► Alfa Romeo’s latest petrol-powered SUV
► It’s better to drive than an Avenger or 600
► But does it feel like a proper Alfa Romeo?
After a seven-year hiatus, Alfa Romeo has come crashing back into the B-segment with the Junior small SUV. We’ve already tried the EV-powered Junior Elettrica and Junior Veloce, but now I’ve been to Italy to sample the new, petrol mild hybrid Junior Ibrida.
It uses the same 1.2-litre mild hybrid system as the Fiat 600 Hybrid and Jeep Avenger eHybrid, which Alfa Romeo says is enough to drag the car’s price tag down to an affordable level for more drivers. Indeed, where the Junior Elettrica has a starting price of around £34,000, this new mild hybrid model costs a shade under £28,000. That’s significant.
But is it worth taking a gamble on? Alfa Romeo champions the Junior Ibrida as the driver’s option in the small SUV class but, after spending a day carving around the mountains of northern Italy in one, I’m not convinced that I could overlook the Ford Puma for it. Scroll down to find out what I made of it.
At a glance
Pros: striking styling, decent handling, loads of boot space
Cons: dim-witted automatic, clunky hybrid system, disappointing cabin
What’s different?
Not much. Compared to the electric Juniors, the Ibrida has smaller 17-inch alloys, a slightly different grille and an exhaust poking out of the rear bumper.
There isn’t much difference in the cabin, either. You get the same 10.25-inch infotainment system, the same digital gauge cluster and the same steering wheel as the electric models.
What are the specs?
The Ibrida rides on the same CMP architecture as the electric Juniors, but it does without their massive battery packs. Instead, you get a 1.2-litre three-cylinder petrol engine, a dinky 0.9kWh battery mounted under the front seats and a six-speed automatic gearbox.
You get 134bhp and 170lb ft of torque, which Alfa says is enough for a 0–62mph of 8.9 seconds and a top speed of 128mph. More importantly, the brand claims the mild hybrid tech allows the Junior to return between 57.6 and 58.9mpg.
How does it drive?
It’s… fine. But, as much as they tried to convince me otherwise, Alfa Romeo’s engineers aren’t miracle workers. At the end of the day, the Junior shares its platform with the Jeep Avenger and Peugeot 2008 – neither of which I hold in high esteem for their athletic ability.
However, I will concede that the Junior is the best-driving version of Stellantis’ CMP chassis I’ve yet experienced. Alfa Romeo’s engineers explained to me how they tweaked the car’s damping, spring rates and anti-roll bars, along with the software that controls the throttle, brakes and steering. And the changes have made a difference.
The Junior is a little more playful than the Avenger and, because it has stiffer damping and greater torsional rigidity, it doesn’t roll about as much when cornering hard. It also does a better job of holding its line. Chuck it at the bend like an ape and it will understeer into the verge but, if you pre-load the tyres before committing, it isn’t half bad. I also thought the steering weighted up well once you wound in more than an eighth of a turn.
It isn’t without its faults, though. The steering doesn’t self-centre especially well, which suggests Alfa could have dialled a bit more caster into the front suspension. Plus, the changeover between regenerative and friction braking isn’t especially well modulated and the low-speed ride is unsettled, especially on the largest 18-inch alloys. Oh yeah, and my test car rattled like its dashboard was filled with ball bearings.
I wasn’t that impressed by the mild hybrid powertrain, either. Alfa Romeo said it’s supposed to act more like a full hybrid system – and its engineers proudly explained that, during testing, they found the Ibrida could potter around town on electric power alone for more than 30% of the time. But I could barely keep Junior in EV mode for 100 yards at a time, even when crawling around Turin at 10km/h (6mph) in the car’s most eco-friendly drive mode.
And while I know mild hybridisation is important for keeping petrol power around, I don’t think the technology did the Junior any favours. It’s a little indecisive about when it wants to run on electric which, when teamed with the famously gruff start-up procedure of PSA’s 1.2-litre PureTech engine, makes for quite an unrefined experience around town.
At least the engine is characterful once you’re up to speed. I’ve liked this 1.2-litre three-cylinder engine ever since I tried a manual-equipped one in the old C3 Aircross because it’s reasonably punchy for its size and it does a convincing impression of a V6 when you wring its neck. So, at least the sound is almost right for an Alfa. Plus, Alfa has designed Junior’s door seals and mirrors properly, so it’s surprisingly quiet at motorway speeds.
The gearbox really lets it down, though. It might be a six-speed double-clutch unit, but it acts like the three-speed slushmatics Jaguar used to fit to its old XJs in the 1980s. The shifts aren’t especially fast and, even when you force the ‘box to run in manual mode, the computer will shift up long before you hit the redline. Those plasticky Peugeot paddle shifters are crap, too. I’d be curious to try a Junior with the non-electrically assisted, manual-equipped powertrain available in the most basic Jeep Avenger.
Final complaint about the dynamics and then I’ll move on. The throttle response was awfully doughy. Give it the full tin of Branston beans on the way out of a bend and your input will limp around the Junior’s canbus system like the wires are made from dowelling. And it gets worse because, once your command arrives at the throttle body, the traction control decides you couldn’t possibly control all the Junior’s 134 rampaging horses and snaps the throttle shut to end your fun. It’s a real shame.
What about the interior?
Disappointing in terms of both material quality and component choice. The plastics used on the door cards and dashboard top feel especially low rent, while the switchgear is a depressing casserole of Citroen, DS, Jeep and Peugeot parts. Nothing’s unique to the Junior and none of the parts match.
The steering wheel was robbed from the DS 4, the climate control panel has been nicked from the Fiat 600, the screens are lifted from the Peugeot/Citroen parts bin and the automatic gear selector is the same part you’ll find on a Berlingo van. Oh yeah, and the one on my car wobbled around on its mount. For a brand that’s supposed to be going toe-to-toe with the likes of MINI and Volvo, it isn’t anywhere near good enough.
Space isn’t exactly sparkling, either. Much like the Avenger and the 600, you’ll struggle to squeeze yourself into the rear if you’re any taller than 5’7”. The bulky seat backs rob rear passengers of knee room, while the mechanism under the seat limits foot room. At least the boot is a good size at 415 litres. That’s only 41 litres behind the class-leading Puma.
And I’m glad to report that Stellantis hasn’t yet killed Alfa’s slightly mad streak, because you can have the Junior Ibrida with a set of Sabelt sport seats. They’re a £4,000 optional extra, which is more than 10% the cost of the car – but I fell in love with them. They have a much lower hip point than the standard seats and far better bolstering around your thighs and kidneys. You also get a few Alcantara trim pieces chucked in as part of the package, which help to make the cabin not look quite so cheap.
Verdict
I’m glad Alfa Romeo is managing to stay relevant but, after being spoiled by the firm’s utterly masterful Giorgio platform, I’m saddened to see the brand reduced to such derivative engineering under Stellantis. In fairness, the Junior is the best-driving version of CMP on sale by far, but it’s still a long way behind the likes of the Ford Puma, BMW X1 and MINI Countryman for outright thrills. That’s wrong in my book.
Now, I reckon plenty of folk are going to criticise me for pulling apart this B-segment SUV’s driving dynamics so meticulously because, let’s be honest, the sector hasn’t exactly played host to many white-knuckle driving machines. But this is an Alfa Romeo. The way it drives means everything. And the Junior’s missed the mark.
Take the Giulia as evidence of my argument. Alfa Romeo’s biggest rivals in the compact executive class consistently produce cars that are better built, more fuel efficient, more reliable and more practical, but the Giulia leaves them all trailing in its wake once you point its snout at a stretch of twisty road. It feels special.
It’d be wrong of me to expect the same sort of world-beating performance from a small SUV cobbled together from a pallet of Peugeot parts, but it would have been nice if Alfa Romeo’s engineers could have captured the essence of the Giulia. If the Junior drove that little bit better, I’d have a reason to recommend it over the Ford Puma. But it doesn’t. So, I can’t. Especially not when you compound that issue with its cheap plastics and cramped cabin.
I’m praying that the Junior Ibrida is a means to an end for Alfa Romeo. If its job is simply to front the cash to prop up the next-generation Giulia and Stelvio, I can forgive it. But if this is the direction all new Alfa Romeos are heading in, I’ve got good reason to be worried.