How the Opel Frontera Reinvented Itself and Why It Might Surprise You

When a carmaker tries to resurrect a model name from the past, the result is usually something that looks retro, sounds like a PR exercise, and drives like a compromise. But not always. Occasionally, something emerges that’s more than just reheated leftovers wearing a familiar badge. The Opel Frontera, once known as the “poor man’s Range Rover,” is back. Only this time, it’s not the rugged, body-on-frame SUV your uncle used to take off-roading in the early '90s. Instead, it’s a model his city-dwelling grandkid would be happy to promote on TikTok.

The Frontera is no longer the jungle-bashing, frame-based best-seller that once topped European charts and was at home splashing through muddy gravel roads. Today’s Frontera is a city dweller in sneakers and a T-shirt who has heard of mountain climbing but prefers the shopping mall parking lot, where the only obstacle is a narrow parking bay.

To call this a “new version” is misleading. This Frontera is like a film remake: same name, different plot, new genre, and a likely shift in audience. The previous generation could tow a boat, offered a comfy seat, and was notorious for being stolen within a week of ownership. The new version, though, prompts a different question: “Does it share its platform with Peugeot?” Yes—and not just the platform. This is where French underpinnings and a German badge team up to win over families, or at least their hearts.

Is that a bad thing? Yes and no. Die-hard off-road fans might feel like they ordered barbecue and got a vegan burger. But for most people—and let’s be honest, there are a lot more of them—the Frontera offers nearly everything needed. It’s spacious, has personality, and with electric versions, it can show off at a Sunday farmers’ market with a clean conscience.

In short, the 2025 Frontera is like a former rocker now wearing a tie and working in real estate: not as charismatic or rebellious, but perhaps a better fit than anyone expected. And you can safely assume it’s no longer a top target for thieves—though for more reasons than one.

The new Frontera refuses to be modest. It wants to be noticed. While it’s not a Range Rover or even a Subaru Outback-level off-roader, it exudes confidence, as though it just crossed a bog, even if it’s spent more time in city neighborhoods sipping coffee from a reusable cup.

The design language follows Opel’s latest “Bold and Pure” trend. That translates to a face as tough as a German boxer, but with lines as clean as Scandinavian kitchen furniture. The front is dominated by the now-signature Opel Vizor grille, acting like a brow over narrow LED headlights that seem to size you up in the parking lot. Centered in the grille is the flat new black “Blitz” logo, which in GS trim is unchromed and blends in so well, it’s almost invisible—a subtle jab at those who flaunt their badges.

The front bumper is shaped like a trapezoid—not something most people measure, but it gives the car a suitably aggressive look. Black protective elements add a hint of SUV ruggedness, while plastic wheel arch and sill guards suggest the Frontera isn’t afraid of gravel, even if deeper mud might be too much.

From the side, the Frontera is angular and boxy, a trait inherited from the Crossland. But it adds its own touch with a unique C-pillar that visually separates the rear and creates a silhouette that, from a distance, might remind you of a smaller Land Rover—if you’re optimistic or your glasses are foggy. Muscular press lines run along the hood as if the designers spent time at the gym. The straight roofline hints at room for a possible third row while keeping things compact and tidy—like a crisply ironed shirt with a map in the pocket that no one actually uses.

The rear is surprisingly practical: a large tailgate and L-shaped taillights give it a two-level look, almost as if Volvo had a hand in the design, though perhaps too Scandinavian for Opel tastes. The roof spoiler is understated—like a conservative uncle who doesn’t dance but never misses a wedding.

GS trim takes the package up a notch: two-tone exterior, 17-inch alloys, black accents, and an overall attempt at a premium vibe. Then there’s the whip antenna. Yes, in 2025. In a world where even coffee machines have WiFi, the Frontera’s roof sports something that’ll likely snap off at the first car wash. It’s as if everything was done right, then someone decided to wear socks over their sneakers.

The cabin feels like a well-equipped, functional loft—everything is designed to be used, not just shown off, and that’s a compliment. The Frontera isn’t trying to be something it isn’t; it offers a practical, well-thought-out interior that works. Like a German tool: not always beautiful, but reliable when others have failed.

The first thing you’ll notice is the Pure Panel, Opel’s twin-screen setup with two 10-inch digital displays (in 2025!). The digital instrument panel gives you clear, precise information without the gimmicks. The infotainment screen is slightly angled toward the driver. The graphics are sharp, the animations smooth, and the color coding for hybrid modes—white for standard, blue for electric—adds mood lighting without needing extra gadgets.

One of the Frontera’s biggest charms: buttons. Real, old-school, physical buttons and dials, not just glass surfaces you have to swipe awkwardly while driving. The climate controls have proper buttons, and there are switches near the steering wheel to, for example, silence the speed warning before it tests your patience. Sensible touches.

Materials are mostly hard plastics, but well-finished and well-assembled—not cheap, just robust, like a self-assembled cabinet that doesn’t creak. Handy little touches include elastic straps around cup holders and a Flex-strap on the center console to hold a tablet or lunchbox. Someone has definitely put some thought into these details.

The Intelli-Seat front seats are designed for long-distance comfort, with some versions using recycled upholstery—fitting for a “green but not poor” positioning. The driver’s seat is adjustable, but the passenger seat lacks height adjustment, so anyone over 185 cm may feel like a parade tank commander. The central tunnel is a bit low at your feet, forcing your legs against a hard edge, which isn’t comfortable. The only soft surfaces are the armrests on the door panels, which are still not quite soft enough—after three hours, it’s all about endurance.

Storage is ample: door pockets, glovebox, and hidden tricks. USB ports are everywhere, and a cooled wireless charging pad shows someone in engineering cared. The rear seats offer good knee and headroom for average adults, with a low central tunnel making the middle seat usable. There are reading lights and grab handles in the back, but no rear air vents—so summer trips may feel like a mild sauna.

The trunk is 460 liters as standard, up to 1,600 liters with seats folded—practical by any measure. The floor is height-adjustable and the loading sill is low enough for grandma to lift in a watermelon without back pain.

Opel keeps things simple with two trims: Edition and GS. Even the Edition gives you more than you’d expect from a budget German brand: phone mount and 10-inch display included. GS gets you everything you want: CarPlay, navigation, climate control, and an audio system that at least tries to sound decent.

There are some quirky touches. The ignition key turns in the barrel like it’s 2005; after turning, there’s a delay before the engine starts, just like pressing a button, only without the button. The window switches: one-touch down, but you have to hold the button to go up. Or the old PSA group switches that feel like leftovers from a parts bin cleanout. These are not deal-breakers, just reminders that the price starts around €23,000 and compromises had to be made.

Where the old Frontera meant a gruff diesel that smoked and grumbled, the new one hums with modern, quieter, and more intelligent tech. It’s no longer a mountain climber, but a city SUV ascending the technology ladder with an eye on the environment.

There are two hybrids, both using Stellantis’s 1.2-liter three-cylinder petrol engine paired with a 48-volt hybrid system. Unlike mild hybrids that only help at low speeds, the Frontera’s full hybrid places the electric motor inside the gearbox to actively assist. The 21 kW electric component may sound small, but around town, it adds noticeable zip.

The six-speed dual-clutch automatic is smooth enough to make bigger brands blush. Both Hybrid 100 and the more powerful Hybrid 136/145 use the same setup, but if you want life easier, go for the stronger one. With 145 hp and 0–100 km/h in 9.1 seconds, it’s no sports car, but among its class, it’s quick to respond. Impressively, the hybrid starts off with the feel of a pure electric, especially at low speeds where the petrol engine sleeps and the electric motor does the work. Around town, you can cover up to half your journeys on electric power alone—and this isn’t just brochure talk.

As for driving, the Frontera doesn’t pretend to be sporty. The comfort-tuned suspension soaks up city potholes like a calm family man: unhurried, unflappable, and dignified. In corners, there’s some body roll, but not excessive, and the steering, while not razor-sharp, is nicely weighted and predictable. It’s not heavy to turn, nor toy-like, and it stays neutral in bends unless pushed too hard—a testament to good balance and engineering.

Then there’s the electric Frontera. If the hybrid is a quiet office worker, the EV is that same person after a yoga retreat and discovering oat milk. With 83 kW (113 hp), acceleration to 100 km/h in about 12 seconds is hardly breathtaking, but that’s not the point. The Frontera Electric is for those in no rush, who want to move quietly and emission-free. Range is about 305 km from the small 43.8 kWh battery—enough for city and suburban use. A larger battery version with 400+ km range is coming. The EV is quiet, vibration-free, and even better balanced, thanks to the battery pack in the floor lowering the center of gravity.

Hybrid fuel consumption is officially 5.2–5.3 l/100 km, typically around 6 l/100 km in real life—a good result for a B-segment SUV. On the highway, it’s a bit higher.

When you hear “safety” and “B-segment SUV,” you might picture cheap plastic, two airbags, and hope for the best. But Opel’s new adventurer comes loaded with tech that wouldn’t be out of place a class up. Even base models have modern safety aids: automatic emergency braking that can spot cars and pedestrians, lane keep assist with mild steering intervention, and driver attention monitoring. There’s adaptive cruise with speed limit recognition. All standard.

GS trim adds even more: front and rear parking sensors, blind spot warning, rear camera, rain and light sensors, and a full suite of driver aids. Stellantis didn’t skimp where it counts.

There are a few missteps: the rear center seat has no headrest, so it’s best for a child, backpack, or tough relative. The backup camera could be sharper, resembling an early 2000s digital camera. But some basics are just right: a 12V socket in the trunk for a cooler or grill, wide-opening rear doors for easy child seat installation.

The Frontera is built on Stellantis’s well-proven platform. No Euro NCAP score yet, but the fundamentals are there for four or five stars. The structure is stiff, development up to date, and modern electronics keep things safe, even if the driver gets distracted.

Competitors include the Dacia Duster and Jogger, both cheaper by about €5,000 but less equipped, and the Toyota Yaris Cross, which costs about €3,000 more than the Frontera. The Frontera has its own strengths: Dacia’s ruggedness isn’t for everyone, and the Yaris Cross’s appearance is divisive. So the Frontera should find its niche.

Then there’s the Citroën C3 Aircross—the Frontera’s platform twin. Same mechanics, but a softer suspension, cartoonish looks, and a more budget interior. It’s even cheaper, especially if you’re fine with petrol only. The Citroën is like a southern holiday: fun if your mood is light and expectations low. The Frontera, on the other hand, is ready for workdays, November weather, and a more serious driver.

For those after a sensible, well-designed, and affordable family SUV that won’t make you cringe but won’t leave you cold, the Frontera steps up, tie on, sandals on feet.

Frontera highlights:
- Space and flexibility: Five adults fit comfortably. Trunk (460–1,600 liters) impresses rivals.
- Hybrid tech: Economical yet lively. Electric driving in town, capable on the highway.
- Comfort and handling: Suspension smooths bumps better than many pricier cars. Steering is accurate enough at speed.
- Modern yet simple interior: Physical buttons, two 10-inch screens in GS trim, logical layout.
- Price and equipment: From €22,900 (hybrid) and about €26,390 (electric), it offers more for your money than many similarly priced competitors.
- Safety: Even base models have emergency braking, lane keep assist, driver monitoring, and six airbags. GS adds more features.
- Design: “Bold and Pure” means eye-catching but not overdone. Hood lines and Vizor grille add character.
- Smart solutions: Flex-strap, elastic cup holders, two-level trunk floor, and smartphone-based infotainment show designers paid attention.

Things to keep in mind:
- Hard plastics inside: Durable, but competitors like Renault Captur offer softer, more appealing interiors.
- Old-school touches: Key ignition and window switches remind you it’s a value-focused car.
- Noise: The three-cylinder engine can drone under acceleration—not dramatically, but noticeable.
- Only front-wheel drive: Fine for a city SUV, but old-school Frontera 4x4 fans may be disappointed.
- Entry trim lacks a center screen: Base models rely on a smartphone for infotainment, which may not suit everyone.

It’s this paradoxical blend of ruggedness, practicality, and tasteful design that is the Frontera’s real strength. The Spanish name “Frontera” means “border.” And this Opel is moving the boundaries—not with a revolution, but just enough to matter.