Lion's pride: Peugeot 508 PSE vs BMW and Volvo rivals

Bookending the Peugeot in the statistical stakes are the BMW and Volvo. The V60 is the most powerful at 399bhp, its 314bhp turbocharged and supercharged 2.0-litre petrol engine driving the front wheels and an 86bhp motor working the back axle. It can go farther on volts too, squeezing 34 miles of EV range out of its slightly larger 11.6kWh battery.

With 289bhp, the 3 Series looks like the weakling of the group, especially as that output is only available in short, 10-second bursts in either Sport or XtraBoost modes (the usual peak is 250bhp). Yet its 12.0kWh battery will carry the car at least 34 miles and, intriguingly, it’s the only one with a proper permanent four-wheel drive transmission, its sole electric motor (111bhp) sitting between the turbocharged 2.0-litre fourcylinder and eight-speed automatic.

Less interesting is the styling: the 330e xDrive Touring looks just like any other M Sport-tinselled 3 Series, which is to say like most you see on the road. The handsome Volvo tries harder, thanks to its 20in multi-spoke alloys and huge gold brake calipers, but at least one of our testers reckoned the Swede is starting to show its age.

However, neither can hold a candle to the 508, which – with its hunkered-down stance, taut lines and aggressive, LED headlight-enhanced scowl – has more than a hint of RS-badged Audi Avant about it. The trio of flicked-up canards set low down on either side the 508 are a bit much, but the lime-green accents make just enough of a statement without being gaudy.

That’s more than can be said for the interior, which for many will tip just the wrong side of try-hard, Peugeot’s i-Cockpit dashboard layout and garish TFT instruments still frustrating as many drivers as they please. However, importantly for an estate, it’s the roomiest here front and back and lavishly equipped, but it can’t match BMW’s top-notch premium appeal and flawless ergonomics, or the Volvo’s cool minimalist aesthetic and superbly embracing seats.

Move away in all-electric mode and the Peugeot and BMW feel the most brisk, while the Volvo’s 86bhp motor struggles a little against a two-tonne kerb weight. Still, as with the 330e, it benefits from the smooth integration of petrol power and electric energy – unlike the Peugeot, which occasionally trips up when tipping in and out of the throttle at low speeds, leading to the odd jerky getaway.

All three, however, deliver a smooth transition between regenerative and friction braking. Here, the BMW is the best of the three, closely followed by the Volvo and Peugeot – although the 508 is less convincing when in energyrecouping B mode, when suddenly the motor and discs seem to take on a tetchier relationship.

Surprisingly, it’s the Peugeot that feels the most relaxed and refined when merely mooching. In their softest setting, the three-way adaptive dampers serve up an admirably supple ride that’s at odds with the arch-filling 20in alloys wrapped in Michelins with a wafer-thin profile.

The equally adaptively damped BMW is stiffer, particularly at low speeds when its run-flat Bridgestones relay too much information about sharper imperfections. And expensive and impressively engineered though they are, the Volvo’s dualflow Öhlins deliver brittle progress over scarred surfaces. Still, you can slacken them off if you wish, although you’ll need a trolley jack and patience to tweak the rear units.

Okay, let’s get a wriggle on, because these three are billed as purveyors of performance above all else. Toggle it into Dynamic mode to access the Volvo’s full-fat performance and there’s no doubt which power source is doing the lion’s share of the work.

While the electric rear motor helps with whizzbang starts, it’s the gruff and vocal twin-charged 2.0-litre that puts in the hard yards. It’s certainly quick, the 4.6sec 0-62mph dash is the fastest here despite the portliest kerb weight of 2021kg (versus 1890kg for the BMW and 1850kg for the Peugeot; none of our trio treads lightly, but then that’s the plug-in way), but there’s a surprising amount of disruptive torque steer, the wheel pulling this way and that in your hands as the V60 scrabbles over cambers and crowns.

There’s no such problem with the BMW, which even when it is deploying the full 289bhp tracks straight and true thanks to a sophisticated four-wheel drive system that effortlessly shuffles torque to where you need it. It also feels far from out of its depth in this company, which is largely down to the excellent integration of the powertrain and the well-calibrated throttle, meaning the car responds instantly to your commands. It’s enough to leave you thinking that a 340 badge wouldn’t look out of place on its rump.

More than that, it is consistently the most efficient. Limited time means we can’t plug our cars in as often as we would like, but the 3 Series is returning well over 40mpg, while its rivals here can only manage high-30s. Obviously, the more you hook up to the mains, the better these figures will get.

Either way, neither rival feels as rapid as the Peugeot, particularly in the mid-ranges, where it is helped along by two electric motors that contribute heartily to the rippling 384lb ft. Yet it is surprisingly serene when catapulting down straights.

The petrol engine is much better insulated than in the other two, even in Sport when all you get is the most distant, electronically augmented growl. It’s not as responsive or as engaging a power unit as the BMW’s, and its eight-speed automatic is not as crisp in its shifts, but it’s mightily effective when you’re in a rush.

There are more surprises when you tip the Peugeot into a corner. Even with the dampers on high alert, the 508 has a lovely fluid feel that used to be a French calling card. The brains at PSE have widened the track by 12mm and lowered and stiffened the springs, but the Peugeot doesn’t pummel the road into submission. Instead it breathes with it, keeping you abreast of what’s going on but neatly filtering out what you don’t need to know.

Yes, the steering is quick, if a little mute, and there’s plenty of turn-in bite, but you pour the Peugeot down the road, slicing through corners with deft, gloriously measured inputs. It’s a car that majors on finesse, its finely honed damping control allowing it to be both languid and alert depending on your mood. Not that many years ago, it seemed that Peugeot’s chassis engineers had lost their mojo; with the PSE, it’s clear the magic has been rediscovered.

By comparison, the BMW feels gnarlier and sharper, a more traditional take on the driver’s car genre, one that’s more keenly keyed into the road surface. Its meaty steering is just as quick as the Peugeot’s yet more talkative, while the car wants to rotate faster into corners, engendering the BMW with great agility.

It’s more immediately invigorating than the Peugeot, but both deliver satisfaction for keen drivers, just in different ways. Both also do a fine job of disguising their increased mass, up to a point. Ask for a sudden change of direction or have a change of heart through a fast sweeper and you can feel the pendulous mass of their rear-mounted batteries. It never gets wayward, but there’s the odd moment of scrappiness at the limit.

This is less of a problem for the Volvo, which keeps the extra weight of the battery between the axles, the cells running up the spine of the car in the transmission tunnel.

Even so, the ever so slightly stolid Volvo proves to be the least dynamic here. Those keep-fit dampers do a great job of controlling vertical movements when hustling hard, but the light steering is aloof and slow, the V60 proving lazier and vaguer in its actions. It’s not that the Volvo isn’t capable or grippy, just that it’s rather one-dimensional in its delivery and, in stark contrast to its rivals, offers few rewards when you push harder.

So it’s the wooden spoon for the Volvo, but that’s probably too harsh a verdict because the stylish and sybaritic (jarring ride aside) Swede is still a quick and capable fast family wagon. Given the price, the fancy dampers and the Polestar expertise, we would expect more of the V60, but in the end it simply lacks dynamic sparkle, or a solid sense of what it’s attempting to be.

Separating the BMW and Peugeot is harder. On paper, the less costly and more instantly engaging 3 Series makes the most sense, although in Peugeot-matching spec as tested it was a similar £55,000. In an increasingly electrified world it’s a smart choice, feeling little different from its more traditional siblings.

However, 2030 is a little way off yet, and unless you’re a company car user, there are equally talented, traditionally powered Touring alternatives that cost quite a bit less.

The thick end off £55,000 is a big ask for a Peugeot, even a very attractive one. Yet there’s something beguiling about the PSE, and its chassis in particular, that makes it difficult to resist. It’s not without flaws, but it’s a plug-in with personality and also represents a welcome and long-awaited return of the truly desirable fast Peugeot. Vive la difference, as they say in France.