CHARLESWORTH GETS into the red petrol version of the MiTo; I grab the black diesel sibling, and we agree to swap halfway through the test drive, to compare notes. We won’t lie about this – we’re keen to see how good this little Alfa is because we love Alfas here at ‘Dep-O’.

 

True, in almost all cases we’re talking about Alfas that have been out of production for 15 years or more, but get us going on Alfettas, Giulias, SZs, 164s and even 75s (I’ve even got a dirty secret desire for the 33, 145 and 146, but I really should stop there) and we won’t shut up. Like most petrolheads, to us this is a marque that really means something, that excites you just by its merest mention, despite some of the more questionable models punted out over the years. An affordable Alfa with a sparkling chassis, zesty engines and a price tag that doesn’t require you to sell kidneys on eBay represents a mini-Holy Grail for us.

So the disappointment, which arrives barely five minutes into our test drive, is so palpable it has practically manifested itself into a drab grey figure in the passenger seat, shaking its head morosely. This is poor. No, scratch that – objectively, there’s nothing really wrong with any facet of the MiTo’s personality. The steering is OK. The engine is OK. The brakes are OK. The interior is… well, you get the drift. It’s all so… OK. And is that something you should say about an Alfa Romeo? What do you think?

Outside and in, the MiTo does represent a more stylish alternative to the dullards' weapon of choice, BMW's grossly obese Mini.

    We drive the test route in a disinterested manner, and pull over to swap cars. Simon is still sitting in the seat of the petrol as I walk over to the driver’s window; he’s clearly stunned, because he has a much longer emotional attachment to this marque than I do. I lean in, pointing back at the diesel, thrumming away to itself: “That’s about as far from my idea of what an Alfa Romeo should be as it could possibly be.” Simon is more succinct about the petrol. “I think I’m going to cry,” he says, emptily. Nevertheless, we switch cars and repeat the route. And things don’t improve.

    Oh, sure, there’ll be people reading this and fuming (no doubt Alfa’s PR department, for a start), because the MiTo isn’t a bad car. But its innards are Grande Punto, its engine is from a FIAT. Again, there’s nothing wrong with either aspect of the Punto, but it’s not a car you drove around in, thinking to yourself: “Hey, you could make a pretty decent Alfa Romeo out of this.” All right, we’re told the suspension and electronics are all set-up differently for the MiTo, but change the wood on the wagon’s axles and you’re still left with a horse and cart. There’s only so much differentiation you can engineer in when you start with another car’s platform, and in the MiTo’s case there’s not enough room for manoeuvre. It’s… acceptable, in terms of ride, handling and overall verve, and nothing more.

    The turbocharged engines – both representing the most powerful motors available in the range until a GTA version arrives next year – are punchy enough but are uninspiring, with little fireworks at any revs but the expected decent midrange. The dynamics (if I can call them that) are anything but dynamic, no matter which option you choose from Alfa’s DNA three-way switch set-up system (the D actually stands for Dynamic, as well!). The interior is pleasing but no masterpiece, and the looks are inspired by the 8C… what a shame the rest of the MiTo wasn’t. And no, I don’t expect a 14 grand FWD hatch to match the drama of a £111,000 RWD supercar, but they should have some kind of similar genetic spirit, as – for example – a 118d demonstrates BMW traits in the same way as an M6 Convertible.