plenty of - well, not sense, because it's not a particularly clever or considered car - but it fills a niche that not so long ago we all thought would go the way of the dodo.

The fact it sells so few examples is betrayed by some of the cabin amenities and the fact that Mercedes hasn't put much effort into reducing the car's weight to improve its consumption or sharpen up the handling.

The fact it still exists at all is pretty damn cool, though, and for certain people an SL63 purchase is the culmination of a lot of hard work.

If it is your dream car, the SL63 won't disappoint. Everyone who rode with me said it was mightily impressive, but you've got to really want it. When you're not far off buying a Ferrari California T or Aston Martin V12 Vantage S for the money, you'll need a real yearning for the three-pointed star to go this way. And if you do, good luck to you - you've probably worked quite hard to get here.

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.

The SL has always been completely unapologetic about its size and seems to be designed to accentuate rather than hide its length and width. The long bonnet screams power and prestige, and get out of my way, and is reminiscent of the little-loved McLaren SLR project of some years ago.

The size of the Mercedes logo on the huge front grille leaves you in little doubt about the brand of car that’s about to pass you at speed and some might say (okay, I would) that its large surface area is a little vulgar.

Like the SLR, the design doesn't seem to have a particularly cohesive strategy, with a number of Mercedes elements from around the traps that climb over each other. Roof up it looks awkward because of the gigantic posterior while with the roof down it looks overly long and, again, tail-heavy.

Folding hardtops are notoriously cumbersome and need a lot of room to hide them, but the silent operation is something to behold.

Elements that are worth deleting if possible are the dodgy 'Biturbo' badges. It's that kind of bling that gets people raising their little finger at you.

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.

“Practicality” is about as relevant to this car as a code of ethics is to a drug dealer or a contract killer, because the SL63 buyer is hardly worried about cupholders and boot space. For what it's worth, there are four cupholders in the two-seater cabin (which might explain why owners aren't worried about their liquid carrying prospects) and a minimum boot space of 364 litres and a maximum - with roof up - of 504, which is actually not bad.

Cleverly, there's a little robot-operated luggage cover inside the deep boot that stops your gear from being crushed when the roof goes down.

There's also space in the long doors where you might secrete a bottle of wine that would get a NSW Premier fired if he thanks you for it, and a bin in the console to hide your phone.

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.

The SL63 is powered by Mercedes’ increasingly famous V8, with two turbos along for the ride to add oomph and cut the car's famous consumption, at least slightly. The 5.5-litre unit produces a massive 430kW and a scarcely believable 900Nm of torque.

All of that heads rearward via a seven-speed dual-clutch transmission that helps sling the 4.6m, 1848kg machine to 100km/h in 4.1 seconds.

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.

Much as is the case with the price, there's no real way to soften the blow here - the SL63 drinks like a footballer on Mad Monday, except it does it every day. The official combined cycle figure of 10.2L/100km is quite easy to double, as we did, averaging 21L/100km in mostly flowing suburban traffic. In the car’s defence, the accelerator pedal spent a good deal of time near the firewall.

The SL does have stop-start to help reduce its considerable environmental impact.

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.

There are a number of impressive things about the way the SL drives. Firstly, astronauts will be familiar with the galactic thrust of the V8. It seems endless, seamless and ready to sling the big coupe into the outer atmosphere. Few engines of any kind can match the relentless go on offer in the SL and much of the credit should go to the seven-speed twin-clutch transmission.

When you jump on the brakes and shift down, the exhaust keeps the show going with angry crackles and pops.

Containing a torque figure like the twin-turbo V8's requires a lot of electro-trickery to stop you from being launched off the road. The great thing about all that stuff is that it works unobtrusively and smoothly.

Mashing the carpet in an SL without traction control would create much sound and smoke but little forward progress, such is the twist on tap. The SL has a range of modes from full-nanny (which is meant to keep you on the slippery Alpine road you've chosen to get you to some Swiss ski resort) while turning the dial all the way around to Race loosens the bonds.

It's in this mode you'll have the most fun and it does seem that the intermediate settings are a bit of a waste of time. Race mode does little to diminish the amazing ride quality provided by the active suspension setup, but relaxes the reins on the huge rear tyres. Exiting roundabouts is suddenly a huge laugh, with the tail cheerfully breaking traction and the two-mode exhaust thundering in a most pleasant way.

Better still is that when you jump on the brakes and shift down, the exhaust keeps the show going with angry crackles and pops, with more on the way when you lift off. There's little to match the aural pleasures of a properly tuned V8 and Mercedes has resisted the temptation to quieten it down on the outside and generate a fake noise for the inside. Although that would be stupid in a convertible, if you think about it.

The SL63, despite its AMG badge, isn't about all-out handling, of course. The Ferrari California would definitely show it how it’s done on a winding country road. The SL is more about flow, building momentum and rarely shifting down to second gear. The monstrous torque is enough to keep things rolling but should you wish for a bit more of the exhaust bellow, second is there for the taking.

Hustling the big convertible feels wrong, not because it can't do it, but because it's not really what it's for. Having said that, it offers a kind of fun that nothing else on Earth will provide, not even a Bentley GTC.

With the roof up, the SL63 is a quiet place but not remarkably so. The huge sticky tyres do the cabin's hush no favours, with an annoying roar on a wider range of surfaces than you might expect.

Roof down, it's hardly a paragon of virtue. A lot of wind noise reaches the cabin, even well below the huge speeds the SL can reach. So if you want to talk, it's windows up you'll need to deploy the mesh screen that bridges the roll hoops.

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.

The SL63 is covered by Mercedes' three-year/unlimited kilometre warranty. And, er, that's it.

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.