Kia Ceed car review: Perfectly competent family hatchback – just a little dull

A bit more panache might lift the mood of the just-about-managing families who’ll be piling into their Ceed during the coming years of grey post-Brexit austerity

Guys at Kia Europe Design – it really doesn’t have to be this way. You can do better! (Photos by Kia)

It’s lost its apostrophe, the Kia Ceed, née cee’d. The apostrophe, unlike the ones in “it’s” or “O’Grady” or “pic’n’mix” doesn’t signify that there’s some omission in the name. Maybe the greengrocers got involved in the naming process.

Actually, it was inserted for phonetic purposes and to highlight that it was a European (EEC/CE) car, made in Slovakia and designed in Germany to European tastes, despite coming from a Korean maker. Or was. Now the apostrophe’s gone, it isn’t a catastrophe, but, well, something is missing.

Now in its third generation, the Ceed promises more dynamic handling, thanks to its lower, wider stance and greater “maturity”, whatever that means. I think it means it’s a bit duller than the old one, in truth.

(Kia)

The basic proposition of the new Kia Ceed is simply put: you can have a five-door family hatch that looks a lot like an Audi for less than the price of a Golf. On the whole, the Ceed, like every cee’d made since its debut in 2006, is a perfectly competent package. Plus you get an industry leading seven-year warranty. That will take you and your car all the way to 2025. Deal?

Whoah there. There’s a few things to say. First off, looking like an Audi isn’t all that wonderful. The Kia does without the in-your-face face of contemporary Audis, with their gigantic grilles, which is OK, but that does then leave it looking like a timid facsimile of the real thing. Much has been written about the Audifucation of the Kia brand since it poached Audi’s gifted designer Peter Schreyer, and it’s all justified.

But progress seems to be encountering the law of diminishing returns. The Ceed now looks like an Audi A3 would if Audi hadn’t started doing the full-length grille thing a decade ago. Which suits some tastes, granted, but leaves you in a bit of a design cul de sac (or whatever the German for that is. Cul de sac, probably).

The spec

Kia Ceed 1.4 T-GDi ‘First Edition’

Price: £25,750 (range starts at £18,295
Engine capacity: 1.4-litre petrol; 4-cylinder; 6-speed manual
Power output (bhp): 138
Top speed (mph): 130​
0-60mph (seconds): 8.6
Fuel economy (mpg): 48.7​
CO2 emissions (g/km):  132

Indoors it’s much the same story – trad sombre Germanic vibe, though the German brands themselves are busting their ball bearings trying to make themselves funkier these days, making you suspect they’d hired some kid from Lego or Joseph Joseph or Citroen to get the crayons out in the powerhouse of global automotive engineering. Maybe they’ll stick Citroën Cactus-style plastic cladding on the flanks of the next S-Class limo. They’re getting that way.

(Kia)

I’m not suggesting that Kia should revert to the gargoyle eccentricities of the Korean industry’s more distant past, just that a bit of colour or colourful-but-subdued ambient lighting might lift the mood of the just-about-managing families who’ll be piling into their Ceed during the coming years of grey post-Brexit austerity. Kia actually have shown they can do that with the funky Soul and Stonic, so it’s a bit surprising that there’s not even an option of a colour pack or a bit of wacky customisation, as on a Mini or Fiat 500.There was a time when the Kia was supposed to be the sportier, lovelier sister brand to Hyundai, which acquired the brand during the financial crash, but placing the Ceed against the similar Hyundai i30 it doesn’t look like that aspiration has been achieved.

Failing that, a visit to the shops in an i30 or a VW Golf is like getting off your tits on spice and going on The Big One at Blackpool; the Kia Ceed more like a trip to the Keswick Pencil Museum. Even the top “First Edition” model with all the extras loaded just has a bit of piano black trim to add a bit of class and excitement. That’s it. Guys at Kia Europe Design – it really doesn’t have to be this way. You can do better!

(Kia)

They do seem to have sharpened up the handling, so it’s more “dynamic”, as promised, though most customers wouldn’t notice the difference, but the less pliant ride they probably will feel. They should have reserved the tighter chassis set-up just for the forthcoming hot version, and left family customers with a little more comfort.

Everything works, by the way, and the quality of the materials is on a par with rivals but equipment isn’t particularly generous, so, for example, you have to move up a couple of trim levels to get built-in satnav.

In today’s terms this is like trying to charge people for having tyres fitted as standard or windows with the glass installed, so inflated have our expectations for our personal transport grown. One oddity is that headroom on the driver’s side is pretty limited when the electric seating option is installed.

(Kia)

Engines. I’ve no reason to doubt that the Ceed’s are every bit as well engineered and reliable and durable as their European rivals. Even so there is only so much anyone can get out of a small capacity three-cylinder unit, the latest fad designed to find the holy grail of decent performance and outstanding fuel economy, an approach which adds power to small engines by using turbocharging (and at times supercharging too).

The problem is that there is an inevitable loss of torque at low revs before turbos kick in, and you can feel the laws of physics being played out with some anguish on the petrol 1.0 litre Ceed. The 1.4 petrol is the option to go for, the extra capacity giving the Ceed a chance to keep up with the opposition in every sense. The diesels should also work well (not tested here) and they will need to – there is a new and well praised Ford Focus already on the block, after all.

We all have moods and I’d recommend anyone looking for a new or used car to try a Kia, including the overlooked Soul and the sexy new Stinger GT. However, right now I feel like some cosseting, and the older Peugeot 308, recently revamped, would make a better job of relaxing my stressed psyche. The Peugeot isn’t the newest or the best or the trendiest, but it is the softest of Brexit-era family hatches. To make it stand out more, they could perhaps rename it next time as P’geot 308, or Peugeot 3’8 or Peug’t 308. Adds something, don’t you think?