Two hot Minis, three days apiece. One made me fall head over heels for driving all over again; the other took a little longer to win me over, but it got there in the end
Let’s get the obvious out of the way: the modern Mini isn’t all that mini. Not next to the originals, anyway. I’m talking the tiny tin boxes from an era well before my time. But after two years of shuffling from one roomy electric SUV to the next, lowering myself into the John Cooper Works (JCW) Cooper felt like stepping into something else entirely. Snug. Purposeful. A little bit mischievous and very rebellious.
Over six days, I spent three days apiece with Mini’s two performance-focused offerings: the JCW Cooper, a three- door hatchback cast in the classic mould, and the JCW Aceman, the brand’s electric-only crossover wearing the same racing initials. The same family, the same badge, but two very different personalities, as I would come to discover.
The JCW Cooper: love at first corner
Am I being dramatic if I say this car made me fall in love with driving again? Perhaps. But more than once over those three days, I caught myself smiling, thinking that I hadn’t felt like this behind the wheel in quite a while.
Much of that comes down to the steering. It’s heavy— decidedly, deliciously so—and it rewards you with a sense of connection that has become rare in modern cars. Point the nose somewhere and the Cooper simply goes there, darting about with the eagerness of a terrier let off its leash.
Spot a gap in the next lane? The Cooper darts into it. A green light that’s stayed green a touch suspiciously long? We’re not encouraging it, but the turbocharged four-cylinder has enough punch to make everyday overtaking feel effortless.
In its default setting, the JCW is perfectly happy pottering through the daily grind. Switch to Go-Kart mode, though, and its demeanour sharpens. The throttle responds more sharply, the exhaust note grows more pronounced, and the Cooper turns into the pint-sized troublemaker you secretly hoped it would be.
Then there’s the suspension, which is, let’s say, honest. Every bump, every pothole, and every patch of tired tarmac makes itself known. And you know what? I didn’t mind one bit. That firmness is part of the go-kart-like character so often associated with Mini.
The cabin keeps the sense of occasion going, with cockpit- style toggle switches and that big circular display sitting front and centre. It takes a few minutes to get used to the layout, but its playful graphics soon win you over.
What a hot hatch. I didn’t expect to love it this much, and now I could gush about it all day and night.
The JCW Aceman: has Mini lost the plot?
There’s no mincing words here. When I first took the keys to the JCW Aceman for the weekend, my reaction was: did Mini lose the plot with this one?
The Aceman slots between the Cooper and the Countryman in size, gets five doors and a dash of crossover attitude, and comes only as an electric car. In JCW guise, its front-mounted motor makes 190kW and 350Nm, but you only get all of it by pulling the Boost paddle on the steering column, which unlocks full power for 10 seconds while a countdown plays out across the screen. Without it, you’re working with roughly 170kW. The century sprint takes 6.4 seconds.
Those figures only tell half the story. Floor it from a standstill and the instant electric torque makes the Aceman feel almost frantic, the front wheels scrabbling for grip as the steering wriggles in your hands. It’s theatre, really, and Mini seems to be in on the joke. There’s even a synthesised soundtrack, which you can switch off if it isn’t your cup of tea (it wasn’t for me).
What’s missing is the go-kart feeling so synonymous with the brand. The Aceman is taller and heavier, and it simply doesn’t have the rawness and edge of the JCW Cooper.
And yet, by the end of three days, it had won me round. Quick steering and a reworked chassis make it genuinely enjoyable when the road opens out, while the cabin—a colourful riot of textures and ambient lighting—is a lovely place to sit out a traffic jam. For anyone who likes their performance cars with a playful streak and no shortage of pace, it’s a joy. There’s a little something hiding under all that Mini-ness, if you will.
Pitting these two against each other is a bit like comparing apples with oranges. The JCW Cooper is the purist’s pick: raw, communicative and gloriously old-school in spirit, the kind of car that reminds you why you started driving in the first place. The JCW Aceman is another proposition altogether: more versatile, more playful with its theatrics, and fully electric.
One rekindles the spark; the other proves Mini’s cheeky spirit can survive the switch to batteries. Mini, it turns out, can still be mighty.
