Mini 3D Hatch vs Fiat 500E

What's the difference?

The Mini 60 Years is another classic special edition Mini and its definitely one for the fans. I'm not at all fussed by it and would quite happily save my money for a standard Cooper S. The Mini is still one of the most playful, interesting cars from a mainstream car maker and while it doesn't please everyone with its size and weight, it's tremendous fun to drive.

It's the kind of car I could own and I always feel comfortable in - it's the perfect size for urban environments but is just as much at home belting down a freeway on a long trip or scooting down a B-road just because.

A fun, funky EV which will no doubt appeal to lovers of Italian style, but also one which struggles a little on the range and price front.

Still, there’s no doubt that electrification has improved the Fiat 500 formula.

Always readily identifiable, Mini updates always add detail without touching the main game. I quite like the indicators, which are big LED rings surrounding the headlights, but then again I'm a sucker for lighting. I think the Mini looks terrific in three-door form and the Union Jack rear lights have grown on me. They're a bit silly but in a good way, which kind of sums up the car. The British Racing Green looks pretty good, too. Amusingly, the puddle lamp even has a 60 Years flavour.

You can spot the Cooper S by the centre exhaust and the 60 Years has its own set of 17-inch alloys.

The cabin is pretty much the same apart from the particularly warm hue of the leather. It's a classic colour for British cars but works nicely. In the Cooper S, the panoramic sunroof is split in two, but the front section opens. It does make the car feel a bit bigger, which is handy given it's pretty tight in there. The piping is a nice touch, too, although the Piano Black on the dash was so last decade rather than so last century but at least there isn't a slab of tacky wood. The fact the interior is otherwise unchanged means there are other cheap touches that somehow fail to ruin the ambience.

Mini calls its version of iDrive 'Visual Boost' for some reason, and it's displayed via a 6.5-inch screen set in a big round dial ringed by changeable LED lights.

It looks, well, it looks like a Fiat 500.

It’s actually bigger in every dimension than an ICE cinquecento, but it doesn’t really look like it, which is a good thing.

The 17-inch wheels look great, and big against the very small Fiat, and I like the hidden doorhandles, which make the already smooth-looking 500’s flanks look a little smoother still. But I can take or leave the little DRLs up front that are meant to act as little illuminated eyebrows for the headlights, which come over a bit too cutesy.

But I think the highest compliment I can pay it is that it looks like a regular Fiat 500 — one of the most successful reincarnations of a timeless design ever — and not some modern, eco-friendly version that would have killed the look. 

In the cabin, however, it’s definitely a more modern affair, with the big screen, the horizontal push-button gear selector, and the nifty push-button door openers.

Still, it’s all pretty familiar Fiat 500, only a little nicer, even if some of the plastics are far too hard and scratchy for a vehicle this expensive.

There are five colours available: Ice white, Onyx black, Rose gold, Ocean green and Celestial blue.

Yep, it's a small car so expect things to be reasonably cosy. I fit in there fine but I am neither particularly tall nor broad. Taller folks will fit just fine in the front (but not too tall, don't be greedy) while larger people might find themselves uncomfortably close to their passengers.

The rear seat is bearable for children and patient adults on short trips. At least they'll be well hydrated because as well as the pair of cupholders up front there are a further three in the back for a total of five. The Mini joins the NC Mazda MX-5 as a car with a greater cup capacity than passenger capacity. Front seat passengers can keep the water topped up as there are also small bottle holders in the doors.

There are two USB ports in the front seat and a wireless charging pad that doesn't fit bigger phones under the armrest. If your iPhone is the smaller size, the combination of wireless CarPlay and charging pad is excellent.

The boot is surprisingly big for such a small car, beating many of its cheaper rivals with 211 litres with the seats in place and 731L with them folded down.

The 500e is 29mm taller, 61mm longer and 56mm wider than the current ICE Fiat 500 (now 1529mm, 3631mm and 1683mm respectively), and it rides on a longer wheelbase, too .

That means more front-seat room and head room, but there’s still not oodles of space in the four-seat cabin, and especially in the back, where things are pretty tight.

I’m 175cm tall, and my head touches the ceiling in the back, and if I had another full-size human in the back with me, I’d want it to be someone I know well, because we’d be well and truly aquatinted by the time we got to our destination.

The front seats are more accomodating, but there is a strange tightness to the pedal area for the driver. It’s so tight, in fact, that when you rest your left foot, you have to be careful not to accidentally clip the brake pedal when driving.

The boot is a small 185 litres, too. But you’re not buying this for practicality perks, are you?

The 500e is not cheap by modern small EV standards — we’re looking at you, China — but it does arrive in one well-equipped trim level, called La Prima, with paint the only available option.

It's also, quite shockingly for anyone who has driven an ICE Fiat 500 lately, stacked with some truly high-tech kit.

 There’s heated seats for the first time ever, for example, and there’s 10.25-inch central screen with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, and wireless charging.

There’s a digital driver display, too, plus there’s faux-leather on the seats and dash, a panoramic glass sunroof and fancy push-button front doors (though with a mechanical back-up lever hidden in the door pockets should something go pear shaped).

Outside, you’ll find 17-inch alloys, as well as LED lightning all around, including the DRLs, and there’s keyless entry and push-button start, too.

But, and it’s a significant but, the 500e lists at $52,500 before on-roads , which — when you consider its size, battery and range — really edges it into the premium EV space.

A similar-sized EV from China can be had for under $40k, which means you are going to have to really love the 500e to drop that extra $15k or so.

The Cooper S has the usual 2.0-litre turbocharged four (the Cooper has a 1.5-litre turbo three-cylinder), serving up 141kW and 280Nm. Power finds its way to the front wheels via a seven-speed twin-clutch transmission and will push the 1265kg Cooper S to 100km/h in 6.8 seconds.

A single front-mounted electric motor delivers the power here, with 87kW and 220Nm on offer. Enough, Fiat says, to knock off 100km/h in 9.0 seconds. But it does feel quicker than that in real life, thanks to the way electric vehicles deliver their power.

There’s the usual EV single-speed gearbox, too, with power sent to the front wheels.

Mini reckons you'll get 5.6L/100km on the combined cycle. Maybe you could if you don't drive it like I did (I got an indicated figure of 9.4L/100km).

The Mini has stop-start to help cut fuel use around town and launch control to ruin those efforts.

The Fiat 500e’s 42kWh battery provides a smallish 311km driving range on paper, but when we got in it was more like 290km at 96per cent charged. A city car, then, rather than a long-distance hauler.

When it does come time to charge, you’re set up for 85kW DC fast charging which should take you from zero to 80 percent in 35 minutes. 

Driving a Mini is a unique experience. Almost no other car on sale today has the combination of that far-away, near-vertical windscreen and an A-pillar that is almost slim by today's standards. The side of the car is almost fifty percent glass, so vision is terrific. 

It had been a little while since I drove a Mini Cooper S so I was looking forward to the Mini bounce that I've always loved and my wife despised. Somewhere along the way, that bounce has faded somewhat, to the point where my wife says she doesn't mind it anymore. That must be a good thing, because while the ride is more refined, it's still a blast to drive, even if you're just getting around in traffic.

The Mini just loves point and squirt driving. The quick, well-weighted steering helps you swing the nose in and out of gaps and the handy slab of torque from the 2.0-litre ensures you stay out of trouble while doing it. The Mini also loves haring down a country road, the more secure-feeling ride belying its short wheelbase. The weight of the car probably helps keep things on the straight and narrow. It's pretty clever to make the car feel grown-up while also maintaining its sense of playfulness.

The driving mode switch doesn't make a huge amount of difference, with Sport mode adding a few apologetic pops from the exhaust.

Complaints are few, but there are too many buttons on the steering wheel and to my mind are all in the wrong place. By necessity, the controller for the media screen is practically on the floor and is crowded in by the cupholders and huge handbrake lever. But that doesn't mean Mini should take away the handbrake.

I have my reasons.

This is the probably the best-driving example of the Fiat 500 I’ve ever climbed into. Sure, it’s not quite as engaging as self-shifting a perky little manual, but it’s smoother, easier and more comfortable, and a whole lot better than ICE vehicles fitted with Fiat's odd dual-logic automatic gearbox.

The EV transition genuinely suits the little Fiat, admittedly sapping a little character, but also thoroughly modernising the drive experience, with smooth, constant acceleration, sharp-enough steering and a ride that’s mostly settled, only really becoming crashy over the bigger road imperfections.

The small dimensions here also help the EV reincarnation. Yes, it’s heavier than you might expect, weighing in at 1290kg (tare), with the batteries adding several hundred kilograms to the equation, but the 500e still doesn’t feel overly heavy, with the little Fiat remaining pretty light on its feet.

There are three drive modes on board, including the catchy Sherpa mode (because it will help get you where you’re going), which, when you’re running low on battery, kills the climate control and anything else it needs to preserve range and get you home. 

But you can’t shake the feeling that the 500e is a little expensive for such a specialist tool. It’s unashamedly a city car, but one that will cost you more than $50k, and which doesn’t feel quite premium enough in the cabin to justify that asking price.

There’s a heap of active safety stuff on board (again, unusual for a 500), with active cruise control, traffic sign recognition, front, rear and side parking sensors, blind-spot monitoring, AEB with pedestrian and cyclist detection, and more.

Still, the 500e only secured a four-star ANCAP safety rating, scoring just below the five-star cut off in Adult Occupant Protection, Child Occupant Protection and Safety Assist, with a lack of a centre airbag not helping.

As with parent company BMW, Mini only offers a three-year/unlimited kilometre warranty with roadside assist for the duration. You can buy an extension to five or hold your breath during negotiations with a dealer.

Servicing is condition-based - the car will tell you when it needs one. You can buy a servicing package that covers the basics for five years for about $1400 or step up to the near-$4000 option which throws in consumables like brake pads and wiper blades.

The fly in Fiat’s ointment is its ownership proposition, with a three-year, 150,000km warranty now way below par in Australia these days, even if the battery is covered for the standard eight years. 

Servicing is every 12 months or 15,000kms, and will cost $250 a pop for the first eight years, which is commendably cheap.