Suzuki Fronx vs Renault Clio

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 Clio RS is still a ton of fun and in Cup spec, probably the best compromise between price and livability. Despite its advancing years (it turns five this year, so ready to start kindy) and big brother Megane hogging the limelight with a fancy new model on the way, the Clio is a stayer. It's missing some frustratingly obvious things like CarPlay, AEB, rear airbags and rear cross-traffic alert, but it's hardly alone in the segment. 

With the departure of the Fiesta ST, though, the Clio returns to the top of the list of best small hot hatches on sale today.

‘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 Clio is a handsome small car but nothing out of the ordinary until you apply the very cool Liquid Yellow paint. That hue really is quite something and works even better with the black alloys of the Cup chassis.

The car has some lovely surfacing and in a recent-ish refresh, the slightly odd headlights were reworked, as were the front and rear bumpers which now link to the RenaultSport Megane. Sorry, Megane RS. The RS flag signature lighting is a nice touch, acting as DRLs at the bottom corners of the front bumper.

The lovely organic shapes of the Clio's sides still look good and the rather tough rear end with the chunky diffuser leaves you in no doubt that it's the proper RS not the halfway-house, 1.2-litre GT-Line.

Inside is starting to look its age, but graceful, a bit like Jamie-Lee Curtis' or George Clooney's embrace of grey hair. There are still some of the sharp edges I didn't like. It's certainly a Renault to look at and ergonomically works pretty well. One thing that has been fixed at some point is the switch on the gear selector - it won't bite you if you curl your finger underneath when you press it. You might think that's a small thing, but when you did it, damn it hurt.

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 Clio's interior is certainly snug. Rear seat passengers do okay for legroom but headroom is a mite marginal with the falling roofline for six footers. There are no cupholders out back, that curious French habit of supplying just a couple of cup receptacles of different and weird sizes persists. The front doors have space for bottles, the rears do not.

The boot is class-competitive at 300 litres (worth knowing the Trophy loses 70 litres to the Cup) and with the seats down stretches to a claimed 1146L.

The iconic 'Liquid Yellow' ($750 option) Clio I had for the week was the Cup spec chassis. The Clio RS 200, as it is officially known, comes in two specs - Sport and Cup - and there's a Trophy 220 at the top of the range. I had the Cup, which retails at $32,490 (plus on-road costs). The RS220 Trophy, with a bit more poke and stuff, weighs in at $38,990 if you're interested.

The Cup spec is heavily based on the more affordable ($30,990) Sport, which means you get 18-inch alloy wheels (painted black, so watch those kerbs), climate control, four speaker stereo, keyless entry and start (the "key" is still that unwieldy keycard style thing), reversing camera, cruise control, front and rear parking sensors, fog lamps, LED daytime running lights, sat nav, auto LED headlights, auto wipers, launch control, leather bits and pieces and a tyre inflation kit instead of any kind of spare.

The 7.0-inch 'R-Link' touch screen software runs the four speaker stereo with DAB digital radio, Bluetooth and USB. If you get the optional RS Monitor, there is a full-on telemetry system from which you can save your, er, "track day" data and overlay in Google Maps to compare with your mates' or past efforts. You can also change the piped-in engine sound to various different sound effects which are delightfully silly.

Android Auto is part of the breathtaking $1500 'Entertainment Pack' option that includes RS Monitor (which used to be standard) and no, there's no Apple CarPlay. Leather is a further $1500.

Bottom line is that you do get a decent spec bump from the $30,990 Sport along with the more capable (and less comfortable) Cup chassis.

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 200-equipped RSes pony up 147kW/260Nm, which is pretty much bang-on the obvious competition (Peugeot 208 GTI and the outgoing Fiesta ST), driving the front wheels through Renault's six-speed EDC twin-clutch. Unlike those two, there is no overboost function.

Dieppe's finest sprints from 0-100km/h in a claimed 6.7 seconds, pulling along a kerb weight of 1204kg.

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.

Renault claims 5.9L/100km on the combined cycle but, yeah, nah. My week was admittedly filled with plenty of horseplay and spirited driving, yielding 11.4L/100km. If you were careful you may fare better - but not that much better.

The fuel tank is a fairly standard 45 litres. It requires 98RON premium unleaded.

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.

The RS has always had a belter of a chassis. The Cup chassis became a thing just over a decade ago and is lauded by the fans as The One To Have. I've not always been convinced of this as my earlier drives of the Cup-equipped machines have usually been in close proximity to the Sport chassis. 

The Cup is slightly lower than the Sport, with 15 per cent stiffer springs and dampers and perhaps more importantly it scores 18-inch wheels with Dunlop Sport Maxx RT2 tyres, which you can reasonably expect to be a bit firmer than the 17s with Goodyear F1s on the Sport. And they are.

However, in most situations, the Cup chassis is perfectly benign. You certainly feel the bumps and lumps, but you haven't bought a Cup chassis for Lexus-like isolation. It's certainly sharper than the Sport chassis and when you're really giving it a go around the bends, the comfort deficit is more than made up for by the extra grip and poise.

The RS has always had a belter of a chassis.

The chassis is aided and abetted by a torquey 1.6-turbo that cheerfully...no, gleefully spins to the redline which could do with another thousand revs, but that's forced induction for you. The aluminium shift paddles need a good positive pull to get a gear, but that gear is delivered quickly and effortlessly. The Clio is a great deal of fun in Sport and Race modes, with throttle mappings and gearshifts becoming more aggressive as you switch through the modes.

The brakes are tremendously effective and the electronic limited slip diff (*cough* brake-based torque vectoring) ensures you'll hit your apexes and the tyres spend more time gripping than spinning.

But it's not all hairpins and off-camber left-right-lefts, is it? Plenty of owners have to live with the car in traffic day to day. Driving the Cup in isolation, I've changed my mind about it. I reckon it's the best of the two chassis settings. The city ride is better than decent, with the hard edges potholes chamfered off by the dampers and decent compliance. It's not too noisy, either.

On board the Clio is four airbags (no curtain coverage for those in the rear), ABS, stability and traction controls, a reversing camera and two ISOFIX points along with three top-tether anchors.

The Clio was awarded a five-star ANCAP rating in November 2013.

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.

Renault says it was the first European maker to offer a five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty in Australia, and who are we to argue? The package also includes up to four years of roadside assist and three years of capped-price servicing.

Renault expects to see you just once a year or every 20,000km, which gives you a bit more headroom than some similar service plans, at least on the mileage.  The first three services will cost no more than $369 unless you need a new air filter ($38) or pollen filter ($46). At 60,000km or four years you'll cop $262 for a set of spark plugs. The company's website also suggests if the Clio doesn't like the state of its oil, it will beep at you until you have that attended to.