Nissan Juke vs Chery C5

What's the difference?

The Juke is a fun little car. It looks cool, it packs most of the important features and safety equipment, but while it can be fun to drive, it’s also a little clunky around town.

It’s so frustrating, because there is a great car in there somewhere, and it would take only small tweaks and enhancements to bring it out.

Can a new name, fresh face and suspension update save Chery’s sleek SUV coupe from the ignominy of being one of the least pleasant options in its ultra-competitive class?

Sadly, not enough has been done for us to recommend the new C5.

As an affordable, stylish, roomy and zoomy SUV, the Chery definitely provides showroom appeal, especially given the decent warranty.

But, with lots of little niggles still present to distract and frustrate, the C5 is far from A1. Plus, with prices now creeping up, it doesn’t even have the cheap pricing of the old Omoda 5 to get it over the line.

Heading into 2026, Chery still needs to do better than this.

Urban style is clearly what the Juke is about. It’s always been about this, but the original incarnation, while unusual, was a bit bulbous and awkward. The current version is a razor-sharp re-interpretation of the original.

Ugly duckling no more, the Juke blends the elements of Nissan’s current design language with its own unique take, in a clever way.

The roofline and bulbous face of the original car, complete with its ‘eye’ headlights are all maintained, but this time they look more contemporary with a splash of chrome and gunmetal plastic in the face, offset by gloss blacks running down the doorline.

The new light fittings look great and the curviness is also gently off-set with some sharp angles. The massive 19-inch wheels finished in a two-tone gloss black and aluminium brush keep this car looking like a concept come to life. Just don’t crash them into the curb. It would be very easy to.

The cool elements continue inside, with rotary air vents, a blend of textures, including a gloss grey for the vent claddings, with white stitching for the wheel, seat, and into the door cards, too.

There are touches of chrome about the place, and an ambient red LED light surrounding the shifter, which sits on its own little pedestal thing.

It’s quirky and punches above its weight when it comes to soft trims in the doors. Like most higher-grade Nissans the seats are pretty comfy, too, clad in a hard-wearing synthetic leather material.

But it won’t be for everyone, and it’s not without its downsides. The abundance of grey plastic down the centre console is a bit cheap, and the tech offering doesn’t match the youthful style.

The centre screen is adequate, but compared to many rivals it’s a bit small and dull, and the Juke is still missing a digital overhaul for its instrument cluster.

The black headlining, usually reserved for sportier cars, makes the cabin feel smaller than it is.

The new and narrower nose treatment is better, banishing the Omoda 5’s insectoid face straight into the bin. As an example of coupe-SUV design, the unaltered silhouette remains contemporary and is a defining signature for the series.

But, as before, the C5’s styling is hobbled by its narrow-gutted track width and highish (at 184mm) ground clearance, that give it a muffin-top and tippy-toed appearance respectively from most angles. Flashbacks to a Holden VN Commodore. Stance be damned.

Let’s look at the newcomer’s dimensions, compared to the Tiggo 4 for perspective: length is 4351mm (plus 44mm), width is 1831mm (+6mm), height is 1662mm (+2mm) and wheelbase is identical at 2610mm.

Still, there’s a positively Pollyanna-esque perspective to be gained here as well, since the C5’s extra size translates to a biggish small SUV inside a cabin that seems stylishly minimalistic. Or fairly basic. It all depends on your point of view.

Let’s take a closer look.

The Juke is a small SUV in the true sense of the word, sitting below the Qashqai which is more like a mid-sizer these days in terms of dimensions.

However, it’s quite cleverly packaged on the inside and is more useful than it first appears.

The front seats, for example, offer heaps of headroom and a surprising amount of width, and while the seats are manual, they’re pretty adjustable. I was able to find a great seating position.

There are big pockets in the doors with an integrated bottle holder suitable for even the largest bottles, although the centre console area is a bit less versatile, choosing its funky design over additional storage.

It features two good bottle holders, but a tiny armrest box and a shallow tray with one 12V socket and a USB-A outlet, as well as an auxiliary audio input under the climate controls.

On the topic of climate controls, I love the fact the Juke maintains a dedicated ventilation panel complete with buttons and dials for all the core functions. No touchscreen nonsense here.

The media screen, as mentioned, is a tad small, and falls victim to glare easily.

The stock Nissan software is a massive upgrade on the brand’s previous-generation products, but while it’s functional it’s far from the prettiest or the fastest on the market.

The back seat offers more space than you might assume, but it’s not as well thought-out as the front of the cabin. At 182cm tall I fit behind my own driving position with just enough space for my knees and just enough headroom.

There are decent bottle holders in the doors, and a further two small ones in the drop-down armrest. The backs of the front seats are clad in that synthetic leather material, which is nice, and have soft pockets, too.

The back of the front centre console offers just a single USB-A outlet and a small cubby. There are no adjustable air vents for rear passengers. It also feels a little claustrophobic back there thanks to the black trim on everything and smaller windows.

Boot capacity for the Juke is impressive for an SUV in this class, with 422 litres on offer, which is close to the volume we’d expect from something a size-bracket up, and 1305L with the second row folded down. There is a space-saver spare under the boot floor.

Three things struck me the moment I stepped inside the C5.

Firstly, though the silhouette suggests a low-slung car, the tall stance means getting in and out isn’t a drama at all, with the seats being up high enough for this to deserve its SUV/crossover status.

Secondly, the Chery emits a somewhat repellent plastic off-gas odour, a bit like a cheap toy. The smell never goes away. Perhaps it was just our test car? Unlikely though, as it reminds me of pre-2000s Kias and Hyundais.

And in stark contrast, thirdly, there’s an arresting elegance to the dashboard’s minimalist layout and presentation. Nothing’s changed visually and nothing needed to.

Let’s concentrate on the many positive points first.

There’s plenty of space around you for a comparatively small and narrow SUV, including ample legroom and head room for your 178cm tester front and back. It doesn't feel cramped at all.

Finding the ideal driving position is easy, with most of the (available) switches and controls where you’d need them to be without having to stretch to reach. Helping things out here is an adjustable steering wheel for rake as well as reach. Unlike in an MG ZS.

The dash layout looks great, given that this car is of a 2022 vintage, with the large, twin 10.25-inch integrated displays for both the electronic instrumentation and the multimedia system seamlessly presented. Both are fairly clear and easy to work out and operate. And, despite being an older-generation vehicle (it’s now well into year four of production), the instruments still look fresh.

And though the C5 runs a software-based operating system for vehicle functions, climate, audio, multimedia and other settings, the few buttons provided are well integrated and mostly work logically.

Below the touchscreen is a row of haptic switches for the main heating and cooling elements, meaning just one touch is necessary and with no complicated and time-consuming sub-menus to navigate. That's good.

You do need to dive into sub-menus for some drive settings and modes, though, and that's disappointing, but at least the C5’s is not as complicated as some others we’ve experienced of late.

Other plus points include excellent ventilation and loads of storage, including a big old glovebox, a cavernous centre console bin, a vast lower area to hide things on, deep cupholders and a ‘wall’ to lean two phones or a tablet while still being visible for the driver to glance at, with one side providing wireless charging on the Ultimate grade.

Along with pleasant cloth seats that are surprisingly comfortable, all show a reassuring degree of thoughtfulness.

Additionally, the poor side and rear vision is at least aided by large side mirrors and a crisp reverse-camera views.

However, there are some serious downsides too, starting with the C5’s aforementioned phone/tablet wall. The rubber backing in our test car was misshapen and dog-eared, undermining the otherwise exemplary build quality.

Until you learn its weird ways, the gear shifter can be unfathomable. It looks like it would operate as per a regular T-bar, but pressing the side button to engage Drive or Reverse instead locks them out, meaning the uninitiated will inevitably find themselves panicking manoeuvring in traffic with impatient drivers wondering why a Chery is blocking the road during a cheeky three-point turn. Embarrassing and, yes, super frustrating.

In the Ultra at least, the lofty front passenger seat has no height adjustment. The digital radio did not work for the entire week we had the C5. Maybe it was just our car, but even in inner Melbourne, reception proved elusive.

And the touchscreen-based secondary climate settings that aren’t supported by physical buttons are a stretch away, including temperature adjustment, meaning these and other items are arranged for left-hand-drive access.

This means it is fiddly to operate, as concentration is not on the road ahead, resulting in the driver monitor sounding off, leading to more frustration. An unvirtuous circle of distraction ensues, highlighting the folly of software-based vehicle systems that have not been tailored to Australian road conditions. Fail.

But nothing is as aggravating as the Chery’s voice control system. Like we said earlier, when turned on, it mishears or misunderstands words to almost a comical degree… if it wasn’t so constantly intrusive. As with paranoid and/or trigger-happy ADAS warnings, you end up switching off such irritating tech. Which beggars the question: what is their point?

Moving to the back seat, things look up again, with sufficient space for most smaller families to settle into.

The bench is fine, offering adequate comfort for shorter journeys. Legroom is generous, helped out by room for boots to tuck underneath the front cushion. And most amenities are present for a base model car, including a folding armrest with two cupholders (again, unlike in an MG ZS), as well as one-touch electric windows, overhead grab handles, coat hooks, decent size door bins, a USB port and face level ventilation.

All those go towards making the C5 well-packaged, small family transport.

Further back, Chery has managed to liberate an extra 10 litres of cargo capacity compared to the old Omoda 5, so 360 litres is available – which is not bad for a small SUV. That rises to 1075L in two-seater mode.

It’s also a practical and easy boot to use, with a space saver spare wheel.

In its latest guise, Chery’s small SUV coupe range has been reduced to just two grades, Urban and Ultimate.

This one’s the Urban. At $29,990 drive-away at the time of publishing, it undercuts the Ultimate by $5000, but does cost $2000 more than the old base Omoda 5 FX. And the competition is becoming fiercer by the month.

Consider, for example, the redesigned and vastly-improved MG ZS, facelifted Jolion and all-new Suzuki Fronx, as well the less expensive if smaller rivals such as the Mahindra 3XO, Kia Stonic, Hyundai Venue, Mazda CX-3, Nissan Juke and Chery’s own Tiggo 4.

Frankly, the Omoda 5 needed to improve.

To that end, the C5 ditches the old torsion beam rear suspension for a multi-link independent set-up that promises better comfort and control. That’s a big step in the right direction.

And while long-term durability and reliability remain unknowns with such gearboxes, a switch from a continuously variable transmission (CVT) to a six-speed dual-clutch transmission (DCT) may be a nod to driving enthusiasts. Let’s see about that.

The entry-level Ultra includes a nicely integrated electronic display and central touchscreen at 10.25 inches apiece, wireless Apple CarPlay/Android Auto, DAB+ digital radio, rear air vents, powered folding mirrors, noise-cutting acoustic front door glass and 17-inch alloys.

There’s also “Hello, Chery” voice control, that can thankfully be silenced as our example’s inability to differentiate 'Chery' from 'Cher', 'chair' and 'care' fast became a pain in you-know-where, since it insisted on constantly butting in.

Seven airbags and a decent level of advanced driver assistance systems (ADAS) are also standard – more on those in the safety section below.

For the record, the $35K-drive-away Ultimate adds better audio, a powered tailgate, heated front seats, dual-zone climate control, a 360-degree monitor, sunroof with sunshade, wireless charger, imitation leather, bigger wheels and more.

However, they are also necessary sweeteners against sophisticated rivals like the Toyota Yaris Cross Hybrid, Mazda CX-30, Subaru Crosstrek, Hyundai Kona, Nissan Qashqai and Renault Duster.

More importantly for some, the closely related and virtually identically sized Chery Tiggo 4 costs several thousand dollars less, and mostly matches the C5’s spec at each corresponding grade, undermining the newcomer's value. A strange own-goal, Chery.

Oh well. For some buyers, this swoopy crossover is all about image. At least the facelift addresses the old Omoda 5’s odd appearance from some angles.

In the Juke’s messy engine bay lies a 1.0-litre, three-cylinder, turbo-petrol engine which sends 84kW/180Nm to the front wheels.

Nissan has its own 'HR10DET' engine code for this unit but it’s actually a Renault 'H5Dt' engine as evidenced by Renault logos all over the place.

Power is communicated by a seven-speed dual-clutch automatic which has been a source of strife for this car since it arrived. This very European engine and transmission combination is one which the Juke shares with its Renault Captur cousin.

I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but I would prefer a continuously variable transmission (CVT) which Nissan uses elsewhere in its range. It would solve maybe the main issue with this car, which we’ll explore up next in the driving section of this review

The C5 is powered by a 1.5-litre four-cylinder turbo petrol engine, delivering 108kW of power at 5500rpm and 210Nm of torque from 1750-4000rpm.

As part of the MY25 facelift, the Chery swaps out the old Omoda 5’s CVT for a six-speed dual-clutch transmission, complete with a handy manual mode. It drives the front wheels only.

Tipping the scales at 1462kg (kerb), the C5 Ultra offers a power-to-weight ratio of 73.9kW/tonne – which is slightly less than, say, a Haval Jolion, but quite a bit behind a Mazda CX-3.

With a slight helping hand from a strong northerly wind, we managed to record a 0-100km/h sprint time of 9.9 seconds. This figure suggests the Chery feels faster than it is.

One of the reasons this car comes equipped with a dual-clutch automatic is to chase fuel efficiency as well as emissions output. On paper DCT autos don’t suffer the inherent losses of a traditional torque converter transmission.

The official combined cycle fuel consumption figure is 5.8L/100km. My week of driving, weighted slightly more towards freeway conditions, produced a marginally higher average of 6.8L/100km. It’s not the claim, but it’s pretty good.

This little engine requires mid-shelf 95RON unleaded fuel, and the Juke has a 46-litre fuel tank, suggesting a driving range of 793km using the official fuel consumption number.

The C5’s combined average fuel consumption figure is 6.9L/100km, for a carbon dioxide emissions rating of 160 grams/km. And that’s on regular 91 RON standard unleaded. Topping the 51-litre petrol tank should result in nearly 740km of range between refills.

During our week with the Chery, we managed 9.0L/100km, which is very disappointing, though that did include highway and performance driving.

The Juke can be fun to drive, and I wanted to like it more, but the transmission its peppy little engine is paired with is frustrating.

Outputs of 84kW/180Nm doesn’t sound like a lot, but power isn’t the problem. The little engine has a fun turbo-surge which pairs with the Juke's light frame to make for a car which is quite athletic when you push it.

The issue is a mountain of turbo-lag conspires with the clunky dual-clutch automatic to make it far too sluggish off the line.

There’s a full second (or two, at times) to wait for any power to arrive, which simply isn’t good enough at T-junctions and roundabouts, the kind of situations a little urban SUV like this will constantly be encountering.

Nissan says the transmission software was even updated after the Juke’s launch, but it’s still not where it should be.

It has good traits, too. When you’re out on the open road, it has quick, snappy and well-defined shifts, and the engine is much better when it’s being properly pushed, too.

It has a gruff, entertaining tone, and the Juke’s light frame, firm ride, and comparatively heavy steering make it a joy to throw into some corners.

The long wheelbase for such a small SUV, paired with a decent set of tyres, also keeps it confident when its predecessor was a little clumsy.

Again, though, the reasonably hard ride, not helped by the very large wheels, isn't its best trait in an urban environment. The Juke is by no means uncomfortable, it just seems like the priorities for this little SUV aren’t in the right place.

I’ve said this before but there’s a great car in here somewhere. The Juke is fun to drive in the right environment, it’s just this environment is not where most prospective buyers will primarily be looking to use it.

What could fix this issue? A different transmission perhaps. Better yet, an e-Power hybrid powertrain.

Chery has made some pretty fundamental changes underneath, so we had higher hopes of the C5 compared to the preceding Omoda 5. However, expectations ought to be tempered here.

Let’s begin with the Chinese SUV’s performance.

After a moment’s hesitation, the C5 feels punchy from the get-go, with a decent amount of muscle as the revs rise. Throttle response is brisk, even at higher speeds. And the brakes do a great job. This is quite the rapid little runabout.

Some of that initial lag is down to the dual-clutch transmission, since it needs time for the turbo to spool up. Once sorted, it shifts swiftly and smoothly, and without delay. Only the aforementioned gear selector complication will catch out new drivers, as the operation is needlessly complicated.

But the engine is never really quiet, and can even feel coarse when extended under hard acceleration, betraying this Chery’s station as a cheap SUV. And the stop/start tech is especially jerky.

The steering, meanwhile, is a mix of disgruntle and delight.

When driving on the motorway, it can feel lumpy, with the driver-assist system tugging away endlessly at the wheel. The sudden jolts make it feel like a pinball as the vehicle feels like it is ricocheting off the white lines. Such constant correction is both tiring and irritating, leading to fatigue and, if your fuse is really short, aggravation.

For steering smoothness or linearity, you need to dive into a sub menu and opt out of several ADAS modes. Or otherwise pull over and wonder why Chinese car companies especially seem to have such disdain for Australian drivers. If this sounds like a nightmare, the C5 is not for you.

Furthermore, there’s no point choosing a steering setting. Comfort is light enough for easy driving and weighty enough for the driver to feel in control, but feedback and feel are absent. And selecting Sport just adds needless heft and makes it all feel way too heavy.

Now, that said, the C5 offers some dynamic compensation, and likely courtesy of its multi-link suspension upgrade.

At higher speeds, the steering, for instance, is pleasingly direct and precise, meaning it turns exactly where you choose it to. The handling feels controlled and the tyres grip well, for some unintentional scrappy fun through really tight corners, to a certain extent anyway. It’s a side to the Chery the Omoda 5 never seemed capable of delivering.

But, inevitably, this comes at a price, and that is a busy and at times agitated ride, with the suspension failing to soak up bumps and irregularities on anything other than smooth roads, despite its new-found independence, adding to further fatigue. For the record, our test car rode on 215/60R17 Giti tyres.

Would higher-quality rubber help fix this? If you’re buying a sub-$30K Chery SUV, would you even care? Basically, unless you enjoy the occasional hoon, the C5 lacks dynamic sophistication as well as sufficient Australian road tuning. Much like its predecessor. Such a letdown.

Considering that it is merely a facelift with a new badge, the Chery C5 conveniently adopts the preceding Omoda 5’s five-star ANCAP crash-test rating.

Note that was conducted in 2022 using earlier performance parameters compared to today.

Anyway, there is little doubt that Chery has done its homework here, with a host of advanced driver-assist systems (ADAS) being fitted.

These include autonomous emergency braking (AEB), forward collision warning, emergency lane keeping, lane departure warning and prevention, blind spot detection, lane change assist, rear cross-traffic alert and braking, adaptive cruise control with traffic jam assist, traffic sign recognition, speed control assist, a driver monitor and auto high beams.

This cannot be understated: most of this ADAS tech requires Australian road tuning, because they interfere and distract to the point of being a nuisance.

Note that the AEB (encompassing pedestrian, cyclist and back-over braking) operates from 4km/h to 65km/h, whilst the car-to-car braking is between 4km/h and 150km/h. The lane-support systems work between 60km/h and 150km/h.

Seven airbags are present (including a front-centre and full head/curtain coverage but no rear side airbags), as are anti-lock brakes, stability control and traction control systems.

Finally, a pair of ISOFIX child-seat latch points and a trio of hooks for tether straps across the rear seat are also part of the C5 package.

Nissan offers the Juke with a five-year, unlimited km warranty, with five-years of roadside assist included.

It requires servicing every 12 months or 20,000km and the cost is subject to a capped price servicing program for the first six years.

This averages $651.33 annually, which is not cheap for a small SUV in this class.

However, there is also the option of a pre-paid five-year service plan which brings the annual cost over five years down to a more reasonable $429.60.

But, notably, it does not include the pricy $1521 sixth-year interval. It’s worth asking yourself how long you’ll own the car for before splurging on it.

Very competitive if not quite as class leading as the conditional Nissan, Mitsubishi and MG 10-year warranty, the C5 comes with a seven-year/unlimited kilometre warranty.

Chery also offers seven years/105,000km of capped-price servicing and a year’s free roadside assistance, though up to seven years is available should owners choose to have their vehicle maintained at an authorised dealer during that period.

Service intervals are at every 12 months or 10,000km, and cost $280 per visit for the first five, extending to nearly $370 and $290 for the final two.