Smart ForTwo review: city car finally gets it right

What is the new Smart ForTwo?

After a very long wait, the completely new Smart ForTwo has arrived. Developed alongside Renault, it shares a great deal with the latest Twingo and the Smart ForFour, which is due shortly.

The ForTwo keeps its predecessor’s two-seat, rear-engined layout and 269 cm overall length, although it is now 11 cm wider.

Its engines are new as well: a 71bhp 1.0-litre three-cylinder and a turbocharged 90bhp 898cc three-cylinder. Thankfully, Smart has abandoned the dreadful, jerky automated gearbox from the previous ForTwo. In its place is a five-speed manual transmission, while a Renault-derived six-speed DCT is available as a £995 extra.

What is the Smart ForTwo like to drive?

It is enormously more tolerable on the road. While the old ForTwo was undeniably an ingenious packaging exercise, its clumsy behaviour at anything beyond walking speed always undermined it. The nodding gearbox, tiny wheelbase and vague steering combined to make all but the most resilient occupants feel seasick.

This new version is significantly improved. Our route admittedly consisted of a brief dual-carriageway run followed by plenty of central Barcelona driving - for some reason, TG’s request that Smart launch the car at the Nürburgring Nordschleife was declined - yet the ForTwo performed more than capably. New suspension, comprising MacPherson struts at the front and a de Dion axle at the rear, makes it feel more securely tied down than before. It deals with bumps and corners without alarming body roll, and cruises comfortably at speed.

It is not, however, a particularly sharp or focused car to drive. Presumably to reduce any risk of it feeling top-heavy, the steering, although much improved, is set up on the relaxed side. Large crests can still make the ForTwo pitch on its short wheelbase. Unfortunately, that is simply physics.

How do the new transmissions perform?

The five-speed manual is, well, a five-speed manual. It works properly, gives no cause for complaint and needs no further argument.

On the positive side, the twin-clutch option is at least four million per cent better than the previous automated gearbox, changing ratios without pauses that appear to last for geological eras. Against current DCT standards, though, it is merely adequate. In standard ‘Eco’ mode, Smart has built in a surprising amount of apparent clutch slip, seemingly to smooth away any ungainly jolts that could cause the short ForTwo to bob about on its springs.

It improves in 'Sport' mode, especially when you take charge of shifts via the gear lever; steering-wheel paddles are not offered. Unless you have (a) an automatic-only licence or (b) a dislike of using your left foot, though, save a grand and choose the manual.

Which engine should I choose?

The more eager turbocharged engine costs roughly £600 extra, but it is probably not worth paying for. The entry-level three-cylinder is lively enough to move anything you could reasonably put inside a ForTwo, while also delivering marginally better fuel economy and lower emissions. Besides, if you are buying a ForTwo to intimidate sports cars with performance, your priorities may need reconsidering.

Is it still good in the city?

It remains better than virtually anything else on sale. Its deformable plastic body panels should withstand knocks and scrapes, and, as with earlier ForTwos, it is a delight to manoeuvre into impossibly small parking bays. The modest increase in width has done nothing to diminish the Smart’s exceptional manoeuvrability. Its turning circle, the tightest of any new car on sale, is absurdly small: it can turn around in almost no more than its own width.

That parking ability inevitably involves compromises. The sole luggage area sits behind the seats and will take either two properly sized weekend bags or a slightly overweight Labrador. The broad B-pillars also create unexpectedly substantial blind spots.

How much does the Smart ForTwo cost?

Measured by its footprint per square metre, it is not inexpensive. Prices begin at £11,125 for the 71bhp model with the manual gearbox, which is the version to choose anyway. That includes 15-inch alloy wheels, Bluetooth connectivity, cruise control and, um, little else. A ForTwo equipped with a reasonable amount of kit will cost more than 12 grand. A larger, better-equipped Skoda Citigo can be bought for less.

Yet nobody buys a ForTwo because they want more for less. To an extent, they buy one because they want less for more: the smug satisfaction of parking where most cars could only fantasise about fitting.

Is that sufficient? TG, for its part, would have liked Smart to take the ForTwo further and radically reconsider just how little a city car could be, much as Gordon Murray did with the T25 project.

In reality, that was probably an unrealistic hope. The ForTwo’s role is broadly unchanged: it is an upmarket, highly manoeuvrable pod aimed at affluent city dwellers with highly specific parking needs. At last, Smart has delivered that brief properly.