Of all the models in Nissan’s stable, arguably the Versa hatchback is the most European. Look carefully and you can see traces of the quirky Renault Mégane in its styling—Renault, of course, has a 44-percent stake in Nissan.

Although it’s being marketed to compete against the likes of the Toyota Yaris, the Chevrolet Aveo, and the Honda Fit, the Versa has them all beat when it comes to power and interior space. For example, it has a wheelbase some 470 millimetres longer than that of the Yaris hatchback, and in the subcompact hatch market this makes a significant difference. The Versa five-door hatchback boasts some 1,427 litres of interior storage space with the back seats folded. You could even argue that models like, oh, the Kia Rondo and the Mazda3 might be considered rivals.

While most of the subcompacts in this corner of the market are propelled by relatively anemic power plants (the Fit develops a modest 117 horsepower), the Versa has a robust 122-horsepower, 1.8-litre engine that can be matched with either a six-speed manual, four-speed automatic, or one-speed Xtronic continuously variable transmission. My tester had the latter transmission, which adds some $1,300 to the car’s price.

I have mixed feelings about this transmission. Although Nissan has programmed in various ratios to improve its drivability and responsiveness, I still find it kind of snatchy or unresponsive at certain speeds, and it’s debatable whether it’s worth the extra money. Now and again, you can catch it unawares when you tromp on the gas pedal, and it takes a beat or two to collect itself, whereas a conventional geared transmission would kick down and snap ahead instantly. Not a big deal, but worth noting.

On the other hand, it does offer the best fuel economy of the three power-train combinations, if not by much. The manual six-speed is just a smidgen thirstier: 7.9 litres per 100 kilometres in town versus 7.5 litres per 100 kilometres for the Xtronic.

But one thing that’s clear is the Versa’s practical nature. There is also a sedan version available, but I would argue that the hatch is the handier of the two. This is a usable, workaday people and cargo carrier that goes about its business without any fuss or complaint. It carries five, and with all the seats folded down you can pack an amazing amount of stuff in back. The Honda Fit, which seems to be the flavour of the month for many buyers, is cramped and Lilliputian by comparison. And it’s more expensive. The Versa hatchback starts at $13,598 for the bare-bones S model, topping out at $21,248 for a loaded SL. You can spend that and more on a Fit, and frankly, you’re not getting as much car for the money. My tester, a nicely equipped SL with the aforementioned CVT and the Technology Package came in at $20,948 in total, after taxes and various extras. Among other things, the Versa hatch comes with air conditioning, tilt steering, power windows and door locks, remote central locking, and front, side, and side-curtain airbags—all the minimum requirements, in other words.

The Technology Package, for those who are interested, consists of a hands-free phone setup, satellite radio, steering-wheel-mounted audio controls, and an upgraded stereo. It costs $950. All things considered, I say save your money.

The Versa hatch isn’t particularly sexy. Its body style is actually kind of frumpy, and it blends in with just about every other subcompact hatchback on the market. There’s nothing about it that makes you stop and say “wow”, and I can’t see it making the rounds with tuners or hot rodders. That said, it’s got more than enough power for in-town traffic, and on the highway my tester was barely turning over at some 1,800 revolutions per minute at 100 kilometres per hour. Of all the subcompacts I’ve driven, the Versa may be the quietest and smoothest of the bunch. Again, the Fit is a loud, rough-riding little shopping cart by comparison.

If I was going to find fault with the Versa, I suppose I could kvetch about the interior layout: bland, uninspiring, and kind of cheap are words that come to mind. But this is an econobox, after all, and for its relatively modest price tag, you’re not going to get polished aluminum or maple-wood trim, are you? I also noted that although the rear seats fold flat, they don’t tumble forward, which would have made this car even roomier than it already is. Still, like every other aspect of this car, the interior layout does what it’s supposed to. No more, no less.