Honda Civic Type R v Mini Cooper S v VW Golf GTi 2007 Comparison

Classic. Defined as 'the highest quality', it's the most overused adjective in the car industry. Was, is, will be ... a classic. The reality is a disappointingly high percentage of cars are over-hyped and underwhelming once you get up close and personal.

Of the three contenders here, only one deserves to be called a classic, and that's the Volkswagen Golf GTI. It revitalised the hot-hatch segment and reminded the world VW could still build entertaining cars - after all, Wolfsburg invented the category with the original GTI back in 1975.

Since it came to Australia in mid-'05, Wheels has pitched the fifth-generation GTI against a stream of competition, and it's soundly beaten them all. Everything, from the BMW 120i Sport to the Mazda 3 MPS, has succumbed to its torque-laden, direct-injection 2.0-litre turbo engine - and supple yet responsive front-wheel-drive chassis, quality interior trimmings, decent equipment levels and sub-$40K pricing.

Fresh to this latest fray is BMW's second-generation Mini Cooper S, a car that pays homage to another bona fide classic. On sale since March, the R56 Munich Mini grows oh-so-slightly and trades supercharging for turbocharging. But, crucially, it sticks true to the zesty, retro themes that have brought massive global sales success.

And what about this egg-shaped three-door, with its jet-fighter nose, flared guards and imposing rear wing? It bears the classic red Honda badge that signifies a Type R, the most focused road cars the Japanese marque builds.

It's the third-gen Civic to wear the badge but the first Civic Type R we've seen in Oz. Of course, we were exposed to Type R courtesy of successive Integras - the first ('99-'01) we loved; the second ('01-'04) ended the affair. Now the Civic is here to rekindle the flame.

In a slight variation from previous outings, our GTI is the lithesome, sexy three-door, on sale since last November. There is no technical or equipment change of significance compared with the five-door, but the price is $1500 lower at $38,490 for this six-speed manual tranny version. The Mini is actually the upper-specification Chilli, priced at a hefty $43,500, but apart from 17-inch wheels, it's technically identical to the regular $39,900 Cooper S six-speed manual.

The Type R also clocks in at $39,990 and comes only with a six-speed manual shifter, which makes it one of the more expensive hot-hatches without a premium badge. But then it is built in the UK - like the Mini - making the business case a touch-and-go affair.

Nevertheless, Honda has been able to fit the expected six airbags, ABS, traction and stability control, and a smattering of luxuries including cruise and dual-zone climate control.

But it misses one key item standard on the others: forced induction. Instead, a combination of variable valve timing, cam phasing, polished ports, lightweight internals and sophisticated software produce steepling revs and impressive power. The 2.0-litre K20A engine delivers its peak 148kW at 7800rpm and 193Nm at 5600rpm.

Compare that to the Golf's 147kW at 5100rpm and 280Nm produced between 1800rpm and 5000rpm - its dyno chart is as flat as a diving board. The Mini is equally impressive considering it's employing only 1.6 litres, albeit a brand new BMW/PSA co-development, boosted by twin-scroll turbocharging and direct injection. There's 128kW at 5500rpm and 240Nm between 1600rpm and 5000rpm. And there's even an extra 20Nm available for brief periods on overboost.

The dry facts promise much. Transfer to the driver's seat and they are resoundingly reinforced, emphasised, underlined and even overwhelmed. Honda's PR spin insists this is a more user-friendly engine than before, and there's credence to that because it's hardly stuttering and farting at lower revs.

But it's still a thrill when the i-VTEC engine makes the transition to high-lift, long-duration cam timing at 5400rpm. Below that the engine is cheeky, offering a suggestive, sharp edge. But cross the line and it snarls, invading the cabin with feral urgency and tingling vibrations. It sounds like a Super Tourer on the prowl.

Lights blink on the sculpted sci-fi dash signalling that rev thresholds have been crested and gearchanges are due. Were due, because you've already snatched another gear and started the whole feral urge thing again. It feels fast, sounds fast and ... erm ... isn't that fast.

At 1345kg the Type R is no lightweight, and without a deep well of torque it lacks the ability to haul itself to high speed all that quickly. High revs are a different story. But even an amazingly short 5.062 final-drive ratio allied to the short-throw, close-ratio transmission can't hope to get it through the low and mid-range as quickly as its turbo rivals.

The figures verify the story. The Civic is well behind both turbos in the 0-100km/h Vbox run, even though it launches cleanly enough. In the 80-120km/h in-gear rolling test it's absolutely hammered. It's at its most competitive over 400m, closing in as that shrieking top-end comes into play.

But the funny thing is that in the real world it doesn't feel as bad as it reads. The electronic throttle is amazingly immediate, the gearchange decisive and rarely temperamental, and the clutch co-operative. Accelerating from 2500rpm in third gear is no torture, because even by then, 90 percent of the torque is available. And once you hit 5400rpm, it's hammer time.

To get there you'll probably be using the shifter about three times as often as in the opposition. Handy, then, that it's mounted so nicely in the upswept forward section of the centre console, falling easily to hand just aft of the dash.

Have another look at the performance figures and you'll see that the Mini is outstanding. Its lighter weight (although 1205kg is hardly skeletal) and lag-free delivery allows it to jump quicker to 60km/h than the Golf. The VW fights back as speeds rise, but the Mini is also quickest in the 80-120km/h fifth and sixth gear tests. Yep, this engine is smooth, linear, accessible and oh-so flexible.

It's also economical, leading the test with a 10.3L/100km average (against a 6.9L/100km ADR claim). The Honda and VW virtually tied on 11.16 and 11.17L/100km respectively.

The Mini's engine doesn't offer the Civic's aural stimulus (even if the airbox is rammed up against the firewall), or even the whine and over-run burble of its Chrysler-built predecessor. But that it's a great engine is undoubted. Like the Golf, it almost reduces gear selection to an option - although the mechanical and accurate snick-snick of its Getrag 'box makes it the nicest to use here. Pity, then, that the clutch engagement is the narrowest and most sensitive, and the electronic throttle quite dead when just cracked; stalls were not common, but happened more than once.

The Mini's lack of cubic displacement does hurt it eventually in the top-end. A dramatically undersquare design (ie the bore is smaller than the stroke), it runs out of meaningful puff by 5500rpm, allowing the Golf to motor on by with at least another useable 1000rpm to exploit.

The centrepiece upon which the Golf GTI's dominance of the hot-hatch class has been built is an outstanding engine. Boost kicks in just a little later than the Mini - we're talking shins rather than bootstraps - and then rolls on for an eternity before showing any sign of waning enthusiasm.

It's a pure and simple joy to line up the exit of a corner, tramp the throttle and surf onto the next straight to the accompaniment of a meaty soundtrack. Backed up by a neat, accurate manual shift, this is a class-leading drivetrain. Sure there are more powerful, faster rivals going around, but none that are as smooth and easy to use.

And it's this ease of use that continues when the Golf encounters winding, challenging hot-hatch roads. There's grip, there's control and there's surety enough to inspire confidence, if not shots of adrenaline.

The specs read right - firmed dampers and springs, fatter roll bars, 15mm lower ride height and low-profile 17in rubber - but the outcome isn't quite scalpel sharp. There's a layer that sits between driver and road diminishing steering feel, and a tendency for the outside front tyre to roll under when turn-in is aggressive.

Make no mistake, this is a car with decently high limits, but it's not as focused or as good at controlling shifting weight as the opposition here. It felt slightly under-damped and looser, something disappointingly emphasised by some squeaks and body vibrations. Nevertheless, this is a car that can be driven vice-free, day-to-day, anywhere, any time.

Unlike the Mini. Two issues blighted it on our lumpy, cruelly cambered, dry-damp-wet Wheels test route. Firstly, the front-end was compromised by overly-sensitive steering that simply responded too fast and too dramatically to inputs.

That's even without the sport button engaged which sharpens steering (as well as throttle) responses. Its new electric steering was also the most prone to torque steer and kickback, something from which the other two were well isolated. Then there's the lack of suspension travel that simply stopped the dampers and springs absorbing road flaws, particularly in the uprated multi-link rear-end. Combined with run-flat tyres, the ride was truly uncomfortable. Two-up it was even worse...

As a result, the Cooper's dynamics left us cold. The car simply did not grip the road with enough surety to drive with enthusiasm. In fact, it was bad enough to prompt a re-check of tyre pressures and make us wonder whether the travel chocks had been left in the springs. The drivetrain deserves far better accompaniment.

Which is what the Civic Type R's lowered, firmed chassis delivers, straddling the middle line between the Golf's pliancy and the Mini's harshness. Okay, it's a hot-hatch, so the ride is going to be on the firm side. But even the new generation's use of a torsion beam rear suspension, rather than its predecessor's IRS, does not cruel its abilities.

The Type R corners with flat surety, resists understeer determinedly, brakes with authority and responds to steering inputs with alacrity. The steering could offer more true feel, but its weighting is joyously meaty for an electric system and you are never in doubt where the wheels are pointing.

The Type R is significantly and confidently quicker through tight corners than its rivals here, and feels more stable in open sweepers, too - it's mid-mounted fuel tank no doubt aids balance. Despite riding on big 18in alloys and lowered suspension, it's also the most comfortable. Someone has done a simply superb job of suspension tuning.

But cohesion is why the Type R transcends good to great. The driver is entwined intrinsically with chassis and engine. And the result is beyond mere fun. It's laugh-out loud, grin-inducing, soul-satisfying. Our slithering monsoonal cornering shots bear that out; the Type R was balanced and responsive even when being horrifically abused. All this control and no sign of a limited-slip diff. Impressive.

Okay, the torsion beam does start to get a little bouncy in rough corners at frantic speeds, and the front-end rebound a little sharp in the same circumstances, but we're nit-picking here. On our test roads the Golf is clinical and the Mini regrettable; the Honda is absorbed and engrossing.

Not all driving can be so pleasurable, but the Type R can live beyond the sharp end. Driving it in the humdrum world is a chore the slower and more congested traffic gets, but it's not impossible. It's not even that noisy when off the cam, and road noise seems no more intrusive than the other two. What's more of an issue is its large 12.3-metre turning circle.

Inside, the split-level dash dominates but works well once you adapt to the shock of the new - the digital speedo is virtually a head-up display, for example. The red/black tombstone front seats grip beautifully and add to the sense of cohesion. The rear seat is adult-friendly and boot space ample, growing to enormous once the bench is split-folded down in one easy motion. The main letdown is the cheap and hard-feeling plastic surfaces that sweep across the dash.

The Golf is similarly flexible, and the quality of materials is higher than those found in the Civic, but the interior lacks the drama and colour variation. From the driver's seat there is nothing special, apart from the flat-bottomed steering wheel. In fact, the instrument pod is crying out for a 'hero' gauge, as the centre space is a blank and the speedo numerals are too small. Optional leather sports seats are semi-bolstered and comfortable, but can't match those in the Honda.

The Mini is, of course, the try-hard of the trio. Its exterior look is unique and iconic, but almost cartoonish. Inside, colours, shapes and angles leap about the cockpit. The central focus is the enormous speedo, but it's too far from the driver's eyeline to be scanned often (a digital readout in the steering column-mounted tacho does the job more efficiently). The seats are the least supportive and space the tightest in the front, rear and boot. In reality, the Mini continues to be more 2+2 than true four-seater.

These internal compromises, added to the sub-standard ride and over-reactive steering, ensure the Mini misses out in this comparo. Its engine is superb, but that's not enough. Having said that, there's no doubt these criticisms won't discourage a single buyer from plonking their dollars down. It's not a classic but it does have plenty of character.

To some extent that is the Golf's problem - it's prodigious talents are veiled modestly. Convincing technically, well equipped, well priced, fast and as user-friendly as you could hope for, it's the sensible rather than passionate choice. It's a classic all right, but it's not the winner.

No, that's the Civic Type R. This is that rare car that is so unified it becomes something greater than the sum of its parts. It's a true hot-hatch; it's the one that leaves you wanting more - and more and more. Is it a classic? Let time decide that one. But for now there's no doubt it's bloody great drive.

Images:Cristian Brunelli

Track: Tooradin Airfield, dry. Temp: 8°C. Driver: Maurie Platt
* Estimated or manufacturer's claim