# data.attributes.title
MG Cyberster - long-term review - Report No:4

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MG Cyberster - long-term review - Report No:4 | Top Gear

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Welcome to the future? A massive pain? Tedious gimmick? Here’s our verdict

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
MG Cyberster - long-term review - Report No:4

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Welcome to the future? A massive pain? Tedious gimmick? Here’s our verdict

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
MG Cyberster - long-term review - Report No:4

# data.attributes.metatag[].attributes.content
Welcome to the future? A massive pain? Tedious gimmick? Here’s our verdict

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It’s always the doors that get people talking.

People are curious about the Cyberster in many ways: they really like the way it looks but hate the rear ‘arrow’ lights. They’ve heard of the badge but thought MG had gone bust.

They’re surprised to hear it’s fully electric and then shocked there’s nothing useful under that longboi bonnet. And they always presume it costs more money than MG actually charges. A lot more. Especially when they discover it’s got ‘Lambo doors'.

Electric Lambo doors at that. Which I can and do regularly open remotely. Which I imagine makes me look like a massive bloody show-off.

Actually, it’s not about the peacocking. It’s about getting home during daylight hours. From pressing the button on the door to the door itself being fully open takes the Cyberster exactly 5.8 seconds. Use the remote door release via the key and the time taken rises to 7.5 seconds. Yes, I timed that with a stopwatch.

I’ve learned to trigger the door from the key, when I’m six or seven paces from the car. That way by the time I arrive at the Cyberster, it’s ready for me to climb inside without waiting in the rain.

Even this takes practice. Arrive too early and the door’s built-in sensor will detect an obstacle. That’s you. The person waiting patiently to climb inside. There’s a beep (inevitably – the Cyberster does nothing without emitting a shrill beep) and the door stops. It hangs in midair stupidly, awaiting further instructions.

This becomes tedious when a passenger is opening their own door. Because you know what’s going to happen, don’t you? They find the button. They press it. They gaze in wonder as the door rises skywards… and senses them standing there gawping. It stops. They frown. They can’t reach the release button any more. So I have to climb inside and press the switch to open it for them. Bit of a faff. And you’ll really wish everyone isn’t watching by this point.

I’m afraid the flaws don’t stop there. Because the Cyberster has silly doors, it has a silly amount of stowage space in the lidded pockets. You’ll get some chewing gum in there, but your sunglasses case? Nope.

You would expect I’m fed up of the doors, and wish MG had simply fitted normal vertical hinges with no electrical motorisation. Actually… no.

There’s no getting away from the fact they add a huge sense of occasion. If you can handle the quizzical looks they draw, there’s a massive ‘specialness’ factor there that elevates the experience. We hear a lot about how EVs sanitise and erode the emotional joy of motoring. Here’s a way to pop a little bit of it back. We’re simple creatures. There’s a reason McLarens, Koenigseggs and V12 Lambos have crazy doors, and whatever the marques tell you, it’s not primarily easier access to the cabin. Showing off rarely goes out of fashion.

It’s also worth pointing out they are actually helpful in a tight spot. The doors are long and the Cyberster is only a smidge under two metres wide. If it had conventional doors, you’d be trapped inside in a standard British parking space. Whereas with vertical doors, you can park places other 2m-wide cars fear to tread. Which was the whole point of Lamborghini inventing Lambo doors in the first place, with the Countach.

Showing off? Nah, nothing to do with it.

# data.attributes.body.processed
It’s always the doors that get people talking.

People are curious about the Cyberster in many ways: they really like the way it looks but hate the rear ‘arrow’ lights. They’ve heard of the badge but thought MG had gone bust.

They’re surprised to hear it’s fully electric and then shocked there’s nothing useful under that longboi bonnet. And they always presume it costs more money than MG actually charges. A lot more. Especially when they discover it’s got ‘Lambo doors'.

Electric Lambo doors at that. Which I can and do regularly open remotely. Which I imagine makes me look like a massive bloody show-off.

Actually, it’s not about the peacocking. It’s about getting home during daylight hours. From pressing the button on the door to the door itself being fully open takes the Cyberster exactly 5.8 seconds. Use the remote door release via the key and the time taken rises to 7.5 seconds. Yes, I timed that with a stopwatch.

I’ve learned to trigger the door from the key, when I’m six or seven paces from the car. That way by the time I arrive at the Cyberster, it’s ready for me to climb inside without waiting in the rain.

Even this takes practice. Arrive too early and the door’s built-in sensor will detect an obstacle. That’s you. The person waiting patiently to climb inside. There’s a beep (inevitably – the Cyberster does nothing without emitting a shrill beep) and the door stops. It hangs in midair stupidly, awaiting further instructions.

This becomes tedious when a passenger is opening their own door. Because you know what’s going to happen, don’t you? They find the button. They press it. They gaze in wonder as the door rises skywards… and senses them standing there gawping. It stops. They frown. They can’t reach the release button any more. So I have to climb inside and press the switch to open it for them. Bit of a faff. And you’ll really wish everyone isn’t watching by this point.

I’m afraid the flaws don’t stop there. Because the Cyberster has silly doors, it has a silly amount of stowage space in the lidded pockets. You’ll get some chewing gum in there, but your sunglasses case? Nope.

You would expect I’m fed up of the doors, and wish MG had simply fitted normal vertical hinges with no electrical motorisation. Actually… no.

There’s no getting away from the fact they add a huge sense of occasion. If you can handle the quizzical looks they draw, there’s a massive ‘specialness’ factor there that elevates the experience. We hear a lot about how EVs sanitise and erode the emotional joy of motoring. Here’s a way to pop a little bit of it back. We’re simple creatures. There’s a reason McLarens, Koenigseggs and V12 Lambos have crazy doors, and whatever the marques tell you, it’s not primarily easier access to the cabin. Showing off rarely goes out of fashion.

It’s also worth pointing out they are actually helpful in a tight spot. The doors are long and the Cyberster is only a smidge under two metres wide. If it had conventional doors, you’d be trapped inside in a standard British parking space. Whereas with vertical doors, you can park places other 2m-wide cars fear to tread. Which was the whole point of Lamborghini inventing Lambo doors in the first place, with the Countach.

Showing off? Nah, nothing to do with it.

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250KW Trophy Single Motor 77 KWH 2DR Auto

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4.2 miles per kWh, 250 miles, 0g/km CO2 

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What’s it actually like to live with a car with electric scissor doors?

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Welcome to the future? A massive pain? Tedious gimmick? Here’s our verdict

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What’s it actually like to live with a car with electric scissor doors?

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Usage and meaning of the 'virtual' resource identifier.

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TopGear - LT - MG Cyberster - BX24 GKC - 007.jpg