Suzuki Jimny vs Abarth 124

What's the difference?

If you currently own a three-door Jimny and expect the XL to provide you with much beyond a more spacious second row (or luggage compartment overall), it might be best to hold on to what you’ve got.

And if you don’t own a Jimny and want one, there’s not much I reckon I’d be able to say to stop you if the resolve of anyone I know who’s ended up buying one is anything to go by.

If you’re a ‘get out on the weekend’ kind of person but you live a city Monday-to-Friday, it’s hard to look past the Jimny for simplicity, fun, and a competitive price.

Not to mention, of course, that it is also just so bloody cute.

The Abarth 124 Spider is a flawed but dramatic little car that should put a smile and a big, fat Italian moustache on any weekend warrior’s face.

As long as you don’t expect it to do much more than that in terms of its daily driving ability, it hits the nail on the head as a spicy alternative to the well-rounded MX-5 formula.

Whether it hails from Hiroshima or not is irrelevant. Its ancestors would be proud.

Now, if only all of them had this Monza Edition’s glorious exhaust…

There will be no prizes for a ‘spot the difference’ between the Jimny and the Jimny XL. 

You may have spotted the extra doors (and the subsequent longer body, 3965mm over 3645mm, a 320mm increase according to the spec sheet), but did you spot the chrome accents in the Jimny’s grille? 

That’s right, it’s not just the doors… it’s the doors and the grille.

Of course, some more changes naturally follow the new body style - it’s rear-most side windows are now much narrower, though the second-row windows do a lot to prevent losing any visibility, and the longer side silhouette looks a little more ‘grown up’.

Even then, the Jimny XL is shorter than a five-door Mini hatch by 58mm, and only 50mm longer than a Mazda MX-5.

The Jimny’s body elements still remain the same though, down to the 15-inch alloy wheels, plus the spare on the back. It’s also shares its 1725mm height and 1645mm width with the three-door, although its wheelbase is now 2590mm instead of 2250mm.

Inside, the rugged nature of the 4WD blends with a little bit of youthful modern design. The steering wheel is borrowed from other Suzuki models like the Swift, and the big dial housing has a fun retro vibe.

I love the way the 124 looks. The more you pore over its small frame, the more you discover how different it is to its MX-5 counterpart.

It’s angrier. It’s more beautiful, and it’s definitely more Italian.

References to the original have been tastefully applied without transforming it into bloated caricature. These include the dual indents on the hood, the rounded-out light clusters, and the squared-off rear.

From there it goes beyond the original 124 and seems to take influence from contemporary Italian designs. I would argue there’s more than a little modern Maserati in this car’s tough wheelarches, scoopy mouth, rear light fittings and alloy wheel design.

The quad-exhaust pipes (actually just two tailpipes with four apertures) is arguably overkill, but adds a bit of extra aggression to this car’s rear. I’m not a fan of the oversized Abarth badgework on this car’s nose and rear. It removes a bit of subtelty from the equation, and the one on the bootlid is entirely unnecessary.

I’d also argue our test Monza Edition car looks best with its white paint and red highlights throughout. It’s also available in red and black.

The inside breaks the illusion a little. I’d argue not enough has been done to differentiate the 124 from its MX-5 roots here. It’s all Mazda switchgear.

There’s nothing wrong with that switchgear, of course. It’s well built and ergonomic, but I’d love to have something different to mix it up here. A Fiat 500 steering wheel… some switches that look cool but barely function properly… Just a little more of the Italian personality that’s so well expressed on the outside…

The seats are unique to the Abarth and are lovely, and the red highlights carry through them onto the dash and wheel stitching. The Monza edition has the official logo of the famed Italian circuit between the seats, with the build-number etched on it.

If practicality to you means plenty of spaces to put things or a lot of little additional features, you’re going to be disappointed by the Jimny XL’s cabin. But if you see it more as a ‘could be hosed out if something goes horribly wrong’ type of thing, then I have good news for you.

Okay, don’t hose out your Jimny, but the hard-wearing basic materials are clearly here to accommodate mess. We’re talkin’ plastic, we’re talkin’ cloth, we’re talkin’... plastic. Yep, not much in the way of soft-touch or supple armrests, but you wouldn’t want to accidentally tear a leather seat with a tent peg, would you?

In terms of actual ergonomics and user-friendliness, the Jimny scores pretty well once you’re across some of the slightly odd elements.

Its front window controls are below the climate controls, rather than with the rear window controls, for example, which I assume is due to the second-row windows not being part of the original design. 

There’s also not a huge amount of storage space, front or rear, for anything other than small items or the usual drink bottles.

Fortunately, the big change for the XL is noticeable. Being able to get in and out of the second row is now easier thanks to, you guessed it, doors! 

And once you’re in there, even if you’re an adult, you’ll find yourself in a space that you could probably survive a road trip in, even if loading up a tiny ladder-frame SUV with more than two people for a long drive should at least attract some kind of fine or other minor punishment. You literally couldn’t have five people in the Jimny, though, as it’s only a four-seater.

If you needed a reminder of how tiny the Jimny is even in XL form, the luggage space is listed as 332 litres, which is less than a Hyundai i30 hatchback by 63 litres.

Oh, and that’s with the seats down. Up? You get 211L of luggage space, which is about as much as a Mini Hatch.

When it comes down to a practicality score, it’s only fair to compare a car like this to its direct competitors. A sports car like this is never going to take on a hatch or SUV in the practicality stakes.

Even so, and just like the MX-5, the Abarth 124 is tight on the inside. I fit inside it perfectly, but there are problems.

Legroom is super tight for me at 182cm tall. I had to adjust to having my clutch foot at an angle, otherwise I’d smack my knee on the bottom of the steering wheel, a problem that also makes this car tough to clamber into. The handbrake takes up a massive amount of room in the limited centre-console space, and as to storage in the cabin? You may as well forget it.

There’s a tiny flip-up binnacle in the centre, shallow enough maybe for a phone and nothing else, a slot under the air-conditioning controls seemingly designed expressly for phones, and two floating cupholders between the seats.

There’s no storage in the doors, nor is there a glovebox. You do get a rather large storage area behind the cupholders, accessible through a hatch opening, but it’s a little awkward to use.

Once you’re in, though, this car fits like a glove in terms of ergonomics. The wheel is nice and low, the seats are surprisingly supportive and your elbow rests nicely on the centre, leading your hand to the excellent short-action shifter. Headroom is tight no matter which way you cut it, but it’s such a small car you hardly expect more.

How about the boot? It’s better than you might hope, but with just 130 litres on offer it’s still no more than a weekender. It’s also less than the Toyota 86/BRZ (223L) which also have back seats, always handy no matter how small they are.

There’s no spare to be found. The 124 has a repair kit only.

I should make this clear at the beginning, this Monza edition is an ultra-limited trim, with just 30 cars available in Australia. Ours was number 26, a manual, wearing a drive-away price of $46,950.

That’s expensive, but not outrageously so. An equivalent high-spec manual MX-5, for example (GT 2.0 Roadster), comes in at a before-on-roads cost of $42,820. Looking outside Hiroshima, you can also be hopping into either a Toyota 86 GTS Performance manual ($39,590), or a Subaru BRZ tS manual ($40,434) for less.

So, the Abarth is the most expensive of a limited pool of choices. Thankfully it does offer a little more than just Italian spunk and some oversized scorpion badges.

Standard on every car are 17-inch gunmetal alloy wheels, a 7.0-inch touchscreen with Mazda’s rather good MZD software (but no Apple CarPlay or Android Auto support), a Bose premium sound system, heated front seats, and keyless entry with push-button start.

Performance-wise, every car gets four-piston Brembo front brakes, Bilstein suspension and a mechanical limited-slip differential.

The Monza edition adds the normally optional ($1490) contrast-stitched ‘Abarth’ red and black full leather seats, and the ‘Visibility Pack’ ($2590) consisting of full LED steering-responsive front lighting, rear parking sensors and camera, as well as washers for the headlamps. The pack also adds items to this car’s rather limited safety suite, which we’ll talk about later.

Most notably, this edition finally grants the 124 the exhaust system it deserves, the neatly named “Record Monza” system, which uses a mechanically actuated valve to have the 1.4-litre turbo barking and spitting away in a stupidly smile-inducing way.

Every 124 should have this system, it adds much needed drama to the engine note, but isn’t as obnoxiously loud as something like the outgoing AMG A45.

The Abarth isn’t as crazily specified as some of today’s run-of-the-mill SUVs, sure. But that’s not what this car is about, and for what it’s worth, it has just about everything you’ll really need and certainly more than the 86 or BRZ, helping to justify its extra cash ask.

The Jimny XL uses the same 1.5-litre, naturally aspirated four-cylinder engine as the original.

It only makes 75kW and 130Nm, and even though the Jimny is a relatively light SUV (actually, relatively light for a car in general), it still doesn’t quite feel like enough for hauling around 1200kg of 4X4 plus a person or two.

Unlike the MX-5 and 86/BRZ combo, which offer a choice of naturally aspirated engines, the 124 carves its own path by dropping Fiat’s 1.4-litre ‘MultiAir’ turbo four-cylinder under the hood.

The word ‘turbo’ should rightly prick your ears in a car this size, but this this is hardly a high-performance unit when compared to its non-turbo counterparts.

Outputs are set at 125kW/250Nm. That power figure might seem a little low when compared to the new 2.0-litre MX-5 (135kW/205Nm) and 86 (152kW/212Nm), but the extra torque is welcome. It comes at a cost,  which we’ll explore in the driving section of this review.

Suzuki claims the Jimny XL, with the four-speed automatic transmission as tested, should consume 6.9L/100km on the combined cycle - the manual uses a claimed 6.4L, both figures are the same as the three-door equivalents.

On test, with primarily inner-urban and city commute driving, I saw the XL use 9.4L/100km. Anyone frequenting stop-start traffic can expect similarly high figures and, even though many owners will see lower figures, achieving the claimed 6.9L would be a solid effort even on long highway drives.

The 124 has a bold-souning official combined fuel consumption figure of 6.4L/100km, which I overshot by quite a margin. At the end of my week, (involving truly mixed freeway/city driving) I landed on 8.5L/100km, which was exactly on this car’s ‘urban’ estimate, so take that as a realistic figure.

It’s also less than I’d expect to consume in an 86 and perhaps also the MX-5, so all-in-all it's not too bad.

The turbo Fiat engine requires a minimum of mid-grade 95 RON unleaded to fill a 45-litre tank.

The Jimny might be a little bit more work than you’re used to if you’re swapping out of a hatchback or small city SUV.

That’s not meant to sound like a scathing criticism, either, because despite its cutesy appearances and (whether intended or not) appeal to young inner-city types, the Jimny is a ladder-frame chassis off-roader. And it drives like one.

During my time with the Jimny XL, each Instagram story I posted would garner at least a couple of responses in the vein of ‘What’s it like?’ or ‘Should I buy one?’ from people in their late 20s and 30s who I’m 70 per cent sure wouldn’t care much for off-roading.

Most of my responses were probably disappointing to them, because it drives like a small 4X4 and if you’re going to get annoyed by steering corrections, vibrations and noise, it might not be for you. 

But if the little Zuki’s off-road ability (or even just its irresistibly endearing looks) are appealing enough to you, the Suzuki is a fairly easy steer once it becomes second nature. In fact, its engaging nature is part of what makes the Jimny fun to drive. 

Reacting to strong winds or changing road surfaces should be familiar to those who grew up driving older, more rudimentary cars, and even though there’s a fairly noticeable ‘dead’ spot in the centre of the Jimny’s steering, it means you’re able to more subtly adjust (quite regularly, you may find) the steering wheel to keep aligned in your lane.

The suspension can feel a little soft and ‘jostly’ - lean to the side while you’re stopped at an intersection and you’ll feel the Jimny lean too - it’s also a decent reason to be a little cautious with your speed around corners. The Jimny will let you know if you’re going too quickly.

Sure, the longer wheelbase of the XL should help with stability over the three-door, but the nature of the Jimny doesn’t exactly encourage you to find out how much more stable exactly. But it’s fortunately not so much bigger that it sacrifices its advantage over most other off-roaders.

Its ability to get around inner-city areas in the Jimny is a plus if you live urban but need something that can head off-road on weekends - the XL is still relatively small compared to anything else that’s intended for the trails. It feels perfectly comfortable in Melbourne’s laneways and underground car parks in the CBD… as long as you’re okay with how heavy the steering can feel at low speeds.

For trips out of the city where you’ll be getting the Jimny’s tyres a bit dirty (hopefully, it’s what it was built for), just know that the Jimny doesn’t feel its best at highway speed. Its 75kW is pushed to its limit, 130Nm doesn’t inspire great overtaking confidence, its steering and suspension don’t feel massively dialled-in, and the four-speed automatic transmission has a whine to it that’ll bring back memories of watching the V8 Supercars cut laps in 2002.

But like I said, if you’re not looking for a car that’ll use sensors to sit you in the dead-centre of your lane while a leather seat massages your back, the Jimny’s simple nature is endearing, and most of the time quite fun.

As a side note, CarsGuide’s off-road expert Marcus Craft has published an in-depth off-road test of the Jimny XL, and gave it a thumbs up as a capable vehicle for tricky trails - it’s worth reading or watching if you’re considering the Jimny as an adventure companion.

I drove the 124 up NSW’s Old Pacific Highway from Hornsby to Gosford at dusk on a Saturday. Talk about the right car in the right place at the  right time.

It was absolutely in its element, darting around tight hairpins, then blasting up straights, giving the short shifter a thorough workout. That new exhaust added 150 per cent to the theatre of it as each aggressive down-shift was accompanied by crackling, spitting and barking.

It’s an absolute joy, a proper nod to how cars used to be in the good old days of a ‘Sunday drive’, and thus a proper nod to the 124’s history.

And, of course, it has flaws. Many of them fall into the subjective category on a car like this, however.

Take the engine, for example. I’ve heard endless criticisms of it as laggy and annoying. And it is. Catch the wrong gear and get the revs too low and no matter how hard you stomp that go pedal, you will be stuck fighting a mountain of lag. Seriously. Several seconds of it.

Even trying to ascend my steep driveway had me concerned it was simply going to stall out in first gear.

It’s a bit strange, but then when you’re on the open road it’s worth relishing the challenge that it offers. Grab the wrong gear and this car will let you know how foolish you are. And yet, when you get it right it offers a surge of excitement in the straights that’s arguably far more dramatic than either the MX-5 or 86 can muster.

Another annoyance is the speedometer. It’s tiny and counts 30km/h increments all the way up to 270km/h. How fast was I going, officer? No idea. I have about two inches to tell whether I’m going between 30 and 90, so it’s anyone’s guess.

An obvious benefit of the MX-5 chassis is its go-kart handling, and it seems as though the excellent, fast and direct steering hasn’t been messed with, either. Sure, the suspension is a little crashy, and the convertible chassis a tad rattly, but it’s all part of being that much closer to the road. It would be tough to ask to find a better transmission with its fast, short action and sensible ratios.

Ultimately, the 124 is just plain (literally) old-fashioned weekend fun, offering a challenging but rewarding drive.

No Abarth model carries a current ANCAP safety rating, although the MX-5 this car shares most of its underpinnings with carries a maximum five-star rating, as of 2016.

Feature-wise, you get dual front and side airbags, “active head restraints”, seatbelt pre-tensioners and something called “active pedestrian protection”. The regular suite of stability controls are also present, alongside a reversing camera and sensors.

There’s no auto emergency braking (AEB - which has now become an ANCAP requirement), active cruise or any lane-assist technologies, but the ‘Visibility Pack’ standard on the Monza edition adds Rear Cross Traffic Alert (RCTA) and Blind Spot Monitoring (BSM).

Four airbags and rudimentary active safety is a let-down, but probably not one that this car’s target audience will particularly care about.

The Jimny XL’s covered by Suzuki’s five-year/unlimited kilometre warranty, with intervals every 12 months or 15,000km, whichever comes first.

The services range from costing $349 to $589, but average out at $453 per service. You’ll spend $2265 servicing your Jimny XL over its first five years, assuming you do it by the books (as they’re currently written).

It’s a shame that the 124 is only offered from Abarth with a three-year 150,000km warranty. Its counterpart MX-5 is now offered with a five-year unlimited promise, and Fiat could really do with a bit of positive warranty coverage right now.

You’ll need to service the 124 once a year or every 15,000km. Capped price servicing? Ha. No such thing over at Abarth, apparently. You’re on your own.