Nearly every Mini we test these days gives us sticker shock: We’ve seen a base-model Cooper Hardtop that broke the $30,000 mark and a ridiculously pricey John Cooper Works Countryman that rang in at an unbelievable $46,045. But the window sticker for the Mini Clubman reviewed here was shocking for a different reason: At $26,500, it was cheaper than any Mini we’ve tested since 2011—and it was a whopping $13,000 less than a loaded Clubman S we tested earlier this year.
To get a Clubman for such a low price requires steering clear of all sorts of options. Our car was equipped with only three extras: satellite radio ($300), heated front seats ($500), and 17-inch black-painted wheels ($750). The extra bits of visual flair that so many Mini owners love—such as Union Jack flags on the roof and racing stripes on the hood—are absent here, as are traditional big-ticket features such as leather seats, a panoramic sunroof, and navigation.
Some unexpectedly upscale features do come standard, including rain-sensing windshield wipers, dual-zone automatic climate control, and push-button start. But we’re more frustrated by the amenities that Mini charges extra for, such as a backup camera ($500 plus a required addition of parking sensors for $500), proximity-key access ($500), power front seats ($1250), and those not available for any cost, including blind-spot warning and remote start.
Price Perspective
Even so, it’s a lot easier to see the appeal of the Clubman’s overall package when viewing it through a $26,000 lens, and not a $40,000 one. Its larger, well-proportioned body presents a pleasing shape that looks long, wide, and wagon-like. And the new four-door arrangement (six if you count the split-opening cargo doors, as Mini does) and longer wheelbase create a more spacious back seat that’s even roomy enough for adults. The useful cargo area also offers 18 cubic feet of space with the rear seats up, and a relatively expansive 49 cubic feet with them folded.
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Skipping the more expensive Clubman S model’s turbo four-cylinder and settling for the base car’s spunky, 134-hp 1.5-liter turbocharged three-cylinder isn’t much of a loss, however. At 168 inches, this is the longest Mini ever, but the little three-banger and its bodacious 162 lb-ft of peak torque move the Clubman’s 3105 pounds with enough verve. That swell of torque comes on strong low in the rev range but tapers off noticeably above 5000 rpm. Shifting frequently is necessary to make the most of this narrow band—luckily, the six-speed manual on our test car was pleasant to row, with crisp action and relatively short throws.
Not So Fast . . .
Despite this impression of zippiness, shifting for ourselves didn’t do much to help the Clubman three-cylinder’s middling acceleration times. This car delivered the same 8.0-second zero-to-60-mph run as its automatic-transmission sibling, with the quarter-mile coming in 16.4 seconds at 85 mph. A manual-transmission Volkswagen Golf 1.8T betters both those figures, at 6.8 seconds to 60 mph, and 15.4 seconds and 92 mph in the quarter-mile. The Golf’s observed 27 mpg in our hands matches the less-powerful Mini’s fuel economy.
We’re not choosing the Golf as an arbitrary measuring stick. The new Clubman is sized almost identically to that iconic, 10Best Cars–winning German hatch, and, at least in this low-spec model, the Mini is priced in the same range as the Golf. But for all the overlap on paper, the character of the two cars couldn’t be more different.
The charming and cheeky Clubman offers a fun sort of foil for the slightly anodyne, no-nonsense nature of the Volkswagen. That pragmatic approach extends to packaging efficiency, at which the Golf excels; it has more back seat and cargo space than the Clubman. But those who appreciate a bit of individuality may be charmed by the Mini’s details such as the center-stack toggle switches and color-changing ring around the infotainment screen. Others may simply find them gimmicky. The dual cargo doors that take the place of a conventional hatch might also come across as silly to some, but at least they spring to action quickly and provide a wide aperture when fully opened. Each door also has its own diminutive windshield wiper—if that doesn’t tickle your cute reflex, you’re not Mini material.
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Classic Mini Charm?
The fun extends to the Clubman’s handling, too, as quick steering and a firm suspension make for good body control and a tight, responsive feel through the corners. The 17-inch wheels and longer wheelbase help settle the jiggly ride and mitigate the harshness exhibited by some of the smaller Minis with bigger wheels. The Golf is more composed and solid, but it has more body roll when cornering and isn’t as eager to change direction.
The Clubman doesn’t measure up as well when it comes to more rational metrics such as outward visibility, ergonomics, and build quality. Chunky D-pillars and those double doors compromise the view out the back, the small gauges can sometimes be hard to read, and some minor squeaks and rattles were already present in our test car with fewer than 4000 miles on the odometer.
But rationality can’t explain the reason one buys a Mini. The Clubman’s endearing character doesn’t excuse its quirks and minor annoyances, but these oddities are at least easier to digest when the price tag doesn’t reach into the stratosphere. And who are we to deny the right-brain appeal of the cute, fun-to-drive, nicely sized, and agreeably priced Clubman?
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