Smart 3 vs Lamborghini Aventador

What's the difference?

The #3 Brabus is very nearly one of the great bargains of 2024, with the sort of style, luxury, features, performance and grip you’d expect from the much-more-expensive GLA AMG 45. It’s that good.

What would make it great is a sunblock for the hot glass roof on a sunny day, Australian road tuning for the infuriating ADAS tech and a revised steering tune that didn’t make it feel inconsistent at times.

See past these, though, and the #3 Brabus exceeds expectations.

We’re glad Smart is back.

The Aventador isn't the best car you can buy for the money and truth be told, it isn't the best Lamborghini, which is a bit tough when you remember the only other car they make at the moment is the V10 Huracan. But it's all about the theatre as much as being a very capable supercar. 

I'm not a Lamborghini fanboy, but I completely get the Aventador. It's a because-we-can car, just like the Murcielago, Diablo and Countach before it. But unlike those cars, it's thoroughly modern and with the upgrades introduced to the S, it's faster, harder and enormously entertaining. 

As the last of a dying breed it delivers on everything a Lamborghini should - amazing looks, nutty price tag and an engine that excites not just driver and passenger but anyone with a heartbeat. It's by far the most charismatic car you can buy, no matter how many zeroes are on the cheque.

Photography by Rhys Vanderside

Smart says Mercedes designed the #3 and it shows.

In silhouette, or when glanced peripherally, it could be the love child of the A-Class and EQA. Only the friendly face betrays its non-Benz heritage.

Longer and wider than the #1, it is also 80mm lower – achieved via a lower ride height, flatter seats and a thinner floor.

Helped by a 35mm wheelbase stretch, it provides a nicely-balanced and proportioned crossover, with a decent drag coefficient of 0.27. The Brabus’ big wheels also fill out the arches very nicely.

Key length/width/height/wheelbase dimensions are 4400mm/1844mm/1556mm and 2785mm, respectively.

Unusually for a coupe/crossover mash-up, there’s slightly more room inside compared to the upright donor model.

Let’s take a longer look in there.

Asking if there's anything interesting about a Lamborghini design is kind of like asking if the sun is warm.

While there are some geese out there in the corners of the internet who think Audi has ruined Lamborghini styling, there is absolutely nothing shy about the Aventador. It's an incredible looking machine and, if I may say so, shouldn't be had in black because you miss a lot of the madder details.

This car is all about the experience.

It might look close to the deck in the photos, but however low you think it is, it's lower. The roofline barely makes it to the bottom of a Mazda CX-5's windows - you need your wits about you in this car because people just don't see you.

It is absolutely spectacular - people stop and point, one chap sprinted an easy 200 metres to take a photo of it in the Sydney CBD. Hello, if you're reading.

Inside is pretty tight indeed. It's amazing to think that a car 4.8 metres long (a Hyundai Santa Fe is 4.7 metres) struggles to contain two people over six feet tall. My six foot two photographer's head left an impression in the headlining. It's a tiny cabin. It's not a bad one though, it even has a cupholder on the rear bulkhead behind the seats.

The centre console is covered in Audi-based switchgear and is all the better for it, even if it is starting to look a bit old (those bits are from a pre-facelift B8 A4). The alloy gearshift paddles are fixed to the column and are brilliant to look at and touch, while the digital dashboard - which changes with the driving mode - is fantastic even if the reversing camera is awful.

On first approach, you ask yourself whether the #3 is a crossover or a small-to-medium SUV. The low roof and cool frameless doors certainly suggest the former, as do the comparatively small apertures.

That said, with the windows down, those sash-less doors help entry and egress.

Once ensconced inside a long if slightly narrow cabin, the #3 offers ample room for even the tallest adults up front, as well as a reasonably spacious back seat area, though you’d call that more of a '2+1' seater given the lack of girth for three. Most folk shouldn’t struggle to find the right driving position, either.

Presumably keen to impart a generic Mercedes vibe, the #3’s interior is somewhat reminiscent of a GLA’s, albeit from last decade – down to the pronounced T-shape dash featuring a trio of circular vents in the middle, a standalone screen above and (unconvincing) metal-look plastic trim below.

Understandably, like so much of the Brabus, this might appeal to aspiring A45 AMG owners, but it seems oddly dated, given the advanced electrification going on underneath.

Likewise, none of the minimalism cleverness of the ForTwo city-car original is referenced, even digitally. A lost opportunity, really. The OG Smart is an icon.

Meanwhile, ahead of the driver, a narrow digital strip looks twee and cheap, as if ripped from a Japanese 'Kei' car. It’s a strange design detail for a $71K SUV.

Still, the #3’s cabin layout is largely a success, and much of that is due to the first-class quality and finish. Unlike some of the aforementioned Benzes of the previous decade, squeaks and rattles are notable by their absence.

Depending on your body, the racy sports seats up front are either perfectly bolstered or far-too snug, but they provide a decent level of comfort and support. And they position you just right for controlling the centre display, which dominates all.

The 12.8-inch touchscreen feels slick, responsive and right-sized for the car. At first, it can also seem like info-overload and perhaps a bit cheesy with its animal animations, but real thought has gone into it to provide an extraordinary level of functionality.

Across the top are icons for access to media, sat-nav, apps and camera view settings, while the bottom row is for various climate and trip info. While somewhat logically presented, the charging-station list seemed outdated and/or at-times incorrect in our test car.

Mercifully, the Smart has a row of short-cut buttons for 'Vehicle Modes' (including turning off the infernal lane assist and one-pedal accelerator/braking), 'Driving Mode' ('Eco'/'Comfort'/'Sport'/'Brabus'), glass demisters, climate and display-off.

Annoyingly, the latter is closest to reach, revealing the #3’s left-hand drive market bias, as the driver must stretch across to access the first two (and more important) settings.

There are also several handy screen-activated modes including 'Entertainment Mode' that temporarily leaves the accessories and climate control on; 'Rest Mode' reclines the driver’s seat down flat and dims the interior lights; 'Energise Mode' is designed to pep you up; and 'Pet Mode' keeps a climate-controlled atmosphere while deactivating all buttons that a stray paw might press. Clever.

There’s lots more besides, and using the touchscreen is better in this than most other Chinese vehicles, but it remains fiddly and distracting.

It’s also worth pointing out that the fixed glass roof needs a blockout for Australia. A Smart spokesperson said an aftermarket cover is available, but as supplied to us, sitting under it over a run of hot days is almost unbearable without a hat. This is not good enough.

Thankfully, the other basics are all A-OK.

The climate system coped well the hot sun bearing down through the glass, plenty of useful storage makes up for the disappointingly shallow glove box, while the chilled centre console and massive door bins proved especially handy.

USB access is easy, the wireless Bluetooth/Apple CarPlay performed more consistently than in any recent test vehicle and the standard Beats audio brings brilliant sound.

Out back, most people under 180cm should at least avoid scraping that glass ceiling, and there’s a reasonable amount of room for boots and long knees if the front occupants are sympathetic, but you’d be stretching the truth calling the rear seat packaging SUV-esque.

On the other hand, it’s beautifully presented, boasts a comfy and supportive backrest/cushion for outboard passengers and even a do-able centre pew for shorter-distance riders.

And it provides every expected amenity, including air vents, USB-C ports, door storage, a folding centre armrest with cupholders, and overhead handles/lighting/coat hooks.

And while we’ve already complained about the glass roof, it floods the cabin with light, to make it seem airier than it is. Narrow front seats with a see-through slit further enhance this feeling.

Further back, the 370-litre boot is reasonably long and surprisingly deep thanks to a removable upper floor that’s good for stuffing the optional home charging cables in.

And, of course, it can be extended to 1160L via the split-fold backrests to provide extra loading practicality. And there’s even a small (15L) amount of storage under the bonnet.

Maximum towing capacity is 1600kg for a braked trailer.

Yes, well. There's not a lot of space because a V12 is not just big all on its own, all the ancillaries to support it rob a lot of the remaining space. Having said that, there's room in the front for soft bags with a 180-litre front boot, space for two people inside, a cupholder and a glove box.

And the doors open up into the sky rather than out like a normal car's. Who cares if it's impractical, it's hardly something that's going to stop someone buying one.

As with any Italian supercar, the price-to-feature ratio is rather higher than your average humdrum hatchback. A 'naked' Aventador S starts at a horse-spooking $789,425 and basically has no direct competition. Ferrari's F12 is front-mid engined and any other V12 is either a decidedly different Rolls Royce-type machine or super-expensive niche manufacturer (yes, niche compared to Lamborghini) like Pagani. They're a rare very breed, Lambo knows it, and here we are a sneeze-on-the-spec sheet away from $800,000.

So you have to keep two things in mind when rating a car's value for money at this level. The first is that there isn't any real rival in a pure sense, and if there was, it would be the same price and have the same spec. That's not excusing it, by the way, it's an explanation.

Anyway.

For your eight hundy you get 20-inch front wheels and 21-inch rears, climate control, cruise control, 7.0-inch screen (backed by an older version of Audi's MMI), four-speaker stereo with Bluetooth and USB, car cover, bi-xenon headlights, carbon ceramic brakes, electric seats, windows and mirrors, leather trim, sat nav, keyless entry and start, four-wheel steering, leather trim, digital dashboard, power folding and heated mirrors, active rear wing and active suspension.

The number of out-of-the-box options is staggering and if you're keen to really get on it, you can commission your own options when it comes to trim and paint and wheels. Let's just say that as far as the interior went, our car had almost $29,000 of Alcantara, steering wheel and yellow. The telemetry system, heated seats, some extra branding and front and reversing camera (uh-huh) added up to $24,000, the cameras almost half that total.

With all the bits and bobs, the test car we had was a sobering $910,825 before on-roads.

The #3 Brabus employs one permanent magnet synchronous electric motor per axle, for dual-motor, all-wheel drive performance via a single-speed ‘transmission’. 

They provide plenty of poke, totalling 315kW of power (115kW front, 200kW rear) and 543Nm of torque (200Nm front, 343Nm rear).

Tipping the scales at 1910kg, this means the Brabus delivers an impressive power-to-weight ratio of 165kW/tonne – enough for it to scoot from zero to 100km/h in 3.7 seconds, on the way to a 180km/h top speed.

To put those figures in perspective, the similarly-priced VW Golf R only manages 156kW/tonne and 4.8sec to 100.

The Aventador S is powered by Automobili Lamborghini's 6.5-litre V12. You know it's a V12 because there's a plate on top of the engine (which you can see through the optional glass cover) that says so, and handily, tells you the cylinder firing order. That's a neat touch.

Buried deep in the middle of the car, this monster engine develops an astonishing 544kW (30kW up on the standard Aventador) and 690Nm. Its dry sump means the engine sits lower in the car. The gearbox is slung across the back between the rear wheels - the rear pushrod suspension actually sits on top of and across the gearbox - and is apparently brand new.

The transmission is known as an ISR (Independent Shift Rod) and has seven forward speeds and still just the one clutch. Power goes through all four wheels to the road, but it's clear the rears get the lion's share.

The 0-100km/h time is the same as the standard car, which kind of tells you that 2.9 seconds is about as quick as you can go on road tyres when you don't have four electric motors with torque from zero rpm.

All #3s headed to Australia for now are fitted with the larger of the two battery packs available – a 66kWh lithium nickel cobalt manganese (NCM) item.

In the Brabus, it is rated to average up to 415km of WLTP-certified range, which is between 20-40km shy of the mid-spec Premium version.

Smart says the WLTP average energy consumption is 17.7kWh/100km. Our 3000km-old test car’s trip computer displayed a life-cycle average of 14.6kWh/100km since delivery.

During our week with the Brabus, we managed an average of 19.4kWh/100km, and that was over a 95km period of sustained highway driving at 114km/h with cruise control on and climate control set at 18 degrees (to combat the radiant heat from that glass roof).

With a big 22kW AC charger and 150kW DC charger capability, the former will replenish that 66kWh battery in about 32 hours using a home plug or 10 hours with an optional 7.0kW Wallbox, while the latter will need just over an hour from 10-80 per cent with a common 50kW DC charger.

Hilariously, the official figure is 16.9L/100km. I doubled it without trying. Simple as that. If you're buying this car thinking it will be easy on the juice, you're insane.

Cheeringly, Lambo has at least tried, the V12 going silent when you sit at the lights, the best thing being the way it bursts back into life when you lift off the brake.

If you have the time available, it takes 90 litres of premium unleaded to fill the tank.

Whatever notions ‘Smart’ might evoke, the #3 Brabus obliterates them. This is no buzzy little city-car runabout, but a surprisingly mature and athletic driving machine. This is a seriously rapid performer.

A trio of driving modes give you a hint of what you’re in for. Eco is lightness and fluff. Not very Brabus, but smooth and calm enough for relaxed commuting. And it’s far from slow, scooting off the line with zip and zest. Enough for most.

Comfort is actually a good all-round setting to be in, with an eager yet controlled level of performance. Strong acceleration and instant accelerator reaction show you mean business – if you’re in the mood. Still civilised and serene otherwise.

Sport ups the ante, as you’d expect, providing a decent whack of speed and immediate response. Actually, this is enough to keep up with most sports car costing thrice the price, while maintaining the driver-assist safety net. Fun without the fear.

Brabus mode is off-the-leash fury, turning the #3 into a convincing AMG alternative thanks to blistering thrust and a powerful punch across the spectrum. More (artificial) noise, more drama, more speed, more fireworks. The 'Launch Control' pins you to your seatback.

Yet even in the latter setting, the Smart behaves with a maturity beyond the brand’s reputation, capable of quick corners with exceptional (AWD-enhanced) body control and roadholding grip, without a punishing ride.

Underneath, a unique suspension tune for the MacPherson-style struts up front and multi-link rear end keep the Brabus hunkered down more effectively at speed.

And even in pouring rain, there are no complaints about the Brabus’ assured and confident handling. Yes, the suspension is firm, but it’s far from uncomfortable, so, an acceptable trade-off.

Plus, though not strictly one-pedal driving, the regenerative braking pressure is enough for slowing down and speeding up in the ebb and flow of traffic in its strongest mode.

Where we’re less happy is in the #3’s steering. It brings three weight modes to the table – but only two are useful, 'Light' and 'Standard'. Super-easy yet not totally devoid of substance, Light is great for around town and general commuting.

But when you lean on it at speed, the steering, whilst crisp and reactive, is not always linear in feel or motion, especially when accelerating at the same time, as you might when coming out of a fast corner.

Depending on how hard you are on the accelerator, there can be a visible step when turned from the straight ahead that can be quite disconcerting. It’s a bit like when slurping in a lumpy bit in a smoothie.

So, what about 'Sport' mode? Here, the steering is just as described above, but with added weight and not much more. Not worth it. Best is Standard mode.

Another disappointment is the advanced driver-assist safety (ADAS) tech’s state of tune. It’s in a state, literally.

The intrusive and apparently non-permanently switch-off-able lane-keep systems, especially, end up resisting what the driver intends, and even fight to steer the car where it thinks it needs to be. This is frustrating and potentially dangerous.

It’s been reported that Geely, and not Mercedes, undertook the development of these ADAS systems. We’re getting sick of (mostly Chinese) manufacturers rolling the arm over and imposing this sort of nannying and ultimately counter-intuitive driving interference tech.

This needs to be fixed. It stops the #3 Brabus from being a great performance bargain.

In Strada or Street mode, awful. Everything is slow and doughy, particularly the gearshift which goes looking for a gear like dog looking for a stick you didn't throw, but instead hid behind your back. The low-speed ride is nothing less than terrible, fidgeting over every single lump and bump and is only slightly more appealing than being dragged along behind.

The gearbox is really the worst bit about it. Automotive history is littered with cars that laboured along with a single clutch semi-auto: Alfa Romeo 156, BMW's E60 M5 and today the Citroen Cactus is stuck with just such a dud transmission.

Like that old M5, however, there's a trick to making the gearbox work for you - show absolutely no mercy.

Switch the selector up to Sport, get off the highway or major arterial road and head for the hills. Or better still, a clear race track. Then the Aventador goes from a pain in the rear to a glorious, roaring, completely unhinged and unhinging battle cruiser. This car is all about the experience, from the second you lay eyes on it to the moment you put it to bed.

This isn't an everyday supercar and it's absurd to think Lamborghini thinks it is.

First up, there's the obvious entry point with those wacky doors. While it's tricky to get in, if you're under six feet and reasonably mobile, stick your backside in, keep your head down and you're in. If you've been clever, you've specified the glass engine cover so you can see out the back but the huge wing mirrors are surprisingly effective.

Has someone thoughtlessly parked the car in a tight spot? No trouble, the four wheel steer makes the car absurdly manoeuvrable given its extravagant length and width.

As we've already established, it's not much fun at low speeds, waiting until about 70km/h before things start to make a bit more sense. This isn't an everyday supercar and it's absurd to think Lamborghini thinks it is. It just isn't.

The old Aventador was not the most capable of machines but made up for it with its overall belligerence. The new S takes that aggro and dials it up. When you move the drive mode to Sport you are basically unleashing hell. You can pretend to be super-masculine and switch to Corsa (race) mode, but it's all about getting the car straight and getting you around the track in the most efficient way possible. Sport is where it's at if you want to have fun.

The Aventador is about being seen, but not before you've been heard - from two postcodes away. It really is utterly glorious when you have a stretch of road to yourself. The V12 revs furiously to its 8400rpm redline and the wallop of the upshift is accompanied with a fantastic bark and a burst of blue flame. And these aren't the best bits.

Approach a corner, stomp on the colossal carbon ceramic brakes and the exhaust erupts in a combination of bangs and pops and growls that puts a smile on even the most hardened car-hater's face. The fact it steers into corners with just a demure roll of the wrist, aided and abetted by that funky four-wheel steering system. It's just brilliant, addictive and truth be told, it gets under your skin.

The Aventador doesn't have an ANCAP safety rating but the carbon chassis also comes with four airbags, ABS, stability and traction controls.

The #3 offers a (decidedly-average) five-year or (disappointing) 130,000km warranty, whichever comes first. There is also roadside assistance available for free during this period.

Given other EV manufacturers are going seven and even 10 years in the case of MG, with most including unlimited kilometres, this could be better.

Scheduled maintenance is every 12 months or every 20,000km.

Smart provides a pre-paid four-year/80,000km service plan for $3120, which comes to $780 annually. This seems quite expensive for an EV, even a premium one.

In an unexpected twist, you'll get a three-year/100,000km warranty and the option to increase to four years ($11,600!) or five years ($22,200!)(!). Having recovered from typing that, given the cost of something going wrong, that's probably money well-spent.