It’s a curious time for the hot hatch. When the Ford Fiesta ST - the standard bearer for the supermini class since 2013 - is going off-sale, and a Honda Civic Type R is £50k (not to mention harder to get hold of than a GT3 RS), something’s clearly up. The genre famous for offering versatility and performance for any budget is apparently suffering the same chronic shortages as everywhere else: the fast Vauxhall Astra is now a not-very-fast plug-in hybrid, no Peugeot 308 GTI is ever likely again, and the Renault Sport Megane won’t get a direct replacement either. From Up GTI to RS3 (both of which can’t be bought right now, of course), the hot hatch sector is in a genuine state of flux.
Still, at least for those who can’t get or don’t want one of the usual suspects, there is still a choice. For six years now, in one form or another, the Hyundai i30 N has given a great account of itself, and while the Cupra Leon may not have immediately set the segment on fire, it performs the traditional Seat trick of redeploying the Golf GTI's running gear in a less obvious setting. And with a good deal more power, too.
That the i30 N has altered precious little since 2017 speaks volumes of its core rightness. It’s an old-school hot hatch but not an old-fashioned one, brimmed with attitude and no little character. As so many similar cars, even in just the past six years, have sought to further distance the driver from what’s going on, the Hyundai’s unapologetic level of intent has only grown in appeal. That starts before you go anywhere, its driver's seat clasping you tight and everything important - gearlever, traction control button, drive modes - all within easy reach and logically sited. Sounds obvious, but don’t forget the opposition we’re dealing with. This is a cabin designed by enthusiasts for enthusiasts, with a great set of dials (including the warm-up rev limit like an M car), a satisfying, weighty gearlever even as an automatic, good pedal placement and nice shift paddles. Its credentials as a hot hatch are never in question.
For a spin-off brand that is supposed to be all about Latin flair, it's a pity that the Leon often seems like it's trying its hardest not to be sporty. There's nothing inherently wrong with the understated approach - for decades, Volkswagen had it down to a fine art - but the Leon veers into bland, save for its decent seats. Ignoring the quality and usability gripes that plague its wider generation, there’s precious little that hints at this being a 300hp, 155mph hot hatch, or a prospectively entertaining steer. The Cupra copper accents aren’t enough to lift it - in fact, they serve as a reminder that when a fast Leon was the value proposition, an occasionally dour interior could be excused; that’s harder to do at almost £40,000.
The i30’s neatly judged interior is no façade for the driving experience either; if anything, it smartly previews what’s coming on the road. There are the obvious, attention-grabbing elements, from shift lights bright enough for Santa Pod to a military-grade exhaust, but subtler areas impress as well. The gearbox shifts dutifully regardless of what’s asked from it, perhaps even holding a gear a tad longer than usual for more racket, the pedal weights can’t be faulted, and there’s a tangible sense of connection to the front wheels through the steering. Beneath the tongue-in-cheek silliness of the i30, from the N Grin Shift to N Power Shift (yes, they are different), is a hatch of obvious quality.
Alas, the driving experience in the Leon does too good a job of mirroring its appearance. Broadly speaking, the car is very capable - but it is terminally uninterested in cluing its owner into why such capabilities might be interesting. You tend to feel like you're being kept at arm's length, and even when you wind everything up in Cupra mode (which requires an annoying trip to the touchscreen) there’s none of the feistiness or feedback of the i30. Mostly this is about the steering's failure to come alive, yet it also reflects poorly on the damping, which manages to seem firm without ever properly hunkering down. Not like the i30 does, at any rate. Factor in a disappointing (and highly manufactured) soundtrack, and it all feels a bit flat - all the more so when you consider that Leon actually covers the ground very quickly indeed and is endowed with the newer, quicker-to-rev engine. Knowing the potential that’s in the platform - as evidenced in cars like the Clubsport Golf - just make the subdued nature of the performance even more disappointing. If ever a rip-snorting Cupra R was required, it's now.
Driving it back to back with the i30 goes to show what a tonic that extra bit of character can be. Like the old Japanese rally reps, the Hyundai somehow unearths a specialness that was never evident in the standard i30. The 280hp 2.0-litre motor cannot claim to be its main tentpole - it uses far more fuel than the Leon for less real-world performance - but it's never less than game. This is crucial because the i30 begs to be driven hard at every opportunity, and rewards you for putting your shoulder into it by firmly pushing back against you through the controls, digging in that bit harder and communicating clearly when limits have been breached. In less-than-perfect conditions, the Hyundai is less prone to axle tramp than the Cupra and more confidence-inspiring, if only because you’re always more aware of what’s going on. Neither thrived in wet, cold conditions like a Golf R would - but the Hyundai dealt with them better.
With the Cupra solely offered with the DSG (only the 150hp petrol can be had with the manual), it ought to make more of the seven-speed transmission. With just the switch lever between the seat and the flimsy paddles behind the wheel, there is no incentive to get involved with the nitty gritty of actually driving the Leon. The gearbox is smooth enough left to its own devices, but it's no longer the class-leading dual-clutch it once was, and there’s no doubt that the experience would be more gratifying with concessions made to drivers that want to use its manual function.
As we’ve alluded to before, the i30 N shows that an automatic can be both easy and engaging for a hot hatch - a trick sorely missing from any of the current VW/Cupra/Skoda alternatives (frustratingly so when they aren’t mutually exclusive attributes). It can be left in Drive (and even Eco for the engine, if you must) and dawdled about, albeit rather tautly, like any Hyundai hatch; but then it’s also capable of the touring car impression, lever right there or proper paddles on offer to change gear in a genuinely rewarding fashion. Eight gears mean the intermediate ratios are really close, too, so there’s always an excuse to blat up and down them. Point is, the Hyundai is fun because of its automatic, not despite it. Granted, you'll need to overlook the fact that an i30 with the eight-speed DCT, somewhat inexplicably, is officially even less efficient than the six-speed manual car - but apparently that’s the price you pay for having fun.
Obviously, we're accustomed to the i30's efficiency shortcomings by now. But that it now costs BMW 128ti money to get into, does, admittedly, suggest a pause for thought. Hard to call out any casual buyer swayed by swankier materials and fewer trips to the petrol station. The turning circle is rubbish, too. And, while we've deliberately avoided comparison with the much more expensive Civic, it's fair to say that the N is no longer in the absolute top flight when it comes to modern front-drive hot hatches.
Nevertheless, its advantage on the day is undeniable. Not because it offers an especially significant step-up in ability compared to the Leon, it just does a much better job of shouting about them. In just about every facet that really matters, it pulls out a lead - although it is probably sufficient to say that the i30 is the car that encourages harder driving, and then seems better equipped to deal with it. That it also doesn't sacrifice much, if anything, in terms of refinement and day-to-day usability only cements its position as the 'best of the rest'. In its shadow, the Leon slumps to something like Q-car status - which is sort of fine if you're after a toned-down, grown-up hot hatch for less than £40k. But that's what the Golf GTI is for, right? Cupra's basic values still seem too ill-defined, and the Leon's most notable shortcoming - its inability to hold your attention - is probably symptomatic of that wider failure.
In contrast, by simply appealing to what a keen driver might want, Hyundai's N division has shown what can be achieved in a relatively short space of time. As proof that two-pedal hot hatches can be fun, and that a modern, fast five-door can be safe all the time as well as silly when required, the i30 stands apart. Much like the Megane and the Focus, it seems very likely that we will miss it terribly when it eventually goes - although who now would bet against the firm setting new standards with the incoming Ioniq 5 N? We can but hope.
SPECIFICATION | 2021 CUPRA LEON VZ2
Engine: 1,984cc, four-cyl turbo
Transmission: 7-speed DSG auto, front-wheel drive
Power (hp): 300@5,300-6,500rpm
Torque (lb ft): 295@2,000-5,200rpm
0-62mph: 5.7 seconds
Top speed: 155mph
Weight: 1,490kg (Cupra kerbweight)
MPG: 35.8-37.2
CO2: 171g/km (WLTP)
Price: £37,425 (price as standard; price as tested £38,005, comprised of Magnatec Grey paint for £580)
SPECIFICATION | 2022 HYUNDAI I30 N DCT
Engine: 1,998cc 4-cyl turbo
Transmission: 8-speed dual-clutch auto, front-wheel drive
Power (hp): 280@6,000rpm
Torque (lb ft): 289@2,100-4,700rpm
0-62mph: 5.4 seconds
Top speed: 155mph
Weight: 1,455kg
MPG: 33.6
CO2: 191g/km
Price: £36,570 (price as standard; price as tested £36,860 comprised of Atlas White solid paint for £300)
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