Mini Cooper vs Renault Clio

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 Clio RS is still a ton of fun and in Cup spec, probably the best compromise between price and livability. Despite its advancing years (it turns five this year, so ready to start kindy) and big brother Megane hogging the limelight with a fancy new model on the way, the Clio is a stayer. It's missing some frustratingly obvious things like CarPlay, AEB, rear airbags and rear cross-traffic alert, but it's hardly alone in the segment. 

With the departure of the Fiesta ST, though, the Clio returns to the top of the list of best small hot hatches on sale today.

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.

The Clio is a handsome small car but nothing out of the ordinary until you apply the very cool Liquid Yellow paint. That hue really is quite something and works even better with the black alloys of the Cup chassis.

The car has some lovely surfacing and in a recent-ish refresh, the slightly odd headlights were reworked, as were the front and rear bumpers which now link to the RenaultSport Megane. Sorry, Megane RS. The RS flag signature lighting is a nice touch, acting as DRLs at the bottom corners of the front bumper.

The lovely organic shapes of the Clio's sides still look good and the rather tough rear end with the chunky diffuser leaves you in no doubt that it's the proper RS not the halfway-house, 1.2-litre GT-Line.

Inside is starting to look its age, but graceful, a bit like Jamie-Lee Curtis' or George Clooney's embrace of grey hair. There are still some of the sharp edges I didn't like. It's certainly a Renault to look at and ergonomically works pretty well. One thing that has been fixed at some point is the switch on the gear selector - it won't bite you if you curl your finger underneath when you press it. You might think that's a small thing, but when you did it, damn it hurt.

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…

The Clio's interior is certainly snug. Rear seat passengers do okay for legroom but headroom is a mite marginal with the falling roofline for six footers. There are no cupholders out back, that curious French habit of supplying just a couple of cup receptacles of different and weird sizes persists. The front doors have space for bottles, the rears do not.

The boot is class-competitive at 300 litres (worth knowing the Trophy loses 70 litres to the Cup) and with the seats down stretches to a claimed 1146L.

The iconic 'Liquid Yellow' ($750 option) Clio I had for the week was the Cup spec chassis. The Clio RS 200, as it is officially known, comes in two specs - Sport and Cup - and there's a Trophy 220 at the top of the range. I had the Cup, which retails at $32,490 (plus on-road costs). The RS220 Trophy, with a bit more poke and stuff, weighs in at $38,990 if you're interested.

The Cup spec is heavily based on the more affordable ($30,990) Sport, which means you get 18-inch alloy wheels (painted black, so watch those kerbs), climate control, four speaker stereo, keyless entry and start (the "key" is still that unwieldy keycard style thing), reversing camera, cruise control, front and rear parking sensors, fog lamps, LED daytime running lights, sat nav, auto LED headlights, auto wipers, launch control, leather bits and pieces and a tyre inflation kit instead of any kind of spare.

The 7.0-inch 'R-Link' touch screen software runs the four speaker stereo with DAB digital radio, Bluetooth and USB. If you get the optional RS Monitor, there is a full-on telemetry system from which you can save your, er, "track day" data and overlay in Google Maps to compare with your mates' or past efforts. You can also change the piped-in engine sound to various different sound effects which are delightfully silly.

Android Auto is part of the breathtaking $1500 'Entertainment Pack' option that includes RS Monitor (which used to be standard) and no, there's no Apple CarPlay. Leather is a further $1500.

Bottom line is that you do get a decent spec bump from the $30,990 Sport along with the more capable (and less comfortable) Cup chassis.

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 200-equipped RSes pony up 147kW/260Nm, which is pretty much bang-on the obvious competition (Peugeot 208 GTI and the outgoing Fiesta ST), driving the front wheels through Renault's six-speed EDC twin-clutch. Unlike those two, there is no overboost function.

Dieppe's finest sprints from 0-100km/h in a claimed 6.7 seconds, pulling along a kerb weight of 1204kg.

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.

Renault claims 5.9L/100km on the combined cycle but, yeah, nah. My week was admittedly filled with plenty of horseplay and spirited driving, yielding 11.4L/100km. If you were careful you may fare better - but not that much better.

The fuel tank is a fairly standard 45 litres. It requires 98RON premium unleaded.

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.

The RS has always had a belter of a chassis. The Cup chassis became a thing just over a decade ago and is lauded by the fans as The One To Have. I've not always been convinced of this as my earlier drives of the Cup-equipped machines have usually been in close proximity to the Sport chassis. 

The Cup is slightly lower than the Sport, with 15 per cent stiffer springs and dampers and perhaps more importantly it scores 18-inch wheels with Dunlop Sport Maxx RT2 tyres, which you can reasonably expect to be a bit firmer than the 17s with Goodyear F1s on the Sport. And they are.

However, in most situations, the Cup chassis is perfectly benign. You certainly feel the bumps and lumps, but you haven't bought a Cup chassis for Lexus-like isolation. It's certainly sharper than the Sport chassis and when you're really giving it a go around the bends, the comfort deficit is more than made up for by the extra grip and poise.

The RS has always had a belter of a chassis.

The chassis is aided and abetted by a torquey 1.6-turbo that cheerfully...no, gleefully spins to the redline which could do with another thousand revs, but that's forced induction for you. The aluminium shift paddles need a good positive pull to get a gear, but that gear is delivered quickly and effortlessly. The Clio is a great deal of fun in Sport and Race modes, with throttle mappings and gearshifts becoming more aggressive as you switch through the modes.

The brakes are tremendously effective and the electronic limited slip diff (*cough* brake-based torque vectoring) ensures you'll hit your apexes and the tyres spend more time gripping than spinning.

But it's not all hairpins and off-camber left-right-lefts, is it? Plenty of owners have to live with the car in traffic day to day. Driving the Cup in isolation, I've changed my mind about it. I reckon it's the best of the two chassis settings. The city ride is better than decent, with the hard edges potholes chamfered off by the dampers and decent compliance. It's not too noisy, either.

On board the Clio is four airbags (no curtain coverage for those in the rear), ABS, stability and traction controls, a reversing camera and two ISOFIX points along with three top-tether anchors.

The Clio was awarded a five-star ANCAP rating in November 2013.

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).”

Renault says it was the first European maker to offer a five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty in Australia, and who are we to argue? The package also includes up to four years of roadside assist and three years of capped-price servicing.

Renault expects to see you just once a year or every 20,000km, which gives you a bit more headroom than some similar service plans, at least on the mileage.  The first three services will cost no more than $369 unless you need a new air filter ($38) or pollen filter ($46). At 60,000km or four years you'll cop $262 for a set of spark plugs. The company's website also suggests if the Clio doesn't like the state of its oil, it will beep at you until you have that attended to.