Renault Arkana vs LDV D90

What's the difference?

The Arkana is a stylish alternative in a sea of same-same compact SUVs. It's relatively well equipped and has some hidden gems in its ownership and running costs that elevate it above some of the competition.

It’s not a bad thing to steer, either, but the lurchy dual-clutch could be a deal breaker for some.

The sweet spot is the Techno, which misses out on the Esprit Alpine’s special touches but represents the most bang for your buck.

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

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.

This update isn’t a massive overhaul of the Arkana, rather its “refreshing and enhancing” what was already there according to Renault Australia.

And this remains true with the car’s styling. Not much has changed on the outside except for a few minor garnishes and flourishes, especially on the Esprit Alpine variant.

The coupe styling isn’t for everyone. It’s more popular in Europe than Australia but if you want to stand out from the crowd it’s a good place to start.

The Arkana has curves in all the right places and its little grille made up of little Renault badge diamonds is a welcome addition in a world of wide mouth front ends. The C-shaped LED headlights and a large Renault badge add a bit of pop to its look.

The pinched rear end has LED lighting that runs from the tail-lights to the centre badge and Arkana is spelled out in big, bold letters.

The Esprit Alpine stands out with gunmetal highlights on the front bumper and the front and rear skid plates in the same colour. It also adds a Esprit Alpine badge below the side mirror and front door sill plates.

The Esprit Alpine has 'Tricolour' stitching in red, white and blue on the door trim and steering wheel, which is complemented by blue contrast stitching on the gear shifter, seats and centre console.

Cabin quality is variable. There are some nice feeling materials used on the dash and on the door trims but below eye level there are lots of hard wearing plastics. A big slab of faux wood running along the dashboard doesn’t feel as high-quality as you would like. The quality drops a bit in the back row, which is where carmakers often try to cut costs.

Solid white is the only no cost paint colour, but it is not available on the Esprit Alpine. Metallic white, blue, black, grey and red cost $750.

Buyers can also option a black roof for a two-tone look for $600.

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.

The Arkana isn’t a family SUV, but rather is pitched at younger couples and empty nesters. 

Up front there is great forward vision with a higher seating position than hatchbacks and sedans. Electronically adjustable seats and a manually moveable steering wheel means there’s a good seating position for pretty much everyone.

The seats are comfy and the multimedia screen and climate controls are easy to reach. The centre console has a wireless device charger, two USB-A charging ports and a 12-volt socket to keep various devices juiced up. 

Two cupholders take up most of the space with minimal storage space leftover. There are decent sized storage bins in the doors and a little net in the passenger seats footwell to stop small items rolling around. 

Back seat passengers have their own air con vents and USB charging ports, which is a welcome addition.

In the rear pew is where the Arkana’s stylish coupe-like design dents its practicality. The sloping roof shrinks the windows and reduces headroom, which makes it feel a bit gloomy compared to more boxy-shaped SUVs that makes it no-no for smaller kids.

The boot is a decent size, but it’s longer and lower than other SUVs, which is the price you pay for looking good. 

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.

The Arkana keeps the 1.3-litre four-cylinder turbocharged petrol engine from before. It makes 115kW and 262Nm and is paired with a seven-speed dual-clutch auto that drives the front wheels. 

That’s plenty of grunt for a car this size, but it’s let down by a glitchy transmission that hesitates a lot at lower speeds and doesn’t do its best work when asked to hustle, either.

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.

Efficiency is the name of the game with the Arkana’s little turbo engine. The French brand claims it drinks 5.9L/100km on the combined (urban/extra-urban) cycle but we averaged 7.5L/100km on our circa two-hour country road drive according to the trip computer.

The higher speed twisting and turning country roads we drove on aren’t conducive to low fuel use, though.

It has a 50-litre fuel tank and only requires cheaper 91 RON petrol, which is rare for little turbo engines that usually have premium tastes.

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.

The Arkana is a bit of a mixed bag on the road. Its engine is a nice little unit but the dual-clutch auto deflates the drive experience.

At lower speeds it hesitates and then gives too much oomph all at once, which can result in some wheel spin. It means you need to be mindful at T-intersections and when turning across traffic and feather the pedals. 

This is a symptom of most dual-clutch autos but the Arkana’s is less sophisticated than say ones fitted to Volkswagens, and the Arkana doesn’t have the meaty power and torque bands of performance cars. A conventional torque converter auto would suit it better.

The Arkana does some of its best work at higher speeds, where the dual-clutch is more decisive and it's an admirable highway cruiser. 

It isn’t a bad operator through the bends where it exerts excellent body control to minimise rolling. This is complemented by nice steering that is well weighted and accurate. Pedal feel is excellent with no woody or doughy feel to them.

The suspension is on the firmer side and you’ll feel some harsh bumps, especially over consistent smaller ones that it will crash over.

Its rear torsion beam suspension set-up is less sophisticated than the multilink arrangements found in an increasing number of competitors in the segment.

Road noise is noticeable at higher speeds. There's a fair bit of wind noise, too, but it was an especially windy day on our test drive.

The Arkana isn’t a sports car but is a stylish SUV for punting around town and facilitating weekend getaways, but there are other compact players that answer this brief better.

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.

There is one part of Renault’s ownership credentials that others can’t match.

Its service intervals are every 12 months and a whopping 30,000km, which is double the industry norm of 15,000km. 

If you need to do big kays such as a sales rep or rideshare driver might this will be extremely important.

Five years or 150,000km of capped price servicing visits costs $2385, which is one the expensive side compared to Honda, Hyundai and Toyota but is in the ballpark of similar-sized Kias and Volkswagens.

Renault covers the Arkana with a five year/unlimited km warranty - par for the course in the mainstream market - and five years of roadside assistance.

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.