Triple test: Vauxhall Maloo v Audi RS6 v Range Rover Sport SVR

The normal way of doing group tests is to gather together some cars from the same class and see which is fastest. Sorry, best.

For industrial-scale load-shifting, for example, we might test a Toyota Hi-Lux, a Nissan Navara and a Mitsubishi L200. That would make sense.

Or when making sense is just too much for us, we might gather together a 537bhp supercharged V8 pick-up, a 597bhp estate car and a 542bhp SUV. So that’s what we’ve got here.

The pick-up is the Vauxhall Maloo R8 LSA, shipped straight from Australia and appended with the badge from Luton to try and convince you it’s not a Holden (which it is). The estate, meanwhile, is the Audi RS6 Performance, and the SUV is the Range Rover Sport SVR. And with that we have a fairly monstrous trio of vehicles which make practicality fun.

What are we going to do with them? We’re going to load them with 300kg of ballast plus a driver and passenger, then record their 0-100-0 times. Because, science.

We’re also going to enjoy the noises that happen while we’re doing this. At least we are in the SVR and Maloo, because the RS6 is as sneaky beaky in its exhaust report as it is in its purposeful but restrained styling.

There’s nothing restrained about the relentless way it accelerates, of course. But if you want theatre, the SVR dishes it up with hilarious largesse. It’s not just the noise, it’s the quality of the noise – a snarling, bellowing, spitting, popping challenge to all comers.

The Maloo is even louder, but it lacks the SVR’s comedy nuttiness. If you do want to put on a show, though, just switch off all the electronics and dump the clutch. It’ll still accelerate like billy-o, but it’ll do it with the back tyres smoking like a dragster. Again, hilarious.

This isn’t a pick-up truck in the sense we know, though. It’s basically a Holden Commodore with a pick-up body on it, which means independent rear suspension instead of the otherwise ubiquitous live axle. You can still squirt it from side to side at low speeds, but while it’s hefty on the ground it doesn’t feel like it might do a front somersault if you hit a speed bump too fast unladen. There’s even some feedback as you light up the back tyres, too, making it more controllable than you’d probably dare to hope.

So, to battle. The Maloo hits 62 in 5.0 seconds and does 0-100-0 in 15.6. Add our heavy load, and the process takes a couple of seconds longer. That’s what you call putting down a marker.

The SVR tears it right back up again. With all-wheel drive meaning not a hint of wheelspin, it returns 4.7 in the big spring. From 0-100-0, though, it’s a little slower at 16.1 seconds.

That’s unladen. Add ballast and driver’s mate and, while it’s still faster to 62, the Maloo has caught up by the time 100 comes along. The SVR takes longer to stop, too. So we’re at risk of seeing something like one of those awful Ashes matches that happen when the Aussies show up to bully Our Boys.

It doesn’t happen, though. Because instead, the metaphorical ball game turns to footy and now it’s the Germans bullying us. Actually, they’re not so much bullying as demolishing, and they’re doing it to all comers.

The RS6 simply destroys the others. Unladen, you’re looking at 3.4 and 13.1 seconds. Add the ballast and it still carves 3.5 seconds out of the Maloo’s time to the ton and back. Between that sensational twin-turbo 4.0-litre V8 and Audi’s four-wheel drive transmission, the combination of power and traction is simply irresistible.

Where it falls down, and yes, this is outwith the rules of play here, is in its always very well contained steering and handling. You need to be going inadvisably fast for this to become entertaining – the rest of the time, the RS6 is a car that’s hilarious in a straight line but bland to steer.

Thing is, the RS6 feels like what it is – a classy, luxurious estate car that’s been modified into a classy, luxurious and crazily fast estate car. And the same sort of accusation can be levelled at the Maloo – a nutty, attention-grabbing thing created by turning a big sedan into a pick-up which, in terms of actual work, is in truth pretty hopeless at the stuff you buy a truck for.

It’s in no way hopeless as a car, of course, especially one in which to be seen. Big, imperious SUVs tend to get hated at a lot because of their Mr-Toad image, but while the Maloo might make some people shake their heads, if you’re into cars it’s more likely to make you laugh. And the same goes for you if you’re driving it.

The SVR, on the other hand, manages to feel like it was always meant to be this way. That might not be a good thing, if you feel the same sense of projected contempt toward all other road users that we did behind the wheel, but its steering weight is perfect and its sheer size and presence suits the towering power of its supercharged V8 very well.

In all of this, it’s the most complete package. But this was a game of three halves.

The Maloo steals your heart with its sheer brashness. The RS6 has, by a long way, won the numbers game. But the most complete way of moving heavy loads at crushing pace? The Range Rover Sport SVR is the unruffled master.

AUTOCAR