GWM Jolion Pro review

Not a knock-off TV, not a dodgy smartwatch and not a low budget iPad, which would’ve been our first three guesses. No, the Haval Jolion Pro purports to be a mid-size SUV, named with the same, er, unshakeable confidence (read ‘lack of self-awareness’) that brought us the Ora Funky Cat. Well, briefly.

Haval and Ora actually belong to the same family, which explains a lot. Owned by Great Wall Motor, Haval only became a standalone brand 12 short years ago when it was spun off from GWM’s main line-up in 2013. Now it sells hundreds of thousands of cars a year, mostly at home in China. Russia – where Haval has a factory – is another big market.

At home it sells a bunch of crossovers, plus SUVs like the Big Dog, Cool Dog and Raptor. In China this one’s known as the Chitu. You can see why they changed it.

Let me guess, it’s electric.

Wrong. Unlike most of the cars spilling out of China these days, the Jolion Pro is a hybrid. Under the bonnet sits a 1.5-litre 4cyl engine that shares propulsion duties with an electric motor, except it’s the latter that provides most of the grunt. It chips in with 148bhp compared to the engine’s miserly 94bhp, for a combined total of 186bhp. It’s front-wheel drive always, and torque peaks at 277lb ft. Seems reasonable for something this size.

Most of the time you’ll have both working at once, but a 1.7kWh battery means the Haval can go electric-only for short bursts, or engine-only when it’s out of juice. It’s an auto, but a two-speed – Haval calls it a Dedicated Hybrid Transmission.

Ah! So it’s a Qashqai rival?

Wrong again. In terms of size you’re bang on the money, but in terms of money… you aren’t.

Why, how much is it?

Prices start at a fiver beneath £24k and rise through three trim levels to £30k for the top-spec model with everything on it. That’s almost exactly where the Qashqai starts these days, such is the world we live in. You’ll find full info over on the Buying tab of this review.

That makes it a budget option that’s more likely to fight an MG ZS or Dacia Duster for your attention. A Peugeot 2008 is a bit shorter than this but clearly less of a gamble, as are the Citroen C4 and Vauxhall Frontera. Other non-Stellantis cars – like the Skoda Kamiq and Seat Ateca – are available. But only if you’re prepared to pay extra.

That list is rather dry. Means I’ve got nothing to lose with this, right?

Not so fast. For it to be a bargain, it still has to be good. And the distance between the Haval Jolion Pro and ‘good’ might as well be measured in parsecs.

Where to start? Let’s begin with when we tried to switch it on: we got in, hit the ignition… and the battery gave out. We’ve got to give Haval the benefit of the doubt that the lights weren’t left on overnight or something, but when a test car needs the help of an AA van within the first 60 seconds, that’s not usually a great sign.

When we did eventually get it going, the drivetrain was one of the worst we’ve ever come across: it’s noisy, unrefined and slow. The ride quality is woeful, and the handling’s equally bad. There’s about as much life in the chassis as you’ll find in a sleepy village cemetery.

The interior doesn’t seem so bad, but the materials are cheap and the touchscreen’s rubbish. Space is reasonable but the boot is a joke – we’ll explain why on the Interior tab.

Then there’s the look of the thing…

Yeah, I was going to say. It’s…

Dreadful. And that’s allowing some wiggle room for design being subjective. Why has the badge been plonked in the middle of the grille? Why is it all creased like a used crisp packet? Why are the wheels buried so far inside the arches? All questions you’ll have to field if you buy one. Please don’t.

The Haval Jolion Pro is one of the least inspiring cars we’ve ever driven. It falls well short in just about every single area that you’re likely to care about, plus a few that you won’t for good measure. What’s worse is that it lacks any sense of imagination or fun – it’s entirely tragic.

Quite why Haval thought it was a good idea to bring it here at all is anyone’s guess. We suspect it saw an opportunity to undercut the competition and grab a toehold in the UK, but that bargain bucket price tag isn’t fooling anyone. Buy a Dacia instead.