Car Review: Citroen DS 5

Not quite fully digested

The DS 5 feels more of a mongrel than a designer dog: part luxury saloon, part estate car, part hatchback, part exec express, but all very mixed up (Pictures by Citroen)

One day all cars will be driverless and the job of motoring journalist will be pretty much redundant. Until then some of us will be making the most of things. Usually that doesn’t involve testing the DS 5 (née Citroen DS 5), never given much of a break by the automatic press or, not necessarily following their cue, the buying public.

Well, not me. I liked the DS 5. Although the origins of the DS 5 go back some years, and it was once indeed badged a Citroen, and engineered and built as a Peugeot Citroen Group product, it still has most of the right credentials to pass as a “premium” product. Or at least as an alternative to the ubiquitous German Big Three, who I hardly need mention by name.

With some careful tweaks to the suspension a few years ago – the simple expedient of softer damping in fact – the DS 5 was cured of its major flaw, a rather unforgiving ride. But, as they say, give a dog a bad name… and the reputation of the DS 5 has not really recovered from its initial, underengineered suspension set-up.

A styling that harks back to the 1955 Citroen DS (DS)

That, it has to be said, and the fact that potential customers haven’t really understood the thing, whatever badge was plonked on that handsome snout. The current fashion for crossover styles shows no signs of abating, oddly mirroring the trend for labradoodles, pugles, chorkies and other hybrid hounds. (In case you’re wondering they are, respectively, Labrador/poodle, pug/beagle and Chihuahua and Yorkshire terrier.)

Take the Range Rover Evoque Convertible, for example. Here we have the product of inter-breeding a traditional SUV with a hatch to create a compact SUV, and then crossing that with a cabrio to create a compact SUV convertible. Voila! A perfect mobile kennel for a designer dog.

By contrast the DS 5 feels more of a mongrel than a designer dog. It is part luxury saloon, part estate car, part hatchback, part exec express, but all very mixed up.

The DS will need time to become established as a premium brand (DS)

In tribute to the origins of the Peugeot Citroen group’s prestige brand, the original revolutionary futurist, aerodynamique and hydropneumnatique Citroen DS of 1955, it has hints of that styling applied throughout. The rear quarter view recalls the old car’s sloping profile, while the long chrome trims running along the top of the front wings also recall the DS “face”, looking a bit like tears running down the front of the car. Which would also symbolise the tears shed by its owner when the time came to trade in their heavily depreciated DS 5.

So, yes, like every other big or biggish Citroen it represents spectacular value on the second-hand market (I have always wanted a Citroen C6, another attempt at reviving the glamour of the past, for example, and now that you can pick one up for £3,000 I am almost tempted). But new? My test car carried a nominal price tag of £37,400, and that, of course, is The Big Problem.

The spec

Price: £37,400 (as tested; range starts at £28,460)
Engine capacity: 2-litre diesel; 6-sp auto
Power output (hp @ rpm): 180@3,750
Top speed (mph): 137
0-62 mph (seconds): 9.2
Fuel economy (mpg): 62.8
CO2 emissions (g/km): 117 

Establishing a premium brand in European markets is formidably difficult. While North American, Russian and Gulf audiences have warmly welcomed the prestige brands of Toyota (Lexus), Nissan (Infiniti) and Honda (Acura), Europeans have snubbed them. So much so, indeed, that they killed off Mazda’s attempts (admittedly an unworthy Jag lookalike called Xedos). What’s more, it is surprisingly easy for once respectable prestige brands to fall into irreversible decline (Rover, Lincoln, Lancia, Saab, Buick, Maybach (twice)… the list is a long one).

So Peugeot Citroen will probably need a couple of model cycles (ie decades) to build up DS into its answer to VW’s Audi, say, and the odds are stacked against it. Yet the DS 5, and the newer DS 7 SUV, make a case for why the company might just make some progress. The interior of the DS 5, for example, plays rather heavily on being like an airline cockpit, with long sweeping lines and lots of overhead switches and buttons. Even the steering wheel has a vaguely joystick vibe to it (unfortunately there’s also a slightly vague vibe about the actual steering). The proper torque-converter gearbox installed works supremely smoothly, complementing the ride, and the seats, clad in ultra-supple “watchstrap” tan leather, I found to be much the comfiest I’ve encountered in some time – supportive on a long journey too, and with three settings for heat and a massage thrown in. The 2-litre diesel and top Prestige trim level suits the DS 5 best.

Flight check complete, ready for take-off... (DS)

The DS 5 has nice touches, such as “3D” style-lights and bespoke trimmings that can push the price even higher. It also boats almost all of the modern kit buyers expect in such cars, plus a CD player, for those of us who retain a legacy collection of music. However, apart from the sheer style and the primacy given to comfort, the DS 5 can’t really hack it against even a much less well-specced BMW 3-series. The next generation DS 5 will be the real, pure bred, McCoy, I reckon.

I was most amused by the DS 5’s “Lane Departure Warning System”, which detects white lines on motorways and A-roads in most conditions, and makes the driver’s seat cushion vibrate when the car wanders. It feels very much like the sort of digestive disorder you might endure after overindulging in Guinness to celebrate St Patrick’s Day. That is what I call a premium experience.