Audi TT TDI vs BMW 225d vs VW Scirocco TDI vs Pug RCZ HDI

Zed. Delete. Zed. Delete. Zed. Aargh. The new Audi TT isn't off to a particularly auspicious start, and I haven't even left the bunker beneath TopGear HQ. Finally, the MMI's click wheel touchpad concedes that I'd like a postcode featuring a 2, not a Z, once I've drawn a particularly opulent looping number. The route north appears after an impressively swift load time in the 12.3in virtual cockpit screen that overlooks the steering wheel's tiny central boss. So, the new TT's touchpad can't read my left-handed writing. Here endeth my complaints about its cabin.

Pictures: Jamie Lipman

This feature originally appeared in the January 2015 issue of Top Gear Magazine

A predictable refrain, given we crowned the third-gen TT our Coupe of the Year last issue, largely on account of its 22nd-century interior. But hold fire on that angry letter about the press conspiracy to favour posh German metal, and take 10 minutes out of your weekend to blag some TT seat time. Doubtless one of Audi's terrifying palatial dealers is nearby. If you're not suitably wowed by the jet-inspired vents, housing climate control dials in a Russian-doll arrangement of functionality, or the pleasingly dished concept-car steering wheel, I'd check you didn't knock yourself unconscious on the A-pillar as you stepped inside.

Audi's latest TT isn't above criticism, but you simply can't argue with the stats of this TT TDI ultra. Its Golf GTD-nicked 2.0-litre turbodiesel four-pot develops 182bhp and a TTS-matching 280lb ft, yet offers company car drivers a 110g/km CO2 rating. Retail buyers pay Mr Osborne 20 quid in tax. Small wonder the GTD outsold the Golf GTI six-to-one last year.

Considering the powertrain achieves 62mph in 7.1secs, I'd have to stick my head above the parapet besieged by keyboard warriors who berate diesel-fuelled drivers' cars and ask: "From an all-round sporty coupe, what more, exactly, do you want?"

Of course, they - and you - would be perfectly entitled to reply: "Usable back seats, please, or an as-tested price south of 30 grand. And how about a bit more poke and rear-wheel drive, like a proper sports car?" So, the TT is joined by three key rivals that appear to have the head-and-heart-appeal bases covered. VW's recently facelifted Scirocco has joined the Audi on the prettily illuminated banks of the Tyne, packing the same 2.0 TDI engine in a lesser 148bhp state of tune, and a more reasonable £27k asking price to match. The Peugeot RCZ, also post mid-life refresh and owing more than a tip of the beret styling-wise to the Audi, has the least impressive economy stats here, but it's also the cheapest and, from the rear-three-quarter angle, the most visually arresting. And what of BMW's new 2-Series? The replacement for the 1-Series Coupe, conforming to BMW's promise that all even-numbered cars will henceforth have two doors. Let's pretend the 2-Series Active Tourer never happened. Please.

The BMW, resplendent in 225d M Sport trim, joins us in an icy Gateshead. It's a full 30bhp and 50lb ft brawnier than anything else here. An unfair fight? Not quite - when you eye up the numbers, a £33k standard example is bang on TT TDI S line money (our TT is a basic Sport version, carrying a smattering of extras). The four-cylinder 225d enjoys an eight-speed automatic gearbox as standard, while all the others here have manual six-speeders.

Despite the Scirocco owing its existence to the defunct Golf MkVI, it's the 2-Series that feels most closely related to a regular hatchback here - the cabin is all 1-Series. An ergonomic, logical environment, no doubt, but lacking any sense of occasion. The only Easter egg inside is a pair of odd storage silos, shaped like Wall-E's eye pods, the funniest thing this side of watching a passenger try to exit the RCZ's rear ‘seats' with any modesty left intact.

Given the BMW is so generic inside, and turns the fewest heads of our quartet, it's easy to rule it an outsider here, a sports coupe in name but not in character. Do so at your peril. Several nights after we shot the cars on Tyneside, I dropped into the BMW's low-set driving position at Heathrow's Terminal 5, tired, hungry and glad to be out of the evening drizzle. By the time I'd negotiated the exit barrier, the seat was lightly roasting my backside - the 2-Series has, heated or not, the most supportive, comfortable and best-located chairs in this test. In the traffic leading up to T5's roundabout, I toggled Sport mode via the dynamic chassis control rocker switch, half interested to see if the heavier steering distracted me from the unpleasantly squidgy M Sport wheel rim.

In truth, I wasn't really on the ball, and 332lb ft doesn't take nights off. A faint zzzdzzddd from the right rear wheel soon betrayed that some electronics had taken over sorting the back axle out while I busied myself with some corrective action up front. "My, my, that's lively," I didn't mutter.

Yes, the rear-drive BMW is pretty lively if you're a yob, not concentrating, or both. Sit up and finesse your inputs and it all comes good. The 2 has a balance and engagement that the front-drivers struggle to replicate, even if the TT boasts more accurate steering, despite the corrupting influence of front driveshafts. But the sit-up-and-beg Beemer also feels like it has the lowest CoG in fast direction changes, and its short wheelbase makes it livelier than a 4-Series. Small dimensions enhance its wieldiness - it's much more sporting than it is mini-GT. Prosaic as an item, for sure, but it's a cracking drive.

So is the Scirocco, in a more rough 'n' ready, in-yer-face way. Yes, this particular example is hamstrung by a power output one rung below the Audi's (you can have the same 182bhp diesel in the Roc, and both you and the car deserve it, but that version isn't available to test just yet) and anyway, it doesn't stop this VW being a hoot. This R-Line version has sensational stance on 19in alloys pinched from the old R flagship, even if the rest of the facelift updates are more questionable. The front bumper has undeservedly grown GTI-aping plastic strake stubble, channelling vital cooling toward the indicators. And what the rear gains with intricately detailed LED lights, it loses with fake plastic brake vents.

Ironically, the Scirocco's brakes were the least impressive in this test. I suspect the painted-on tyres and resulting fidgety ride upset the anti-lock system. Learn to drive around the weedy braking and the Roc still entertains, even this many years on from our first exposure and its victory in TG's 2008 Car of the Year awards. The steering is direct and offers something approaching feel via its electric power assistance, while the wheel itself is also a delight, being the same perfectly shaped item from the latest Golf R, minus radar cruise buttons.

Through fast, linked-up bends, the front wheels scrabble (this car did without the £205 XDS electronic ‘front diff') and the overall impression is unrulier than the sneeringly mature Audi, which has body control to spare. Here, the TT's 1,265kg kerbweight - 110kg less than the non-MQB VW and more than 200kg lighter than the others - makes itself deftly obvious.

I'd bet the Scirocco is no slower than the Audi from corner entry to exit, but its inferior body control means it feels harder work. The Audi is undoubtedly the better-mannered machine. For others (me included), the Scirocco's refinement foibles make it the more involving drive.

To inject a sense of humour into the cabin, VW has hit on the US muscle-car ploy of gauges. It says the extra dashtop clock faces are a nod to the original Scirocco's, but don't be fooled - they're a parts-bin addition from the Beetle Turbo.

Excitable needles can't disguise the Scirocco's laughter lines. The monochrome instrument screen is Casio-spec. Some plastics are shabby. The pokey 5in touchscreen operates remarkably swiftly, but its graphics are pure Game Boy. Both screens can be upgraded at suitably exorbitant cost, but R-Line trim really ought to throw it in on the house.

No amount of optional kit would stop the RCZ feeling dated inside. When was the last time you drove a new car that didn't have a single button on the steering wheel? The lack of controls is less a McLaren 650S-esque sop to driving purity and more a tell-tale sign that the RCZ is based on the ancient last-gen 308. Inside, the Pug feels decades behind the Audi. Not just in tech terms: the screen is ironically easier to navigate than Peugeot's more recent touch-sensitive efforts. No, it's the cantilevered driving/birthing position, which fails to take advantage of the low-set seat, and the value-range materials that grate.

After the Ferrari-quick, two-turns-between-locks Audi steering, having a whole extra turn of lock to heave around in the hydraulically assisted Peugeot feels archaic. It's usefully less nervous at high speed, but the payoff is cumbersome clumsiness everywhere else. It's also the noisiest car here, with the most raucous engine and it just edges the VW for tyre roar and low-speed ride discomfort.

That's not to say the RCZ can't entertain - the six-speed gearchange is sweet and all the better without the dubious XXL gearknob à la nouveau 308, and it's entertainingly mobile at the rear if you're prepared to provoke it. Otherwise, the nose-heavy Pug is off the pace. If anything, it proves what a blinder Peugeot Sport played whipping the RCZ-R into shape.

Last place then, goes to the ageing Peugeot, which remains a sensational rear in search of some wits, but the German trio is hard to split. The BMW is easily the best drive here, but with adaptive suspension, a power advantage and an as-tested price approaching £40k, it should be. As a vehicle to ignite desire and envy, it falls flat except to a very knowing few. It therefore ties with the Scirocco, which counters its creaky cockpit with usable rear seats, tenacious handling and ice-cool looks.

And the Audi? Beyond its rolling refinement, build quality and efficiency - all best on test - the TT succeeds as an item to savour, even though Audi's bodywork bashers could and should have been allowed further off the leash. It's also more agile and responsive than you'd imagine, especially if previous TTs are your reference point. As an all-rounder, it marginally takes victory, teaching its rivals how everyday coupes should behave, and its drivers a lesson in neater handwriting.