Renault Captur vs Mazda MX-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

The MX-30 is a tough one to give you a clear verdict on. In summary, though, the math just doesn’t add up. This car is way too expensive and offers next to no range for Australia’s vast intercity distances, essentially resigning buyers to a life within city limits.

On the other hand, I love the design ethos of this little SUV. It’s truly a statement, and it’s rare to find a car that is so committed to its uniqueness. It’s also easily one of the best EVs to drive right now, so those who understand its compromises will no doubt be left with smiles on their faces.

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.

The MX-30 oozes design. I would go so far as to say this car is more focused on being a design statement than it is an SUV (as evidenced by its lack of practicality…) or an EV (as evidenced by its lack of range…).

Mazda’s Kodo design language is already eye-grabbing, so it’s to the MX-30’s credit that it manages to be striking, even against other members of the Mazda family, as it strays from a well-refined formula.

The large grille has been dumped in favour of something much smaller but the 3D effect of the Kodo face still persists. The light clusters adopt their own personality - they're inspired by the Mazda3, arguably, but they stand on their own.

The side profile, squat dimensions, and contrasting panel work (in our car’s case, a matte grey against the brand’s signature ‘Soul Red’) alert you to the fact that the MX-30 is something quite different indeed. And all this is before you notice the fact that it has clamshell rear doors.

Yep, that’s right, the MX-30 reaches into the brand’s history and brings back the outward folding door design once seen on the RX-8 rotary sports coupe. Opening it up is an event, and those doors wow onlookers with their unusual unfurling. Unfortunately, it’s not as smart as it looks, but we’ll get to that in the practicality part of this review.

The inside again blends familiar Mazda themes with entirely new ones. The material design is incredible. For the first time in a long time, I felt like a kid in some kind of tactile science museum, prodding, squeezing, and scratching at this car’s many interior elements to see if they were, in fact, made of the occasionally unbelievable materials they seem to be.

It doesn’t disappoint. Yes, the door cards really have a splash of an odd grey carpet material, very Volvo, the seats are really trimmed in some sort of synthetic leather, the quality grain of which has to be felt to be understood (it's very Mercedes), and the centre console is really made of recycled cork panelling, which is very BMW.

All of this might sound a bit silly (and the cork stuff perhaps is) but along with the stepped centre console design, weird semi-digital dash cluster and familiar bits out of other Mazdas, it is difficult to not enjoy being in such a creative and unusual space.

The commitment to this funky, unusual design, has some major practicality drawbacks, which we’ll take a look at next.

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.

Put simply, the MX-30 is about as practical as a sports coupe, which is a feat given it has the footprint and height of an SUV.

It starts with those clamshell doors. Sure, they look amazing, but they’re annoying to open because the handle is on the inside, so you have to open the front doors before you can open the rear ones. At best this costs you time when you’re just trying to load objects, pets, or kids, at worst it makes the rear of the cabin nearly impossible to access in a tight car park.

Even in my unit parking spot, I could barely access the rear seats, making it especially annoying when I just wanted to chuck a bag in the rear footwell.

Even if you don’t have trouble getting an adult back there, space is limited. Behind my own driving position, my knees were up against the seat in front, and while I had plenty of headroom, it feels a bit claustrophobic, thanks to the tiny windows and high beltline.

I’ll hand some credit to the commitment to this car’s design, though, the odd carpet trims continue into the rear doors, and there's even a plush padded surface for your elbows on either side. Nice touch. The seats also feel unusually low and sporty for an SUV, particularly an electric one.

As if it couldn’t be more clear that this car has the intention of being some sort of sports coupe, the front seats are lovely. Comfortable, supportive, and with plenty of soft trims throughout the cabin, I felt as though I had plenty of room here. The raised console design means the multimedia functions and toggles were easy to reach and use, and while the climate functions are somewhat awkwardly placed on a touch panel, at least they were set and forget most of the time.

There’s a tactile dial for volume control, and although the multimedia interface is dial-based rather than touch, Mazda’s system is one of the easiest to use once you get used to it.

There’s a large storage area under the centre console, hosting two USB ports and a household power outlet, and atop that there’s a cork-finished tray, which flips up to reveal dual bottle holders in the centre. Behind this there’s a small armrest console box, trimmed in the same plush padding as the doors and seats. Front occupants can also make use of small pockets in the doors and a glovebox.

Unlike some electric cars, the MX-30 doesn’t score a ‘frunk’, which seems like a wasted opportunity because the engine bay is half empty. Serviceable items look incredibly easy to access because of this, with liquid tanks and coolant hoses on display, but I can’t help but feeling Mazda could have put a small storage space here with some packaging trickery. It’s equally possible that there’s a crash-safety consideration, however.

Moving to the boot, and unfortunately there’s a small-hatch-sized 311 litres on offer, because there’s also next to no underfloor space, and you’ll have to store your charging cables in there, too, further reducing the space. With the cable bags strapped in place, the boot fit our largest (124L) CarsGuide travel case with little extra room to spare. It’s weekender luggage space at best, but then I suppose you won’t be able to go away for long with the range on offer anyway…

The price and features equation for electric cars is somewhat different from the status quo of their combustion equivalents. You can’t just consider standard spec inclusions, there’s a need to factor in range and charging capability, too, as battery capacity and AC to DC charging converters can have a dramatic effect on the cost.

Frustratingly for Mazda’s EV offering, the sums don’t add up as neatly as I’d like them to. The MX-30 EV is available in one top-spec trim, the E35 Astina, which wears a before-on-roads cost (MSRP) of $65,490.

This places it in the same league as the Hyundai Kona electric Highlander ($66,000), Kia Niro EV S ($67,490), and Tesla Model 3 Standard Range + which just had a significant price cut ($59,900).

To make things worse for our fledging Mazda EV, it has a WLTP-rated range of just 200km (or 225km using the ADR method)! There’s no two ways about it; this is pitiful in the face of the aforementioned rivals, all of which offer ranges in excess of 420km when measured against the same standard. Even the much cheaper base-model Nissan Leaf ($49,990) offers 270km of range.

You can’t not factor this in with an EV purchase, particularly in Australia where grand distances between cities essentially rules out any intercity trips for the MX-30 EV.

The brand is hoping this car’s funky and innovative design cues, which we’ll talk about in the next part of this review, will win the hearts of city-slickers, but the MX-30 is not lacking on the standard equipment front, either.

Stuff you’ll get out of the box includes 18-inch alloy wheels, an 8.8-inch multimedia screen (which, like this car’s CX-30 and Mazda3 siblings is a non-touch unit, controlled through a central dial), Apple CarPlay and Android Auto connectivity, a 7.0-inch semi-digital dash cluster, Bose 12-speaker premium audio, built-in sat-nav, head-up display, semi leather synthetic interior trim, full LED exterior lighting, a holographic head-up display, single-zone climate control with its own 7.0-inch touch panel controller, heated front seats, as well as keyless entry with push-start ignition.

The MX-30 has some unique interior materials, and I’m not sure why more EVs don’t have a full-size domestic power socket, as this car does under the centre console at the front. Handy for when you need to charge household devices larger than a phone on-the-go (hair-curling tongs perhaps?). There are a few spec omissions, however. Dual-zone climate, power seat adjust, and a wireless phone charger are chief among the missing.

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.

The MX-30 has an electric motor on the front axle with a single-speed reduction-gear transmission. It produces low-sounding figures of 107kW and 271Nm of torque, which is less than most of its rivals, although it has more power and less torque than the equivalently sized (but much cheaper) MG ZS EV.

Although these power figures don’t look as impressive as rivals, it’s worth remembering that the MX-30 has much less weight to carry around, so when it comes to driving it’s a much better story than it appears. More on that later.

The MX-30 offers three levels of regenerative braking, controlled through the wheel-mounted paddle-shifters, a necessary touch, and one that offers decent feedback on how your driving style is affecting range, via the dash and multimedia screen.

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.

The MX-30 has some advantages here, in that its tiny (35.5kWh to be precise) lithium-ion battery pack means it charges up pretty quickly. The downside? It’s not as quick as it could be, and its efficiency leaves a little to be desired.

As already discussed at length, this small battery means a very short range – between 200 and 224km depending on which standard you want to go by, and the MX-30 is claimed to consume 18.5kWh of energy on the combined cycle.

This is disappointing because not only is the claim higher than rivals like the Kona electric and Nissan Leaf, but in reality, I couldn’t best it with predominantly city driving, as I have previously been able to in all its rivals. Over some 250km of testing I managed a dash-reported 18.9kWh/100km.

The MX-30 EV takes a European-standard Type 2 CCS charger, the most popular kind in Australia, and will charge up at a rate of 50kW on DC or 6.6kW on AC.

It would have been nice to see that boosted to at least 7.2kW AC to be a bit more competitive on AC charging speed. For a car that will need to be charged frequently, even a 10-minute difference in charging time is important. While 50kW DC is about right for a battery pack this size, I assume there will be cooling issues pushing that to 100kW+ as the Hyundai Kona electric and Tesla Model 3 with nearly twice the battery size are capable of.

Mazda estimates a charge time of 36 minutes on DC, three hours on a three-phase AC charger, or nine hours from a ~2.4kW wall outlet. I charged my MX-30 a single time before returning it, from about 10 – 80 per cent, with it maxing out at around 50kW. It charged in less than 40 minutes, however, as promised.

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.

Usually, it’s easier here to talk about how electric cars are different from their combustion counterparts, or how they are great for an electric car. In the case of the MX-30, however, it’s just a great car to drive.

I’ll admit, I didn’t expect this little EV to match, much less exceed the driving experience of its CX-30 sibling, but it was a pleasant surprise to find out how great it was.

It turns out that having a much smaller battery, and therefore a much lower kerb weight than most EVs, means the MX-30 feels light, agile, and rapid compared to all of its rivals, which goes some way to making up for its lesser outputs.

In fact, I had no trouble with the motor at all, with the MX-30 feeling faster and more responsive than the Hyundai Kona electric or the Kia Niro EV.

Mazda’s handling prowess is also on full show here, with the smooth and accurate steering allowing me to point this little SUV with remarkable accuracy. The steering tune is lighter than the Kona electric, but a bit more significant than the Kia Niro's. It emboldens you to have a bit of fun, and again, unlike rivals, Mazda’s suspension tune has your back.

It’s sporty enough to engage you, but not so firm that it sends tremors through the cabin, an impressive feat considering it has a less complex torsion bar rear. If anyone had asked me, I would have sworn it was multi-link all-round.

The whole experience feels very similar to helming the CX-30 or Mazda3, but I’d even say the MX-30 feels better over the front end, with less rough rebound than its siblings.

It also makes a cool noise. Mazda have given the MX-30 an artificial tone, plumbed through the speakers, and unlike the science-fiction hum generated by the Hyundai group EVs, the Mazda’s is a warm drone, more reminiscent of a combustion engine.

To be clear here, the MX-30 is no Tesla Model 3. That car is seriously rapid, with mind-bending handling, although I will say there’s a certain poise and refinement to the way the Mazda drives. Even in the corners, it’s confidence inspiring, with the torque-vectoring magic built into the electric motor on full show.

Perhaps one of the reasons that this car is a tad less efficient than its rivals is its lack of weight, which would allow more energy to be fed back into the battery during regenerative braking. Or perhaps its regen braking modes are a bit too forgiving, either way it’s nice that the Mazda offers three easily controllable levels via the paddle-shifters. I even became a fan of the quaint analogue power dial, even if it does give you a bit less feedback than the sleek software suites in Hyundai Group or Tesla offerings.

The MX-30, then, hits an unexpected niche. The benefits of its smaller battery pack and a focus on handling make this car one of the best EVs to drive today, even if you’re restricted to city limits, and regular recharging.

Like all recently launched Mazdas, the MX-30 is packed full of advanced ‘i-Activesense’ safety gear. In terms of cutting-edge items, this includes freeway-speed auto emergency braking, now with low-speed intersection assist as well as pedestrian and cyclist detection, lane-keep assist with lane-departure warning, blind-spot monitoring with active intervention, as well as front and rear cross traffic alert, with rear emergency braking.

The MX-30 also has the expected suite of electronic assistance but goes further to include torque vectoring and has a total of 10 airbags – a lot for a very small cabin. It also comes packed standard with front and rear parking sensors, as well as a 360-degree parking camera suite. It’s amongst the best safety suites in terms of pure features in the small SUV segment.

The MX-30 has a maximum five-star ANCAP safety rating to the 2020 standards.

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).

The MX-30 is covered by Mazda’s industry-standard five-year and unlimited kilometre warranty, while the battery pack is covered by a separate eight-year promise, on par with its Korean rivals. Mazda includes roadside assist for the duration of the warranty.

The EV has service intervals of 12 months or 15,000km whichever occurs first, and a five-year service plan comes in at $1273.79, working out to an average of $254.76 a year. That’s getting close to Toyota levels of cheap servicing, and so it should, given electric cars (at least in theory) have much less to attend to when it comes service time.