Renault Captur vs MG Im6

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

A super solid first outing from the IM brand. Don't let the pricing fool you, there is still bang for buck on offer in the IM6 Performance, even if it at times feels a bit too digital for my tastes.

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.

I feel almost mean saying this, because there will be plenty of people who like the way the IM6 looks, and I don’t want to rain on their parade. But… I’m not one of them.

It reminds me a bit of the pre-facelift Tesla Model Y, in that it’s largely feature-less and a bit blobby, and there’s not a sharp angle anywhere to be found on the thing. Premium to me means powerful and assured — picture just about any Audi — whereas I just find this a bit bland and soft.

Anyway, I do like the big alloys, the insulated glass roof and the light treatment front and rear.

And I like the cabin. The seats aren’t leather, but they’re super thick and comfortable, and there is a genuinely premium air in the cabin, helped by the acreage of screens and the quality elements, like the little door panels.

The doors unlatch electrically, matching the pop-out door handles outside, but they can be a bit fidgety. Someone from MG told me how they worked (you kind of cover the handle and let the door come to you) but I watched everyone else who tried to open them struggle. If you're at the point where you have to explain how a door handle works, you might have over-egged the pudding.

The second screen below the main one acts a bit like a mobile phone. You can alter your home screen widgets and access the main menu, even as Apple CarPlay is synched at the top. You’ll get used to it, I’m sure, but I found it to be a bit fidgety.

Actually it reminds me a little bit of the Lexus trackpad, or whatever that hateful system was called, where you controlled the main screen via a little mousepad thing, though happily it’s nowhere near as annoying as that was.

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.

The IM6 measures 4904mm long, 1988mm wide and 1669mm tall, and it rides on a 2950mm wheelbase, with IM describing it as a "mid-large SUV", though I expect it will be classed as a medium SUV Australia.

That said, ICE and EV mid-size electric SUVs are not cut from the same cloth, with the latter making use of a flat floor to maximise space. And so it is with the IM6, where backseat room is pretty damn impressive. I’m 175cm, and I had no problem at all with legroom or headroom, plus the same plush seats from up there are in the back, too.

There are also air vents but no temperature controls, and while there are USB ports, there is no regular household-style plug in the cabin. 

The glass in the windows is laminated, while the roof is double glazed, which MG tells me is Australian summer-proof, but I guess we'll know for sure in a couple of months.

There’s no shortage of cargo room either. There’s a 32-litre frunk up front, and there’s 646 litres in the boot with the rear seats in place. They’re 60/40 split, and if you drop them, luggage space grows to 1621 litres.

The towing capacity is a braked 1500kg, too, but I don’t expect to see many of these towing a camper trailer around.

Premium play means more premium prices, and my IM6 Performance will set you back $80,990 on the road. That might have just sent your eyebrows skyward, but keep in mind it’s faster than some Ferraris, and is swimming with high-end tech, so the bang-for-buck factor is actually still pretty good.

There are cheaper ones, too. The single-motor Premium grade is $60,990 drive-away, albeit with less power and slower charging. Then there’s the Platinum, with a bigger battery and faster charging, which is $69,990

The Performance, though, gets everything IM has to give, including an 800-volt architecture, which means super-fast charging, as well as twin motors, brutal acceleration, a decent driving range and adaptive air suspension.

Elsewhere, you get LED lighting, a big and insulated glass roof, and 20-inch alloy wheels. Inside, there are thick and soft synthetic leather seats that are heated and cooled in both rows, a banging 20-speaker sound system, and wireless charging to pair with wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto.

There’s also 'active noise cancellation', and a seat-aware digital assistant which is about the best, and fastest, I’ve ever used. The IM6’s speaker system can locate where a voice is coming from, so any passenger can use the assistant. For example, if you’re in the backseat and say 'hey IM, lower my window', only your window opens. It’s a technology that I specifically remember the German brands crowing about not so long ago.

There’s also a 10.5-inch central touchscreen that controls much of the vast 26.3-inch screen that runs from in front of the driver to the centre of the cabin, as well as clever little magnets embedded in the dash in front of the driver, as well as in the back of the front seat headrests, that are designed to hold phones, iPads or other little accessories.

Also cool is the IM6’s self-parking tech, but there’s also a relatively useless crab walk function, which leans on the rear-wheel steering system to drive diagonally at slow speeds. I’m still not entirely sure when you’d use that one, to be honest.

Honestly, it’s a lot of stuff, and a lot of tech.

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 the real party trick of the IM6, because there’s a nuclear power plant under the metal somewhere. All up, the twin-motor setup produces a total 578kW and 802Nm, though I suspect you’re never accessing all the grunt all at once. Still, 100km/h zips by in 3.4 seconds, and the top speed is 239km/h. For the record, that’s exactly as fast the Ferrari Roma Spider I recently handed back, so yeah, it’s properly supercar quick.

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.

Also on board is a 100kWh Nickel-Cobalt-Magnesium battery that produces a WLTP driving range of 505kms. Pretty good.

Charging is strong, too. The high-tech platform allows for 396kW DC fast charging, which is faster than what is currently offered in Australia. The claim is 30-80 per cent charged in 15 minutes. There’s also an external vehicle-to-load (V2L) port.

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.

First things first, don't get too distracted by the word "performance" here. The IM6 doesn't act like a performance car, it feels bit too plush, and bit too digital, for that.

But that's not necessarily a bad thing. Performance cars are often loud, raucous and uncomfortable, and the IM6 is none of those things. Instead, those mountains of power and torque make silky, silent progress absolutely effortless, which feels pretty premium to me.

MG makes a big deal of how much work went into insulating the cabin from noise – with active noise cancellation joined by double-paned insulated glass – and it is a properly calming and quiet space.

Also strong is the suspension, with the adaptive air setup soaking up most bumps and bruises, but I found it can clang over really solid bumps, sounding like it's bouncing off a stopper. The steering is solid, too, with a nice weight, if not overly talkative in the feedback department, while the rear-wheel steering helps eat into the turning circle for tight three-point turns.

The downside, though, is that it all feels a little too digital, and like there's been a little too much overthinking gone into it. Having to push a button to see behind you in a hurry is bonkers (see my explanation in the Safety section below), and the secondary screen is more annoying than intuitive. And there were several bings or bongs I couldn't even identify. All of which interrupts the otherwise calming nature of the drive experience.

There is a long list of safety aids on the IM6, and I won't detail the lot here. But I will call out a couple of curious mentions.

As always, the driver distraction warning is annoying, but can be switched off. And MG also counts the IM platform, or what it calls a digital chassis, as part of the safety offering. It has its own digital brain that adapts the air suspension, the rear-wheel steering and the active safety kit on the fly.

The other curiosity is the weird way you see out the back. Rather than fit a digital rear-view mirror to counteract the almost non-existent rear vision, you instead push up on a little toggle on the steering wheel to bring up a live view of what's happening behind you on the central screen.

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 IM6 is covered by a five-year, unlimited-kilometre warranty, rather than MG’S 10-year term. Capped-price servicing is offered for the first five years, with your total bill just under $3000. The service intervals are 20,000kms or 12 months.