Mini Cooper VS Holden Barina

This is a Mini. But it’s the roomiest one ever without back doors.

Drop yourself inside one and you’ll be struck by the sheer change going on. Retro familiarity dominated by brash innovation.

Yes, it still has comparatively upright pillars, a centrally-sited circular display and a row of toggle switches within an otherwise sparse fascia, but that’s where the similarities between classic-old and brand-new cease.

All eyes are drawn to the modest 240mm (9.4-inch) central OLED display, which seems overwhelmingly busy at first glance, but becomes clear in design, intuitive in layout and functional to use in no time. BMW’s experience here is industry-leading.

The Mini deploys bright colours and fun symbols to further help operators know what does what, where and why, making this playful and sophisticated in execution. If only all screen-based multimedia and vehicle settings were this logical. So much so, in fact, that even a limited number of toggle switches, alongside the welcome volume knob and gear selector, are enough. You won’t miss them.

Now, the driving position is first class as you might expect, with that sitting-upright-in-a-box-with-plenty-of-glass-all-round-you sensation that’s been part of the Mini experience for decades. And, in Favoured guise, the JCW buckets are superb.

The small, low-placed wheel feels right, forward vision is excellent, nothing is too much of a stretch away, storage is generous for a car this size (with a largish glove box included) and ventilation proved to be reassuringly effective in the Baltic-esque conditions we tested the car in.

Of course, being a Mini, the Cooper boasts personalisation and customisation galore, including for some compelling screen backgrounds (one reminiscent of the Morris era) and the inevitable ambient lighting, while the standard, synthetic trim and textures are amongst the most interesting in any car. And it’s all really well put together in terms of aesthetics and build quality.

What’s not to like?

Well, for starters, the glass roof lacks a cover and that’s daft in Australia. Even on a freezing Melbourne day, the sun’s glare can be too much. The side pillars are a blind spot hazard, making those standard lane-support driver-assist safety alerts essential, so don’t disable them. The between-seat cubby feels flimsy and has a lid facing the wrong way from the driver - that’s just plain lazy, BMW. And we’re glad the head-up display directly ahead of the driver is included because the digital speedo in the centre screen strays too far from some drivers’ comfortable sight lines.

Now, there’s no point complaining about the four-person Cooper 3dr’s rear seat packaging, as there’s a massive hint in this car’s name.

But while there’s sufficient room for two larger people, the two fixed positions are best for kids only. Their backrests are a tad too upright for adult comfort. There are basically no amenities present and the side windows do not crack open. Have carmakers forgotten how? Bare and basic sums it up back there. Oh, and entry/egress is impeded by painfully slow-moving electric front seats and narrow apertures to squeeze through.

Finally, there’s the cargo area, which mirrors the previous versions with a volume of just 210 litres (VDA), rising to about 800L with the 60/40 twin backrests folded. You don’t buy a Mini for practicality. And while there’s hidden storage, no spare wheel exists, remember. Just a fiddly tyre repair kit.

Still, the Cooper’s overall cabin execution is ultra-fresh yet still reassuringly on-brand, with enough interesting new details and technologies to justify updating from an older model. An inside job well done.

The Barina has one of the larger interiors of the segment, thanks in large part to its high roofline. It measures a close-to-its-peers 4039mm long and 1735mm wide, but at 1517mm tall, it isn’t far off compact SUVs.

There is really good headroom front and rear, and the driver’s seat has height adjustment - meaning taller drivers can lower themselves in pretty nicely, but the passenger front seat doesn’t have height adjust, and it sits quite high.

The media system is a 7.0-inch touchscreen with two USB ports (one to connect, one to charge - both located in the top glovebox) and Bluetooth phone and audio streaming - and you get that system in both variants. The screen is supposed to have Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, but when I connected my iPhone it wouldn’t show up the mirroring screen… which was annoying, because there’s no sat nav.

The driver-info display may be a monochrome thing, but it is super handy to have a digital speed readout, and you can keep an eye on other key bits of info, like fuel use.

Back-seat legroom is adequate, but not exceptional - behind my own driving position (I’m 183cm tall) my knees were hard-up against the seat. You could fit two adults in the back pretty comfortably, but three would be hard work. If you tend to transport younger passengers, the dual ISOFIX and three top-tether child-seat anchors will come in handy.

Storage in the back is poor - there is no rear door storage at all, only one map pocket and no fold-down armrest. There’s just a single cup holder in front of the middle seat.

Up front there are two cupholders between the seats, and there are large pockets in the doors but they aren’t formed to hold bottles, so your fizzy might go flat from shifting around. The dashboard console is quite small, and there’s no covered armrest between the seats - but the driver gets a van-style armrest.

The biggest issue I have with the cabin is that the steering wheel is huge - like, it’s the same one used in the old Commodore, and it’s way too large for the Barina’s cabin - and the gear-shifter is oversized, too. Smaller features would make for a more spacious cockpit, and it’s a bit too easy to accidentally put it all the way down into M for manual mode, rather than D.

The boot of the Barina is fairly good for its size at 290 litres (VDA), and that expands to 653L with the back seats folded down in 60/40 formation - it’s a good cargo hold, albeit with a large, deep load lip, and there’s a space-saver spare under the floor.

There are some other little things that are good: the fact the electric windows have auto-down (and auto-up on the fronts). And some things that aren’t: the masses of hard, cheap-feeling plastics; the knobs and dials that don’t feel great to turn; and the seats are pretty uncomfortable.