Mitsubishi Ralliart Sportback 2009 Review

As the assembled mob of journos stamp their feet and wring their hands to ward off the biting chill, Mitsubishi's PR man delivers solemn, Gandalf-like words of warning. It snowed yesterday, he intones, and the roads are still pocketed with frost.

Excellent. Conditions couldn't be more perfect for our first day cutting loose in the son of Evo - the Mitsubishi Ralliart.

It's almost hard to believe, but Mitsu hasn't offered a WRX competitor in Australia since the Lancer GSR, sold from 1992 to 1996. For 12 long years, Subaru has had the sub-STi/Evo playground entirely to itself with the WRX and its unique blend of turbo punch and all-paw traction. But now the tri-diamond brand wants a slice of the action.

Its carving knife wears Ralliart badges, packs 2.0 litres of turbocharged, intercooled muscle, puts its power down through a sophisticated all-wheel-drive system, offers only a dual-clutch gearbox and asks $42,490 for admission to the fun park.

But the truth is it's not just about Subaru versus Mitsubishi anymore. The sandbox these turbo ninjas used to rule has been squeezed by the growing ranks of affordable, liveable, dynamic and seriously quick hot hatches. Suddenly it's a very crowded place.

So Mitsubishi isn't just dicing with Subaru; its Ralliart offering is competing against anything that costs around $45K with some snot under the bonnet. Everything from the Mazda 3 MPS to Ford's Mondeo XR5. Boeing-sized rear wings, laggy turbocharged engines and bone-rattling suspension just won't cut it anymore, even if Araldite does ooze from its tread blocks. The message is clear and simple: diversify or die.

Mitsubishi has done a commendable job of crafting genuine practicality and liveability into this hyper hatch. But that alone isn't enough either. This car needs to blend naughty with nice; the people who'll buy this car still want some mongrel under the bonnet. They want an Evo-lite.

I escape the rasping wind and slide behind the wheel of our red Ralliart Sportback to be greeted by déjà vu. If you're looking for Evo-junior you've found it. The dash is identical, as is the multi-functioned steering wheel.

The Ralliart does, however, miss out on the Evo's superb Recaro bucket seats, offering instead more garden variety 'sports seats'. The driving position is fine, ergonomics tick all the boxes, and there's acres of space, but the cushion is too short and too flat. It's not uncomfortable, but some extra lateral support would be welcome when carving corners.

Twist the plastic ignition fob, and the engine cranks into life with an angry, metallic blip. This, too, is very familiar, very Evo. As is the view stretching over the vented and scooped, all-aluminium bonnet - yes, you guessed it, it's been pinched from the Evolution.

These comparisons with the Evo are inevitable (as is a samurai showdown with the recently revised WRX), but structurally the Ralliart is based on the VRX hatch, rather than the braced and beefed Evo sedan, and uses a hybrid of Evo and VRX components.

At the heart of the Ralliart beats a detuned version of the Evo's 4B11, aluminium 2.0-litre engine. Internally identical, the key technical difference is the turbo itself. The Ralliart uses a smaller, single-scroll turbocharger pushing less boost into the engine. The key numbers shake out at 177kW and 344Nm, down 40kW/22Nm compared to the Evo.

And it feels exactly this way from behind the wheel. There's not the same manic rush to redline but turbo lag is pleasingly repressed, with boost building from 2500rpm and a wicked whistle sounding as the impeller spins its fury. Engine response at any rpm is free and elastic, coupled with a chubby mid-range that nails overtaking manoeuvres. We recorded 0-100km/h in 6.3sec, which is quick, if short of ballistic.

The suspension tune is also unique to the Ralliart, and again is a tauter, stiffer, more focused version of the garden-variety VRX's, rather than a softened Evo set-up. This means regular struts up front and a multi-link rear end, with twin-tube dampers at each corner, rather than the more expensive monotube dampers used by the Evo.

The AWD system, on the other hand, was born beneath the Evo. Nestled between the front wheels is the same helical-style limited-slip diff and an electronically controlled, three-mode Active Centre Differential (ACD) juggles drive between axles as per the Evo. The crucial hardware downgrade is found at the back, where the Evo's super-techno yaw-sensing rear diff is replaced by a conventional mechanical LSD.

But numbers and specs often flatter to deceive, so time to see what the Ralliart is really capable of. Whipping along curling tarmac pocked like the face of a McDonald's staffer, the surface is slippery and punctuated by evil mid-corner bumps and off-camber exits. This is the proving ground.

Even though the Ralliart still sinks its claws deep into the tarmac and serves up bulk grip, it's a car that requires finesse to go fast. It's necessary to drive to the car's strengths and around its weaknesses.

Bowl into a corner carrying too much speed, and the nose will invariably scrub wide. At this point, were you behind the wheel of an Evo, the solution is simple: throttle plus firewall. Computerized brains crunch algorithms faster than you can think, the rear diff shuffles power to the outside wheel and the car fires from the apex like Usain Bolt exploding out of the blocks.

The Ralliart, with lesser technology on which to rely and less sticky rubber, requires a more delicate touch. The 215/45R18 Yokohama tyres don't smear into the tarmac like the Evo's Dunlops, the wash of understeer sets in earlier and there's a slight awkwardness to the differential action as torque is juggled. Just mashing the loud pedal won't bring the nose back into line; rather, it serves only to broaden the arc of the scrabbling front tyres. No, the Ralliart requires a more measured touch with both throttle and steering.

It's clear that the Ralliart's limits are much lower than those of the Evo. Its grip levels and the sheer velocity of cornering speeds mark it as a blunter tool. But turn the nose in early, feel the car settle, then dance along the rush of turbo torque and the Ralliart will carve any road you care to throw at it.

And body control is nothing short of outstanding. The faster you go, the better it gets, proving unflappable in its ability to soak up punishment on rough roads.

But while the Ralliart may not share the Evo's outright pace, it certainly has inherited its thirst. Over 600 kilometres of testing, including back-road blats, slithering dirt tracks, urban commuting and freeway cruising, the final consumption figure tallied 14.3L/100km. Not outrageous, but it entirely depends on how much performance you access. My first fill, after spending nearly 150km getting intimately acquainted with redline, recorded a whopping 22.1L/100km. With a 55L fuel tank, this equates to a piddling 250km range, and coupled with the Ralliart's need for 98RON, it's easy to work up an expensive thirst. Slipping back onto the freeway, however, cruising at 110km/h at a relaxed 2700rpm saw a more acceptable 10.5L/100km.

Another chink in the Ralliart's armour is its steering. At 3.3 turns lock-to-lock, it's not nearly as sharp or direct as you'd wish for in a performance car. It's accurate enough, but slightly vague, lacks feel and requires far too much lock, particularly in tight hairpins. It's a far cry from the hair-trigger steering and razor-sharp turn-in of the Evo.

But should you need reminding of the Ralliart's bloodlines, fire into a bend and stamp hard on the well-weighted brakes. You won't find a wiggle or shimmy, just rock-solid stability and retardation.

Overall, though, the Ralliart doesn't radiate the Evo's singularity of purpose. It's softer, slower and less precise. It's also more comfortable, cheaper and easier to drive.

The ride is firm, but never harsh, and was actually supple enough to send lensman Chang off to the land of nod, to dream about whatever it is photographers dream of. You'd need an Amy Winehouse-sized shot of Valium to nod off in the skateboard-sharp Evo.

Even refinement levels are more than acceptable, although road noise is dependent on surface. On smooth tarmac, the acoustics are impressively hushed, but on coarse-chip bitumen the cabin booms with the dull roar of tyre noise.

The SST dual-clutch (the only 'box available for now) is at its best in max-attack mode. In the urban crawl, initial throttle tip-in is difficult to modulate and often the car clunks forward as the gears engage. Sharp throttle lifts in traffic can also catch the electronic gubbins napping.

But point that aluminium bonnet towards a sinewy B-road and all is forgiven. Using the wheel-mounted paddles, shifts are dispatched with only a slight hiccup in the river of turbo power. Even in auto mode, when set to 'sport' it does an impressive job of picking the right gear for the situation. The Ralliart's AWD system doesn't crunch as many megabytes as the Evo, and you won't exhale that involuntary faaark under full acceleration for the first time.

What Mitsubishi has delivered is a car with a clear sense of cohesion; a car that flows down the road and an experience not measurable by numbers or computations. It's also practical, safe and liveable. For Subaru, it's clear the gauntlet has been laid down...

*Track: Oran Park, dry. Temp: 15°C. Driver: Sean Poppitt