Mini Cooper vs Renault Clio

What's the difference?

It’s reassuring to realise that the British-built Mini’s German masters have not stood still over the past eight years.

This second facelift of the third-generation Cooper three-door hatch has freshened up the appearance on the outside, improved the look inside and provided a refined yet dynamic driving experience that fits in with the British brand’s reputation.

But the real shock is how reasonably priced the Classic Plus package is, especially when you consider that the Mini provides a truly unique proposition that’s backed by reassuringly high-quality BMW engineering.

A Cooper offering decent value-for-money? In 20 years, that’s certainly a first worth celebrating.   

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.

Yes, even after all these years. After all, BMW’s Mini has been more successful commercially than BMC’s original ever managed, primarily due to a massive uptake in the United States and China.

You can see why. The pert bug-eyed looks, frameless doors, chunky cabin, circular interior themes and, of course, the reputation put it in a unique place amongst today’s far more homogenised small car alternatives.

Interestingly, the most recent update in early 2021 has resulted in a sleek and more-focused look that moves away from the over-the-top caricature of previous iterations, though the black band around the nose cone might take some getting used to. Even the OTT Union Jack tail-light LEDs seem toned down.

And, like we said, there’s nothing like it on the market anymore. Once upon a time, close (if not exactly direct) opponents included the Alfa Romeo Mito, Audi A3 three-door, Honda CR-Z, Hyundai Veloster, Peugeot 208 GTi, Volkswagen Beetle… but they’re all gone.

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.

From the moment you open the light yet solid front door, it’s obvious that the Mini is a different type of small car.

The frameless doors give it a hardtop feel, though it’s a shame the necessary thick B-pillar doesn’t allow for the rear windows to find down for a truly ‘60s American hardtop-style open side experience.

The Classic Plus’ standard front seats are a highlight. Superbly supportive and with extensive adjustment permutations so even taller and heftier folk can find the right position, they help create a snug yet not cramped environment, with a low, focused driving position that’s easy to get comfy behind thanks to endless column and seat adjustability. One does peer over that bulky dashtop though.

The 5.0-inch black-panel instrumentation redesign does much to reduce the old Mini tweeness inside, with motorcycle-style digitised analogue-look dials and fresh new graphics and functionality (with new ‘favourites’ shortcuts added) for the rectangular centre multimedia screen. Based on BMW’s excellent iDrive system, it’s all easy and intuitive to operate.

However, that dash is looking old and messy now, with its small letter-box screen and messy buttons, though the toggle switchgear is pleasant to operate and adds to the Mini’s sense of occasion too. The kerbside mirror won’t automatically dip in reverse, and Android Auto users aren’t accommodated like Apple CarPlay users are.

Still, storage is sufficient for most peoples’ needs as long as the things they need put away aren’t too large, backed up by a foldable armrest-cum-cubby and handy pair of big cupholders ahead of the gear lever – which is an ex-BMW design that takes a minute to get used to but works just fine.

For a three-door four-seater coupe, practicality is better than you might imagine, aided by good all-round vision and thoughtful packaging.

Access to the rear is obviously not going to be the Hatch’s easiest party trick, but a single-action lift-up latch that slides and automatically returns the front seat back to the original spot helps enormously. It’s not too much of a struggle sliding between seat and pillar as well.

Once sat out back, you’ll find a firm but inviting bench and backrest (for two), a pair of cupholders and map pockets, a trio of cupholders as well as elbow rests incorporated into the side panels. All double up as receptacles for odds and ends. Lots of glass and those upright pillars impart a surprisingly spacious feel.

Speaking of back-seat room, because it’s only a two-seater configuration, there’s a welcome amount of acreage for elbows, shoulders and bottoms, while legroom isn’t too bad for a 178cm adult sat behind themselves. There’s nothing cramped or oppressive in the Classic Plus we’re in, save perhaps for the endless black trim.

However, betraying the F56 Cooper’s age, while the front centre-armrest sited smartphone charger is accessible to rear-seat occupants, there are no USB ports of any variety or overhead lighting in this sunroof-equipped example. Nor will you find a folding centre armrest or overhead grab handles. In fact, the latter is only provided for the front-seat passenger.

Also, keep in mind that passengers cannot crack a window back there. 

Further back, a can of goo in lieu of a spare wheel means the boot floor is deeper than you might imagine, with a small compartment below the second floor for added hidden storage. Beyond that, it’s an F56 Mini, so a 211L capacity and a pair of 60:40-folding backrests into the cabin as your lot luggage-capacity wise.

If you want practicality Mini offers the F55 5DR Hatch (278L) or our favourite of the lot, the lovely Clubman with 360L. Or if you don’t mind your Mini looking like a gargoyle, the Countryman extends that again to between 405L and 450L depending on rear-seat position.

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.

One of the stronger petrol engine families of the last decade is BMW’s B-series modular in-line units, in B38 1.2-litre and 1.5-litre three-cylinder, B48 2.0-litre four-cylinder and B58 3.0-litre six-cylinder formats.

The Cooper uses the B38A15M1, meaning a 1499cc 1.5-litre three-pot turbo featuring an aluminium block and head, a twin-scroll turbocharger, direct injection, variable valve lift (Valvetronic) and variable valve timing (Double VANOS).

It pumps 100kW of power at a peaky 6500rpm and 220Nm of torque from just 1480rpm to 4100rpm ­– enough for a 0-100km/h dash time of 8.2 seconds on the way to a 210km/h top speed.

Mounted transversely, it drives the front wheels via a seven-speed dual-clutch transmission (DCT) dubbed Steptronic in Mini-speak – a switch from earlier F56 examples from a few years back that used a six-speed torque-converter auto. The floor shifter has the typically-BMW back for up/forward for down shift pattern. For paddle shifters you need to step up to the Cooper S with the B48 2.0-litre engine.

The Mini’s UKL1 platform (Untere Klasse, German for ‘lower class’) modular architecture is spread between the F55 (5DR), F56 (3DR) and F57 (Convertible) models, and employs MacPherson-style struts up front and a multi-link rear end. A longer version of this also underpins the larger Mini Clubman and Countryman as well as BMW’s 1 Series, 2 Series (not coupe and convertible), X1 and X2.

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.

Running on 95 RON premium unleaded petrol, our Cooper managed a worthy 7.1L/100km in a fairly demanding mix of heavy urban commuting traffic and higher-speed performance testing. The trip computer was showing high-6s, so it wasn’t far off the truth.

The official figure should average out at 5.6L/100km, for a carbon dioxide emissions rating of 128 grams per kilometre. With a 44L fuel tank, the potential range-average is 785km.

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.

In a word, feisty.

Though only a three-pot turbo, the charming B38 1.5-litre engine is one of the best of the breed, offering a broad performance spectrum that allows it to rev cleanly and pull strongly all the way to the 7000rpm limit.

Additionally, the auto shuffles between its seven forward ratios seamlessly, for super-smooth progress.

However, around town, there is the usual momentary DCT hesitation from standstill, which can be quite frustrating if you’re in a hurry. Once that and the turbo wakes up, the Cooper will surge ahead with impressive determination, but instantaneous acceleration isn’t in this Mini’s repertoire. The previous, old six-speed torque-converter auto was far more immediate to throttle inputs.  

Note that selecting Sport in the drive mode kicks things along a little more urgently. As such, and at this price point, we’d like to see a pair of paddle shifters to add to that experience, especially now as there’s no manual gearbox on offer. The 'Green' eco mode, on the other hand, throttles things back to a slightly more leisurely pace to conserve fuel.

Minis are renowned for their direct steering and sharp handling, and the Cooper doesn’t disappoint.

At parking speeds, there’s heaps of electric assistance to make manoeuvring about easy – and don’t forget about the standard park assist system to lend a helping hand here – while out on the open road, the flat, precise and confident cornering imparts a wonderful sense of security and connection with the road that, for keener driver, is worth the price of entry alone.

Never nervous, yet always alive in your hands. Assisted by grippy Goodyear Eagle 205/45R17 rubber, you feel the expensive engineering going on underneath to keep everything in order and precisely where the driver needs the car to be. Even when caned along.

But… you also feel the at-times firm ride over the ragged urban streetscapes that Coopers will undoubtedly traverse most days, though it isn’t as abrupt or choppy as in previous iterations with this-sized wheel/tyre package. Plus, coarse bitumen surfaces make for a fair amount of road noise intrusion at times.

That said, if your regular commute takes in fresh, smooth roads, then the Mini shines.

If all this sounds awfully familiar, then keep in mind that the Cooper is very much a baby BMW in behaviour as well as demeanour.

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.

Like BMW, Mini offers a three-year/unlimited kilometre warranty, which trails Mercedes-Benz’s five years and behind the seven-year unconditional warranty pioneered by Kia. A three-year roadside assistance package is also included.

Additionally, the car tells the owner/driver when it needs servicing, meaning it is condition-based rather than time-based scheduling. In the UK, it is generally recommended every 12 months or 10,000km is a good rule of thumb, just to be safe.

Owners can also purchase a five-year/80,000km service plan to help save money.

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.