MG Cyberster vs LDV D90

What's the difference?

The Cyberster is certainly an impressive thing in a lot of ways, but if you were expecting a perfect sports car from MG, you'll be a bit disappointed. 

It's quite expensive if you're looking for a nice EV, but on the flip side it's quite cheap if being fast is your main concern.

If anything, the Cyberster is an exciting look at what the brand is capable of, even if it's a bit rough around the edges.

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.

MG reckons the Cyberster draws on the proportions of classic roadsters like its MG A and B from the ‘50s and ‘60s.

And I reckon that’s about where the comparison ends, really.

But don’t get me wrong, I think it’s got some pretty angles and nice elements.

It’s got the long bonnet, but its cabin isn't set so far back and its aerodynamic lines and curves probably weren't a priority back then either.

This is the standard colour, English White, which is more like off-white or cream or beige.

You can have a red roof on the lighter colours, white, silver, and grey, but red and yellow Cybersters have black ones.

The tail-lights at the back were inspired by the union jack, but they’re probably one of the elements on this car I'd put in the ‘tacky’ column.

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.

A three-screen dash sounds a little daunting at first, but it’s not that far from the giant screens in some new cars now.

The central 10.25-inch screen is info only, while the flanking 7.0-inch screens are touchscreens, as is the climate control screen in the console.

As much as I’m a fan of physical buttons where possible, this car shows that multiple screens means you don’t need many sub-menus.

Basically, this feels like a lot, but you get used to it relatively quickly.

And while it also seems like MG’s software has become more intuitive and less laggy, the placements of the screens is a little annoying - the side screens on the dash are blocked by the steering wheel, and the central touchscreen is a bit fiddly.

Like I mentioned, no wireless phone mirroring is a let-down and there’s not really an obvious place to put a phone, but the ability to level out the cup holders is kind of interesting and the central storage where the USB-A and C ports are is big enough.

There’s a narrow bit of storage behind the seats, but the boot is actually 249 litres and seems much more usable than you might expect.

It's also worth noting the Cyberster comes with an AC slow charging cable as standard, but not a DC fast-charging cable for plugging in at some charging stations.

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.

Okay, here’s where the Cyberster gets impressive.

Its dual-motor set-up combines a 150kW front motor and a 250kW rear motor for a total of 375kW.

Peak torque is a hefty 725Nm.

All that is enough to get you and two tonnes of MG from zero to 100km/h in 3.2 seconds.

Sure it tops out at 208km/h, but the rush of hitting highway speeds is already enough to put your licence at risk.

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 MG Cyberster has a 77kWh battery and a claimed efficiency of 19.1kWh/100km.

While that means its claimed driving range of 443km relies on a bit of energy to be recuperated from braking, something you don’t really get on the highway, it actually works in the car’s favour during dynamic driving.

After 264km of driving on a test loop that included some urban but mostly highway and rural driving, the Cyberster’s trip computer displayed a 19.4kWh/100km average consumption.

The battery sat at 27 per cent, with 108km estimated range remaining.

While 443km of total range seems optimistic for a car that’s likely to be driven relatively quickly a lot of the time, the efficiency of the Cyberster held up better than you might have expected.

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.

There’s good news and bad news about the Cyberster from behind the wheel.

The good news is it’s quite easy to drive this thing very fast. 

The bad news is it feels like it would be quite easy to get sick of as a day-to-day car, depending on your situation.

The first thing I noticed is the seat feels a bit high, even at its lowest setting. That's likely due to the placement of the battery pack under the floor of of the car.

Following that, if you’re taller than me (I'm five foot 11), it feels like the wrong road surface will have you nudging your head into the roof liner.

That mechanical roof should take about 15 seconds to lower or raise, and that can be done at speeds up to 50km/h.

It could be a symptom of trying to keep 1985kg tied down, but some of Melbourne's highways and arterial roads between 70 and 100km/h had the Cyberster bobbing quite a bit.

But the suspension doesn't let individual bumps intrude too much into the cabin, so it’s not all bad.

Similarly, there’s good and bad when it comes to the steering and braking.

The first being that the steering seems pretty accurate, even though the feedback is a bit numb. 

The braking on the other hand is handled by some pretty capable Brembos up front that pull the heavy roadster up quickly, but don’t always clamp as hard as you might expect when approaching a traffic light at 60km/h.

But stopping’s one thing, and going’s another.

There are three main drive modes, Comfort, Sport, and Super Sport, which mainly alter the acceleration intensity. And they feel well calibrated.

Comfort keeps things calm and cruisy, Sport is plenty for the road, and Super Sport has the potential to draw the attention of the authorities.

There’s good adjustability when it comes to regen braking, and even a decent single-pedal driving mode.

Aside from a couple of particularly heinous roads, the Cyberster held mostly flat when cornering at high speeds, but the potential for its suspension to let its wheels lose their footing might - or should - stop you from pushing the MG too hard.

At high speeds, there’s a bit of wind noise that you really can’t complain about if you’ve just purchased a drop-top, but the noise, vibration and harshness is decent, all things considered.

My only gripe with the interior fit out is that the passenger seat wobbles a little, and rattles on the surface behind it before moving it forward.

It’s impressive what this car can do in terms of performance, it’s just a shame it’s not more playful.

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.

MG has a 10-year/250,000km warranty that’s pretty impressive by industry standards, and the warranty also covers its EVs.

It’s important to note that the convertible roof is one of a few items (including 12-volt batteries and light bulbs) that MG covers for less than 10 years. In the case of the roof it’s only five.

It’s worth closely reading the fine print before you crack into buying a car, regardless.

There are also ten capped-price services which occur every 12 months or 25,000km, ranging from $246 to $785. The average price per service is $503.40.

MG also offers free roadside assist for the period of the warranty.

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.