Renault Captur vs Citroen C3 Aircross

What's the difference?

There’s no denying the Captur RS Line is expensive.

But it’s also sophisticated, cultured, comfy, friendly and fun, possessing a quality and capability normally expected – but rarely delivered as roundly – in more premium-branded small SUVs. Seen in this light, the Renault’s value is relative.

Better still, if the price is just too rich for you, there are three cheaper grades offering equal promise. Which is why the charming Captur deserves to succeed in Australia.

$40,800 before on-road costs

Based on new car retail price

It's a good car, no question. Individuality is key to Citroen's brand appeal and you get that, too. A comfortable cabin, plush ride and hot damn, it's way too expensive, which is a crying shame. You could argue - as Citroen's product planners probably have - that it doesn't help to offer one in the mid-$20K mark because it won't make much money because so few people will buy it. Drop it at a premium, only lose a few opportunistic buyers but make more money per unit with committed fans? Why not, I guess?

Like most French cars, I'm glad it exists for weird French car fans like me to consider.

The original Captur was huge in Europe because it was keenly priced, looked good, drove well (being based on the agile Clio IV supermini sure helped) and was intelligently packaged (offering a sliding rear seat).

It’s no shock, then, that the second-gen version revealed in France during 2019 gently evolved the concept with a broader stance, sharper edges and expanded cabin space as a result of a 20mm longer wheelbase and 110mm of increased body length, improving rear legroom and cargo capacity in the process.

Built on the Renault-Nissan-Mitsubishi Alliance’s CMF-B (Common Module Family, B-segment) platform in Spain and shared with the latest Clio (5) sadly not sold in Australia, it benefits from being stronger and sturdier than before, cutting noise levels inside.

Nearly three years on, Captur II remains a handsome and pleasingly proportioned machine, looking somewhat larger than the CX-3 and Puma, yet still trim and taut enough to avoid seeming too big for urban buyers seeking a compact crossover. Its size fits.

Kudos to Renault Australia importers Ateco Automotive for offering interesting, vibrant colour options.

As you might imagine, it's an individual design. Lots of Cactus cues, like the roof rails, bluff front end and stacked headlights Hyundai, uh, appropriated for the Kona. Curiously, no 'airbumps' along the side despite the C3 hatch having them...

The 17-inch wheels somehow look tiddly given the airspace over the wheels and I can report that black is not really this car's colour, even with the contrasting white roof and weird Mazda 121 Shades special edition venetian blind treatment on the quarter window. Bit of an '80s throwback there for you.

Lots more Cactus inside though, starting with the brilliant front seats, squared-off steering wheel and funky air vents. The little tray on top of the glove box is good, but it isn't rubber-lined, so that's annoying.

The Top Gun handbrake is hilarious but apart from the texturing of the fabric on the seats, it's a tad dark below the windowline. 

There’s no denying how compact the Captur is inside as well. Again, that French city-car DNA shines through clearly.

Yet that doesn’t mean the cabin is cramped or tight, thanks to packaging that’s very intelligently executed, to the point where it will have you thinking twice about needing a larger SUV.

Additionally, the dashboard's layout and ambience possess a Euro chic that is also reflected in the quality feel of most of the switchgear and controls. Even the hard plasticky bits hidden in the lower regions of the console and doors avoid seeming cheap.

The RS Line’s cloth/artificial leather combo with its red striping and contrasting stitching plays up to the SUV’s athletic ambitions; ambient lighting choices are plentiful; the steering wheel is a chunky three-spoke affair that’s lovely to hold and behold; the paddle shifters are astutely sited; and the overall finish corresponds with the Captur’s lofty positioning.

That said, the dash’s design looks a little mid-to-late-last decade, with the 9.3-inch portrait touchscreen already dated after the Cinemascopic hyperscreens dominating the cabins of the latest Mercedes-Benzes, Havals, electrified Hyundais/Kias and others. Remember, the Renault's already celebrated its third birthday in France.

Yet the colourful multimedia system itself is thankfully fast and glitch-free, with clear and easy to understand functionality. The same applies to the RS Line’s digital instrumentation, which are configurable according to which of the drive settings (default/normal ‘My Sense’, Sport or Eco) are chosen. In this regard, the Captur's dash looks bang up-to-date.

In the RS Line, you sit on cosseting sports seats with just the right amount of bolstering. And while the driver’s side lacks lumbar support (you'll need the cheaper Intens for that), we found no fault after hours sat behind the wheel. Note, however, that the front passenger cushion is fixed up high – perhaps too much so for bouffant hairdos.

Points are regained for the simple and effective ventilation system, heaps of storage alternatives including door pockets that will easily swallow a bottle; the hidden phone charger deftly hidden under the gear selector; multitude of USB ports and ample all-round vision, aided by this grade’s excellent 360-degree camera views.

On the other hand, the multimedia system needs a good old-fashioned volume knob, as relying on tapping a screen is annoying and distracting. What is this? 2013? The gear selector might look flash, but it is infuriatingly fiddly. More on that later in the Drive section.

Furthermore, the chrome-like brightwork on the steering wheel spokes reflect sunlight badly during certain points of the day. The instrumentation’s indicator for which gear ratio is selected in manual mode is way too small and carelessly positioned in the bottom right-hand corner, making it difficult and distracting to read at speed. And two rattles reared their ugly heads: from the driver’s door and hatch.

Access to the rear is tight for longer-legged passengers, but once sat, there is more than sufficient head, knee and leg room sat behind front seats set for 178cm tall occupants. The outboard cushion is shaped for comfort, the (fixed) backrest angle is fine for most riders, and a third person can squeeze in the middle as required. There’s decent vision out and the ambience mirrors the front’s quality. Gloomy the Captur is not.

Absent rear-seat centre armrest, cupholders and overhead grab handles is disappointing, but there are rear vent outlets, access to two USB ports and a 12V outlet, sizeable door storage and map pockets behind both front seats.

Further back, the boot benefits from a low loading lip and wide aperture, revealing a seemingly shallow floor, but it's a fake; the sturdy base can easily be removed or lowered to open up a much deeper load area. Ideal for providing hidden storage.

Compared to the previous Captur, luggage volume grows 81 litres. Boot capacity varies from 422L to 536L taking advantage of the unique sliding back seat, moving forward some 160mm. That's especially handy if your rear occupants are children in capsules or booster seats.

Finally, with the 60/40 rear backrests dropped, that extends to 1275L, bringing some 1.57 metres of flat floor space with it.

In summary, then, the Renault’s interior is a clever class act, and in keeping with the RS Line’s premium aspirations.

Even for a little car, the Aircross could do better. The lack of a proper cupholder provision for the car - a solitary spot at the rear of the centre console - is mildly baffling until you remember that this car is from France. The French hate a cupholder but, obviously, you can fit wine bottles in the doors.

It's worth repeating just how comfortable and supportive the front seats are on any given journey. Broad but supportive and somehow perfectly sprung, I would cheerfully rip out most other front seats and replace them with these.

The rear seats are less of these things and anyone who forces anyone to use the middle seat should be ashamed of themselves. The headroom is good back there, though.

The boot is a big one for the size of the car, swallowing 410 litres and expanding to 1289 litres with both rear seat sections folded.

A perennial Citroen problem is the price - at $32,990, the tiny SUV is doing battle with cars that are really a size up, coming in closer in size to the Venue than, say, the ASX.

That Yaris Hybrid price (we're all still reeling from that number) scores you a 17-inch alloys, a six-speaker stereo, climate control, front camera, reversing camera, keyless entry and start, front and rear parking sensors, cruise control, sat nav, halogen headlights (yep, you read that right), head-up display, leather wheel and shifter, auto parking, auto wipers and headlights, wireless charging pad and a space-saver spare.

The central touchscreen is annoying in that there are almost no hardware switches for functions like climate control. The software is a bit on the slow side, too, but you do get Android Auto and Apple CarPlay. The stereo is fine.

Here’s a fun fact.

Below the Captur’s stylish bonnet is a powertrain you’ll find in the least-expensive Mercedes-Benz A-Class, B-Class, CLA, GLA and GLB, as well as the related Nissan Juke and all-new Nissan Qashqai.

Developed as part of an expanded engine family by Nissan nearly 20 years ago now, Renault’s version is dubbed the TCe 155, a Euro 6-rated, 1332cc 1.3-litre direct-injection four-cylinder turbo petrol unit, pumping out 113kW of power at 5500rpm and 270Nm of torque at a low 1800rpm.

Drive is sent to the front wheels via a seven-speed dual-clutch transmission (also found in the other vehicles mentioned above). In the Captur, it features three specific modes – Eco, Normal (called My Sense) and Sport – that change steering, transmission and throttle responses, as well as a set of the aforementioned paddle shifters.

As with all the grades, the RS Line manages the 0-100km/h acceleration time in 8.6 seconds, on the way to a top speed of 202km/h.

Weighing in at a lithe 1267kg, this Captur boasts a power-to-weight ratio of a healthy 89.1kW/tonne.

Now, if you've been underwhelmed by or read negative reviews about this powertrain's refinement and/or performance in the various Mercedes models, Juke or even Renault's own Arkana, then brace yourself. 

All is revealed in the Drive section below.

One of the great engines in mass-produced road cars today has found its way under the bonnet of the Aircross. Peugeot-Citroen's 1.2-litre three-cylinder turbo is a cracking engine, serving up 81kW/205Nm through a six-speed Aisin-sourced auto to the front wheels.

While the 11.8-second dash to 100km/h is, uh, leisurely, the torque figure means that on the move it's not as sluggish as that number or its 1200kg kerb weight would suggest.

For reasons outlined in the Driving section, the Captur’s natural verve and spirit is contagious, especially if you’re up for a bit of fun, and we ended up extending this car’s legs well beyond what most regular small SUVs experience. In other words, we enjoyed caning it.

As a result of this foolhardiness, fuel consumption probably suffered in our enthusiastic hands, yet we still managed a credible 7.5 litres per 100km gleaned at the pump, against the trip computer’s 7.2L/100km readout.

That’s not too far off the official combined average of 6.6L/100km. Urban/Extra Urban numbers are 5.4 and 8.8L/100km respectively, while the carbon dioxide emissions average is 149 grams/kilometre.

However, note that the 48-litre fuel tank needs 95 RON premium unleaded petrol minimum. Expect over 700km between refills based on the official combined average consumption figure.

Citroen claims a handy 6.6L/100km on the combined cycle and my week with the fizzy Frenchie included a trip over the hills and far away as well as a lot of suburban running. 

The digital display on the dashboard read 7.3L/100km, which isn't bad going without stop-start. It does require 95 RON premium fuel, though.

Has Renault finally broken its dreary automatic transmission curse?

The original Captur (and previous Clio) was fun to drive and comfortable to travel in with the old TCe 90 (0.9L three-cylinder turbo) engine/five-speed manual gearbox combo.

But the old 1.2L four-cylinder auto version with the previous six-speed DCT (dual-clutch transmission, also marketed as EDC for Efficient Dual Clutch) suffered from being slow and laggy selecting gears, when all you wanted was an instant shove forward.

No such ailments afflict the Captur II.

Regardless of the DCT, the 1.3L four-pot turbo is a terrifically muscular performer, stepping off the line quickly and smartly, with barely any hesitation or delay. Perhaps the best we've encountered this side of Porsche's PDK transmission.

Even on hills, it is tuned for linear, jerk-free response, aided by a hill-hold function that eliminates the frustration of rolling backwards on inclines. Crawling in heavy traffic, there is none of the flaring or driveline snatch that the old EDC inflicted. Smooth, swift and sweet acceleration is at last available in a modern auto Renault.

And the news gets better as the roads empty out and open up. Throttle response on the move is strong, with speed building up quickly and smoothly. There’s a deep well of torque to draw upon, helped out by the fast-shifting DCT and good spread of ratios, that keep the engine spinning in the sweet spot. It sounds and feels sporty and alive.

Consequently, we reckon the Captur boasts the best application of this powertrain we’ve yet experienced – even amongst the Mercedes models using a variation of it. If only the otherwise-well-rounded Nissan Juke felt as polished as its Renault cousin.

One gripe, though, is the RS Line's gear fly-by-wire gear shifter, which too often fails to engage when you're in a hurry. You need to be slow and measured when selecting Drive or Reverse. Otherwise you may be left panicking mid U-turn. This is our biggest issue with the Captur.

Otherwise, it's plain sailing for France's diminutive SUV.

The Captur’s punchy performance helps it zip into tight spots effortlessly, assisted by direct yet easy steering that weighs up according to whether you’re in relaxed Eco or Sport mode.

Whichever is chosen, the RS Line’s handling is defined by high levels of confidence and composure that only comes with cars that provide feel and feedback.

This, along with linear steering that’s never nervous at speed, means driving the Captur quickly is a blast. Cornering is clean and precise, with the car naturally getting into an easy, gentle flow that makes driver feel part of the car.

This Renault feels connected to the road in more ways than one – and that’s a real rarity in this type of vehicle. Right up there with the animated Ford Puma, this truly is the Clio of smaller SUVs.

The Captur continues to impress when pushed really hard. Driven along a mountain road, there is some body lean through really fast and tight corners, yet is shines with its excellent roadholding abilities. Likewise, this is one small SUV that seems to relish long highway touring. 

Plus, and despite riding on 18-inch wheels, the Captur’s suspension (struts up front and a torsion beam out back, so nothing special or unusual here) is soft enough to soak up most bumps, especially larger speed humps, yet set up to deliver dynamically. It’s way suppler than you might think looking at the twin yellow Renault Sport diamonds on the steering wheel. We suspect the quality Continental PremiumContact 6 215/55R18 H tyres play a big role in this.

Our only concern is the Captur may be a bit too playful in the dirt. Over gravel at speed, the stability and traction control systems take their time to intervene, though they do eventually take over to gently yet emphatically reel in a wiggly rear end before it begins to slide out of control.

Renault has obviously tuned it this way, and it's frankly heaps better than the abrupt or ill-judged set-ups found in other SUVs (hello, Haval), but a mild adrenalin rush will follow if you're not expecting such... initial looseness.

If you love driving and hate the thought of dull SUVs, the Captur is the one for you.

French cars have a very specific audience in this country, which includes weirdos like me. I've owned Peugeots and Renaults and loved every second of it.

Top of my list after my darling baby boy wrote off our family car (which was bought for him to drive), the Cactus was close to the top of the list. This fandom isn't blind, though - I know what I'm getting myself into having to dispassionately assess their faults and foibles as well as their triumphs and tangible benefits.

If I'm being honest - and it's just you and I here - I didn't think I'd like the C3 Aircross, there was just something about its SUV pretensions. I can't say the looks grabbed me and the inexplicable exclusion of the airbumps made me irrationally cross.

But once you slip behind that square-ish wheel into the comfortable embrace of those excellent seats, you forget the aesthetics (which did grow on me, even in black). 

The 1.2 turbo is, as ever, eager to please and well-matched to the six-speed auto. The two work well together to get you moving, although the engine is the noisiest installation I can remember. In the Peugeot 308, it's virtually silent.

On the move, the lovely ride also impresses, soaking up the bumps (except those aggressive rubber speed humps in shopping centre car parks) while keeping body roll to an acceptable minimum.

It's perfectly fine in the suburbs, even with its limited power. Breaking into traffic can be a bit of a moment, but there are slower cars about.

Where the Aircross is really good is out on the freeway. It's quiet for such a small car and that torque figure makes joining the M4 freeway (west out of Sydney) fine, and it cheerfully kept up on the climb up the Blue Mountains and the brakes and transmission were great down the other side.

Citroen is unashamedly about comfort over handling, but the trade-off for the comfort is pretty good in that it still handles despite a plush ride and being up on stilts.

Along with six airbags, ABS, stability and traction controls, the Aircross has low-speed AEB (up to 30km/h), blind-spot monitoring, lane departure warning, driver attention monitoring and speed sign recognition.

Three top tether anchors and two ISOFIX points complete the picture with a five-star Euro NCAP rating dating back to 2017. There is no corresponding ANCAP score, despite the agreement between the two agencies.

Renault offers an industry-standard five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty under its ‘Easy Life Ownership’ program, which also includes five years of capped-price servicing and “service-activated” roadside assistance – as long as you have the work done at a Renault-sanctioned dealership. That's when it is renewed annually.

Service intervals are every 12 months or 30,000km (regardless of make/model, we'd recommend a visit to the garage at half that mileage at the very least, though), and are listed at the time of publishing on the Renault website as costing $399 for the first three and fifth services, and $789 for the fourth (48 months/120,000km).

Citroen offers a class-competitive five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty with a five year service plan if you want to pre-pay.

That plan costs a stiff $2727 for your five visits (or every 12 months/15,000km). That's nearly three times what you'll pay for a C-HR or about $400 more than a Mazda CX-3.