Suzuki dashboards, no matter where they are encountered, all tend to feel about the same.
The Celerio’s well-ordered collage of cut-rate black plastic is par for the course – as is the kind of hard-boiled durability that you’d expect from a toddler’s play set.
Handsomeness, of the upmarket sort striven for by European designers, appears to be of peripheral concern. Instead, Suzuki seeks merely to put everything in its proper place and then ensure that whatever it is functions correctly for the next 10,000 or so clicks and twirls.
At the Celerio’s price bracket, we’re inclined to favour such simplicity. Better that, for example, than a PSA Peugeot Citroën designer’s idea of quirkiness. Of course, it’s practicality that defines how the Celerio looks from the outset. That apple-box squareness is the result of keeping the roofline from slanting at the rear.
As promised, the resulting head room is plentiful. However, the number of potential occupants implied by the middle seatbelt is less credible. With two man-sized road testers in the back row, even a Lilliputian would struggle to fit in the modicum of daylight left in between.
In fact, with the opposing seatbelt buckles less than 25mm apart, it’s tough to imagine the person – one presumably too large for a child’s seat – Suzuki envisages filling such a perch. Assuming it’s left empty, the remaining passengers are well catered for. Taking for granted the usual city car limitations, adults won’t have cause to complain during journeys of a modest duration.