Suzuki Fronx vs Lexus LS500

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.

The LS500 is the least logical version of the most logical option in the ultimate luxury sedan segment in which logic doesn’t often apply at all. 

Take from that what you will, but if it was me being driven around I would definitely be opting for the hybrid version of the LS instead for its smooth electrified driving characteristics and lower operating costs.

‘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.

The distinctive but conservative style of Lexus is on full show across the LS’s massive frame. Like other cars in its class, it’s very much the image of the brand itself with styling points strong, but to me not as impressive as the LC500, which is a definitive expression of the brand.

The LS also has many styling points of the previous-generation Lexus design language which are in the process of being phased out.

The car was only updated last year, bringing with it a more recent interpretation of the brand’s big spindle grille, pointy headlight profile, and angular but traditional rear.

The LS - even in this Sports Luxury guise - does look quite menacing from certain angles. The width and stance of this car is accentuated by its curvaceous rear guards and big square front bumper, with the elegance of a classic three-box sedan maintained in a side profile.

The chrome wheel finish is a bit much for my taste, but there’s no doubt they’re real show pieces. They’d better be, too, because I hear they are incredibly expensive should you need to replace one.

The inside has highs and lows but it’s the place where you can most tell the LS has been on sale for a while.

I love the plush seats, big screen, integrated analogue clock and three-dimensional door card design, which sell the flagship luxury feel.

But this car’s age is on show with its clunky and much maligned 'Remote Touch' pad controller (which Lexus is at long last phasing out in its new cars), last-generation software suite, and its small, crowded instrument cluster.

There are a whopping nine interior trim combinations to choose from and ours has the most recently added black leather and ‘Nishijin Haku’ themed highlights which are meant to be inspired by the way "moonlight sits on an open sea".

The feel is a bit '90s, a rough textured fabric with a silver detailing and elements clad in a thin platinum foil, making you feel like you’re in a classic high-class Japanese taxi.

But I’ll admit it plays well with the ambient lighting effect in the doors, and is a unique selling point compared to the standard leather finish.

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.

For passengers, as you’d expect, the LS is stellar. The massive outboard rear seats offer plenty of room, and are complete with reclining, message, and cooling functions.

Adjustable vents feature, with quad-zone climate, and the screens come with individual headphone jacks and HDMI-in so you can bring with you all sorts of entertainment options for those longer journeys.

Other suitable additions worth noting include the wine cooler (although it’s a bit small for anything other than minibar-sized beverages, hardly the 007 trope of rolling out a full-size bottle of Bollinger), flip-down mirror with a light in the roof, and the touch panel controls in the armrest. I also appreciate the built-in sunshades. Nice touch.

Less impressive is the general vibe of the middle seat. With a large raised centre split in the floor and such wide and lavish outboard seats, the middle seat feels a bit forgotten.

Up front, the practicality offering includes a high level of adjustability for the seats to suit a wide range of driving positions, electrical adjust even for the steering column, and a nice wide seat which you simply sink into.

Of course, soft finishes adorn even unseen parts of the cabin so you’ll never touch a nasty hard plastic, and there are large storage areas in both the doors and centre console box.

This big armrest console also hides the USB connectivity within, and there’s a set of big cup holders with a flip-away lid if you want the wood grain design uninterrupted when they are not in use.

I have to mention the useless touchpad controller here, but hand the brand props for offering a collection of climate shortcut buttons on the dash, an actual volume knob, and truth be told you don’t need the touchpad anyway because the screen is touch. Just be ready for the matching last-generation software, which isn’t the best to use or navigate.

The boot has a volume of 440 litres which sounds plentiful, but the actual use of it is a reminder of one of the reasons SUVs are so popular.

Yes, it’s big and reasonably deep, but putting the largest CarsGuide case in there proved a bit clumsy as you have to lift it over the tall rear bumper and it only just clears the top of the relatively small opening.

I love sedans, but this is one area where you can see the benefit of a hatch opening, particularly if you were frequently doing the airport run.

The Lexus LS is it, the flagship sedan in the Japanese premium outfit’s line-up. It’s available in two trim levels, either the borderline aggressive F-Sport or plush Sports Luxury.

It’s also available with two drivetrain choices, with no price difference between them. The F-Sport starts from $195,953, before on-roads, while the one we’re testing here, the Sport Luxury starts from $201,078.

This pricing is below par for big luxury sedans designed to be ridden in rather than driven, making it a relatively good-value proposition straight out of the gate.

The entry-level Mercedes-Benz S-Class (the S450) starts from $243,890, the single version of the BMW 7 Series (740i M Sport) starts from $268,900, leaving only the Audi A8 (50TDI) even close when it comes to pricing, which starts from $202,700. We don’t get its Korean rival, the Genesis G90 in Australia yet.

‘Value’ or not, the LS has its work cut out for it, as this particular corner of the executive transport marketplace is probably more about badge cred than it is logic, and the 500 Sports Luxury is at a further disadvantage, as it doesn’t offer the Lexus unique selling point, a silky smooth hybrid system.

Ask yourself, when it comes down to it, if money was no object would you rather have a Grand Seiko or a Rolex?

Again, logic doesn’t apply, but the Lexus does offer pretty much everything buyers in this class should be after.

Inclusions on every LS are 20-inch alloy wheels, adaptive LED headlights, 12.3-inch multimedia touchscreen with Apple CarPlay, Android Auto, and built-in navigation, a 23-speaker Mark Levinson branded audio system, climate control with interesting ‘infra-red body temperature sensors’, heated and cooled front seats with 28-way power adjust, a heated steering wheel, full four-door keyless entry with push-button start, ambient interior lighting, a panoramic view camera, electric motion-sensing boot, radar cruise, and connected services.

Just to remind you this Sport Luxury grade is the one to be driven in, not drive yourself, unlike the F-Sport alternative it scores dual 11.6-inch rear seat entertainment touch panels with HDMI input, full quad-zone climate, power reclining for the rear outboard seats with message functions, a drop-down armrest console with a climate control panel, electric sunshades for the rear three windows, a cooler box, seat ventilation, and two additional airbags for the rear seats. Proper plush. Wish it came with a driver, too.

Things you miss out on for picking this one? Not much, the F-Sport scores a more aggressive dash, an 'LFA-Style' cluster, bolstered front seats, sport steering wheel, variable gear ratio steering with rear steering, high performance brakes, and active stabilisers.

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.

The LS500 packs a 3.4-litre twin-turbocharged V6 petrol engine with impressive peak outputs of 310kW/600Nm.

This engine is designed to replace a V8 in terms of its power and feel, and in a lot of ways it does.

It might surprise you to learn the only other place you’ll see this engine used in Australia is the Toyota LandCruiser 300 Series.

The alternative present in the LS500h is a hybrid version of the same engine, sans the turbos.

With its electric assistance, power outputs are lower than this turbo version, but get close with a combined total of 264kW.

While I like the walloping nature of the turbocharged V6 we drove, I think the hybrid is a no-brainer choice for reasons explained in the driving segment.

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.

Given the angry sounds emanating from under the bonnet of this LS every time I put my foot on the accelerator, I was surprised to find overall fuel consumption for the week was surprisingly good.

I used the LS to drive mostly around town, and yet it beat its own urban claim of 14.2L/100km, settling at 12.9L.100km, closer to the combined fuel figure of 10L/100km.

The hybrid is said to nearly halve this consumption, and I’m inclined to believe it based on previous experience with Toyota/Lexus hybrid systems. 

The LS500 requires at least 95RON unleaded fuel and has an 82-litre fuel tank. That means you're looking at a range of around 635km, using our real-world figure.

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.

For a seemingly very sophisticated car, there’s something decidedly unsophisticated about the way the LS500 feels from behind the wheel.

Immediately, it feels nowhere near as cutting edge or even as special as something like the LC500, which to me becomes the truest expression of everything Lexus.

No, the LS500 in this turbo V6 guise feels a little bit too old-fashioned. It’s quiet and under acceleration feels like a V8 of just a few years ago, but the Aisin-sourced traditional torque converter automatic transmission is, dare I say, ordinary, lacking the finesse of its German rivals. It’s a problem which is easily solved. Pick the hybrid.

Elsewhere the experience is decidedly Lexus. If you’ve driven even an IS the experience is very familiar in the LS. The touchpoints all match, the steering is light and smooth with a healthy serve of electrical assistance, and, for the most part, the ride is as floaty and comfortable as you’d expect.

I say ‘for the most part’ because there are limits to what the LS’s adjustable-height air suspension will filter out on the enormous 20-inch wheels, complete with run-flat tyres.

Small bumps and potholes are dispatched with ease. Anything too large which passes a certain thud-factor will definitely be communicated to the cabin, though, making for a strange all-or-nothing ride quality.

It is impeccably silent inside, though. The engine is distant, even under load, and tyre noise is virtually non-existent thanks to specially designed alloy wheels with hollow chambers designed to minimise this effect. Now that’s more like what I expect from a Lexus.

It handles very well for such a big unit, making it at least decent to drive for the few buyers who will actually take the helm themselves.

This is no land yacht, it’s a surprisingly agile and adept machine when faced with a bit of blacktop. And it's here where the turbocharged V6 comes into its own compared to the hybrid, offering superior driver engagement.

This Sports Luxury version of the LS500 has everything and then some. The usual key highlights are included: high-speed radar based auto emergency braking with pedestrian and cyclist detection as well as intersection assist and fully adaptive cruise control, lane keep assist with lane departure warning, blind spot monitoring with rear cross traffic alert, rear auto braking, traffic sign assist, adaptive headlights, and a panoramic parking camera.

Specific to the Sports Luxury is two additional rear airbags for a total of 12. Despite this thorough suite of equipment, the LS has not been tested by ANCAP.

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.

Lexus offers a five-year and unlimited kilometre warranty, and LX buyers get three years of complimentary membership to the brand’s ‘Encore Platinum’ owner experience, which includes three years of capped price servicing, free loan cars at the time of service, invites to events, discounts on fuel at Ampol outlets, and four uses of ‘Lexus On Demand’ which lets owners swap into another Lexus model for up to eight days at a time, as well as eight free uses of valet parking at certain locations.

Servicing on the LS occurs once every 12 months or 15,000km and is fixed for the first three years at $595. Very cheap for the space it plays in.