Chery Tiggo 8 PRO MAX vs Mercedes-Benz V-Class

What's the difference?

This mid-sized seven-seat SUV segment is dominated by just a handful of nameplates, and it’s easy to see how some of them might be under threat by something like the Chery Tiggo 8 Pro Max.

There are a few areas where it could use some fine-tuning, but these are mainly restricted to being pedantic about the drive experience. There are no dealbreakers here as there often can be for low-cost alternatives, and so long as you’re primarily putting kids in the back seats, this Tiggo is well equipped, comfortable, plush, and surprisingly refined.

With a robust ownership proposition as well, it’s hard to see why you wouldn’t consider one of these if you’re shopping in the seven-seat SUV space - and that's why this could be Chery's shot at the big leagues.

The Mercedes-Benz V-Class, and in particular the Mercedes-Benz V220d, lives up to the notion of a luxury people-mover – for the most part. The leaking door is a concern, but may be confined to this vehicle only.

But in most every other way it has the whole prestige bus thing sorted. There is no denying that a more affordable van from a less, shall we say, desirable brand would do just as good a job.

But if you need to be seen to be offering the most luxurious people-mover you can buy in Australia, then you really ought to be looking at the V-Class…. just maybe go for the V250d, if the budget can stretch that far.

The Tiggo 8 Pro Max just looks like a mid-size SUV. Perhaps if you calculated the average design cues of every mid-size SUV on the market, this would be what you end up with.

Of all the Chinese automakers currently in the market though, the Tiggo range of SUVs are the least controversial. There’s no weird theme to the design, there’s no bizarre light fittings or controversial angles. You could stick a badge on this car from any Korean or Japanese brand and you wouldn’t think twice about it.

It doesn’t say much for innovation, but I think it will very much work in this car's favour. It provides a much more globally appealing look when compared to the controversial design of BYD products, the crazy grilles and badging on GWM products, or the derivative style of the MG range.

For this reason it won’t turn heads at the school drop-off, but that’s perfect for families who want to run incognito and would normally buy a conservative mainstream SUV from Toyota or Mitsubishi.

Inside things get a bit more interesting. The Tiggo 8 has a contemporary design, complete with a high-riding bridge-style console, and the dual-screens are encased in a single housing that spans half the length of the dash.

It’s ambitious too, with generous amounts of soft-touch surfaces and synthetic leather finishes. Clearly, it’s inspired by others in the industry. The dual-screen layout is very Hyundai or Kia via Mercedes, while the Benz influence extends to the wood grain-look plastic inserts and even the little silver finishes covering the speakers up. Rather than a naff knock-off though, the Chery interior genuinely feels its own space.

The only areas that you can see through the facade to a car built-to-a price is in a handful of places. The steering wheel buttons, for instance, feel a bit cheap, and when it comes to those big screens, the resolution isn’t as high as you might expect, and the processing isn’t as fast as it could be, leading to a slightly laggy experience.

Still, the same can be said for many mainstream manufacturers, and at least Chery’s native software has been localised and is easy to navigate. Also, none of this stops the Chery from feeling properly plush on the inside. It was also seemingly pretty well put together, free of rattles, switchgear with too much play, or nasty hollow plastics.

First impressions are good.

This doesn’t look like your everyday Mercedes-Benz commercial van – the V-Class is certainly more at home parked in the driveway of a luxury hotel than alongside the back door in the alley behind it. 

Admittedly it isn’t as attractive as the Avantgarde flagship, but it has the whole Benz ‘family look’ thing going on, with a stylish grille, swept headlights and a streamlined body. A box on wheels it may be, but it’s a box with nicely rounded edges.

The 17-inch, five-spoke alloy wheels are plain, and the halogen headlights and daytime running lights don’t have quite the same wow factor as the LED units in the high-end model, but it wears that Benz badge loud and proud. And the extremely dark tinted rear windows ensure the privacy of your occupants, as well as giving off the vibe of high-end plush.

I know it’s hard to stray from the formula for a van, but I particularly like the back end of the V-Class – it is reminiscent of the original Vito, with low, broad-set tail-lights and a near-flat backside with a huge tailgate, which doubles as an awning to stand under if the weather is a bit Melbourne. 

The interior is typical Benz, or, in the case of the V220d, Benz on a slight budget.

The interior is also thoughtfully designed, but it needs to compete with user-friendly cars like the Honda CR-V and Nissan X-Trail in this segment.

The front occupants are treated to a reasonably spacious cabin, which for the driver is quite adjustable, although the design of the dash means it sticks out into the front passenger’s knee area. Head and shoulder space is impressive, and everywhere you put your arms or knees there’s a soft-clad finish rather than hard plastic to greet you.

As already mentioned, the software isn’t half bad when it comes to ease-of-use, however the lack of tactile toggles or dials for the climate unit is a bit of a miss. It has its own dedicated set of touch controls below the screen itself, but they provide no tactile feedback, so are a little hard to use while on the move.

Storage is great, with large pockets and bottle-holders in the doors, a further two bottle holders in the centre console, a wireless phone charger, and a neat little set of drive mode buttons and a digital shift lever within easy reach.

The bridge-style console also offers a large pass-through area underneath for the storage of larger items, and there’s a deep centre armrest console box, too.

The second row is quite versatile, offering rail adjustment for the base, so you can maximise the room available to the third row if need be.

Second-row occupants (with the seats set to a decent position for myself at 182cm tall) have plenty of knee room and plenty of headroom, and the doors open nice and wide for the loading of objects or people.

Storage includes large pockets on the backs of the front seats, a bottle holder in each door, and a further two in the drop-down armrest. There is a set of adjustable air vents on the back of the centre console, with both a USB-A and USB-C port for power delivery.

The third row is a bit more challenging. I had to contort myself to get in with the second row seat either slid forward or folded flat. Once I was in there, I was surprised to find I fit, but only just.

My knees were hard up against the seat in front, while my head was touching the roof. Mercifully, I had enough room to slide my feet under the seat in front, otherwise it would’ve been too tight. It’s passable for adults then, but only in a pinch, and you wouldn’t want to be back there for long. No problem if you’re just putting kids back there though.

The third row gets air vents on either side with an independent fan speed controller on the mid-grade Elite and top-spec Ultimate, and there’s a useful storage tray, and small bottle holder on each side. You don’t get USB ports, but there’s a 12 volt outlet available just behind the rear seats in the boot.

On the topic of the boot, it is not as large as I was hoping, but then neither is the car itself.

The boot measures 479 litres with the second-row up, or just 117-litres with all seven seats deployed. It’s smaller than some mid-size rivals, but not enough for it to be a dealbreaker. We’ll get it back for a longer test to see what does and does not fit.

The floor is quite high to facilitate those fold-flat rear seats, and there’s a small under-floor storage tray where you can hide the retractable luggage cover on the Urban and Elite variants. Unfortunately the Ultimate gets a subwoofer here.

All variants get a space-saver spare wheel mounted outside underneath the car, so at least you don’t need to deal with a tyre repair kit.

With the optional eight-seat setup, it’d be hard to think of this van as impractical. And if you consider that it also has a boot capacity of 1030L in its most downsized form (and 4630L with the rear seats removed), any argument seems null and void.

The fact the boot is electrically operated, and that it has a separate tailgate glass opening section, and that you can open the boot using the keyfob – not to mention the kerbside door – just adds to the pragmatic appeal of this van.

The six rear seat backs can all be flattened down, and you can tumble them forward, too – the kerbside seats in a one-by-one motion, the driver’s side ones tumble two-at-a-time. It takes a bit of muscle to do those ones.

Essentially you can set it up as a parcel van if you want, or even as a mobile office – the rear seats can be configured to face each other, in ‘conference’ style. But you need to know that this isn’t an easy process, and once you’ve got it set how you want it, you’ll probably end up just leaving it as is.

Loose-item storage isn’t great, but at least the door pockets are large enough for some bottles and documents.

No matter which way you like it, those in the back will have good ventilation (it has a three-zone climate control system with a separate fan controller in the back above the second-row seats), and a decent amount of space. Crucially, there are no cup or bottle-holders, nor any loose item storage in the back two rows – there are mesh nets on the backrests of the very front seats, but that’s it.

If you plan to use this as a mover of smaller people, the V-Class’s child-seat anchor-point game will not disappoint. It has four ISOFIX anchors (two in each row) and six top tether points – yep, every spot in the back!

Up front there’s a problem with the cup-holder situation, too – there are two, but they’re way down on the floor, meaning it’s hard to access your cuppa on the move. In fact, loose-item storage isn’t great, but at least the door pockets are large enough for some bottles and documents. There’s a sunglass holder, too. The little media screen is a bit disappointing in its size, and the Comand controller codpiece that juts out from the centre console can take some getting used to.

Connecting and reconnecting a phone isn’t too difficult (although you have to pair audio streaming separately to phone streaming – which is weird), and there’s no extended smartphone capability such as Apple CarPlay or Android Auto. Using the navigation system is very simple, but the graphics are extremely aftermarket looking – that’s no bad thing, because Benz’s maps always looked a bit 1990s, but these ones are somewhat cartoonish.

There are two V-Class models you can buy;  this newly added V220d variant, at $74,990, or the high-spec V250d Avantgarde, which is listed at $87,200.

That’s a pretty huge difference, especially considering you get plenty of equipment in the lower-spec version. To get a better understanding, let’s list off what’s standard, and what you get if you fork out the extra $12,210 for the top model.

The V220d has a 7.0-inch media screen with Garmin maps, dual USB ports, Bluetooth phone and audio streaming, auto headlights and wipers, DAB+ digital radio, CD, auxiliary and SD input, electric parking brake, electric front-seat adjustment with memory settings, cruise control, colour driver information screen with digital speedometer, black leather trim and sports pedals.

There’s three-zone climate control and velour floor mats up front, too, while parking moves are made easy with the brand’s Active Parking Assist system, which can semi-autonomously park the van for you. Other niceties include front and rear parking sensors, a reversing camera, dark tinted rear glass, heated/folding/auto-dimming side mirrors, and electric side doors and tailgate (with opening glass section).

Stepping up to the V250d sees the addition of a 15-speaker Burmester sound system, ambient lighting (three colours), a higher-resolution 8.0-inch media screen with integrated Wi-Fi hotspot and online access and navigation with live traffic updates, a 360-degree surround-view camera, adaptive cruise control, illuminated door sills in stainless steel, a rear parcel shelf, 18-inch alloy wheels, anodised roof rails, a body kit, chrome exterior trimming, LED adaptive headlights with automated high-beam and LED daytime running lights, and tyre-pressure monitoring.

There’s some separation between the two in terms of engines as well – see below for more detail on that.

And for a little bit of context, there are no other luxury-branded people-movers out there. Buyers may consider alternatives like the Volkswagen Multivan Executive at $83,390 (wait, how much?), but in all honesty, if you can forego the badge and just want space for your money, the Kia Carnival Platinum ($61,290) offers a considerably better value equation.

The car we tested had the optional roof rails ($649) and parking system with surround-view camera ($616) fitted, and was an eight-seat model rather than a seven-seater, which adds $1346 to the price.

There is only one engine option in the Tiggo 8 Pro Max range, a 2.0-litre turbocharged four-cylinder petrol unit that produces 180kW/375Nm.

No matter which variant you choose, it’s also mated to a seven-speed dual-clutch automatic transmission. The Urban and Elite variants are front-wheel drive, while the Ultimate scores a Borg-Warner-sourced all-wheel-drive system with additional off-road drive modes.

The outputs are more than competitive with a lot of rivals, but there’s no fuel-saving hybrid option in the line-up just yet. It’s something Chery wants to add in the future.

Especially for Australia, the folks at Chery also made sure to get the Tiggo 8 Pro Max certified to tow. It can do that at up to 1300kg braked, or 750kg unbraked.

Both the V220d and V250d are powered by 2.1-litre turbo diesel engines, but in differing states of tune.

The V220d has 120kW of power and 380Nm of torque, while the V250d pumps out 140kW and 440Nm. Those figures are decent given the capacity of the engine, and to help keep fuel use down it has stop-start, sadly it’s a bit grumbly and overactive.

Both run seven-speed automatic transmissions and are rear-wheel drive. The Benz vans have strong towing capability, with an unbraked towing capacity of 750kg, while it can deal with braked trailers up to 2500kg.

The 2.0-litre turbo engine has an official/combined consumption rating of 8.1L/100km for the front-wheel drive variants, or 8.7L/100km for the all-wheel drive Ultimate.

On our drive route for the day which took place on curvy country roads and expressways, my Ultimate all-wheel-drive test example produced a figure of 9.5L/100km which seems reasonable.

Unfortunately the engine also requires mid-shelf 95RON unleaded fuel, so this will push your running costs up slightly.

The Tiggo 8 Pro Max has a 57-litre fuel tank, indicating an estimated maximum cruising range of 703km for FWD variants.

Mercedes-Benz claims that over a mix of urban and highway driving, the V-Class will return 6.3 litres per 100km, no matter whether you choose the V220d or the V250d – which is pretty good given the thing is long (5140mm), wide (1928mm) and relatively heavy (almost two tonnes).

Over a lengthy drive in the V220d – some of it on a twisty mountain road, some in stop-start traffic, most on the freeway – I managed 7.2L/100km. This will rise with added bodies, but not by much.

Cars from Chinese brands often fall short of expectations when it comes to the drive experience, but the Tiggo 8 Pro Max moves everything in the right direction, and importantly it doesn’t add any deal-breaking characteristics along the way.

Visibility is great out of the cabin, with large windows all-round. The wing mirrors are great, but the centre rear-vision mirror is a quirky piece with a wide viewing angle. In a way this is great for parents, because with one glance you can see both out the rear of the vehicle and the rear seats to keep an eye on kids, but it does mess with your depth perception a bit.

On multiple occasions I felt like the car behind was tailgating, only to peer in the side mirrors to find that it was actually quite far back. Odd!

The steering is very light, and a bit disconnected as a result. While this sounds like a negative, I actually think suburban buyers who often negotiate with shopping centre parking lots, apartment towers, and school drop-offs will love it. It makes a big SUV feel really easy to steer and position.

Sure, it feels a bit doughy out on the open road, meaning it's hardly a confident corner-carver, but that’s not really the point of this car.

The engine on the other hand has loads of poke. Power of 180kW sounds like a lot because it is (once upon a time not so long ago this was well into V6 territory) and actually for the front-wheel-drive versions it might be a little bit too much power. It will readily spin the front wheels with slightly too much throttle input, which brings us nicely to the dual-clutch automatic which is responsible for communicating that power to the ground.

Dual clutches rightly raise a bit of a red flag for some because they can be particularly jerky from a standstill and have some pretty questionable gear shifts once you’re rolling. For the most part though, the Tiggo 8’s dual-clutch unit is pretty good. The brand stressed that it had done significant software tuning to this transmission to try to iron out nasty characteristics, and while it's still occasionally caught off-guard, I’ve certainly driven worse. It will occasionally produce a bucking feeling rather than a full second of lag like some rivals, but its enthusiasm to deliver power to the ground quickly gives the front-drive versions that slightly skittish feel.

It is one of those rare occasions when it’s worth splashing for the all-wheel drive. I found the Ultimate to be much more sure-footed and confident on the road, able to handle the engine’s relatively mountainous torque with ease.

On the open road I was impressed by the Tiggo 8’s level of refinement. The amount of sound entering the cabin in both variants was low, with minimal tyre roar or wind noise. Thuds from the suspension and roar from the engine under load were also pleasingly distant, even at freeway speeds.

When it comes to the ride it’s built to a certain cadence. It’s soft and comfortable, matching the semi-luxurious cabin feel nicely, but it can be a bit springy and lose a bit of body control over undulations and corrugations. Again, it’s not exactly an athlete, but then for most people, it won’t have to be.

Importantly, it filters out sharper bumps like potholes, road imperfections, and speed bumps with relative ease. It’s even better in the 2WD versions thanks to larger tyres and smaller alloy wheels.

Mercifully, the active safety systems don’t intrude on the driving experience either. Chery has apparently learned some hard lessons after the feedback it received on the overbearing lane assist equipment on the smaller Omoda 5, and applied those learnings here in the Tiggo 8.

The lane systems are still there, but they only intervene when they really have to, while warning chimes from things like the traffic sign recognition, blind spot monitoring, and driver attention alert are, at worst, background. It’s a good thing too because of all the systems, the driver attention alert is the one that triggers most often as you look away from the road to adjust the touch-based climate systems.

Where does that leave us? Actually pretty impressed. The Tiggo 8 Pro Max might not have the balancing act between ride quality and performance quite as well tuned as some of its Japanese and Korean rivals, but this is a comfortable, quiet, and refined SUV that, importantly, feels very normal. There’s no deal-breaking safety bugs, or a terrible transmission or frustrating software that takes away from the experience. Chery is learning, and it’s learning fast.

My drive saw me chauffeur my partner and our dog down to Cooma, where we then took my parents down the coast. We put the V-Class’s flexible seating to the test, as we had to buy a massive bathtub and bring it back with us. This proved that, although this thing is a luxury van, it can also be a hugely practical delivery van.

The comfort on offer was perhaps the biggest advantage for my passengers – with superb suspension composure, ride comfort and body control, the V-Class is like a big boxy limousine.

It won’t set your heart racing in corners as there’s quite a lot of body roll to contend with, but the steering is direct and very nicely weighted, making for easy progress whether you’re piloting it down a mountain pass or dealing with roundabouts or parking lots. The turning circle is small, which in turn makes the van feel smaller than it actually is.

The brakes can feel a little numb underfoot, meaning you might find yourself pushing a little harder on the pedal than you think you ought to. The response is good, though, even with weight on board.

The extra, effortless grunt of the V250d would be advantageous.

What was a little surprising was a lack of torque at higher speeds for overtaking moves. On a slightly sloping country back road with four adults on board, I expected there to be well and truly enough for a quick overtaking move – but the drivetrain didn’t quite have the grunt to get the job done. At least, not in the Comfort drive mode.

By using the ‘Dynamic’ drive selector and choosing Sport mode, there was extra push on offer – the gearing changed, and so did the throttle response – and that made overtaking moves a little easier. But still, the extra, effortless grunt of the V250d would be advantageous, and I know I wouldn’t like having to play with the drive-mode switch every time I overtook. Just leave it in Sport mode? You’ll pay the price on fuel use. 

Around town the seven-speed auto went about its job really well, offering smooth shifts in all situations. The transmission can clunk when you engage park or shift to reverse, though, which isn’t overly premium, and there is some turbo lag that you’ll have to remember when you prepare to take off from traffic lights. Another thing that didn’t necessarily persuade my passengers of the premiumness on offer was the fact that the kerbside door leaked when it was raining. Not good.

The V-Class has been awarded the highest possible ANCAP crash test score of five stars – it achieved that in 2014, based on a EuroNCAP score that was put through local screening.

It has plenty of safety kit to keep your mind at ease – whether you’re a driver or passenger.

There are six airbags, including full-length curtain coverage, and the V-Class has a reversing camera with dynamic guide lines, an adaptive electronic stability control system (ESP) with load sensitivity and cross-wind assist, rollover mitigation, trailer-sway control (when fitted with a genuine Benz towbar), hill-hold assist, flashing brake lights under emergency braking and driver-drowsiness detection.

There are other handy features, including auto headlights and rain-sensing wipers, auto-dimming interior and exterior mirrors, forward collision warning (not AEB), blind-spot monitoring, lane-keeping assist (but not with steering intervention).

You’ve got spend up to the V250d to get the adaptive cruise control system, but there’s still no AEB on that variant.

Chery offers its line-up with seven years and unlimited kilometres of warranty, seven-years of capped-price servicing, and seven years of roadside assist.

The roadside assist is topped up on a 12 monthly basis so long as you service with Chery. At the time of writing, Chery was yet to provide costings for its capped-price servicing program, but if it follows the same scheme as the Omoda 5 and Tiggo 7, it will be competitive.

Mercedes-Benz Vans backs the V-Class with a three-year/200,000km warranty plan, which is good.

The company has also introduced a new capped-price servicing plan for the V-Class, with maintenance due every 12 months or 25,000km, whichever occurs first. The fact the distance intervals are so far apart could be a bonus for business operators, but the costs are high: the first service costs $556, then the following two visits will set you back $1112 each time. Yikes.

A longer capped-price plan with lower prices would make this van a lot more attractive to business owners. A Kia Carnival could make a lot of sense in that regard, too – even business operators get a seven-year/150,000km warranty with a seven-year/105,000km capped-price plan, and the same cover for roadside assist.