Suzuki Ignis vs Chery C5

What's the difference?

With statement styling, inherent agility, excellent efficiency, proven reliability, high equipment levels and low entry pricing, the 2021 Ignis GLX is in danger of becoming a mandatory short-list proposition for people seeking fun and affordable motoring.

But undermining all that is a distinct lack of driver-assist safety tech that can’t be – and shouldn’t be – ignored. At least give buyers the option of paying more for essentials like AEB.

If Suzuki can address this shortfall, the Ignis would join its excellent Swift supermini stablemate in being a very compelling and enjoyable compact urban runabout. We hope this happens sooner rather than later.

Can a new name, fresh face and suspension update save Chery’s sleek SUV coupe from the ignominy of being one of the least pleasant options in its ultra-competitive class?

Sadly, not enough has been done for us to recommend the new C5.

As an affordable, stylish, roomy and zoomy SUV, the Chery definitely provides showroom appeal, especially given the decent warranty.

But, with lots of little niggles still present to distract and frustrate, the C5 is far from A1. Plus, with prices now creeping up, it doesn’t even have the cheap pricing of the old Omoda 5 to get it over the line.

Heading into 2026, Chery still needs to do better than this.

Sometimes facelifts do really improve the look of a vehicle, as is the case here with the MF Series II.

Maybe it’s the Suzuki Jimny 4x4-inspired quad-nostril grille or chunkier rear bumper inserts, but they somehow make the Japanese-built crossover seem less narrow and tippy-toed.

The styling – first seen in 2016 – actually references classic Suzukis of old like the late 1970s Cervo SC100 (as per the C-pillar slit inserts and angular silhouette) that were never offered in Australia anyway.

A good thing, then, that the Ignis’ handsome proportions, flared wheel arches, deep glass area, anthropomorphic grille and pushed-out wheelbase and tracks give it a purposeful look and stance that also stands as an attractive and individualistic 21st Century design in its own right.  

Measuring in at 3700mm in length, 1660mm in width and 1595mm in height, the Ignis is substantially stubbier and narrower (though slightly taller) than the Hyundai Venue, whose corresponding numbers are 4040mm, 1770mm and 1592mm, respectively. The Suzuki’s 2435mm wheelbase is also 85mm shy of the Hyundai.

Still, the result doesn’t mean the Ignis’ cabin seems overly tight or cramped in any shape or form.

The new and narrower nose treatment is better, banishing the Omoda 5’s insectoid face straight into the bin. As an example of coupe-SUV design, the unaltered silhouette remains contemporary and is a defining signature for the series.

But, as before, the C5’s styling is hobbled by its narrow-gutted track width and highish (at 184mm) ground clearance, that give it a muffin-top and tippy-toed appearance respectively from most angles. Flashbacks to a Holden VN Commodore. Stance be damned.

Let’s look at the newcomer’s dimensions, compared to the Tiggo 4 for perspective: length is 4351mm (plus 44mm), width is 1831mm (+6mm), height is 1662mm (+2mm) and wheelbase is identical at 2610mm.

Still, there’s a positively Pollyanna-esque perspective to be gained here as well, since the C5’s extra size translates to a biggish small SUV inside a cabin that seems stylishly minimalistic. Or fairly basic. It all depends on your point of view.

Let’s take a closer look.

Thinking about it, the Ignis is uniquely suited to city life.

Forget its diminutive proportions for a moment, and consider instead that it has extraordinarily high seating positions and a tall turret. Perfect for stepping inside the car with some degree of dignity.

Once sat on the big, comfy and lofty front seats, you’re immediately struck by how confidence-building the commanding driving position, assisted by the excellent all-round vision afforded by the deep glass area and upright pillars and a pleasant leather-like steering wheel cover.  

The front buckets themselves are comfy and enveloping, even though there is no lumbar adjustment support fitted; there is a height lever on the driver’s side, ample rearward travel for taller folk and side bolstering to help hug you through corners, while the soft cloth material feels good to the touch.

Suzuki’s thought about storage, as demonstrated by the big glovebox, bottle-holding door pockets up front, deep lower-console shelf and trio of cupholders, though there is no central armrest or bin, even in this up-spec grade.

Suzuki’s gone for a somewhat old-school off-roader theme inside, evidenced by the chunky heater/air-con controls, toggle switchgear and 4x4-look pared-back dash, while there’s plenty of hardy, hollow-sounding plastics to remind you that this is built down to a price. One lovely retro detail is the ‘60s pull-out bonnet release.

Operating the GLX’s climate control is child’s play, and the same applies to the ageing but still effective multimedia system, with its colourful display, easy connectivity and handy sat-nav. Note that the virtual volume slider on the screen is slow, fiddly and ultimately needlessly distracting. Give us a proper knob any day of the week. And what about a digital radio receiver, please, Suzuki?

We’re also less fond of the tilt-only non-telescopic steering column, as some drivers found it difficult to find the perfect position as a result, while the lack of digital speedo when there is room for it in the instrumentation’s LCD window smacks of penny pinching. Otherwise, the Ignis’ layout and design generally really hit the mark.

The rear doors open at nearly 90 degrees, aiding entry to and egress from the back seat. Although the front passenger seat lacks a height adjuster, it is still set up high, so big feet can tuck in underneath for taller occupants behind.

Being a GLX, the bench is split 50/50, is designed to only carry two people (so there’s no centre belt but ample width as a consequence) and the backrest reclines in 10 (narrow) positions for added comfort. Both also slide forward by a significant amount, boosting cargo space. Parents and guardians of smaller children might find this helpful as they can be positioned closer to the front seats for access that’s within arm’s reach.

The backrests themselves are… OK and clearly intended for smaller folk. Your 178cm tester found a distinct lack of under-thigh support due to the short squab and the backrest doesn’t reline far enough back for true comfort. And except for the aforementioned third cupholder nestled right at the rear of the front-seat lower-console area, door-pull recess that might hold an upright smartphone as well as a small bottle receptacle built into the door card, storage is non-existent back there. Yes, there is one map pocket, but that’s your lot. You’ll also search in vain for overhead grab handles (only the front passenger gets one), reading lights and rear-seat centre armrest – a wasted opportunity given this car’s four-seater status.

On the other hand, there’s space galore in every direction due to that very status, excellent vision and windows that wind (electrically of course) all the way down for a light and airy feel. Fido will be pleased. Just remember to bring your ear plugs if constant road noise bothers you.

Further back, you’ll marvel at the versatility of the cargo area, thanks to the sliding split bench that increases cargo capacity from 264 litres in normal four-seat mode to 515L with the backrests folded and 1104L in “maximum volume” mode. Note the five-seater GL’s ranges from 271L to 505L to 1101L respectively.

It’s properly long and deep in this setting. There’s a deep floor (with a space-saver spare underneath) and a light, but not much else. The fit and finish is fine but the floor seems flimsy and the parcel shelf lightweight. At least it isn’t mesh as per the Honda HR-V’s.

Three things struck me the moment I stepped inside the C5.

Firstly, though the silhouette suggests a low-slung car, the tall stance means getting in and out isn’t a drama at all, with the seats being up high enough for this to deserve its SUV/crossover status.

Secondly, the Chery emits a somewhat repellent plastic off-gas odour, a bit like a cheap toy. The smell never goes away. Perhaps it was just our test car? Unlikely though, as it reminds me of pre-2000s Kias and Hyundais.

And in stark contrast, thirdly, there’s an arresting elegance to the dashboard’s minimalist layout and presentation. Nothing’s changed visually and nothing needed to.

Let’s concentrate on the many positive points first.

There’s plenty of space around you for a comparatively small and narrow SUV, including ample legroom and head room for your 178cm tester front and back. It doesn't feel cramped at all.

Finding the ideal driving position is easy, with most of the (available) switches and controls where you’d need them to be without having to stretch to reach. Helping things out here is an adjustable steering wheel for rake as well as reach. Unlike in an MG ZS.

The dash layout looks great, given that this car is of a 2022 vintage, with the large, twin 10.25-inch integrated displays for both the electronic instrumentation and the multimedia system seamlessly presented. Both are fairly clear and easy to work out and operate. And, despite being an older-generation vehicle (it’s now well into year four of production), the instruments still look fresh.

And though the C5 runs a software-based operating system for vehicle functions, climate, audio, multimedia and other settings, the few buttons provided are well integrated and mostly work logically.

Below the touchscreen is a row of haptic switches for the main heating and cooling elements, meaning just one touch is necessary and with no complicated and time-consuming sub-menus to navigate. That's good.

You do need to dive into sub-menus for some drive settings and modes, though, and that's disappointing, but at least the C5’s is not as complicated as some others we’ve experienced of late.

Other plus points include excellent ventilation and loads of storage, including a big old glovebox, a cavernous centre console bin, a vast lower area to hide things on, deep cupholders and a ‘wall’ to lean two phones or a tablet while still being visible for the driver to glance at, with one side providing wireless charging on the Ultimate grade.

Along with pleasant cloth seats that are surprisingly comfortable, all show a reassuring degree of thoughtfulness.

Additionally, the poor side and rear vision is at least aided by large side mirrors and a crisp reverse-camera views.

However, there are some serious downsides too, starting with the C5’s aforementioned phone/tablet wall. The rubber backing in our test car was misshapen and dog-eared, undermining the otherwise exemplary build quality.

Until you learn its weird ways, the gear shifter can be unfathomable. It looks like it would operate as per a regular T-bar, but pressing the side button to engage Drive or Reverse instead locks them out, meaning the uninitiated will inevitably find themselves panicking manoeuvring in traffic with impatient drivers wondering why a Chery is blocking the road during a cheeky three-point turn. Embarrassing and, yes, super frustrating.

In the Ultra at least, the lofty front passenger seat has no height adjustment. The digital radio did not work for the entire week we had the C5. Maybe it was just our car, but even in inner Melbourne, reception proved elusive.

And the touchscreen-based secondary climate settings that aren’t supported by physical buttons are a stretch away, including temperature adjustment, meaning these and other items are arranged for left-hand-drive access.

This means it is fiddly to operate, as concentration is not on the road ahead, resulting in the driver monitor sounding off, leading to more frustration. An unvirtuous circle of distraction ensues, highlighting the folly of software-based vehicle systems that have not been tailored to Australian road conditions. Fail.

But nothing is as aggravating as the Chery’s voice control system. Like we said earlier, when turned on, it mishears or misunderstands words to almost a comical degree… if it wasn’t so constantly intrusive. As with paranoid and/or trigger-happy ADAS warnings, you end up switching off such irritating tech. Which beggars the question: what is their point?

Moving to the back seat, things look up again, with sufficient space for most smaller families to settle into.

The bench is fine, offering adequate comfort for shorter journeys. Legroom is generous, helped out by room for boots to tuck underneath the front cushion. And most amenities are present for a base model car, including a folding armrest with two cupholders (again, unlike in an MG ZS), as well as one-touch electric windows, overhead grab handles, coat hooks, decent size door bins, a USB port and face level ventilation.

All those go towards making the C5 well-packaged, small family transport.

Further back, Chery has managed to liberate an extra 10 litres of cargo capacity compared to the old Omoda 5, so 360 litres is available – which is not bad for a small SUV. That rises to 1075L in two-seater mode.

It’s also a practical and easy boot to use, with a space saver spare wheel.

In its latest guise, Chery’s small SUV coupe range has been reduced to just two grades, Urban and Ultimate.

This one’s the Urban. At $29,990 drive-away at the time of publishing, it undercuts the Ultimate by $5000, but does cost $2000 more than the old base Omoda 5 FX. And the competition is becoming fiercer by the month.

Consider, for example, the redesigned and vastly-improved MG ZS, facelifted Jolion and all-new Suzuki Fronx, as well the less expensive if smaller rivals such as the Mahindra 3XO, Kia Stonic, Hyundai Venue, Mazda CX-3, Nissan Juke and Chery’s own Tiggo 4.

Frankly, the Omoda 5 needed to improve.

To that end, the C5 ditches the old torsion beam rear suspension for a multi-link independent set-up that promises better comfort and control. That’s a big step in the right direction.

And while long-term durability and reliability remain unknowns with such gearboxes, a switch from a continuously variable transmission (CVT) to a six-speed dual-clutch transmission (DCT) may be a nod to driving enthusiasts. Let’s see about that.

The entry-level Ultra includes a nicely integrated electronic display and central touchscreen at 10.25 inches apiece, wireless Apple CarPlay/Android Auto, DAB+ digital radio, rear air vents, powered folding mirrors, noise-cutting acoustic front door glass and 17-inch alloys.

There’s also “Hello, Chery” voice control, that can thankfully be silenced as our example’s inability to differentiate 'Chery' from 'Cher', 'chair' and 'care' fast became a pain in you-know-where, since it insisted on constantly butting in.

Seven airbags and a decent level of advanced driver assistance systems (ADAS) are also standard – more on those in the safety section below.

For the record, the $35K-drive-away Ultimate adds better audio, a powered tailgate, heated front seats, dual-zone climate control, a 360-degree monitor, sunroof with sunshade, wireless charger, imitation leather, bigger wheels and more.

However, they are also necessary sweeteners against sophisticated rivals like the Toyota Yaris Cross Hybrid, Mazda CX-30, Subaru Crosstrek, Hyundai Kona, Nissan Qashqai and Renault Duster.

More importantly for some, the closely related and virtually identically sized Chery Tiggo 4 costs several thousand dollars less, and mostly matches the C5’s spec at each corresponding grade, undermining the newcomer's value. A strange own-goal, Chery.

Oh well. For some buyers, this swoopy crossover is all about image. At least the facelift addresses the old Omoda 5’s odd appearance from some angles.

Nearing 10 years in production, Suzuki’s K12C 1242cc 1.2-litre twin-cam 16-valve four-cylinder petrol engine is a tried and tested naturally-aspirated unit, revving strongly and effortlessly all the way to its red line. Peak power is 66kW at 6000rpm and the torque top is rated at 120Nm at 4400rpm.

With a kerb weight of just 865kg – a Suzuki specialty – the Ignis boasts a power-to-weight ratio of a healthy 76.3kW/per tonne.

It’s a shame the GLX isn’t available with the GL’s five-speed manual gearbox. Instead, your lot is an albeit-efficient automatic of the CVT (Continuously Variable Transmission) variety, driving just the front wheels for Aussie-bound Ignis models.

Overseas there are mild-hybrid and all-wheel drive alternatives too.

The C5 is powered by a 1.5-litre four-cylinder turbo petrol engine, delivering 108kW of power at 5500rpm and 210Nm of torque from 1750-4000rpm.

As part of the MY25 facelift, the Chery swaps out the old Omoda 5’s CVT for a six-speed dual-clutch transmission, complete with a handy manual mode. It drives the front wheels only.

Tipping the scales at 1462kg (kerb), the C5 Ultra offers a power-to-weight ratio of 73.9kW/tonne – which is slightly less than, say, a Haval Jolion, but quite a bit behind a Mazda CX-3.

With a slight helping hand from a strong northerly wind, we managed to record a 0-100km/h sprint time of 9.9 seconds. This figure suggests the Chery feels faster than it is.

Suzuki’s weight-loss obsession is great news for people wanting a high-economy urban crossover.

Tuned to run on 91 RON standard unleaded petrol, our Ignis GLX returned an efficient 6.2 litres per 100km at the pump. And while that is somewhat off the 4.9L/100km Suzuki claims, much of that was in heavy peak-hour traffic with the air-con on, or during performance testing out on the open road.

That 4.9L/100km published average figure translates to a carbon-dioxide emissions rating of just 114 grams per kilometre. Even with the Ignis’ tiny 32-litre tank, over 650km between refills is possible.

The C5’s combined average fuel consumption figure is 6.9L/100km, for a carbon dioxide emissions rating of 160 grams/km. And that’s on regular 91 RON standard unleaded. Topping the 51-litre petrol tank should result in nearly 740km of range between refills.

During our week with the Chery, we managed 9.0L/100km, which is very disappointing, though that did include highway and performance driving.

Comparatively conventional in mechanical layout it may be, but the Ignis feels especially at home around town.

A strong and revvy 1.2-litre engine, coupled to a flexible CVT, provides eager off-the-line acceleration, though the accompanying loud exhaust drone may get tiresome for some. Aided by the Suzuki’s light mass, luckily there’s sufficient low-down response for most drivers to experience healthy performance without having to assault all occupants’ ear drums.

What this means is that the Ignis will accelerate quite vigorously once on the move, with plenty of oomph available as the revs rise towards the 6000rpm peak power point. Yes, the CVT will elicit an endless moan from the engine, but speed does build up quickly and before you know it.

We weren’t expecting to find a ‘Sport’ mode button located on the side of the auto’s shifter; locking out the highest ratios, it keeps the tacho needle within a pre-determined power band that’s useful if noticeably stronger throttle response is required. Otherwise, in Normal mode, the powertrain is tuned to upshift to top gear in the interest of efficiency. It’s good that the Suzuki at least gives the keener driver some choice in the matter.

This is also the best Ignis we’ve driven yet when it comes to steering. Around town, the turning circle is smaller than federal funding for the arts, environment and education portfolios come budget time, providing stupendously easy parking, effortless manoeuvrability and pin-point handling accuracy, especially when weaving in and out of traffic.

Yet the helm also works out on the highway as well, or through tight and twisty turns, with a blend of sporty precision and reassuring control. Keener drivers can scoot around corners at speed and – perhaps surprisingly – not experience excessive body lean, despite the Ignis’ height and narrow track. It instead just knuckles down and gets the job done, with confidence. The Ignis sticks to the road.

We expected scrappy handling but instead received no-drama agility. The chassis feels it can handle a whole lot more power than what the GLX offers. We were also pleased by how comfy the ride is on smooth roads.

However, though mid-corner bumps do not upset the Ignis’ composure, they certainly make themselves felt through inside the cabin. Indeed, around town, in the ‘burbs or out on the highway, the suspension’s inherent firmness that no doubt enhances the Suzuki’s dynamics means sharp, sudden jolts aren’t absorbed as well as we’d like, making for a hard ride at times. There’s less wheel travel from the MacPherson strut-style front and torsion beam rear end set-up than the 1.6-metre height and 180mm ground clearance suggest.

Reducing the amount of road and tyre noise piping through inside would substantially increase the Ignis’ overall appeal. That and level of driver-assist safety tech. 

Two big jobs for its eventual successor, then.

Chery has made some pretty fundamental changes underneath, so we had higher hopes of the C5 compared to the preceding Omoda 5. However, expectations ought to be tempered here.

Let’s begin with the Chinese SUV’s performance.

After a moment’s hesitation, the C5 feels punchy from the get-go, with a decent amount of muscle as the revs rise. Throttle response is brisk, even at higher speeds. And the brakes do a great job. This is quite the rapid little runabout.

Some of that initial lag is down to the dual-clutch transmission, since it needs time for the turbo to spool up. Once sorted, it shifts swiftly and smoothly, and without delay. Only the aforementioned gear selector complication will catch out new drivers, as the operation is needlessly complicated.

But the engine is never really quiet, and can even feel coarse when extended under hard acceleration, betraying this Chery’s station as a cheap SUV. And the stop/start tech is especially jerky.

The steering, meanwhile, is a mix of disgruntle and delight.

When driving on the motorway, it can feel lumpy, with the driver-assist system tugging away endlessly at the wheel. The sudden jolts make it feel like a pinball as the vehicle feels like it is ricocheting off the white lines. Such constant correction is both tiring and irritating, leading to fatigue and, if your fuse is really short, aggravation.

For steering smoothness or linearity, you need to dive into a sub menu and opt out of several ADAS modes. Or otherwise pull over and wonder why Chinese car companies especially seem to have such disdain for Australian drivers. If this sounds like a nightmare, the C5 is not for you.

Furthermore, there’s no point choosing a steering setting. Comfort is light enough for easy driving and weighty enough for the driver to feel in control, but feedback and feel are absent. And selecting Sport just adds needless heft and makes it all feel way too heavy.

Now, that said, the C5 offers some dynamic compensation, and likely courtesy of its multi-link suspension upgrade.

At higher speeds, the steering, for instance, is pleasingly direct and precise, meaning it turns exactly where you choose it to. The handling feels controlled and the tyres grip well, for some unintentional scrappy fun through really tight corners, to a certain extent anyway. It’s a side to the Chery the Omoda 5 never seemed capable of delivering.

But, inevitably, this comes at a price, and that is a busy and at times agitated ride, with the suspension failing to soak up bumps and irregularities on anything other than smooth roads, despite its new-found independence, adding to further fatigue. For the record, our test car rode on 215/60R17 Giti tyres.

Would higher-quality rubber help fix this? If you’re buying a sub-$30K Chery SUV, would you even care? Basically, unless you enjoy the occasional hoon, the C5 lacks dynamic sophistication as well as sufficient Australian road tuning. Much like its predecessor. Such a letdown.

Considering that it is merely a facelift with a new badge, the Chery C5 conveniently adopts the preceding Omoda 5’s five-star ANCAP crash-test rating.

Note that was conducted in 2022 using earlier performance parameters compared to today.

Anyway, there is little doubt that Chery has done its homework here, with a host of advanced driver-assist systems (ADAS) being fitted.

These include autonomous emergency braking (AEB), forward collision warning, emergency lane keeping, lane departure warning and prevention, blind spot detection, lane change assist, rear cross-traffic alert and braking, adaptive cruise control with traffic jam assist, traffic sign recognition, speed control assist, a driver monitor and auto high beams.

This cannot be understated: most of this ADAS tech requires Australian road tuning, because they interfere and distract to the point of being a nuisance.

Note that the AEB (encompassing pedestrian, cyclist and back-over braking) operates from 4km/h to 65km/h, whilst the car-to-car braking is between 4km/h and 150km/h. The lane-support systems work between 60km/h and 150km/h.

Seven airbags are present (including a front-centre and full head/curtain coverage but no rear side airbags), as are anti-lock brakes, stability control and traction control systems.

Finally, a pair of ISOFIX child-seat latch points and a trio of hooks for tether straps across the rear seat are also part of the C5 package.

Suzuki offers an industry-average five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty and roadside assistance.

Service intervals are every 12 months or 15,000km, while published basic capped-price servicing is available. Prices start at $239 (years one and five) and reach as high as $329 (year three). Total cost is $1465, averaging out to $293 annually over five years at the time of publishing.

Vehicles under five-years old but with higher mileages up to 90,000km can expect to be charged $499, according to Suzuki’s website.

Very competitive if not quite as class leading as the conditional Nissan, Mitsubishi and MG 10-year warranty, the C5 comes with a seven-year/unlimited kilometre warranty.

Chery also offers seven years/105,000km of capped-price servicing and a year’s free roadside assistance, though up to seven years is available should owners choose to have their vehicle maintained at an authorised dealer during that period.

Service intervals are at every 12 months or 10,000km, and cost $280 per visit for the first five, extending to nearly $370 and $290 for the final two.