Mini Cooper vs Kia Rio

What's the difference?

The new petrol Cooper range very gently evolves the upmarket Cool Britannia cliché BMW invented with the R50 back in 2001 and fostered with every iteration since.

More of the same, only slightly updated and just improved enough to justify trading the old one in. If this appeals to you, then go for it. This is the best petrol version yet. Probably.

But the Cooper’s real spark literally and metaphorically lies within the EV version.

Two very different Minis indeed.

Note: CarsGuide attended this event as a guest of the manufacturer, with meals provided.

The Rio S Manual is a fun-to-drive little car with a big practicality and multimedia offering in a segment rapidly heading towards extinction.

While some elements of the drive experience are reminiscent of budget cars from 10-20 years ago, Kia makes up for it by wrapping the Rio in a contemporary looking and feeling package, ready for the buyer who needs no frills and demands no nonsense. Until the manual transmission goes the way of the dodo, there is almost no better option.

You’ve got to hand it to BMW.

The new nose and triangular tail-light treatment on the 2013-vintage midsection look as if they were designed to all go together back in the day.

You could even mistake it for the previous Cooper EV, though side-by-side that’s less likely, since the latter ditches the upright windscreen for a more raked item, clamshell bonnet opening, horizontal bumper shutlines for shorter and more-angled ones, plastic wheel arch surrounds and pull-out door handles for flush units.

The wheels are further apart, the overhangs shorter and the lower-side surfacing broken up by an artful sheetmetal crease.

The overall length at 3876mm, width at 1744mm and height at 1432mm have increased by 55mm, 17mm and 18mm respectively over the old model, but the 2495mm wheelbase stays the same.

And that’s not all.

While notable equipment is missing, the Rio reclaims lost ground with the way it looks, and to a degree, the way it feels.

Ever since this new generation hatch launched, I’ve thought it brings a slick modern design to the city-car space, and even in its most rudimentary form as-tested (our car even came in the most basic ‘Clear White’ paint) it’s a great looking little hatch.

Sure, it doesn’t have the romance factor of the Fiat 500, nor the more delicate curvature of the much more expensive new-generation Toyota Yaris, but it certainly has a more refined visage than, say, the MG3 whilst feeling a bit more grown-up than the Suzuki Swift.

Solid, squared-off lines give this car a sporty pose, and its frowny-face and blocky rear round out a stout city-car persona, and I especially like the way even this most basic trim is adorned with contrast pieces, a spoiler above the boot lid, and body-coloured door handles and mirrors.

Sure, the 15-inch steelies dress it down a bit, but on the Rio these leave the impression of financial prudence rather than cost-cutting.

Inside is basic but tidy. The overall look maintains a hint of sportiness, with an appealing symmetrical finish to the dash.

There’s no question the Rio is a budget model when it comes to the touch though, with everything either a soft polyurethane or a nasty hard plastic, so while it all might look neat it’s far from the most comfortable place to be for long periods of time.

The basic dot-matrix multifunction display, chunky plastic air-conditioning controls, and polyurethane items from the wheel to the handbrake and shifter are reminders of a bygone era, but the overall aesthetic of the driver’s space is pleasing.

The previous Mini 3DR featured a messy and quite overbearing dashboard design from 2013 that’s aged about as well as Robin Thicke’s videos from that year.

In contrast, the new model's is far simpler and less protruding, dramatically boosting the sense of space and light.

That said, all four occupants still sit low, with an upright windscreen ahead and beside high window sills. There’s an oversized, circular screen in the middle of a pared-back dash and a neat row of toggle switches below. It’s still pure Mini in theme.

As before, there’s enough space for even the tallest people up front, reflecting the British icon’s German packaging, with plenty of head and legroom, as well as ample width. It’s only when you jump from the EV to the petrol Cooper that you realise this feels noticeably narrower.

All Coopers regardless of fuel share the 240mm (9.4-inch) central OLED display. It might seem like visual overload at first glance, with so much going on, but after a brief period of familiarisation, the touchscreen becomes a cinch to decipher and navigate. The colour-coded driving modes, pleasingly slick screen swipe action and ultra-crisp graphics are especially noteworthy.

Revel, too, in the twist engine starter and toggle gear selector actions, that also save space and are super natural to operate. This is button-lite dashboard de-cluttering done right.

As with the previous model, the Mini’s driving position has you sitting upright, but it’s comfortable enough on the S’ sports seats we sampled this on, and everything is within reach. There’s sufficient storage. The ambient mood lighting is fun. And kudos for the deployment of animal-free materials. In fact, the Cooper’s fresh textures are quite remarkable.

We’re less fond of the glass roof with no sunlight block; there are blind spots due to the thick side pillars; and some of the lower-placed plastics do not seem $60K’s worth in a supermini this expensive.

Rear-seat access isn’t graceful, with a narrow aperture to squeeze past and a slow-moving electric seat to wait for, but that should surprise nobody given this car’s size. There’s enough space for two adults and not much else really. It’s pretty basic back there.

And even further back, Mini quotes just 210 litres VDA of luggage capacity, rising to 725L with the twin backrests dropped.

Don’t forget, though, that no spare wheel exists. Just an ever-fiddly tyre repair kit.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the Cooper…

I'd argue the key reason to buy the Rio at this end of the market is that it has the most space and largest cabin relative to its rivals, bar maybe the Suzuki Baleno.

All-round practicality is great, with front passengers scoring a low, sporty seating position with a high roof, and so much width in the cabin it almost feels like the Rio belongs in the next segment up.

Storage options up front include a large bottle holder and bin in each of the doors, dual cupholders next to the handbrake up front, and a large storage tray underneath the climate unit. Unlike the Yaris or Mazda2, the Rio features a small armrest console box, which gives a small lift to the ambiance of the cabin.

Back seat passengers are treated to great space for this segment, which feels nice and open courtesy of the large rear windows. At 182cm tall, I have airspace for my knees behind my own driving position, as well as relatively healthy headroom and ample width, which is again more like a car in the next segment up.

Rear passengers don’t get adjustable air vents, but there is a single USB port, a single pocket on the back of the passenger seat, and small bottle holders in each of the doors.

Perhaps the Rio’s biggest drawcard is its boot capacity, which at 325 litres is one of the largest in the city car class. Unlike the Yaris, Mazda2, or Suzuki Swift, the Rio will actually accept the CarsGuide three-piece luggage set with the rear seats up, although the rear view was obscured by the medium case.

Thanks to the boxy roofline, the Rio offers a cavernous 980L with the rear seats folded down, and despite its abundance of room, maintains a space saver spare wheel under the floor.

Value seems less important here when you’re contending with a limited list of potential options at this end of the market.

The Rio S manual currently wears an MSRP of $19,690, and if you’re able to shuffle cogs yourself, it counts its rivals as the Suzuki Baleno GL ($18,490), Suzuki Ignis GL ($19,490), or Fiat 500 Lounge ($19,550).

There’s also the option of the MG3 (from $18,990) or Kia’s own much smaller Picanto (from $15,990).

I’m pleased to report the Rio S is one of the best among these options, though. Not only is this car much more modern in terms of its platform and design than pretty much anything on that list, it packs great standard equipment, too.

The major wow-factor item is the Rio’s best-in-class multimedia system, consisting of an 8.0-inch touchscreen with wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto connectivity, just one of the areas where this car will grab eyes over rivals.

Elsewhere is a predictably honest list of standard equipment, including basic halogen headlights, 15-inch steel wheels, manual air conditioning, cloth seat trim with a polyurethane steering wheel, a small multifunction display in the dash, two USB ports, a six-speaker audio system, and surprisingly, steering-wheel mounted controls.

There’s no keyless entry or push-start ignition, and this level of equipment makes you feel lucky to have automatic headlights. Sadly, the S manual also misses out on the basic luxury of cruise control.

It’s cheap, missing a lot of gear, and feels it with an abundance of plastic trims, but somehow this car gets by with almost everything you really, truly need. Sure, it’s a bit of a hark back to the equipment lists of the early 2000s, but if you’re just looking for a basic car to get the job done, you could do far worse than this Kia with its impressive multimedia offering.

Compared to the previous model, the new one brings more performance to the table.

The Cooper C uses BMW’s 1.5-litre three-cylinder turbo petrol engine, and pumps out 115kW of power at 6500rpm and 230Nm of torque from 1500rpm to 4600rpm. Previously it was 100kW and 220kW.

With a power-to-weight ratio of 91.3kW per tonne, it’s enough for a zero to 100km/h time of 7.7 seconds (previously 8.1s), on the way to a 225km/h top speed.

Mounted transversely, it drives the front wheels via a seven-speed dual-clutch transmission (DCT).

It’s still difficult to imagine Mini buyers not outraged by the manual’s disappearance. But don’t worry. There’s always the Suzuki Swift.

Stepping up to the Cooper S, you’ll find a 2.0-litre four-cylinder turbo-petrol unit delivering a useful 150kW at 6500rpm and 300Nm between 1450rpm and 4500rpm. It was 141kW/280Nm in the old version.

Boasting 117kW/tonne, this one needs just 6.6s to 100km/h and can achieve a 242km/h V-max.

Now known as the FAAR platform, it is an evolution of BMW’s UKL (Untere Klasse, German for ‘lower class’) modular architecture that debuted in the previous model.

Suspension is via MacPherson-style struts up front and a multi-link independent rear end.

The Rio is beginning to fall behind here with an antiquated 1.4-litre four-cylinder non-turbo petrol engine. Peak outputs aren’t far off where they should be for this segment, with 74kW of power and 133Nm of torque, although they arrive at the most distant end of the rpm range (6000rpm and 4000rpm respectively) so you need to rev it.

It can be clumsy to extract this power, too, with the engine paired in this circumstance to a six-speed manual which leaves a lot to be desired in terms of action and clutch feel.

While the abundance of ratios can be beneficial for fuel consumption, it’s clear this car was designed to be paired with the more modern three-cylinder turbocharged engine only available on the top GT-Line trim.

The new Coopers enjoy a drink more than before. By almost half a litre per 100km more, in fact.

Rated at Euro6 and running on 95 RON premium unleaded petrol, the Cooper C averages 6.0L/100km (F56: 5.6), while the more-powerful Cooper S ups that to 6.3L/100km (F56: 5.8).

In terms of carbon dioxide emissions averages, this translates to 137 and 145 grams per kilometre, respectively. With a 44L fuel tank, the potential range-average is up to around 730km.

The Rio S manual has an official combined cycle fuel consumption rating of 5.6L/100km, which is about right for a light car with a small engine.

On test, covering largely urban kilometres, I saw a higher but not unreasonable 7.4L/100km. Still, this number isn’t too far off what some larger cars with 2.0-litre engines are capable of.

Rios with this engine accept entry-level 91RON unleaded fuel, and have 45-litre fuel tanks. They are only compliant with Euro 5 emissions regulations.

So far, similarities in design, packaging, dashboard presentation and suspension layout suggest that the electric Cooper and petrol Cooper would be like fraternal twins from behind the wheel.

But in reality, the petrol-powered Mini feels much the same as the previous model, whilst the EV is more akin to what we secretly wish the fantasy Tesla Model 1 would be like. From the future.

Now, we never had a chance to drive the Cooper C, but the closely-related (though larger and heavier) Countryman C sibling – complete with the same powertrain – proved to be a willing and feisty performer once on the go, after what seemed like protracted turbo and DCT lag.

Why the hell can’t Mini just offer manuals again?

The Cooper S, meanwhile, completely lived up to brand expectations, with the familiar, revvy snarl of BMW’s sophisticated 2.0-litre four-pot turbo providing punchy of throttle response and effortless cruising capability, though there’s still some initial acceleration hesitation.

Thankfully, the Mini’s steering is always alert, offering precision and agility by the bucketful, backed up a chassis that seems permanently glued to the road – even in the wet and wintry conditions we had to endure.

Yet, other than a ride quality that seemed better than any previous-gen Mini we’ve ever encountered and so genuinely surprised us, the Cooper S seemed a little… stale compared to the glorious SE EV we had just (reluctantly) surrendered.

A bit like having a favourite dish as leftovers for two nights in a row, it felt a bit passé in 2024, even when surrounded by that dazzling OLED dash and glitzy ambient lighting.

In every important metric – performance, handling, roadholding, ride quality, packaging and (particularly) refinement – the battery-powered Cooper is the more vibrant and alive option. And truer to the vision of the original’s creator, Alec Issigonis, as a result.

A six-speed manual with a tiny non-turbo engine is an absolute oddity in today’s new car market, but as a result of its rudimentary approach, there’s something refreshingly honest about the Rio S.

The engine requires a wringing to extract the desired result, and a lot of action on the gears, as six speeds proves to be quite a few to work your way through before you achieve cruising speed.

As so much interaction is required with the transmission, I wish it was tighter when it comes to the clutch which feels a bit doughy at the best of times.

The Rio is very organic, though, with next to no electrical assistance for any of its interaction points offering the driver a high level of control.

The steering is direct, but as a result of a cheaper rack (with less teeth compared to this car’s Stonic relation), it feels simple and brittle when it comes to feedback.

The same criticism can be levelled at the suspension, which errs on the side of firm. This attribute combines with the low seating position to make even this most basic Rio an absolute hoot in the corners.

But it can be a little crashy over every-day potholes and corrugations, despite the abundant amount of rubber cladding the 15-inch steel wheels.

Visibility is superb out of this little car’s big windows, making you feel in control of your surroundings (necessary in the multi-lane confines and tight parking conditions of a city), and ergonomics in the cabin are absolutely on-point with the large touchscreen elements easy to reach and the instruments taking a basic no-nonsense form.

While noise levels are okay at urban speeds, they pick up above 80km/h, making the Rio more unpleasant to drive over long distances than, say, the more upmarket-feeling Yaris.

The Rio does find its place in this price bracket as a fun-to-drive, but predictably rudimentary experience, for the niche audience of drivers seeking an entry-level car who are still able to shift gears themselves.

Sadly, the Rio S misses out on any advanced active safety items. This is one area where city-sized cars are struggling to keep up, as expensive active safety systems tend to push them well into the mid-$20,000 region.

Unlike the mid-range Rio Sport, the S has no auto emergency braking, lane keep assist, or driver attention alert.

It makes do with the more basic array of brake, stability and traction controls, with the addition of a great reversing camera, three top-tether and two ISOFIX child seat mounting points, and six airbags.

The Rio carries a valid five-star ANCAP safety rating, to an earlier 2017 standard before its missing modern active safety items were mandated.

Like all Minis, the Cooper comes with a five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty and five years of roadside assistance.

There are no set service intervals, as the car’s onboard computer will alert the driver based on condition and wear/tear. That said, we recommend going every 12 months or 10,000km, just to be on the safe side.

Mini also promotes several prepaid service plans on its Australian website. According to BMW, “… both new and used Mini owners can upgrade to a MINI Service Inclusive plan for 5-years/80,000km (whichever comes first).”

The Rio again gets the edge on its budget competition with a lengthy seven-year, unlimited kilometre warranty. In this space it only butts heads with the MG3, which offers a matching promise.

Roadside assist is included for up to eight years if you continue to service with Kia, and there's also a capped price service program for the duration of the warranty, covering up to 105,000km.

The Rio needs to be serviced once every 12 months or 15,000km, and prices range from $269 and $608 per visit, for an annual average of $409.40.

Not the cheapest servicing schedule we’ve seen, particularly when compared with the likes of Toyota.