Suzuki Fronx vs Kia Carnival

What's the difference?

If you’re considering a small car, particularly if an SUV is the goal, a Suzuki should in most cases be on the shopping list. Back-to-basics motoring is key to the brand’s identity. Its most popular model is a tiny ladder-frame 4X4, for example. Hi Jimny.

The Fronx doesn’t break new ground in any practical sense, but it does come in with a decent price and list of features that should sway plenty of small-car fans in the showroom.

It’s decent to look at, comfortable for the segment, and easy to get used to and drive. The numerical rating on this review betrays just how likeable the car is.

It’s not extremely refined and it starts to lose its dynamic shine on rough roads, but in an urban setting the Fronx should excel.

Note: CarsGuide attended this event as a guest of the manufacturer, with meals provided.

Ok, here's the rub. Everything you just read could well be pointless. You like the Carnival. In fact, it sometimes makes up close to 90 per cent of the sales in its segment, and outsells all of its competitors combined.

So whether I like it or not, I suspect you'll be buying one anyway.

But I can say this - the new Carnival improves the formula right across the board. Well, everything except for price.

‘Fronx’ as a name doesn’t exactly scream ‘cute’, but the little SUV has a pretty classically Suzuki design. This is not a complaint at all.

The Fronx is 3995mm long, 1765mm wide and 1550mm tall, but despite its diminutive dimensions the brand has opted to lean into a ‘coupe’ style with a sloping roofline that creates a relatively sporty look, especially for something with a two-digit power figure.

So while some of Suzuki’s designs have been divisive in Australia (Ignis, anyone?) the Fronx takes a slightly more conservative approach by leaning into more design trends than just the coupe-back SUV shape. 

For example, its tail-lights span the width of the tailgate rather than simply flanking the boot as was standard for decades.

The LED daytime running lights at the front are also arranged in a slim, high-up position with a set of headlights below.

Inside is arguably more conservative than out, as the Fronx goes with a fairly standard formula in terms of its layout, with few premium materials (the synthetic leather on the seats feels cheap for example) or adventurous design elements to be found.

But that’s not such a bad thing.

Surely the greatest trick the Carnival pulls off, and it does so convincingly, is that it manages to make something so quintessentially uncool, the people-mover, and make it look good. Somehow sporty, even.

I like the Carnival's big, bold and blacked-out front end of the GT-Line, and with its two-tone 19-inch alloys, wide stance and low ride height, it looks almost like some mad attempt at a JDM tune car, rather than a sensible people mover.

Elsewhere, the boxy profile, the sharp body creases and the third-row compartment that kind of juts over the rear tyres like a house that's been extended all somehow work, and give the Carnival far more street cred than you might expect.

Inside, we spent time only in the flagship GT-Line and its GT-Line Lite sibling, and both present as calming, comfortable spaces, and Kia's minimalist approach to combining the climate and audio controls into a single strip (it's functionality can be changed by pushing a button) helps keep the cabin fuss free.

The tech in the top-spec models feels modern and on-point, too, and the materials are all nice under the touch. Be warned though, the cabin plastics get progressively worse the further back you sit, and the third row is cocooned by hard and scratchy plastics.

Because for all the conservative, even outdated, styling in the cabin, the fact is it’ll be refreshingly familiar to someone who’s getting out of a car from perhaps even before the year 2000.

Suzuki’s place at the budget end of the new-car market means its customers are likely either quite young and buying their first new car, or relatively old and looking for a cheap, rarely used runabout as the ‘last car’.

For the former, a lack of techy distractions is paramount. For the latter, ease of use wins over cutting-edge tech in most cases. Which is why it’s probably okay that the Fronx’s multimedia touchscreen and software wouldn’t feel out of place almost a decade ago.

It can be a tad fiddly to use at speed, but it’s still more straightforward than the ‘iPad-like’ systems Tesla has made popular, and there are physical controls for important functions like climate control.

There’s also a row of ever-present haptic buttons for volume controls and navigation shortcuts.

The ergonomics of the interior are quite basic, but there are no red flags in terms of visibility, reach, or placement. 

The head-up display is a bonus, but the physical dials on the dash rather than a digital driver display are clear enough, despite again feeling nabbed from a time before head-up displays even existed. 

Space for the front passengers is decent, it’s not cavernous but it’s far from cramped. Elbow rests and seating positions allow for a relaxed ride.

The back seat is a slightly less comfortable place, but at 178cm I can sit behind my own seating position without my knees touching the seat in front, and my head has just enough space above to accommodate the top of a mullet.

Behind that, luggage capacity in the boot is 304 litres, or 605 litres with the rear 60/40 split seats folded.

There’s also no space-saver spare tyre, just a repair kit as standard.

The Carnival measures 5115mm in length, 1995mm in width and 1775mm in height, and it rides on a sizeable 3092mm wheelbase. 

And those mini-van dimensions have a predictably positive impact on luggage space, with room growing from 627 litres with all seating rows in place, to a massive 2827 litres with the third row stowed.

The key practicality perk here, though, is space, and lots of it. At 175cm, there was ample room for me in the middle row, and you can configure the cabin to your liking, too. You can slide the row on rails, for example, to prioritise leg room where you need it, and the middle seat folds down to reveal cupholders in a kind of hard plastic travel tray.

But even in the third row I could easily get comfortable, though head room begins to get a little tighter. There are cupholders and USB connection points, too, and I can honestly say you could send full-size humans back there and not feel overly guilty about it.

The Carnival will tow 2000kgs braked, too.

Bad news first. The price is higher this time around, right across the five-trim line-up, with the prices up between around $2600 and $5300, depending on which trim level you’re shopping for.

Prices start at $50,150 for the entry-level S petrol, and climb to $72,910 for the top-spec GT-Line diesel. There’s also a GT-Line Hybrid, which tops the group at $76,210, but it’s not here yet, so we’ll cross that electrified bridge when we get to it and stick with the ICE range for now.

The range opens with the S ($50,150 petrol, $52,380 diesel), which scores 17-inch alloys, LED headlights and DRLs, heated mirrors, cloth seats, an electronic parking brake, and a smart key with push-button start, which is new for this update.

On the tech front, there is a new integrated 4.0-inch driver display, and a new 12.3-inch central screen with Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, linking with an eight-speaker sound system, now with a surround-sound function.

Stepping up to the Sport ($56,050 petrol, $58,280 diesel) adds 18-inch alloys, rear LED combination lamps, a leather steering wheel and shifter, and dual-zone climate up front with single-zone temperature control in the second row. New for this update is a wireless charging pad and artificial leather seats. 

Next is the Sport+ ($62,380 petrol, $64,610 diesel), which gets a whole host of new safety equipment, which we will come back to in a moment, along with a powered tailgate, automatic sliding doors and auto windows, and heated seats in the first and second rows. It also ups the tech, with twin 12.3-inch screens taking care of multimedia and driving info duties.

Then comes the GT-Line Lite ($66,350 petrol, $68,580 diesel), which is fitted with bigger 19-inch alloy wheels, scores LED interior lighting, gets a dual-pane auto sunroof and some chrome embellishments on the exterior. The trade-off, though is that the powered windows are now for the driver only, as is the powered front seat.

Finally, there’s the flagship GT-Line ($70,680 petrol, $72,910 diesel), which nabs dual-projection headlights, a heated steering wheel, a 12-speaker BOSE sound system, ventilated seats up front, a big head-up display and a digital rear-view mirror, along with a slightly better interior treatment and the return of the auto window and powered seat to the passenger side of the car.

The Fronx is powered by a 1.5-litre four-cylinder engine with mild-hybrid assistance, driving the front wheels via a six-speed automatic transmission. 

Its outputs are quoted at 76kW and 137Nm, not exactly high-grade stuff and part of the reason the Fronx feels like it takes more than 10 seconds to hit 100km/h.

There are two ICE options on the table here. The first is what I reckon is the lesser of the two, a 3.5-litre petrol V6, producing a rev-happy 216kW and 355Nm.

The better option, I think, is the 2.2-litre, four-cylinder diesel, which makes 148kW and 440Nm, and just suits the nature of the car a little better.

Both pair with an eight-speed automatic, and send their power to the front tyres.

Suzuki claims fuel consumption at 4.9L/100km. With its 37-litre fuel tank, the Fronx should be able to manage more than 600km on a single tank, though theoretically its maximum range given its claimed fuel efficiency is 755km.

The petrol engine will sip a claimed 9.6 litres per hundred kilometres on the combined cycle, and produce 220g per kilometre of C02. The diesel lowers both those numbers, to 6.5 litres and 170 grams.

Both models are fitted with a 72-litre fuel tank, which means you’ll be sailing well north of $100 to fill one up.

How you plan to use the Fronx will make a big difference in whether what you’re about to read is a good thing or not. 

The Fronx is a light SUV for a start, so expecting brilliant handling, effortless acceleration and a dead-quiet cabin is going to mean you’re disappointed.

But if you want something easy, engaging and fun, the Fronx might work for you.

Our brief test loop wasn’t entirely indicative of what the Fronx is likely to face day-to-day. With limited time and no preset drive program, the roads within a 20-or-so minute drive of Nagambie, Victoria had to suffice.

The Fronx fared well on the average road, it turned out, with the 1064kg Suzuki managing to feel planted enough to hurl along 100km/h back-roads without complaints. It rides on the same platform used recently by the Suzuki Baleno, something I’ll admit to not having driven.

The rougher roads didn’t faze the light SUV too much, though consistently uneven surfaces made it feel unsettled in some cornering.

Its steering and suspension give enough feedback to make the right inputs easily, though the nature of its light weight and minimal accoutrement in terms of driver assistance make the Fronx feel very rudimentary from the driver’s seat.

At low speeds around the centre of town, the Fronx manages the state’s terrible roads well, though taking off from intersections can be laborious. Much like overtaking, the drivetrain will complain.

And don’t expect its mild hybrid system to do a lot in the way of hard work - or any work at all, really. You could take the hybrid badge off the car, let someone have a drive, and they’d be none the wiser.

From the limited observations on the launch, the Fronx would feel best at home in suburbia or a metropolitan centre more so than on the Hume Highway or the towns dotted alongside it.

Essentially, this is not a refined road trip car for the highway, but its no-fuss approach to getting around means you shouldn’t be surprised if you start seeing them in the car parks at universities or bowls clubs.

Forgive the horrific paraphrasing, but it seems rumours of the death of diesel have been greatly exaggerated, at least when it comes to the Kia Carnival.

Get this – diesel sales make up some 90 per cent of the Carnival's total haul, with petrol providing a pittance towards the sales total, presumably being picked up by fleet buyers.

And to be honest, that means nine out of 10 people are making the right choice here. Yes, the petrol makes more power, but it's the torque on offer from the diesel that makes pushing the Carnival around feel far more effortless.

The petrol engine can definitely get you moving, but it feels a bit too rev-happy and thrashy when you really put your foot down, and its significantly thirstier to boot.

The diesel isn't perfect – the thrum of the engine is a constant companion whenever you put your foot down, and there's actually too much torque on offer at times, like if you're accelerating up hill from a standstill on a damp road, and so the front tyres can scrabble and scramble for grip.

But it otherwise so perfectly suits the nature of the Carnival that it is definitely the best and most satisfying choice.

Another big change for this update is the fact that Kia's complete ride and handling program has been rolled out here. Kia says local work done on the outgoing car, the one this replaces, was curtailed by Covid and bushfires, and so ended up being done by correspondence.

This one, though, has had the whole enchilada thrown at it, and it shows. They've succeeded in making a bigger car feel smaller around you. It's not a sports car by any measure, but nor does it ever feel too big and unwieldily.

Part of that is down to the steering, which is direct and confidence inspiring, but mostly I suspect it's because of the ride, which is firmer than you might expect in a family hauler, but also offers a connection to that road below that makes you feel in control.

Whether a firm-ish ride is a perk or negative is up to you, but it definitely works for me.

Part of the change package for this updated Carnival is in its safety kit, some of which simply wasn’t available when Kia launched its predecessor.

Which is why every model now gets a centre side airbag, 'Forward Collision Assist AEB', 'Rear Occupant Alert', 'Trailer Stability Assist' and front parking sensors, joining the rear ones that were already there.

Sport+ Models and up now add a 'Blind Spot View Monitor' and rain-sensing wipers, as well as rear AEB through the 'Parking Collision Avoidance' function.

I have to say, though, when your entry-level car is $50k-plus, there’s no real excuse for limiting the best safety kit to the upper-spec models.

Also standard are lane keep assist, with 'Lane Follow Assist', multi-collision braking, a speed-limit warning (which you will turn off) and a reversing camera.

The Carnival range carries a five-star ANCAP safety rating, which it earned in 2021.

Suzuki has a five-year, unlimited kilometre warranty for its new cars, which is a little behind the curve compared to many budget-friendly brands these days. 

Suzuki does have a five-year servicing schedule, with intervals every 12 months or 15,000km, whichever comes first. Total cost is $2005 over the five years, with services averaging $401, which is not particularly cheap.

Like all Kias, the Carnival arrives with a seven-year, unlimited-kilometre warranty, with capped-price servicing throughout.

Kia’s servicing costs are higher than some of its competitors, though, so you might want to compare them, as well as compare what’s included, and the diesel model will usually cost slightly more to maintain than the petrol version.

Service intervals are every 12 months or 15,000kms, and while the brand is still finalising the petrol servicing costs, the diesel prices are $386, $682, $480, $869, $434, $845 and $461, covering the first seven years of ownership.