Renault Master vs Audi RS5

What's the difference?

If you’re after a budget-conscious offering in the large van segment, the Renault Master could be a really solid proposition. It falls short of the safety expectations set by its newer rival, though, and that’s something you might not be able to put a price on.

Good looking, good to drive, and good to simply sit in, the Audi RS5 range ticks plenty of premium boxes. Whether you can live with the practicality pitfalls of the Coupe is up to you, but if you can't, might I suggest taking a wander over to our RS4 Avant review?

The front-end styling of the Master has been modernised with a “robust” new look which sees it adopt a more upright nose with a bulkier grille, squared-off headlights (with LED daytime running lights as standard, along with halogen headlights).

There were no other changes made to the exterior, so if you see it side on or from the rear, you’d be hard pressed to tell if it's the new model.

This is the second facelift for this generation (X62) Master, which originated back in 2010. It is also offered in some markets as a Nissan, Opel, and Vauxhall. And this version certainly freshens up the appearance, though the practicality of the Master line-up remains unchanged.

That’s a good thing: you can still get the van as a short-wheelbase with low roof (L1H1), a mid-wheelbase with mid roof (L2H2), a long-wheelbase with mid roof (L3H2), or an extra-long-wheelbase with high roof (L4H3). There’s also the choice of a single cab-chassis Platform ute model, too. 

Our test model is the L2H2, meaning dimensions of 5575mm long on a lengthy 3682mm wheelbase (giving it a 13.6-metre turning circle), while the width is 2070mm and the height is 2499mm. Too tall for car parks (and drive-thru windows, in this age of social distancing). 

The good news about the height, though, is that it allows you excellent interior dimensions. The cargo hold of this version is 3083mm long, 1765mm wide (and 1380mm between the wheel-arches, enough for Aussie pallets to slide in easily), and the height is 1894mm inside. I’m six-foot tall (1820mm) and that meant I could safely step in and out of the cargo zone without fear of hitting my head. The load space is 10.8 cubic metres in this spec. 

As you’ll see in the interior section, the cabin has been given a bit of attention too - you can see it in the images below.

I defy anyone to describe the RS5, and especially the Coupe, as anything but stunning. Seriously, the near perfect proportions and swept-back styling make it look fast even when it's parked. 

Up front, there's a new-look black-mesh grille that's been given a 3D effect, like it juts out over the road in front it, while the thing headlights have been carved back into the body work like they're been windswept under hard acceleration.

The 20-inch darkened alloys fill the arches, too, with a sharp body crease that runs from the front headlight all the way back to the bulging shoulder lines above the rear tyres accentuating the curves.

Inside, the RS5 is a sea of black Nappa leather and sporty touches, and we particularly like the chunky, flat-bottomed steering wheel, which both looks - and feels - great.

Like all vans in this segment there are some cabin smarts that will make your life a lot easier if you spend a lot of time in the cockpit.

There are storage options aplenty, including overhead folder holders, a trio of dash-top storage caddies, dash-top cup holders, huge door pockets with bottle holders, some smaller storage cubbies near the shifter, and a glovebox that is, in the French tradition, good to hold a pair of gloves and not much else. This model had the dual passenger bench seat, with a hidden storage section underneath, and you can fold the middle seat down to form a desk platform with cup holders if that’s what you need.

Along with the storage smarts, the updated Master has seen some major changes in terms of infotainment intelligence, too. The new 7.0-inch MediaNav touchscreen system with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto is a welcome advancement for the brand, and during my time in the vehicle it proved simple to use and quick to react. The sound isn’t terrific, with just two speakers fitted, and I had to turn it up pretty loud to overcome the wind noise from this mid-roof model.

The driver’s seat is comfortable and offers decent adjustment, with height and lumbar adjustment. It’s easy to step up into the cab, too, despite there not being side grab handles. The driver also gets a new digital instrument display section on the redesigned dashboard, which includes a gear-shift indicator (but not a gear position indicator), and a digital speedometer and trip computer.

The steering wheel is new, too, and it’s much nicer than the old grainy plastic number in the pre-facelift version. Gone are the round vents across the dash and round plastic sections of the old model - now there are squared-off, more modern looking finishes that clearly aim to mimic the exterior’s now boxy-edged body.

In the cargo zone there are multiple tie-down hooks (eight on the floor, four on the side wall pillars), making for plenty of options to secure a load - though as can often be found with these eye-hook points, they can be a little too far inboard to make good use of, and in the Master’s case, there are no tie-down points rear of the wheel-arches. There is a 12-volt outlet in the back pillar, however.

We only tested the Coupe, and I can tell you that the practicality perks on offer largely depend on where you're sitting.

Up front, you're spoiled for room in the two-door Coupe, with the two spacious seats separated by a sizeable centre console that's also home to two cupholders and a variety of cubbies, with extra bottle storage in each of the front doors. 

The back seat, though, is a little, or a lot, tighter, with come acrobatics required to even climb into it, given the Coupe only has two doors. The Sportback offers two more doors, which will surely make the process a little easier. 

The Coupe measures 4723mm in length, 1866mm in width and 1372mm in height, and will deliver a decent 410 litres in luggage space in the boot. The Sportback measures in at 4783mm, 1866mm and 1399mm, and boosts your luggage space to 465 litres.

Either vehicle has your tech needs sorted, with an abundance of USB and power outlets serving both front and backseat riders.

It's available as a Coupe or a Sportback, but either way, the RS5 commands a $150,900 asking price. And that's not chump change, but Audi's performance model does come with a lot of bang for those bucks.

We'll get to the engine and safety stuff in a moment, but in terms of fruit, you'll find 20-inch alloys outside, as well sportier RS body styling, sport brakes, Matrix LED headlights, keyless entry and push-button start and heated mirrors, a sunroof and privacy glass. Inside, there's Nappa leather seats (heated in the front), illuminated door sills, stainless steel pedals and ambient interior lighting.

The tech stuff is handled by a new 10.1-inch central touchscreen that gets both Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, as well as Audi's Virtual Cockpit, which replaces the dials in the driver's binnacle with a digital screen. There's also wireless phone charging, and a killer 19-speaker Bang and Olufsen sound system.

The power outputs and torque figures depend on the transmission you choose. 

Despite the fact that both manual and automatic versions of the Master run a 2.3-litre four-cylinder diesel engine, there’s a difference between the engines: the version with the six-speed manual transmission is a twin-turbo unit, while the six-speed automated manual transmission makes use of a single-turbo diesel.

There’s not much in it when it comes to the difference in outputs, however.

The manual version has a slight horsepower advantage, with 120kW of power (at 3500rpm) and 360Nm of torque (at 1500rpm).

The automated manual has a maximum power of 110kW (at 3500rpm) and 350Nm of torque (at 1500rpm).

Both transmissions are geared the same across all six ratios, though from experience, the automated manual is best left at the showroom. While rivals offer conventional torque converter automatic gearboxes to appeal to a broader customer base globally, the French brand persists with its pernickety somewhat-auto option instead.

The majority of models in the Master range are front-wheel drive (FWD), but there are a couple of long-wheelbase rear-wheel drive (RWD) models available. None are all-wheel drive (AWD) or four-wheel drive (4WD).

You might be interested to note the weight specs for the Master range. There are too many variables to bore you with here, but the details on the L2H2 mid-wheelbase manual I tested, according to Renault Australia, are as follows: kerb weight - 1887kg; gross vehicle mass/GVM - 3510kg; payload - 1623kg; towing capacity - 750kg un-braked, 2500kg braked. The gross combination mass (GCM) is 6000kg.

Its a terrific engine, this - a twin-turbo 2.9-litre six-cylinder TFSI that will deliver 331kW at 5700rpm and 600Nm at 1900rpm, sending it thundering to all four wheels (because quattro) via an eight-speed tiptronic automatic.

That's enough, says Audi, to deliver a 0-100km/h sprint time of 3.9 seconds in the Coupe and the Sportback. Which is very, very quick.

There is no official combined fuel consumption claim figure stated by Renault, as the vehicle falls into the heavy commercial vehicle space. 

But I can tell you it’s pretty impressive for fuel economy. I saw an average of just 8.5 litres per 100 kilometres over more than 1000km of testing - more than half of which was with the van loaded up with hundreds of kilograms of load.

With a 100-litre diesel tank, you could theoretically get about 1150km to a fill, and that’s with a mix of loaded and unloaded driving. 

One thing, though: most vehicles have a graphic on their dashboard to show which side the filler neck is - you know, you see a fuel bowser and the filler is on the right, that means your vehicle’s filler is on the right. Not in the Master. It has a graphic with the filler on the right, but the actual fuel cap is on the left. And like most vans, you have to open the passenger door to fuel up.

Worried about AdBlue? No need - the engine used in the Master range is a Euro 5 unit, so there is a diesel particulate filter, but no urea after treatment setup to mention.

The RS5 Coupe will sip a claimed 9.4L/100km on the combined cycle, and emit a claimed 208g/km of Co2. It's fitted with a 58-litre fuel tank. 

The RS5 Coupe will the same 9.4L/100km, but emit 209g/km of Co2.

I did a mix of driving in the Master over the week I had it, including more than 600km of unladen driving. 

Why so many kays? I used it to move house, which meant I completed two “full” trips between Sydney’s inner-west and Cowra in the Central West of NSW, and two “empty” trips back to Sydney, as well.

I’ll get to how it drove with a load on board in the section below, but the unladen experience was pretty positive.

The engine and transmission are well teamed, and there’s a good amount of usable torque and very little lag to speak of. 

As with this entire generation of engines - a derivative engine in a different state of tune is used in the Nissan Navara - the refinement is mostly good until you reach higher in the rev range, where it can get a bit noisy and clattery. But the best work is done down low in the rev zone anyway. 

The manual shift action isn’t what I’d call “slinky”, more “clicky”. But it’s easy to row between gears as the action is light and the clutch isn’t too heavy, either. The gearing is generous, meaning you can saunter in sixth gear around 70km/h without the engine labouring too hard, and it’ll accelerate from there to freeway pace - provided you’re not going uphill.

There is a bit of ratio management required if you encounter a steep incline, but generally it’s a decently strong powertrain for its intended use - more on that below.

I’m always astounded about the steering and ride characteristics of vans of this size. Yes, it’s large, and yes, it can get blown around a little by crosswinds, and yes, you need to factor in the longish-wheelbase and larger turning circle that results from that… but it drives a lot smaller than it is.

The steering is direct and accurate, easy to judge at high or low speeds - which is great news when you’re parking (and there’s a good quality reversing camera and rear parking sensors, but you’ve just gotta remember the roof height, too).

The ride is adequate without a load on board, too. The independent McPherson strut front suspension copes well with changes in surface and bump control, though it can be a little bouncy at times. The rear suspension is a leaf-spring torsion beam setup, and it can be a little clumsy over road joins when unladen. 

It also brakes well, with solid and trustworthy response from the four-wheel disc brakes at all speeds.

With our time behind the wheel limited to the RS5 Coupe, we can only really report on how the two-door feels on the road, but given the prodigious power on offer, it's unlikely the addition of two doors is going to make the Sportback any slower. 

In short, the RS5 is thunderously fast, collecting speed with utter nonchalance thanks to this thick and endless-feeling supply of power unleashed whenever you plant your right foot.

It makes even the most ham-fisted attempts at cornering feel fast as lightning, with the power flow able to make up for every slow entry and exit by simply piling on pace between bends. 

But that's what you expect from an RS model, right? So perhaps more impressive is the RS5's ability to transform back into a relatively sedate urban cruiser when the red mist subsides. The suspension is firm, especially over rough road surfaces, and you do need to be a little careful with the accelerator to avoid that lurching feeling at every green light, but driven calmly, it doubles as a everyday car quite nicely.

Like in the RS4, we did find the gearbox felt a little quick to change at pace, shifting up or down at strange moments on the way into or out of corners, but you can reclaim control via the paddle shifters.

The safety story begins with six (Coupe) or eight (Sportback), and the usual suite of braking and traction aids, but then climbs into the tech-savvy stuff from there.

You get a 360-degree camera, adaptive cruise with stop and go, active lane assist, front and rear parking sensors, AEB with pedestrian detection, rear cross-traffic alert, an exit warning system, blind-spot monitoring and turn assist, which monitors oncoming traffic when making a turn.

It's a lot of gear, and it all contributes to Audi's five-star ANCAP safety rating, awarded in 2017 to the A5 range.

The Renault van range is covered by a warranty plan that isn’t as good as you’ll get from VW or Ford. That is, the Master (and Trafic and Kangoo below it) have a three-year/unlimited kilometre warranty cover, which is two years shorter than the best in the class.

Service intervals are business-friendly at 12 months/30,000km, with a capped-price service plan spanning the first three years/90,000km. The service price is $599 per visit, but keep in mind you will need to replace the coolant ($132) and brake fluid ($79) every 60,000km. There’s also an accessory belt replacement at 90,000km ($506).

If you service your van at Renault, you’ll also be eligible for up to four years of roadside assistance cover. From the showroom floor there is 12 months cover.

Concerned about issues, problems, recalls, questions, queries, complaints, or reliability issues? Check out our Renault Master problems page.

Audi vehicles are covered by a three-year, unlimited-kilometre warranty, which is feeling more than a little underdone when compared to some competitors.

Services are due every 12 months or 15,000kms, and Audi allows you to pre-pay your service costs for the first five years, at a cost of $3,050.