Honda Integra S vs Renaultsport Clio vs Mini Cooper S 2005 Comparison

The Blazing Race

Nothing this side of a well-ridden motorcycle can beat a decent hot hatch for threading through traffic, and, not surprisingly, punters are cottoning on.

One in every two Minis sold here is a range-topping Cooper S, while a quarter of our Renault Clios are the ballsy Renaultsport variant, not the 1.4-litre base jobbie.

Where Australia's hot-hatch choices once totalled less than Liz Taylor's nuptials, today the count is closer to 20, and rising fast. In the next year alone, expect to see the Ford Fiesta ST, Suzuki Swift GTi, and Mitsubishi Colt CZT, as well as a bunch of fresh hotties further up the size scale.Nothing this side of a well-ridden motorcycle can beat a decent hot hatch for threading through traffic, and, not surprisingly, punters are cottoning on.

One in every two Minis sold here is a range-topping Cooper S, while a quarter of our Renault Clios are the ballsy Renaultsport variant, not the 1.4-litre base model.

Where Australia's hot-hatch choices once totalled less than Liz Taylor's nuptials, today the count is closer to 20, and rising fast. In the next year alone, expect to see the Ford Fiesta ST, Suzuki Swift GTi, and Mitsubishi Colt CZT, as well as a bunch of fresh hotties further up the size scale.

Either way, when it comes to pint-sized panache, it's the Renaultsport Clio 182 and Mini Cooper S that walk with a swagger. Each crams the grunt of a much larger car into a mere slip of a bodyshell, in combination with handling so sharp, it cuts. Among all the hot-hatch euphoria, the traditional sporty coupe appears to be fighting a losing battle. But fight Honda's Integra Type-S can.

It's a better car than the Type-R it replaces, with a firecracker of an engine, a fabulous gearshift and an element of subtle exclusivity to its style. But can it out-run the bulldog-on-steroids Clio, let alone out-glam the slave-to-fashion Cooper S?

Coupe style aside, entering the Integra's low-slung cabin isn't exactly a special moment. Its thickly framed doors feel light and close with an inexpensive-sounding hollowness, while the leather front seats are fairly wide, thick and luxurious, but there's no cushion tilt (only crude height adjustment), no lumbar or intermittent-wiper adjustment, no cruise control, no trip computer, and no steering-wheel controls or reach adjustment.

While general fit and finish is admirable, only the grained dash-top surface, Alfa-style vents and trick-looking white instrument dials provide any aesthetic sizzle. The lower your eyes fall, the harder, darker and cheaper the Integra becomes: witness plain-jane plastic pedals on a $43K sports coupe. And while forward vision is pretty good, the close proximity of the Integra's roof lining makes it feel intimate inside, if not claustrophobic.

The Mini immediately seems spacious after the Integra. Its wide, panoramic windscreen stands quite upright and sits well forward of the driver; the roof acting as a shady awning to protect from glare. The frameless door windows are huge, providing a very airy feel, and headroom is excellent.

You sit low and sporty behind the Mini's still-funky dash - heightening the generous feeling of head space - but the seats themselves are quite hard, and the lightweight plastics used for the column stalks, dash inserts and door mouldings are no match for the more expensive switchgear pinched from BMW.

The Cooper S scored larger door bins in its 2004 update, but the weird-looking cavities are still awkward to use and don't do a very realistic impression of metal. Likewise the scuffed dash finish. But the tweaked Mini's chunky new three-spoke steering wheel is fabulous - great to hold and so much cooler than the silly old two-spoke thing.

You wouldn't call the Clio 182's interior cool - not literally. As with every other Clio we've tested, the digital climate control struggles to keep the cabin frosty in 30-degree weather, and often has to be set at max-cool in an attempt to keep your armpits dry.

The rest of the cabin could cruelly be lumped in the polished-turd category, but that's unfair. The Renault's interior might look about as sexy as a flesh wound, but it's functional, robust and does offer a few visual thrills, such as metal pedals and satin-finish door handles.

The Clio feels narrower than its rivals, with high-set leather/alcantara seats, and a vaguely bus-like angle to its fat leather wheel. But it's wonderfully form fitting. The seats themselves are the grippiest and most comfortable here (despite poor lumbar adjustment); the steering wheel is a delight to guide and its gearshift falls perfectly to hand.

Its origins might be humble, but with spot-on pedal placement and great vision the Clio 182 has all the basics for a brilliant road-attack weapon.

And that's the 182 to a tee. This car isn't about touchy-feely surfaces and pretty colour combos. It's about tickling the adrenal glands. Once warm, the Clio's Renaultsport-tuned 131kW four pleases the moment you touch the right pedal.

Peak torque of 200Nm doesn't impact until 5250rpm, but there's plenty on offer from 2500rpm, and stacks of it fleshing out the mid-range, making Clio's gear deficit largely redundant.

Breach four grand and the feisty frog's rich-sounding vibrato deepens, followed quickly by a valve-timing change and an acceleration kick at 5200rpm - tugging at the front wheels before whacking the 7200rpm rev limiter so fast, you've got to be ready.

With 7kW more power than before, arriving 250rpm higher, the latest Renaultsport Clio is more ferocious in its upper reaches, all without jeopardising its benchmark driveability.

The Honda plays a similar tune, but a less polished, noticeably more raucous one. Due to its stratospheric rev ceiling, the Integra is geared much lower than its rivals, and needs to be because all of its muscle arrives above 6000rpm. Hit six grand and the Type-S explodes - its angry, animalistic induction blare screaming like Robert Plant all the way to eight-four.

Up to 100km/h, the Integra eyeballs the Clio, but with 23kW more power and tighter gearing, it then surges ahead. Not that we have the numbers to prove it, though, due to a computer stuff-up. Either way, despite much work attempting to dampen Integra's intrusive NVH, the i-VTEC four buzzes through its pedals and makes a substantial racket when caned.

Stay below six-grand, though, and the Integra's engine is smooth, tractable and quite refined. It doesn't have the Clio's torque, and requires frequent use of its gear lever, but the Type-S is blessed with great throttle response, a light-yet-feelsome clutch and one of the best gearshifts in existence. Its action is beautifully free from inertia and super-positive, with a lightness of movement unmatched by its rivals, although the Clio's fast, oiled, if slightly weightier, shift comes close.

The Cooper S's supercharged 1.6 is markedly different in character to the naturally-aspirated Integra and Clio engines. While there is a swelling of torque as boost kicks in at about 2500rpm, and a mild upshift in intensity as the tacho swings past 5000rpm, the Mini's engine defines the term 'linear'. Which makes it sound kinda boring, though it's actually anything but.

The endearing blower noise that mimics the original Mini's gear whine is still there, but the S's cute, twin-piped central exhaust sounds fruitier than ever - crackling and popping on overrun and provoking a wide smile.

Alterations in last year's Mini update centred around a reprogrammed engine management system, increasing power to 125kW (up 5) and torque to 220Nm (up 10). Better still, the old S's weak off-the-line throttle response is now much sharper, no doubt aided by substantially lower gear ratios (first now does 9.0 kays per 1000rpm, not 10.1).

The difference is immediate. The latest Cooper S is roughly a second quicker from
80-120km/h in every gear, and really impresses with its effortless muscle. However, its gearshift isn't in the same league, proving notchy and noticeably less pleasurable than the superb shifts in the Integra and Clio.

And the Mini's fuel consumption isn't good - 23 per cent thirstier on test than the Clio. The Mini's best figure (10.7L/100km) was equal to the Integra's worst. Its thirstiest was a poor 13.3L/100km.

Dynamically, the contest is close, but with a clear-cut winner. Simply put, the Clio 182 operates on a higher plane than the Mini and Integra. Aided by its now-larger 205/45R16 footprint, the carving Clio is able to carry more speed through a corner, feeling noticeably grippier and more confident than its two rivals.

Turn-in is rapid and beautifully precise, while balance is top-shelf. The Clio has very little understeer, and incisive adjustability via the throttle to make it highly entertaining on tight roads, without biting (even with ESP off).

The Clio's steering kicks back and stiffens a little when pushing hard through bumpy corners, but it has a gorgeous ability to add a supple ride to its handling brilliance. The Clio's urban calm is surprisingly good for a hot hatch, as is its mid-corner bump absorbency. In terms of mixing entertainment with comfort, nothing beats it.

The Mini is much stiffer in roll than the Clio and feels more go-kart-like, but also less fluent when pushed hard, and keen to spin its inside front wheel in tight corners. It shares the Clio's tight turning circle, but asks just 2.5 turns lock to lock, making it feel fabulously darty but arguably too hyper-sensitive when trying to finesse its line either side of centre. Balance and body control are great and the Mini has a decent amount of lift-off adjustability, DSC off.

With 205/45R17 Pirelli run-flats, it has tonnes of grip, too - feeling rooted four-square to the tarmac - but also a hard ride that, while not really uncomfortable, tends to buck and toss passengers around over bad dips.

Unfortunately, the Integra's dynamics aren't a match for its great drivetrain. Like the Mini, it is quite stiff in roll and can cock its inside rear wheel halfway to heaven in corners, while leaning a little more on its front end and causing its driver to slide around on its slippery, too-flat seats.

But it doesn't quite come together as a package. It turns in well, but its steering has syrupy weighting and feels vague; its balance tends towards understeer and its rear-end adjustability lacks the Clio's precision. Wearing 215/45R17 tyres, the Type-S is grippy, capable and bloody quick - it just lacks the desired intimacy of feedback.

Integra's brakes aren't up to much, either, feeling less forceful and more fade-prone than its rivals' excellent stoppers, particularly the Clio's. And Integra's ride quality feels restless all-but everywhere, pitching and jiggling on poor roads, with noisy suspension crash-through over potholes.

All this is exacerbated if riding in the Type-S's rear seat, owing to loud, coarse-surface tyre rumble. There's acceptable room back there for anyone less than 175cm, but the cushion is hard and flat, and vision is grim. Thankfully, both backrests fold perfectly flat, extending Integra's boot to truly monstrous proportions.

The Mini isn't hushed in terms of coarse-surface road noise, but it's much quieter than the Honda. Its rear pew affords great vision, and the seat itself is well-shaped, but there's criminal space (headroom aside), just like in the Mini's tiny boot. Best stick to the front pair, even though they're too firm for long hauls.

When it comes to lugging bodies, the Clio kills the other two. Its three-person rear bench is quite comfortable, and relatively roomy in all directions. It also has a decent-sized boot, accessed by a groovy button housed in the tailgate's Renault diamond.

The Integra Type-S, despite its many splendid virtues, can't help but come third in this test. It's fast, efficient and practical, with a fantastically high-strung engine and rifle-bolt gearshift, but it doesn't really inspire. For $43K, you'd expect more in terms of refinement and tangible equipment, too.

The Mini Cooper S Chilli is a very different experience, for a similarly steep-ish price. Its effortless engine is a direct contrast to the Honda four's hyperactivity, while its go-kart handling provides instant gratification, even if it doesn't have the depth of the Clio. It's brash, glamorous, fun-loving and always the centre of attention, but it's also fairly expensive, fairly cramped for any more than two people, and thirsty when driven hard.

If you're chasing a car for all seasons, very little can out-smart a Renaultsport Clio 182. It won't cause fashion-victim advertising types to froth at the mouth, but it has the dynamic poise, fluency of movement, and interconnectedness that separates the good from the genuinely great driver's cars. And, at $32,990, it's incredible value. Let's just pray that next year's all-new model doesn't mess with the formula. In the meantime, the inspired Clio 182 is still the daddy.

Images: Cristian Brunelli