Wheel-s-pun

Smart Fortwo Pulse mhd

People buy Smarts because they're extreme. The shortest, the easiest to park, the most evidently urbanized car of our times. Trouble is, a Smart isn't the most ecological any more, and Smart's target 'reduce-to-the-max' urbanites want it to be.

So, here's the mhd version. It cuts the CO2 figure from 112g/km to 103, squeezing it below the Prius and Mini Cooper D.

Though Smart is leading with the chin and using the H-word - mhd stands for micro hybrid drive - it isn't what you and I know as a hybrid. It can't proceed under electrical power. It doesn't recover any energy on the over-run, nor boost its acceleration electrically.

In fact, the degree of trickery is less than the stop-start system now standard on Minis or low-end BMWs.

But let's not carp. The mhd option, when it comes to the UK next year, will only add about five per cent to the price of the car and yet allows a Smart to go about eight per cent further on a litre of petrol. If you're confined to driving in towns, the savings would be proportionally greater.

It's basically a stop-start system. You come up to a red light or clogged junction. Just as you roll down to walking speed, at the same time as the automatic clutch disengages the engine cuts out.

Sit foot on the brake and you're in silence, bar the radio and ventilation fans. Lift off the brake and the engine starts, so that by the time your foot has shifted to the accelerator the engine's ready for you. Provided you're not the sort of person who left-foot brakes (in a Smart? Why ever would you?) it all works entirely without a hitch.

The normal starter and alternator is replaced by a single big-capacity belt-drive starter/generator, which is simple in theory, but a bit complex and expensive in detail.

If the engine isn't warm enough or the battery not charged enough, the engine doesn't cut. And you can inhibit the system with a centre console button, though I can't see why you would.

Let's face it, a Smart three-cylinder isn't the world's most unobtrusive engine at idle, and it's really rather pleasant to be freed from its chuntering vibrations.

Fiat Bravo 1.4 Dynamic T-Jet 150

Start small, get bigger and Fiats get steadily worse. Let's have a fun look at the Fiat sliding scale from excellence to plop, shall we? Panda and 500? Class leaders and world beaters, characterful little machines full of sparkle and brio.

Punto? Well, not quite as brilliant, but still proper Fiat fare; nippy, cute, quick and instantly recognisable, a refreshing Latin antidote to the anodyne Polo or anything Japanese of a similar size.

Then we get to the car on this page, the new Bravo. We like it, quite a lot in fact, but it's slipping into slight mediocrity, holding on to some of the Punto's style and energy, but falling behind its rivals in other important ways.

Things are tough in this class, hideously tough, whether it's the value end of the market with kit like the Kia Cee'd and Hyundai i30, in the centre with Focus and Astra, or higher up with the Volkswagen Golf and Audi A3.

The Bravo is keenly priced, falling somewhere between Cee'd and Focus. It doesn't quite beat the Ford, but it destroys anything cheaper because it has proper character. And it's way, way better than whatever the larger Fiat is called. Er, I've forgotten. Cryo, Cromey, thing.

The new Bravo deserves to sell well on its styling alone. You'd have to be a pretty harsh critic to call it ugly. Park it next to its rivals and there's no mistaking its sleek, Maserati-esque nose with its elongated headlights and bold grille - more than you can say for the Focus/Golf/Auris/Cee'd circus, which are playing it way too safe.

The tail is neat and fuss-free, too. There's always demand for Italian flair and that's why Fiat is making such a tidy profit these days.

Hop into the Bravo and you're greeted by a fresh, bright interior with plenty of contrasting textures and materials. High quality it's not, sadly, but at least it's different to the standard German, bland, black/grey fare.

The dash has an organic sweep, with a driver-focused upper console and classic Italian-style embedded dials.

It's not comfortable behind the wheel if you're tall. The driving position compresses your legs - a result, it seems, of pedals that are too far from the floor. Your ankles and knees flex severely and there's no foot rest. Not good.

Still, the car rides well, points well and goes very well, especially this T-Jet 150, a 1.4-litre turbo with 150bhp. All of the engines are excellent, but the Bravo is too unrefined and unfinished to mix it with the best in this class. Maybe it's just too big to be a great Fiat.