Honda HR-V review

Honda says it has followed a principle it calls “man-maximum, machine-minimum”, which sounds like something weird Robocop would come out with if you spilled a glass of water on him.

In practice it’s supposed to mean junking any tech for tech’s sake and making sure that it serves the driver and passengers. Mercifully, it seems to mean that there are buttons for the aircon, but it hasn’t extended to a common sense approach to things like changing the car’s drive settings, which you can’t do unless your HR-V is stopped and in P.

Hondas tend to be spacious. Is this?

There's plenty of legroom all round, but restricted headroom for adults in the back. The front is comfortable, and the chunky steering wheel in particular is a delight to grasp, though it would be even nicer if it extended further toward the driver.

One irritation is that the roof-mounted seatbelt for a central passenger can get in the way of the right rear passenger’s head (if they’re a grown-up).

What about the tech?

The HR-V comes with plenty of goodies if you want them – there are Apple and Android hookups (the Apple is wireless as standard, but Android users will need to remember their cable) available as well as the potential for a wifi hotspot. The now requisite app that Honda’s whipped up will keep you in touch with the car (in case you lose it in a large car park, for instance) and even serve as a digital key.

But... while the minimalism is commendable, some of the execution looks half-hearted. The graphics on that 9in touchscreen, for instance, look ancient already, and it makes you wonder if the HR-V is aimed mainly at those resolutely sticking with the main four channels on their television.

I see. Anything else you liked?

The ‘magic seats’ (Honda’s words, not ours) in the back are a useful touch – it means you can get a load of shopping bags inside without having to go to the boot, or maybe a small bicycle or a bit of furniture. The world’s your oyster – and you could fit a load of them in too. 

The Honda’s 335-litre boot (1,305 litres with the seats down) lags somewhat behind its rival, the Toyota’s C-HR. But then the Toyota doesn’t have magic seats. 

The delightful-yet-dull feature you’ll be showing your friends is the L-shaped vents up front that are designed to get air circulating around the cabin without creating a horrendous breeze, which work surprisingly well.