Ssangyong Tivoli vs LDV D90

What's the difference?

I was asked the critical question while I had the Tivoli ELX on test – “Do you think people will buy this car?” After some time in thought, my answer was – “Not many… yet.”

Those who can look past the brand perceptions are getting an SUV which is damn near as good as anything on the market – and likely cheaper to run.

To that, you can say a lot of things: If only it cost slightly less. If only its rear was better looking. If only it had a five-star safety rating.

But here it is – the fact that the Tivoli can even hold a candle to its slick, finely tuned competition says a lot. The Double Dragon is back, and if it can afford to stick around for a while, perhaps it will stand a chance of putting the big players on notice.

Looking for a cheap, powerful diesel SUV with huge cabin space and a humane third row for adults? The D90 is a really sound offering, especially considering the price of entry for this top-spec diesel which should resonate with Aussies a bit better than the petrol version.

It has plenty of issues that could be ironed out, but they’re all so small and not sale-breaking it’s almost annoying how much better the D90 could be with just a little work. Rivals should be looking over their shoulder for what comes next.

SsangYong is hardly a brand known for its consistent or good-looking design. In the past, the brand has floundered between the squared-off lines of the Musso and the unresolved bulbous curves of the last-gen Korando.

The brand’s re-launch has finally brought it up to speed, with every car across its range featuring a consistent design language. It’s improved out of sight, but still isn’t without its flaws.

Up front, there’s an angry-looking, squared-off horizontally slotted grille, with angles galore wrapping around the small SUV’s sides.

The angles continue up the A-pillar and across the roof for a squared-off, European-influenced roofline.

Then, around the back things get… strange. A pronounced curvy ridge makes its way over the rear wheels and into a rounded-out boot. It seems at odds with the angular rear glass and lower garnish.

There’s just way too much going on around the back; it’s overly styled. The chintzy chrome finish around the lower reflectors doesn’t help, nor do the big round SsangYong badge and bold ‘T I V O L I’ typeface.

The 16-inch alloys on the EX and ELX grade are a simple 10-spoke matte-silver. They’re nothing special, but at least they're easy to clean.

Inside, things are also mixed. There’s plenty of good and bad. The seats are clad in a robust cloth with plenty of sponge for comfort, and there are sensibly placed soft surfaces in the doors and on the centre console for your elbows.

The dash has an aesthetically pleasing symmetrical theme to it and is finished mostly in decent plastics. The 7.0-inch media screen is pretty good, too, but the rest of the centre stack is a bit nasty and old fashioned.

There’s the mix of gloss plastic and silver surfaces, a giant climate control dial and the so-so buttons that litter its surface. It reminds me of Korean car designs past, like the Holden (Daewoo) Captiva and generations-old Hyundais. Credit where credit is due, though - it all feels much better built.

I’m actually a big fan of the Tivoli’s steering wheel, it has a ridged, chunky shape and is finished in a pleasing artificial-leather material. The function stalks behind it are solid, with rotary dials on them to control lights and wipers. As the primary touch-points for the driver it’s neat that they have a unique, SsangYong personality to them.

Some colleagues I’ve spoken to like the way the D90 looks. To me, it looks like someone gene-spliced a Hyundai Tucson with a SsangYong Rexton in a lab, then grew it in a stew of peptides and this was the result.

What can’t really be communicated in images is how truly massive the D90 is. At over five metres long, two metres wide and almost two metres tall, the D90 is certifiably huge. Given that’s the case then, it’s admittedly almost admirable that only the side profile makes this thing look a little goofy.

I think LDV has done a pretty good job on the front, and the rear is simple but well resolved for a vehicle that rides on a ladder chassis (just take a look at the Pajero Sport for how ladder-chassis rear designs can get… controversial…).

The wheels, garnishes, and LED headlights are all tastefully applied. It’s not ugly… just confronting… size-wise.

Inside shares some familiar characteristics with sister-brand MG. Look from a distance and it’s all quite nice, get in too close and you’ll see where the corners have been cut.

The first thing I don’t like about the interior is the materials. Apart from the wheel they are all pretty cheap and nasty. It’s a sea of hollow plastics and mixed trims. The faux-wood pattern, which is clearly just a print on a plastic resin is particularly gnarly. Reminds me of some Japanese cars from 20 years ago. It might work for the Chinese audience, but that’s not where the market is in Australia.

On the other hand, you could say “well, what do you expect at this price?” and that is true. Everything is here and works, just don’t expect the D90 to be playing alongside the established players when it comes to fit, finish, or material quality.

The huge screen works to finish the dash, but that darned software is so ugly you’ll wish it didn’t. At least all the major touch-points are ergonomically accessible.

The Tivoli might be a small SUV but it has a cavernous cabin. It’s seriously impressive and rivals some of the best players in this segment, like the Honda HR-V.

The front seat offers huge amounts of headroom, leagues of legroom, great space for your arms on either side and a fully telescopically adjustable steering wheel.

Storage is comprised of a shallow trench under the climate-control stack, decently sized cupholders in the centre console and doors, as well as a deep console box and a glovebox, which seems to disappear forever into the dash.

There’s also a rather odd trench cut out of the dash above the console box. It’s ridged and has a rubbery surface but seems useless for storing things, which will simply topple out when you accelerate.

As previously mentioned, there are comfortable surfaces for resting your elbows on for front occupants.

Room for back-seat dwellers is also excellent, with awesome legroom for the segment and leagues of airspace even for taller folk. There are the same padded elbow-rests in the doors and deep cupholders, but no air-conditioning vents or USB ports.

There are also weird elastic ropes on the back of the front seats for storing things (with mixed success) and a pull-down armrest.

The boot is rated at 423-litres (VDA), which is deceptively large (size-wise not far off the HR-V’s 437-litre space). The problem here is the shape of the boot itself. It’s deep from the floor to the retractable screen, and SsangYong says it will hold three golf bags, but it’s the narrow width and length which limit  its potential.

I found it awkward to move some odd-shaped objects, like a heater and some boxes, and the high entry-point to the bootlid makes things a little difficult when moving heavier items.

Our ELX has significantly more room thanks to a space-saver spare under the boot floor. The Ultimate, which sits above has a full-size spare, further limiting boot space.

There are the same odd elastic ropes in the edges of the boot wall for smaller loose objects or cables.

The D90 is as massive on the inside as it is on the outside. I’m talking better space than a minivan, and nothing says that more than the humane third row. At 182cm tall, I not only fit in the rearmost two seats, but I can do so in as much comfort as any other row. It’s staggering. There’s actual airspace for my knees and head back there.

The second row is massive and on rails too, so you can extend the amount of room available to third-rowers – and there’s so much room in the second row, you’ll have space even with the seats moved forward.

My only criticism here is that the giant rear door is far enough forward to make clambering into the third row a little tricky. Once you’re there though there are really no complaints.

The boot is even usable with the third row deployed, with a claimed 343L of space. That should be hatchback-sized, but the measurement is a little deceptive as the space is tall but shallow, meaning it will only allow you to place smaller bags (a few, if you can stack them) with the remaining space.

The boot is otherwise cavernous with a wild 1350L available with the third row stowed flat, or 2382L with the second row stowed. In this configuration, with the front passenger seat slid forward to its furthest position, I was even able to get a 2.4-metre-long benchtop in the back. Truly impressive.

Without buying an actual commercial van then, this could be the cheapest way into such room, especially in a 4x4 bi-turbo diesel SUV. No arguing with that.

Second-row occupants get their own climate control module, USB ports and even a full-sized household power outlet, with more legroom than you could possibly need. My only complaint was that the seat trim seemed a little flat and cheap.

Front occupants get large cupholders in the centre console, a deep armrest box (with no connectivity in it, just a randomly placed DPF cycle switch), pockets in the doors, and an awkward binnacle under the climate controls that houses the single available USB port. My phone didn’t fit in there.

No complaints about leg and headroom in the front either, though, with plenty of adjustability to boot. The driver’s seat offers a commanding view of the road, although it can be a little unsettling to be so far off the ground in corners… more on that in the driving section.

On paper, the seven-seat D90 is immediately quite appealing. At $47,990, it is literally a lot of car for the money. This latest iteration, the bi-turbo diesel, is only available in Executive trim at this price, but you can pinch pennies further by choosing one of the lesser petrol turbo variants.

Regardless, and much like its MG sister brand, LDV is good at making sure that essential spec boxes are ticked.

This includes screens galore as is popular in the Chinese market, including a massive 12-inch multimedia screen and 8.0-inch digital dash.

A screen is only as good as the software that runs on it though, and let me tell you, the D90’s software is not good. A quick flick through the weirdly small menu reveals barebones functionality, terrible resolution and response time, as well as possibly the worst execution of Apple CarPlay I’ve ever seen.

I mean, it doesn’t even use all of that screen real estate! Not only that, but in a recent overhaul to CarPlay, Apple released software to utilise wider displays – so the car’s own software must simply be incapable of supporting it. Inputs also proved laggy, and I had to repeat myself on multiple occasions to get any use out of Siri. Unlike every other car I’ve used, the software in the D90 wouldn’t return to the radio after you hang up or stop talking to Siri. Frustrating.

I’d rather have a far smaller display that actually worked well. The semi-digital dash was functional, although barely did anything that a small dot-matrix display isn’t capable of and had one screen which for my entire week said ‘loading’. I’m still not sure what it was meant to do…

At least it supports Apple CarPlay at all, which is more than could have been said for segment hero, the Toyota LandCruiser.

The D90 does tick some necessary items that are quite good. LED headlights are standard, as are leather seats with eight-way power adjust for the driver, a heated multi-function steering wheel, 19-inch alloy wheels (which still somehow look small on this huge thing), three-zone climate control, eight-speaker audio system, electric tailgate, keyless entry with push-start ignition, a reversing camera, front and rear parking sensors, tyre-pressure monitoring, as well as a fairly substantial safety suite which we’ll explore later in this review.

Great on paper then, the bi-turbo diesel engine is a boon, as is the fact that the D90 rides on a ladder chassis with an electronically-controlled low-range terrain mode for the transmission, too.

You’d expect to pay more – even from Korean and Japanese rivals for this much specification. No matter which way you cut it, the D90 is good value.

Our Tivoli is powered by a 1.6-litre four-cylinder turbo diesel engine producing 84kW and 300Nm of torque.

That seems a little low on the power front compared to petrol competitors, but the strong torque figure available from an almost instantaneous 1500rpm gives this engine a solid amount of get up and go.

If you aren’t opposed to diesel, I would strongly suggest this engine over its underpowered 1.6-litre petrol equivalent, as it has almost twice the available torque.

It might seem risky for SsangYong to be offering diesel in a segment where the fuel type is unpopular, but it makes sense from a global supply point of view, as diesel is largely the fuel of choice in the Tivoli’s home country of South Korea.

The ELX is front-wheel drive and can only be had with a six-speed torque converter auto transmission manufactured by Aisin.

The D90 was initially offered in Australia with a 2.0-litre turbo petrol four-cylinder, but this 2.0-litre bi-turbo diesel makes much more sense, both for towing and long-distance touring.

It’s a four-cylinder offering a healthy 160kW/480Nm. You’ll note that’s pretty close to Ford’s similar 2.0-litre bi-turbo diesel, which is currently offered in the Everest…

The diesel also gets its own transmission, an eight-speed torque converter automatic with computer-controlled ‘Terrain Selection 4WD’.

This gives the D90 diesel a max towing capacity of 3100kg braked (or 750kg unbraked) with a max payload of 730kg.

Over my week of mainly urban driving I scored a fuel-consumption figure of 7.8L/100km against a claimed urban figure of 7.4L/100km which is not too bad, but also not stellar.

The official claimed/combined usage figure is at a bold-sounding 5.5L/100km.

The Tivoli has a 47-litre fuel tank.

The D90 diesel is said to consume 9.1L/100km of diesel on the combined cycle, but ours didn’t score near that with a figure of 12.9L/100km after a week of what I’d consider “combined” testing.

The D90 a big unit, so that number doesn’t seem outrageous, it’s just nowhere near the claim… All D90s have 75-litre fuel tanks.

We never recommend that you drive blindfolded, but if you could and you drove the Tivoli, I honestly believe you’d have trouble telling it apart from any other small SUV on sale today. 

The diesel engine feels strong from the get-go and pushes the 1390kg SUV along with a reasonable urgency. It’s no performance drivetrain, but it's as good as, if not better than, most of the petrol competitors.

The six-speed torque converter auto is mostly great around town but is old-school in that you can definitely feel each ratio. It also had the unfortunate habit of occasionally grabbing the wrong gear.

I once caught it out altogether under heavy acceleration and it spent a whole second fishing for the ratio it wanted. It’s still better than a continuously variable transmission (CVT) for driver engagement, though.

Steering is on the light side but is direct and offers decent feedback. The ELX offers three steering modes - 'Comfort', 'Normal', and 'Sport', which artificially alter the weight behind the steering. 'Normal' is by far the best.

The suspension was also notably impressive. Fellow Korean brands, Hyundai and Kia, have harked on for a long time about local tuning efforts, but I found the Tivoli’s suspension tune almost as good. It’s a slightly more spongey, comfort-focused tune, but I was impressed at how composed it felt in the corners.

The ELX has a cheap torsion-bar rear suspension setup, which could only really be noticed over rough road conditions.

Behind the wheel, the Tivoli was also surprisingly quiet at lower speeds. This makes for a nice, quiet drive around town, despite the diesel engine, but at speeds above 80km/h and engine rpms above 3000 the noise became significantly worse.

I’d say the Tivoli drives just as well as most Hyundais and Kias from just a few years ago. There’s room for improvement in the little details, but for the brand’s first effort since its international re-boot, it does a darned good job.

The D90 is easier to drive than it looks… to a degree…

It lacks some polish of its more established rivals, which results in a drive experience that isn’t bad, but occasionally frustrating.

The ride somehow manages to be soft and harsh at the same time. It undulates over larger bumps, while transmitting the worst parts of smaller, sharper ones to the cabin. It speaks to a lack of calibration between the suspension and dampers.

That having been said, the D90 masks its ladder chassis underpinnings well, with little of that typical body-on-frame jiggle that some rivals still struggle with.

The drivetrain is good, but a little unruly. As you’d imagine from the figures, there’s more than enough power on tap, but the transmission tends to have a mind of its own.

It will occasionally lurch between gears, pick the wrong gear, and off-the-line will sometimes be delayed before shunting the D90’s bulk forward with a sudden mountain of torque. It doesn’t sound particularly good either, with the diesel surging through the rev range with industrial crudeness.

By the time the D90 has reached cruising speed though, there’s really not much to complain about, with the D90 milling along with plenty of power in reserve for overtaking. The view of the road is commanding, but you really feel the D90’s high centre of gravity in the corners and under heavy braking. The physics of such a large object are undeniable.

I have to say, LDV has done a fantastic job of the D90’s steering, with a quick, light feel that betrays the SUV’s size. It manages to stray on the right side of lightness though, not being so disconnected that you lose a feeling of where the wheels are pointing. No mean feat in something this shape.

Overall then, the D90 isn’t bad to drive and has some genuinely great characteristics, it just also has a litany of small issues that get in the way of it being truly competitive with segment leaders.

The LDV D90 carries a maximum five-star ANCAP safety rating as of 2017, and has a fairly comprehensive active safety suite.

Included on the diesel is auto emergency braking (AEB) with front collision warning, lane-departure warning, blind-spot monitoring, driver-attention alert, traffic-sign recognition, and adaptive cruise control.

Not bad for the price, and nice that there’s nothing optional. Expected items include electronic traction, stability, and brake controls, as well as six airbags.

The curtain airbags do extend to the third row, and there’s the bonus of a reversing camera and a tyre-pressure-monitoring system.

There is a full-size steel spare under the boot floor, and the D90 also gets dual ISOFIX and three top-tether child-seat mounting points.

The SsangYong Tivoli now leads the small SUV segment with a seven-year/unlimited-kilometre warranty, which is miles ahead of the acceptable industry standard of five years/unlimited kilometres offered by most competitors.

Service pricing comes in at a completely fixed and impressive-for-a-diesel $322 per yearly 15,000km service for the life of the warranty.

Extra service items are tidily laid out in a chart breaking down parts cost, labour, and total price, with the most notably expensive item being transmission fluid ($577), which, at worst, is recommended to be changed at 100,000km.

From this we can tell SsangYong intends to target Kia’s audience and use this part of the business to categorically beat its competition.

LDV covers the D90 with a five-year/130,000km warranty, which is not bad… but falls behind sister brand MG, which offers seven years/unlimited kilometres. At the very least it would be nice to have the unlimited kilometre promise.

Roadside assist is included for the duration of that warranty, but there’s no capped price servicing offered through LDV. The brand gave us indicative pricing of $513.74, $667.15, and $652.64 for the first three annual services. An initial six-monthly 5000km checkup is free.

All D90s need to be serviced once every 12 months or 15,000km, whichever occurs first.