What's the difference?
I'm going to reveal something of myself here - I used to be a RenaultSport Clio owner. This is what the purists call what we now know as Clio RS, and I find myself constantly corrected yet unrepentant. It was a 172 - a nuggety three-door with wheels that looked too small, a weird seating position and a 2.0-litre naturally aspirated engine that was big on torque as long as you belted it.
It was a classic and you could still see the links back to the epoch-making Renault Clio Williams, that blue and gold Mk 1 Clio we never saw in Australia that redefined the genre. The current Clio has been around for four years now and I even drove this current RS Clio at its launch in 2013, memorable for the sudden bucketing rain that drenched the circuit and made things very interesting indeed.
This Clio was a big change from the cars that went before - slimmer-hipped, less aggressive-looking and with a 1.6-litre turbo engine, five-door-only body and (gasp!) no manual, just Renault's twin-clutch EDC transmission. It was a hit, at least with enthusiasts. Back then it was the dawn of a golden age in small hot hatches. But that was then, this is now. With a small power bump and a couple of features thrown in, is the ageing RS still at the pointy end?
The Nissan Juke was meant to herald a new era for Nissan in Australia.
It was the first in a slew of new-generation SUVs and has now been joined by the Qashqai, X-Trail, and Pathfinder as part of a new-look Nissan.
Unlike those others, though, the Juke hasn’t quite resonated with buyers. Since arriving to what Nissan probably expected to be fanfare back in 2020, the new Juke has since sunk to the bottom of its compact SUV segment, outselling only a handful of other models.
So, what went wrong? Is the quirky styling of the Juke too much? Are there too many appealing choices in the compact SUV space? Alternatively, could the Juke be an underrated gem worth checking out?
I find myself in an upper mid-spec ST-L to find out.
The Clio RS is still a ton of fun and in Cup spec, probably the best compromise between price and livability. Despite its advancing years (it turns five this year, so ready to start kindy) and big brother Megane hogging the limelight with a fancy new model on the way, the Clio is a stayer. It's missing some frustratingly obvious things like CarPlay, AEB, rear airbags and rear cross-traffic alert, but it's hardly alone in the segment.
With the departure of the Fiesta ST, though, the Clio returns to the top of the list of best small hot hatches on sale today.
The Juke is a fun little car. It looks cool, it packs most of the important features and safety equipment, but while it can be fun to drive, it’s also a little clunky around town.
It’s so frustrating, because there is a great car in there somewhere, and it would take only small tweaks and enhancements to bring it out.
The Clio is a handsome small car but nothing out of the ordinary until you apply the very cool Liquid Yellow paint. That hue really is quite something and works even better with the black alloys of the Cup chassis.
The car has some lovely surfacing and in a recent-ish refresh, the slightly odd headlights were reworked, as were the front and rear bumpers which now link to the RenaultSport Megane. Sorry, Megane RS. The RS flag signature lighting is a nice touch, acting as DRLs at the bottom corners of the front bumper.
The lovely organic shapes of the Clio's sides still look good and the rather tough rear end with the chunky diffuser leaves you in no doubt that it's the proper RS not the halfway-house, 1.2-litre GT-Line.
Inside is starting to look its age, but graceful, a bit like Jamie-Lee Curtis' or George Clooney's embrace of grey hair. There are still some of the sharp edges I didn't like. It's certainly a Renault to look at and ergonomically works pretty well. One thing that has been fixed at some point is the switch on the gear selector - it won't bite you if you curl your finger underneath when you press it. You might think that's a small thing, but when you did it, damn it hurt.
Urban style is clearly what the Juke is about. It’s always been about this, but the original incarnation, while unusual, was a bit bulbous and awkward. The current version is a razor-sharp re-interpretation of the original.
Ugly duckling no more, the Juke blends the elements of Nissan’s current design language with its own unique take, in a clever way.
The roofline and bulbous face of the original car, complete with its ‘eye’ headlights are all maintained, but this time they look more contemporary with a splash of chrome and gunmetal plastic in the face, offset by gloss blacks running down the doorline.
The new light fittings look great and the curviness is also gently off-set with some sharp angles. The massive 19-inch wheels finished in a two-tone gloss black and aluminium brush keep this car looking like a concept come to life. Just don’t crash them into the curb. It would be very easy to.
The cool elements continue inside, with rotary air vents, a blend of textures, including a gloss grey for the vent claddings, with white stitching for the wheel, seat, and into the door cards, too.
There are touches of chrome about the place, and an ambient red LED light surrounding the shifter, which sits on its own little pedestal thing.
It’s quirky and punches above its weight when it comes to soft trims in the doors. Like most higher-grade Nissans the seats are pretty comfy, too, clad in a hard-wearing synthetic leather material.
But it won’t be for everyone, and it’s not without its downsides. The abundance of grey plastic down the centre console is a bit cheap, and the tech offering doesn’t match the youthful style.
The centre screen is adequate, but compared to many rivals it’s a bit small and dull, and the Juke is still missing a digital overhaul for its instrument cluster.
The black headlining, usually reserved for sportier cars, makes the cabin feel smaller than it is.
The Clio's interior is certainly snug. Rear seat passengers do okay for legroom but headroom is a mite marginal with the falling roofline for six footers. There are no cupholders out back, that curious French habit of supplying just a couple of cup receptacles of different and weird sizes persists. The front doors have space for bottles, the rears do not.
The boot is class-competitive at 300 litres (worth knowing the Trophy loses 70 litres to the Cup) and with the seats down stretches to a claimed 1146L.
The Juke is a small SUV in the true sense of the word, sitting below the Qashqai which is more like a mid-sizer these days in terms of dimensions.
However, it’s quite cleverly packaged on the inside and is more useful than it first appears.
The front seats, for example, offer heaps of headroom and a surprising amount of width, and while the seats are manual, they’re pretty adjustable. I was able to find a great seating position.
There are big pockets in the doors with an integrated bottle holder suitable for even the largest bottles, although the centre console area is a bit less versatile, choosing its funky design over additional storage.
It features two good bottle holders, but a tiny armrest box and a shallow tray with one 12V socket and a USB-A outlet, as well as an auxiliary audio input under the climate controls.
On the topic of climate controls, I love the fact the Juke maintains a dedicated ventilation panel complete with buttons and dials for all the core functions. No touchscreen nonsense here.
The media screen, as mentioned, is a tad small, and falls victim to glare easily.
The stock Nissan software is a massive upgrade on the brand’s previous-generation products, but while it’s functional it’s far from the prettiest or the fastest on the market.
The back seat offers more space than you might assume, but it’s not as well thought-out as the front of the cabin. At 182cm tall I fit behind my own driving position with just enough space for my knees and just enough headroom.
There are decent bottle holders in the doors, and a further two small ones in the drop-down armrest. The backs of the front seats are clad in that synthetic leather material, which is nice, and have soft pockets, too.
The back of the front centre console offers just a single USB-A outlet and a small cubby. There are no adjustable air vents for rear passengers. It also feels a little claustrophobic back there thanks to the black trim on everything and smaller windows.
Boot capacity for the Juke is impressive for an SUV in this class, with 422 litres on offer, which is close to the volume we’d expect from something a size-bracket up, and 1305L with the second row folded down. There is a space-saver spare under the boot floor.
The iconic 'Liquid Yellow' ($750 option) Clio I had for the week was the Cup spec chassis. The Clio RS 200, as it is officially known, comes in two specs - Sport and Cup - and there's a Trophy 220 at the top of the range. I had the Cup, which retails at $32,490 (plus on-road costs). The RS220 Trophy, with a bit more poke and stuff, weighs in at $38,990 if you're interested.
The Cup spec is heavily based on the more affordable ($30,990) Sport, which means you get 18-inch alloy wheels (painted black, so watch those kerbs), climate control, four speaker stereo, keyless entry and start (the "key" is still that unwieldy keycard style thing), reversing camera, cruise control, front and rear parking sensors, fog lamps, LED daytime running lights, sat nav, auto LED headlights, auto wipers, launch control, leather bits and pieces and a tyre inflation kit instead of any kind of spare.
The 7.0-inch 'R-Link' touch screen software runs the four speaker stereo with DAB digital radio, Bluetooth and USB. If you get the optional RS Monitor, there is a full-on telemetry system from which you can save your, er, "track day" data and overlay in Google Maps to compare with your mates' or past efforts. You can also change the piped-in engine sound to various different sound effects which are delightfully silly.
Android Auto is part of the breathtaking $1500 'Entertainment Pack' option that includes RS Monitor (which used to be standard) and no, there's no Apple CarPlay. Leather is a further $1500.
Bottom line is that you do get a decent spec bump from the $30,990 Sport along with the more capable (and less comfortable) Cup chassis.
The Juke range kicks off from just $28,390 which gets you into a base ST and reaches to $36,890 for the top-spec Ti.
We’re driving the $34,440 (before on-road costs) ST-L which is the upper mid-grade car.
It scores concept-style 19-inch alloy wheels, synthetic leather interior trim, an 8.0-inch multimedia touchscreen with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto connectivity, a 7.0-inch digital screen between the analog dials, a surround camera system, single-zone climate, keyless entry and push-start ignition, and LED headlights.
The quite attractive ‘Magnetic Blue’ paint our car wears is a $700 option. For an additional $1133 you can also step up to the ST-L+ grade which adds alternate two-tone seat trim, chrome and black highlights and a 10-speaker Bose audio system.
While this ST-L grade gets the lion’s share of Juke equipment without the price-hike to the Ti (and is therefore the pick of the range) there are some notable items missing at this price.
For example, there’s no wireless phone charging, no head-up display, no fully digital instrument cluster, and no electrical adjustment for the seats. The 8.0-inch multimedia screen is starting to look a bit dated, too.
Still, it looks trendy and those massive wheels are well above the standard for a car at this size or price. So, if you’re going for style over equipment there is a choice to be made here.
Nissan also hasn’t cheaped out on safety equipment, with most active stuff coming standard, even on the base ST. More on this later.
Pricing is about line-ball with its most direct competitors. It’s a tad cheaper than some like the outgoing similarly-styled Toyota C-HR (Koba 2WD - $35,695), or slightly more expensive than others like the current equivalent Ford Puma (ST-Line - $33,190) or Mazda CX-3 (Touring SP - $34,300) although it is also ever so slightly larger than those last two by width, height, and wheelbase.
The 200-equipped RSes pony up 147kW/260Nm, which is pretty much bang-on the obvious competition (Peugeot 208 GTI and the outgoing Fiesta ST), driving the front wheels through Renault's six-speed EDC twin-clutch. Unlike those two, there is no overboost function.
Dieppe's finest sprints from 0-100km/h in a claimed 6.7 seconds, pulling along a kerb weight of 1204kg.
In the Juke’s messy engine bay lies a 1.0-litre, three-cylinder, turbo-petrol engine which sends 84kW/180Nm to the front wheels.
Nissan has its own 'HR10DET' engine code for this unit but it’s actually a Renault 'H5Dt' engine as evidenced by Renault logos all over the place.
Power is communicated by a seven-speed dual-clutch automatic which has been a source of strife for this car since it arrived. This very European engine and transmission combination is one which the Juke shares with its Renault Captur cousin.
I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but I would prefer a continuously variable transmission (CVT) which Nissan uses elsewhere in its range. It would solve maybe the main issue with this car, which we’ll explore up next in the driving section of this review
Renault claims 5.9L/100km on the combined cycle but, yeah, nah. My week was admittedly filled with plenty of horseplay and spirited driving, yielding 11.4L/100km. If you were careful you may fare better - but not that much better.
The fuel tank is a fairly standard 45 litres. It requires 98RON premium unleaded.
One of the reasons this car comes equipped with a dual-clutch automatic is to chase fuel efficiency as well as emissions output. On paper DCT autos don’t suffer the inherent losses of a traditional torque converter transmission.
The official combined cycle fuel consumption figure is 5.8L/100km. My week of driving, weighted slightly more towards freeway conditions, produced a marginally higher average of 6.8L/100km. It’s not the claim, but it’s pretty good.
This little engine requires mid-shelf 95RON unleaded fuel, and the Juke has a 46-litre fuel tank, suggesting a driving range of 793km using the official fuel consumption number.
The RS has always had a belter of a chassis. The Cup chassis became a thing just over a decade ago and is lauded by the fans as The One To Have. I've not always been convinced of this as my earlier drives of the Cup-equipped machines have usually been in close proximity to the Sport chassis.
The Cup is slightly lower than the Sport, with 15 per cent stiffer springs and dampers and perhaps more importantly it scores 18-inch wheels with Dunlop Sport Maxx RT2 tyres, which you can reasonably expect to be a bit firmer than the 17s with Goodyear F1s on the Sport. And they are.
However, in most situations, the Cup chassis is perfectly benign. You certainly feel the bumps and lumps, but you haven't bought a Cup chassis for Lexus-like isolation. It's certainly sharper than the Sport chassis and when you're really giving it a go around the bends, the comfort deficit is more than made up for by the extra grip and poise.
The RS has always had a belter of a chassis.
The chassis is aided and abetted by a torquey 1.6-turbo that cheerfully...no, gleefully spins to the redline which could do with another thousand revs, but that's forced induction for you. The aluminium shift paddles need a good positive pull to get a gear, but that gear is delivered quickly and effortlessly. The Clio is a great deal of fun in Sport and Race modes, with throttle mappings and gearshifts becoming more aggressive as you switch through the modes.
The brakes are tremendously effective and the electronic limited slip diff (*cough* brake-based torque vectoring) ensures you'll hit your apexes and the tyres spend more time gripping than spinning.
But it's not all hairpins and off-camber left-right-lefts, is it? Plenty of owners have to live with the car in traffic day to day. Driving the Cup in isolation, I've changed my mind about it. I reckon it's the best of the two chassis settings. The city ride is better than decent, with the hard edges potholes chamfered off by the dampers and decent compliance. It's not too noisy, either.
The Juke can be fun to drive, and I wanted to like it more, but the transmission its peppy little engine is paired with is frustrating.
Outputs of 84kW/180Nm doesn’t sound like a lot, but power isn’t the problem. The little engine has a fun turbo-surge which pairs with the Juke's light frame to make for a car which is quite athletic when you push it.
The issue is a mountain of turbo-lag conspires with the clunky dual-clutch automatic to make it far too sluggish off the line.
There’s a full second (or two, at times) to wait for any power to arrive, which simply isn’t good enough at T-junctions and roundabouts, the kind of situations a little urban SUV like this will constantly be encountering.
Nissan says the transmission software was even updated after the Juke’s launch, but it’s still not where it should be.
It has good traits, too. When you’re out on the open road, it has quick, snappy and well-defined shifts, and the engine is much better when it’s being properly pushed, too.
It has a gruff, entertaining tone, and the Juke’s light frame, firm ride, and comparatively heavy steering make it a joy to throw into some corners.
The long wheelbase for such a small SUV, paired with a decent set of tyres, also keeps it confident when its predecessor was a little clumsy.
Again, though, the reasonably hard ride, not helped by the very large wheels, isn't its best trait in an urban environment. The Juke is by no means uncomfortable, it just seems like the priorities for this little SUV aren’t in the right place.
I’ve said this before but there’s a great car in here somewhere. The Juke is fun to drive in the right environment, it’s just this environment is not where most prospective buyers will primarily be looking to use it.
What could fix this issue? A different transmission perhaps. Better yet, an e-Power hybrid powertrain.
On board the Clio is four airbags (no curtain coverage for those in the rear), ABS, stability and traction controls, a reversing camera and two ISOFIX points along with three top-tether anchors.
The Clio was awarded a five-star ANCAP rating in November 2013.
The Juke's standard active safety features include freeway-speed auto emergency braking, lane departure warning with lane keep assist, blind-spot monitoring with rear cross-traffic alert, adaptive cruise control and traffic sign recognition.
Last time I reviewed this car I complained about the way it vibrates the steering wheel when the lane keep function decides you’re going out of your lane. But having since experienced so many more invasive lane keep systems, this one seems comparatively low-key.
Elsewhere, the Juke gets the standard array of six airbags (dual front, side, and curtain) and wears a maximum five-star ANCAP safety rating to the 2019 standards.
Renault says it was the first European maker to offer a five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty in Australia, and who are we to argue? The package also includes up to four years of roadside assist and three years of capped-price servicing.
Renault expects to see you just once a year or every 20,000km, which gives you a bit more headroom than some similar service plans, at least on the mileage. The first three services will cost no more than $369 unless you need a new air filter ($38) or pollen filter ($46). At 60,000km or four years you'll cop $262 for a set of spark plugs. The company's website also suggests if the Clio doesn't like the state of its oil, it will beep at you until you have that attended to.
Nissan offers the Juke with a five-year, unlimited km warranty, with five-years of roadside assist included.
It requires servicing every 12 months or 20,000km and the cost is subject to a capped price servicing program for the first six years.
This averages $651.33 annually, which is not cheap for a small SUV in this class.
However, there is also the option of a pre-paid five-year service plan which brings the annual cost over five years down to a more reasonable $429.60.
But, notably, it does not include the pricy $1521 sixth-year interval. It’s worth asking yourself how long you’ll own the car for before splurging on it.