You know how Chery got away with selling the Jaecoo 7 in the UK? The one they call the ‘Temu Range Rover’. It’s getting on like a house on fire.
So you see this thing. The Denza Bao 5. It looks like someone grabbed the design files for a Land Cruiser, a G-Wagon, and a Defender. Maybe even the Grenadier. Mixed them in a bowl. Dumped out a ‘Shein’ replica.
Assume wrong.
It’s not just a pretty face. The Bao 5—previously called the Fangchenbao Leopard 5 at home, then briefly the Denza B5 before lawyers killed that name in Europe—uses actual body-on-frame construction. A real ladder chassis. It doesn’t hide behind unibody softness.
Stats that matter: 310mm ground clearance on the hydraulic suspension. 39-degree approach angle. 537bhp. Twin locking diffs. And a ‘tank turn’ because apparently one wasn’t enough.
It sits on BYD’s DMO platform. Built exclusively for plug-in hybrid off-roaders. The battery, a 31.8kWh LFP Blade pack, is strapped directly to that steel frame.
Here is how it breathes.
A 1.5-liter turbo petrol engine. Mounted longitudinally. It makes 148bhp. On its own. That’s weak tea. But it’s not driving you alone. A front motor adds 268bhp. The rear motor throws down 382bhp. Combined system power? 537bhp with 561 lb-ft of torque.
If you buy the entry-level model, you get standard double-wishbone axles with steel coils. 220mm clearance. It tows 2.5 tonnes. It weighs three tonnes. Give or take a hundred kilos depending on whether you opted for the heavy luxury bits.
But it’s heavy. Heavier than almost any competitor. Most aren’t even electrified like this one is.
You sit in the driver’s seat. You floor it.
You expect violence. You don’t get it immediately.
In default mode, acceleration is… there. Adequate. For a car that weighs as much as a small shed? Sure. But push the pedal hard, look for that 537 horsepower thrum. You hit a wall of delay.
It’s the same ghost from BYD’s DMi hybrids. The electric motors give you that initial shove. Then silence. Then the petrol engine wakes up. Not just to turn over, but to rev high as a generator to feed the batteries. The system needs that voltage to unleash full power.
It takes two or three seconds. Sometimes four. Between you demanding speed and the three-tonne beast deciding to comply. Sport mode shrinks the lag slightly. Doesn’t eliminate it.
Does a 500-bhp SUV feel like 500bhp? Not here.
For 30-70 mph? It’s about on par with a Land Rover Defender D350. Faster than the Ineos Grenadier, which feels like driving a brick wrapped in felt. But brisker than expected? No.
Torque is still good though. Accessible. Good for climbing. Good for towing. Maybe not as raw, unfiltered torque as a diesel V8, but strong enough to pull you up steep slopes or out of deep ruts.
The question nobody wants to answer: what happens when you’re deep in the desert?
Imagine towing your caravan through the Pennines. Or climbing sand dunes for the fifth day straight. The battery drains. The state of charge drops. Does this off-roader become dead weight? A decorative sculpture on the beach?
There’s no reason to think so yet. The range is 56 miles on electric. The petrol engine is always there. But the worry sticks in your mind. You haven’t proven it yet. Further testing needs to confirm this machine doesn’t fold under prolonged off-grid abuse.
On the tarmac, it’s surprisingly civil.
The steering works well. For body-on-frame? Excellent. Medium speed. Good weight. It self-centers intuitively. Visibility is clear. You can place it accurately. It doesn’t feel awkward, despite the bulk.
The ride quality is where it gets tricky.
It isolates bumps nicely. No pickup truck rattle. No live-axle bounce. The suspension absorbs sharp edges without jolting your teeth.
But it’s busy. A bit bumbling. Over asymmetrical bumps, it tosses your head around. On uneven country roads, it shuffles laterally. It lacks the composure of a Defender. Or even the Grenadier, somehow.
Price. Let’s talk about that.
Is it the ‘AliExpress Defender’. Yes. That’s what it looks like.
But look at the tag. £69,500 to start.
That’s Elegance trim. Panoramic roof. 18-inch wheels. Good audio. A decent package. You can’t buy a new Defender 110 for that. You certainly can’t touch a Land Cruiser.
Want the good stuff? The ‘Ultimate’ trim. £78,000.
Still cheaper than a Land Cruiser. You get the DiSus-P hydraulic suspension. The kind that gives you that extra ride height and active damping. Nappa leather. Digital rearview mirror. Running boards that pop out.
Is it worth the hassle.
This was our second drive. A short one. It left us impressed. The space is massive. The on-road refinement is good for a truck.
But we were disappointed by two things.
- The powertrain feel. It feels hesitant. Lazy at first touch.
- The hydraulic suspension. It promises world-class capability, but on mixed UK roads, it feels unsettled. Not sophisticated.
The big question remains. Did BYD make this car too tough. Too heavy. Too expensive.
Will British buyers trust Denza with their lives when going off-road. A new brand with zero off-road heritage. When Toyota and Land Rover have decades of muscle memory.
Would a cheaper, lighter, softer SUV have sold faster? Maybe 20 percent cheaper would have won more hearts.
In the short term? Yes.
In the long term? No.
Credibility doesn’t happen by accident. You have to earn it. By building the tank that works. The one that doesn’t quit when the battery dies.
This looks like it means business. Let’s see if the rest of the world does.
