Mini Cooper VS Mazda3

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.

There is a price to pay for all this quasi-coupe styling flair, and that’s a comparatively snug-feeling interior, though you’d never call it cramped.

Actually, the Mazda 3 is no less spacious than most of its competition in all but one area, with enough room even for 200cm drivers, along with sufficient shoulder width and ceiling height to match.

If you’re really tall, maybe that missing sunroof isn’t such a bad thing, after all.

Sat so low-down on cushy, enveloping front seats that offer plenty of comfort and support, this is the anti-SUV. Maybe Mazda should have called this the MX-3.

Sporty and spot-on, the driving position is a laid-back affair, with an emphasis on better ergonomics, as emphasised by the thoughtful placement of switchgear that’s all within easy reach, ahead of a beautifully flowing and layered dash. Proudly Japanese in flavour, it brings to mind functional minimalism.

Drilling into some of the 3’s finer interior details, the analogue-look digital instrumentation is super-legible, ultra-classy and gorgeously lit at night. As previously mentioned, the dials and surrounding air vents are reminiscent of the later Porsche 944 and 968.

It’s not just all for the sake of aesthetics, either.

Yes, it’s lovely, but the thinned-rim three-spoke steering wheel feels great to grip, with nifty little paddle shifters that are a delight to prod.

Same goes for the physical volume knob and climate-control buttons, sidestepping the need to get distracted and frustrated by virtual sub-menus.

And having a conventional gear lever with old-school Tiptronic-style shifts suits the 3’s athletic vibe.

Plus, forward vision is A-OK, ventilation is faultless, storage is better than you might expect, and the fit and finish is as good if not better than any of this 3’s German premium opponents.

Out back, the split-fold rear backrest is set at a comfortable angle, the cushion is well padded, and you’re provided with USB ports, air vents, and an armrest with two cupholders. More thoughtfulness.

But while knee room is fair, rear headroom isn’t great if you’re tall or wear a beehive, as the falling ceiling line reveals.

Vision out is limited by that rising window line and fat pillars. Getting in and out of the back requires some contortionist moves. And the small windows mean it can be gloomier in the back than a Smiths album.

Finally, at just 295 litres, the 3’s cargo capacity is disappointing. Sure, it eclipses the Corolla hatch’s 217L cubby, but other rivals are far larger back there.

At least the floor is wide and flat and there are 60/40-split backrests for cabin access for longer items.

Note that a space-saver spare wheel lurks underneath. Mazda argues there’s always the closely-related CX-30 if you need (slightly) more space (317L).

Meanwhile, at the other end of the 3…