Honestly, I never expected to find a seven-seat SUV bristling with so much kit without leaving my wallet crying in the corner. When you compare it with rivals that ding you for every extra feature, the QS Essence almost seems mischievous—slipping goodies into the base model while everyone else charges a premium. Take the standard power tailgate, for instance: little cost to MG, huge convenience for you, especially on those rainy grocery runs. Then there’s the whopping 21-inch alloy wheels that give it a stance more aggressive than many costlier marques would dare to offer as standard. And don’t get me started on the 10.25-inch touchscreen infotainment system, which responds crisply to your commands and makes the cabin feel genuinely connected rather than cobbled together[1]. It’s almost too good to be true—were corners really cut somewhere else to keep the price down?

Step inside and the surprise continues. The leather-trimmed seats cradle you comfortably, six airbags offer peace of mind, and keyless entry ensures you’re never fumbling for the right keycard or remote fob. Early on, I found myself rubbing my fingers along the dash’s soft-touch surfaces, half expecting to hit a patch of hard plastic—but it held up across wide swaths of the cabin. Even so, this isn’t a Maserati; the lower door panels and glovebox still bear a few rigid, less forgiving plastics that feel a tad out of place in an otherwise inviting cockpit[2]. Yet given how many automakers nickel-and-dime you for similar comforts, I found myself shrugging it off. After all, the alternative at this price is usually a bare-bones spec list that would make you regret skipping that extra trim upgrade.

On the road, crisp LED headlamps slice through the dark with surprising authority, while the distinctive rear light bar offers a futuristic signature that even passersby seem to notice. The cabin’s build quality—panel gaps, paint finish, and overall rigidity—continues to surprise for the money. Back in uni, a friend’s family drove a fairly bland mid-range SUV, and I remember thinking, “At least it doesn’t feel like a toy.” Fast-forward to driving the MG QS Essence, and I was thinking the same thing, only this time at nearly half the price of that old car. That said, not every detail hits the same high note: the cheap-looking chrome fake exhausts and oversized badges sometimes scream “budget roots” more loudly than I’d like[3], [5].

One reviewer summed it up nicely: “MG has stocked the QS with an impressive buffet of features, but a few half-baked touches remind you of its budget DNA”[5]. And really, that duality is the whole charm of this machine—splashed-out kit on one hand, small compromises on the other. If you want to see how the QS Essence stacks up in a battle royale of cut-price large SUVs, check out our SUV comparison guide. There, you’ll spot everything from engine specs to cargo-space figures laid out side by side—proof that sometimes the best value isn’t obvious until you see the numbers laid bare.

Performance And Handling

Feel the turbocharged punch of the MG QS Essence, and you momentarily forget it’s lugging five other comrades in the back. Under the bonnet sits a turbocharged 2.0-litre four-cylinder that churns out a healthy 153 kW and 360 Nm. Thanks to a slick nine-speed automatic and all-wheel-drive tract, you’re looking at mid-8-second 0–100 km/h sprints in real-world conditions. That’s no slouch for a vehicle tipping the scales in seven-seat guise. MG’s official claim is 8.8 L/100 km, but honest urban use nudged it closer to 11.3 L/100 km for me—a stat that likely caused the fuel-economy hawks out there to wince[1].

Reviewers have likened its dynamic demeanor to a “slightly European” driving experience, applauding body control and minimal road noise even at triple-digit speeds[1]. I can’t help but agree—take it on a rolling country road and the QS absorbs undulations with poise, the steering offering enough weight to feel confident without ever feeling turgid. Sure, its tall stance and overall heft prevent it from darting through corners like a hot-hatch, but it never tips into unwieldy territory. One late-night twisty run had me wishing for tighter turn-in, yet I was also grateful the suspension kept chatter to a dull hum rather than translating every expansion crack into the cabin.

There are trade-offs, though. The MG Pilot lane-keep assist can be a bit chatty, barking prompts in heavy traffic until you want to yank the fuse out of the dash[2]. And let’s talk about that idle-stop system: it only disengages when you lift off the throttle, not the brake, leading to a mini-dance at traffic lights that feels more like a foxtrot than a smooth transition. Then there’s the low-profile tyre roar—a side effect of those handsome 21-inch rims. Yes, grip is excellent, but you’ll hear every chipseal patch and worn bridge deck. It reminded me of our deep dive into the impact of tyre choice, where we found that high-grip rubber often trades noise for traction.

Fuel economy isn’t scandalous, but it’s certainly higher in city stop-start conditions than the brochure would have you believe. On a mixed highway journey, I hovered closer to 9.2 L/100 km, which felt reasonable given the torque and heft on board. Overtaking felt effortless, and merging onto freeways was a matter of a gentle prod on the accelerator—no need to wring the engine out to hit safe overtaking speeds. If you’re someone who alternates between school runs, supermarket raids, and weekend getaways, the QS balances power and parsimony in a way that distinctly undercuts many rivals charging well over $60k for similar outputs.

Quirks And Downsides

Of course, a bargain-basement price rarely comes with perfection baked in. Engage MG Pilot ADAS, and you’re greeted by relentless voice prompts, persistent warnings, and pop-up alerts that turn a peaceful drive into a test of patience[2]. I caught myself tapping the dash in frustration, hoping for a mute button that simply doesn’t exist. It’s almost comical—passengers joke about wearing earplugs, and I half expect to hear “sorry, that lane-keep warning was brought to you by MG” in a sponsored-by voiceover.

Stop-start functionality brings its own set of quirks. Instead of restarting when you lift your foot off the brake, the system demands you press the throttle. The result? A noticeable shuffle at every set of lights, as though the car is waking up from a nap with a slight groan. It’s an odd UX choice that undermines the Zen vibes other parts of the cabin try to cultivate. Combined with a real-world fuel burn nudging toward 11.3 L/100 km in urban conditions[1], the QS can feel less frugal than its marketing suggests.

Then there are the styling flourishes that don’t quite land. Those shiny fake chrome tailpipes? Plastic masquerading as metal. Oversized badges that look like they were borrowed from a concept car. From a distance, the paintwork and panel gaps remain impressive, but a closer inspection reveals corners cut on trim edges and the occasional misaligned plastic insert[5]. For those wondering whether the current SUV boom is all hype or justified, these little stumbles are a reminder that value often comes with caveats—a lesson we explore further when discussing whether new SUVs are overhyped.

Build Quality And Interior

Slip into the QS Essence’s cabin and you’re immediately struck by how confidence-inspiring the build feels—almost as though it should carry a pricier badge. The panel gaps are razor-thin, and sunlight dances across the paint finish, making the car look far more expensive than its $40k-ish price tag suggests[1]. Run your hand along the dash, and you’ll find predominantly soft-touch surfaces accented by tasteful contrast stitching that gives the interior a bespoke flair. It’s the kind of attention to detail that whispers “we care,” even when you know cost was top of mind.

Yet peek under the surface and you’ll spot compromises—harsher plastics on lower door linings, a glovebox lid that rattles ever so slightly over rough tarmac, and trim pieces that feel hastily assembled. Early one morning, I reached for the ambient footwell lighting switch without looking, only to flick on the roof-mounted reading lamps instead—an unintended reminder that ergonomics aren’t bulletproof here[2]. Still, when night falls, the gentle underdash glow and subtle door-handle illumination lend a cozy warmth that many pricier EVs neglect.

Space is another strong suit. Three rows of seating fit adults more comfortably than you’d expect—thigh support is decent in the second row, and the third seat can handle two lithe passengers for short hops. I once fit six friends plus a duffel bag of snacks into the QS for an impromptu surf trip; nobody complained of claustrophobia, though we did bump knees a few times. Cargo capacity behind the third row hovers around 200 litres, but folding the rearmost seats flat unlocks a cavernous load bay ready for camping gear or flat-pack furniture runs.

Little design flourishes show thoughtful intent: the rotary climate control knobs click satisfyingly, the power-tailgate switch sits exactly where your fingers instinctively reach, and the door-pocket bottle holders are deep enough for a large water bottle without it clattering against the door card. In contrast, the faux-chrome exhaust tips and oversized badges occasionally sour the experience—reminders that this is still a value-engineered SUV. Despite these minor blemishes, the QS Essence nails the core promise: a solid, well-appointed cabin that outguns most rivals at twice the cost.

Overall Impression

At first glance, the MG QS Essence 2025 feels like a bargain-packed adventure waiting on your driveway. Value shines brightest here—with a rich equipment list that includes a power tailgate, crisp LED lighting, bold 21-inch alloys, and genuine leather-trimmed seats—delivered at a price that undercuts many seven-seat competitors[1]. The cabin’s fit and finish punch above their weight: solid paintwork, tidy panel gaps, and a generally robust feel. Yet a closer look reveals too many shiny plastics, chrome-plated faux details, and an ADAS system eager to chatter—quirks that remind you of the QS’s budget DNA[5].

I found the ride surprisingly refined for such a hefty machine, thanks to its adaptive suspension smoothing out bumps with ease, even over those large rims. The turbocharged 2.0-litre engine delivers a confident 153 kW and 360 Nm, though real-world fuel figures climb to around 11.3 L/100 km in urban traffic[1]. Noise intrusion from the low-profile tyres is noticeable on rough surfaces—an audible trade-off for that composed, “slightly European” feel on highways. Quirks temper the charm, but if you prioritise price and equipment over absolute polish, the QS Essence holds its own in a crowded large-SUV field. It’s not perfect, but in the value arena, it’s a contender you can’t ignore.