Fiat 500e
Inevitably, the original Mini still consistently tops the polls as the nation’s best loved car, a position which BMW’s capital-lettered replacement has exploited with ruthless efficiency. But two years before the first Mini rolled off the production line in 1959, the rest of Europe had already begun a long-term affair with Dante Giacosta’s remarkable automotive Tardis, the Cinquecento. Even if you have no Mini tales to tell yourself, you’ll undoubtedly know someone who has. Across the Channel, the same is true of the Fiat 500.
Mine involves a brief respite from the rigours of student InterRail travel courtesy of the back seat of a Cinquecento. The front was occupied by an Italian girl so pretty she made me want to burst out cheering and, sadly, her boyfriend. Progress through red traffic lights, the head on traffic of one-way streets and the gravel paths of ornamental gardens was accompanied by what sounded like the Biggest Argument in the World but was, apparently just a cordial discussion as to the best way to get where we were going. They say ‘See Naples and Die’, but that’s pretty much how I felt about Rome that afternoon…
Now, folklore has it that an Italian judge once threw an assault case out of court having deemed such a thing physically impossible in the back seat of a Cinquecento. owHHowever, were such a case to surface in the context of the reborn, 2007 Fiat 500, he’d have to reconsider. Because, though it certainly looks the part, the Fiat is actually an even more disingenuous piece of packaging than BMW’s MINI.
Whilst the latter is simply far larger than the original, and therefore not remotely clever, the former doesn’t even have the engine in the back anymore, though this does allow the Fiat 500 to both offer parity in rear seat legroom and handsomely out-point the Mini in boot space.
Nonetheless, such a clever job did Fiat do of paying homage to the classic Cinquecento that only when you see the two parked side by side do you realise how much the 500 has grown since the 3,893,294th and final original trundled off the production line in 1975.
And now it has grown again; but only by 61 mm in length and 29 mm in height to accommodate an all-electric powertrain. Nostalgia was sparingly applied to the 500’s 2007 renaissance, rather than ladled on, most notably in the form of a chrome plated tailgate handle recalling the original’s ‘bicycle saddle’ shaped number plate light holder and, to the front, via circular headlamps and the trademark ‘whisker and logo’ badging derived from the name of the very first Fiat 500, the 1936 Topolino –‘little mouse’.
Alas, none of these artfully crafted touches have survived the electrification process; the closest we get being the residual rounding of headlamps now bisected by the front lip of the bonnet and an air of plump familiarity about the stern. No matter, however; though the 500e most strongly shows its Cinquecento credentials in profile, it still wallops the clapper pretty much all the way up to the bell on the cute-ometer.
And the interior is a huge improvement over the last standard issue I drove, wherein the visual juxtaposition between steering wheel and circular, rev counter-in-speedometer instrument binnacle isn’t an especially happy one, and driver’s seat height adjustment is offered only at the rear of the base, so you can either sit level, and too high, or turn a handle and feel the seat begin to swallow you like some velour-clad leviathan of the deep.
It’s not just more spacious (your Honour), it looks a great deal better to boot, not least due to a handsome swathe of body-coloured dashboard. It’s still rare, and always pleasing, to be able to celebrate the body colour you chose with a timely reminder from whence you actually spend all your time with the car.
Instrumentation is a pleasing mix of the digital and physical -including slightly bizarre electric push-button door handles, and the mid-grade Icon I drove boasts a 10.25-inch infotainment system with as speedy a phone connectivity as you could wish for. Best of all, the driving position’s far better than before, and you no longer need the anatomy of an orang-utan to get comfortable behind the wheel.
Priced from around £20,000, the 500e line-up starts with a model offering a quoted range of only 115 miles. Fine for confirmed urbanites, but most will smash sufficient piggy bankery to afford the longer range variant I drove, which boasts a 42 kWh battery, a more powerful 117 bhp motor, faster, 85 kW charging and a claimed range of up to 199 miles.
If ever a car were suited to an all-electric powertrain, this is it. 162 lb ft of torque from zero rpm ensures the 500e steps smartly off the line and fizzes to 30 mph with more than adequate vim. Lob in light controls and a diminutive, 9.7 metre turning circle and there’s entertainment aplenty to be unearthed around town.
A choice of three drive modes -Normal, Range and Sherpa- also brings one pedal driving into the equation. Range mode dials in a more relaxed throttle setting whilst upping the regenerative braking ante enough to bring the car to a halt without the need to deploy the brake pedal. And the Sherpa setting restricts power to 67 bhp and top speed to 50 mph, while shutting down the air-con to conserve juice.
Out of town, the 500e is still quietly pleasant to helm, but its light, accurate steering and impressive agility are somewhat undermined by a ride quality all to ready to deteriorate quite significantly at the first sniff of a poor road surface. Weight, as is commonplace for the body electric, is the main problem, and I certainly wouldn’t want tyres any larger than the 17-inch offerings fitted here. Somehow, though, I found myself far more ready to forgive the Fiat’s shortcomings than those of other minuscule electric offerings. Perhaps that’s because the 500e works so well as a complete package; is so easy to live with.
Better yet, though the car will take an 85% charge in 35 minutes from an 85 kW DC fast charger, it’s also far happier than most rivals to quietly suck on a three-pin, outside shed socket overnight and wake up offering a perfectly adequate range. And that, in fast charger-free Mudfordshire, is, for the foreseeable future, important.