Renault Captur vs Mazda CX-30

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

I’m glad we checked in on our old friend, the Mazda CX-30. Despite being a car with two wheels planted in the future, and two firmly planted in the past, it manages to hold the line against many of its newer rivals, both on the cheaper and higher-tech end of the spectrum.

What you see really is what you get with this Mazda; it’s lovely to drive, looks fantastic, and punches above its weight when it comes to cabin ambiance. While what’s under the bonnet might no longer be in vogue, driving this car again has only reinforced its standing as small SUV royalty.

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.

While the Haval Jolions of the world look ready to hit up the McDonald’s drive thru with their youthful flair, and cars like the Toyota Corolla Cross want to save money and dine at home with their conservative appearance, the Mazda CX-30 looks dressed to impress, as though it should be seen at the valet stand of your nearest Michelin-star restaurant.

A few years of age or not, the design of this car is still spectacular at this price, placing it right at the forefront of looks for the mainstream small SUV segment.

The delicate panel work, signature big grille, and large wheels at this Astina grade match nicely with the minimalist light fittings which themselves come complete with a soft-fade effect for the indicators.

It’s attention to detail like this which makes the CX-30 look like it belongs in a price-bracket above, and demands rivals pay attention.

The interior meets expectations, too, which is no small feat given some cars in this space prove it’s one thing to look great, and quite another to match it with a truly premium feel.

Mazda has done a fantastic job in the cabin which feels the part with an abundance of soft-touch materials, a dark, modern colour scheme, and an overall vibe which is ageing well even compared to more recently launched rivals.

I would go so far as to say, at the Astina grade the CX-30 feels more like it should be competing with Lexus, certainly punching above the mark, even at its mid-$40K price-point.

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.

It looks good and feels good, but is it practical? While the CX-30 is larger than its smaller CX-3 sibling, it still leaves space to be desired, especially compared to some other segment-bending small SUVs it competes with.

The front seat is not where the bad news starts though. It feels spacious enough inside for a couple, with large seats, plenty of space separating the front two occupants, and plenty of comfort on offer with padded armrests on both sides.

There are big bottle holders in the doors and in a flip-open bay in the console (wouldn’t want to interrupt this design… ), and there’s additional storage once you slide and flip open the armrest.

To keep things tidy, your USB and 12V power connections are also located in the console bay. No need for messy cables, and there’s a little divider, too.

On the downside here, there’s a chunk of dead space under the climate unit, which looks like it could be filled with a shelf or, better yet, wireless charger. As it is, it’s just a plastic panel with a small bay underneath which barely fits a phone.

Adjustability is great for the driver, with a reach- and tilt-adjustable steering wheel, and high belt-line offering a sporty hatch-like feel, which I instantly felt comfortable with.

The rear seat isn’t as impressive. While the fancy seat trim and soft-touch points mostly continue, some of the padding in the doors has been replaced with hard plastic, and there’s a raise in the floor to facilitate all-wheel drive on some variants which eats into the centre occupant’s foot space.

Behind my own seating position, my knees have a tiny amount of room, and so does my head, at 182cm tall. Technically, I fit, but it’s close, and feels it.

Rear occupants get a padded drop-down armrest with two bottle holders, an extra two surprisingly large ones in the doors, but no power outlets. There are two adjustable air vents on the back of the centre console.

The coupe-like design also has a cost when it comes to boot space. There’s 317-litres (VDA) of space available, although we could only fit the CarsGuide luggage set when the parcel shelf was removed.

The space is suitable for a couple on a weekend adventure, but a bit tight if you have more requirements, like a pram-age child, for example.

There is an under-floor space which houses a space-saver spare wheel and part of the Bose sound system.

When Mazda started what seemed like a push upmarket at the time, the CX-30 was an expensive small SUV. The intention with this car’s look and feel seemed to match the pricing, though, so we all thought Mazda was trying to establish a new semi-premium positioning.

As fate would have it, though, through a pandemic and various fluctuations when it comes to supply and raw material costs, every other manufacturer in this mainstream small SUV space has pushed up the price-scale, too, now making even the more expensive versions of the CX-30 look not so bad value after all.

The specific version we have for this test is the top-trim Astina, using the larger 2.5-litre engine in front-wheel drive form.

The CX-30 range is expansive and confusing, because you can also have an Astina with the smaller 2.0-litre engine, or in all-wheel drive, or even with Mazda’s odd new ‘X20’ engine option which is effectively a supercharged compression-ignition science experiment.

This front-drive 2.5-litre version is probably the pick of the Astina bunch, though, offering the larger engine without the weight or unnecessary cost of all-wheel drive.

Wearing a before on-roads price-tag of $43,310, it now goes into battle with the surprisingly expensive Toyota Corolla Cross (Atmos FWD - $43,550), Honda HR-V (e:HEV L - $47,000), Volkswagen T-Roc (R-Line AWD - $45,200), and the almost as expensive top-spec Kia Seltos (GT-Line FWD - $41,500).

Of course, if these prices, which will approach $50K once you factor in on-road costs, are making you wince, there’s always the more affordable Haval Jolion (from $36,990 for an equivalent high-spec S) or the MG ZST (from $34,990 for an equivalent Essence) from China.

If you’re thinking neither will hold a candle to the Mazda’s dynamics or quality, you’d be right. Read on to learn why.

Before we go on, though, at this Astina grade equipment includes 18-inch alloy wheels, an 8.8-inch multimedia panel with wired Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, LED headlights, a sunroof, heated front seats with power adjust for the driver, a 7.0-inch digital instrument element, surprisingly nice leather interior trim for the seats and wheel, dual-zone climate, a head-up display, and a 360-degree parking camera.

Interesting omissions at this price include a wireless charger, wireless phone mirroring, USB-C connectivity, and while there’s a great safety suite included, there’s also no true hybrid option in the CX-30 range.

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.

This is where the Mazda is really showing its age. G25 variants are powered by a 2.5-litre four-cylinder engine, which isn’t turbocharged, nor is it assisted at the wheels by electric motors in a hybrid arrangement.

It’s punchy enough to keep the pace with most of its turbo rivals, putting out 139kW/252Nm, and some will love the fact it’s paired with a traditional torque converter automatic instead of a rubbery continuously variable or glitchy dual-clutch set-up, but it’s certainly not for the eco-conscious.

Not only is it a relatively large displacement engine, but aside from a start-stop system there’s little to mitigate your emissions. In fact, this unit only complies with Euro 5 emissions regulations, well behind the pace today.

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.

Some bad news, of course, comes at the fuel pump. The official claim for this relatively large engine is a bit bold, at 6.8L/100km on the ADR combined cycle, but if you’re using it for mainly urban duties as we did for this review I wouldn’t be surprised to see figures more in the region between 8.0 and 9.0L/100km.

As it stands, our car produced an average of 7.8L/100km, which is better than expected, but still painful in the era of hybrids and fuel-sipping turbos, especially when fuel is close to $2.00 a litre in most capital cities.

Mercifully, the lack of complexity from this engine does mean you can put bog-standard 91 RON unleaded in the tank.

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.

The CX-30 is awesome to drive. In a sea of lacklustre small SUVs, it’s instantly easy to connect with this Mazda. Yes, the engine and transmission here aren’t the most recent additions to the landscape, but they are predictable, smooth, and easy to deal with.

In fact, one thing Mazda is particularly good at is making its entire range feel homogenous in terms of the drive experience, maintaining the great dynamics which the brand has become synonymous with.

The touchpoints continue to be fantastic on the move. The steering feels light and easy to turn at low speeds, but becomes purposeful and full of feel at higher speeds.

The direct feedback on offer from the rack and the firm springs up front give a great handle on what the front wheels are doing.

The overall feel is firm and reactive, ready for action, and while not everyone will love the hard edge to the suspension, it helps the car feel springy and agile in the corners.

You can feel the Mazda 3 DNA on full display when you’re driving this car in haste, and it’s a kind of dynamism which most rivals can’t match, even if the Mazda’s drivetrain is feeling a little low-tech.

You certainly don’t need to worry about the six-speed transmission, which is a smooth-shifting unit.

There’s no glitchy behaviour on hills or from a stop like you might get in a dual-clutch, or rubbery surging under acceleration often delivered by a CVT, just the feeling of the car riding each gear out, and shifting between clearly defined ratios.

Drivers of older vehicles especially will appreciate its instantly familiar feel.

Ergonomically, it’s pretty straightforward, with the one major downside being the dial set-up. We like physical controls rather than touch controls, but Mazda has taken this to the extreme by not making the main multimedia screen a touch unit.

Instead, you’re forced to negotiate with phone mirroring software using a rotary dial, which is at best clumsy, and at worst distracting.

It’s also a tad difficult to see over this car’s high beltline, making it hard to tell where the corners are, front and rear, and a common Mazda problem is the wing mirrors which seem to have a zoom factor on them. Why? It limits your view into the lanes next to you.

Thankfully the active safety suite spends most of its time in the background and unlike some more recent offerings in the small SUV space, not interfering with the excellent drive experience.

The lane keep software is light handed, and the driver monitoring tech is more basic, which is honestly all you should need.

Overall then, the CX-30 is predictable, familiar, and has a fantastic quality to its handling which fits the Mazda brand promise.

Aside from a few blemishes then, it’s one of the best cars to drive in the segment, just don’t expect it to feel as cutting-edge as it could.

I love the lack of invasive safety tech in the CX-30, but that’s not to say this car lacks any of the required gear.

Active equipment includes freeway-speed auto emergency braking, lane keep assist with lane departure warning, blind-spot monitoring with rear- and front-cross traffic alert, adaptive cruise control, adaptive high-beams, driver attention alert, and traffic sign recognition.

You also score a very nice 360-degree parking camera and sensors, as well as a suite of seven airbags.

The CX-30 scored particularly highly across all of ANCAP’s testing criteria, with a particularly impressive 99 per cent in adult occupant protection. It achieved this rating in 2020.

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).

As with all Mazdas, the ownership proposition is pretty straightforward. There’s five years of warranty, five years of roadside assist, and five years of capped price servicing.

Service costs are pretty tame, too, with our front-drive G25 Astina working out to an average of $360 per year for the first five years.

You’ll need to visit a workshop once every 10,000km or 12 months, whichever comes first.