You can tell a lot about a car’s character from the material covering the inside of its A-pillars. Cheap, brittle little cars have pillars garnished with the type of plastic that photocopier paper trays are made of. Expensive, plush cars have smartly upholstered fabric pillars that invite a casual backhand stroke.

Usually, it’s a pretty clear-cut affair: fabric or plastic. Good or bad. But the revised MiTo is deceptive. For three whole days, we thought the pillars were fabric… and true to analogy, the car stood up well. It felt premium and strokeable.
The premium-ness actually comes from a couple of new MultiAir engines – the most newsworthy of a variety of changes that took place at the end of 2009. Instead of the valves being moved by the camshafts, they’re controlled electronically in a manner that can either boost economy or power. Sounds simple, but making an engine’s valves move independently of engine speed is ruddy smart. Feels it too.

At low revs, the 135bhp turbocharged 1.4 MultiAir engine fitted to our mid-spec £16k Veloce model (there’s also an £18k 170bhp Cloverleaf version) is quiet and docile, but torquey and flexible. Ask it to do something more interesting and it changes character entirely, giving a surge that you’d never think was coming from such a small capacity. The combination of 50.4mpg, 129g/km and 8.4 second 0-62mph time give paper-proof to the tarmac impression.

The strokeability comes from gently caressed steering software. The MiTo used to feel like it had been programmed by the chap that engineered Sega Rally – a light, numb action with inconsistent resistance trying to emulate genuine weight. It was bad. Now though, it’s better… and the body control and general nimbleness are still just as respectable as they have always been.
For the first three days of our week with the MiTo, those were our impressions. Clever engine, improved steering, decent dynamics and pleasantly upholstered A-pillars. But then we got stuck in a traffic jam and it all started to unravel. In a moment of boredom, a restless index finger stretched out like E.T to touch a pillar and – O M Flipping G. They’re plastic. It’s a fake! Closer inspection of the whole car was of course now required. So instead of waiting in the traffic jam and marvelling at the Start/Stop system, we turned off and took the rurals… and it didn’t go that well.

Look past the clear improvements to the steering and the persistent faults of the MiTo’s set-up remain. There’s still a dead spot in the middle, a lack of feedback and an impression that any apparent ‘weight’ that builds through a corner is actually a computerised, artificial response instead of a physical, rubbery one.

Tuning into the car over the A-roads that people used before the M42 existed, more faults revealed themselves. The gearchange, which to our pre-pillar revelation selves had basically felt fine, was baulky and vague under closer inspection. The engine, which is easily the car’s strongest feature, developed an attitude problem if asked to do anything useful above 5,000rpm. The car’s ability to deal with any significant lumps was noisily absent too. The MiTo showed itself up to be dynamically inferior to not just the Mini, but also the Citroen DS3.

Thought turned to the MiTo’s DNA system, which adjusts throttle response and steering weight from All-weather to Normal to Dynamic. Being human, we’d always switched the MiTo to Dynamic for the sharpest responses… but now, in a move to find a better set-up, it was switched back to Normal. Perhaps this would reveal more a more natural side, with a smoother power delivery and less computerised resistance to the steering. Not a chance. It just makes the throttle so baggy that you genuinely think you’re in third when pulling away from a junction.

Then we got back home, still annoyed that the car had tricked us into thinking it had fabric A-pillars, not plastic ones. And the deception sums it up well. On the face of it, the MiTo is desirable, smartly engineered and good to jaunt about in; a car you’d buy if you want a Mini but can’t stomach actually buying a Mini. Initially, the MiTo is also just as satisfying to drive as the German too – but there’s a numbness and artificiality lurking beneath the surface – cheap plastic where you expect nice fabric, and dynamic niggles where you expect simple pleasures. If you never delve beneath the surface of a car, the MiTo will be fine… just don’t look for any hidden depths. You might scratch the A-pillars.