Fast, affordable, and ripe for modifying, hot hatches are the muscle cars of our generation. But they're also smart in the way big muscle never was. They use high-tech materials to keep their bodies lean and turbos to combine sports-car speed with 34-mpg economy. They don't need monster power to perform or entertain.

These are sophisticated back-road tools, the kind of vehicles that any car nut would love to own, if only he could put his prejudices aside. Cars that cost $25,000, but in terms of pure fun and inner-ear involvement, could be garaged next to a Porsche or Ferrari worth 10 times as much. They'd genuinely give you pause for thought when you had to reach—GTI or GT3?—for a set of keys.

In 2014, two of the very best hot hatches got better. Though in accordance with their history of careful evolution, they may seem like reboots of old TV shows, both the Volkswagen Golf GTI and Mini Cooper S are all new this year. New statements, same intent.

Josh Scott

Of course, according to the law of the tape measure, these cars aren't comparable. The Golf comes with two or four doors and seats five. The Mini is best considered a two-plus-two until next year's stretched-wheelbase four-door arrives. That's okay; we'll leave the rumination over the "hatch" bit to the pedants. We're here to think about the "hot."

A poor guy in an old Porsche Boxster waiting unprepared at a stoplight won't have much to celebrate after he's been smoked by a front-wheel-drive compact. This year's base GTI makes 210 hp from a turbocharged four, up from 200 hp, and our test car's optional Performance package doubles that gain, for 220. That's the kind of power a Bugatti Veyron loses between the couch cushions, but factor in a curb weight 82 pounds lighter than the old GTI's, and you've got a car that'll run to 60 mph in 5.8 seconds.

Sure, you can buy cars that'll rearrange your organs like a shotgun blast at close range, but how much of that performance can you actually use, day in and day out? How long can you keep your right foot planted before you have to back out, frustrated, barely scratching the surface of the car's potential?

Josh Scott

Less power means more opportunity to use it. You can row cars like the GTI out to their limiters time and again, all under a cloak of invisibility imparted by those demure, two-box lines. It's like being a bull in a china shop run by the deaf and blind.

And you know what? Even in the context of megapower modern performance cars, the GTI still feels amusingly quick. With an extra 51 lb-ft of torque in its latest iteration, the Golf is fast enough that it's never bogged down behind dawdlers, that it tosses off multicar passing maneuvers without breaking a sweat.

VW's interior materials are improved. Still plaid, still rad.

But it's not just the modest kick in the back that impresses about the GTI. It's that everything works so well together. It's your spine compressed into some of the best-dressed, most comfortable seats in the business, with pedals positioned more precisely than tableware at a White House dinner; a gauge pack easier to read than a bad hand at New York's Poker School; a manual shifter so fast and sweet that you have to question the logic in paying $1100 for the dual-clutch alternative.

Josh Scott

And in the latest 2.0-liter turbo engine, you've got a motor that manages to spread power evenly across the rev range while still digging in hard when you stretch it out to its 6100-rpm redline. It's more than just the performance that makes you question the cylinder count. This thing sounds monster-motor good, too, at least in Sport mode.

Back at the impromptu stoplight drag race, the Boxster man consoles himself with the Mini's scalp. The Porsche and, more to the point, the Volkswagen are more than the Cooper S can handle. This year's S bucks the downsizing trend by moving from 1.6 to 2.0 liters, which corresponds to an additional 8 hp and 30 lb-ft. That gives it 189 hp—some 21 hp under the Golf—but then, the Mini is carrying 339 fewer pounds. It's not enough. The Mini takes 6.4 seconds to reach 60 mph, leaving it more than a half-second adrift.

In the Golf, there's a lot less fuss. If the Mini makes you look like a hero, the GTI is a medal of valor presentation on wheels.

But having just waxed lyrical about a car that's only moderately quick, can we really knock one that's a tick or two slower? No, and besides, this is one area where the human g-meter and the real thing don't see eye-to-eye. The Cooper still feels punchy and has plenty to commend it. The manual transmission isn't quite as slick as the Golf's, but it is all new this year, as flickable as the steering, and finally comes with a shift knob that doesn't feel like the top half has come off in your hand.

Josh Scott

At the shifter's base, you'll find a lever controlling the Mini's three driving modes. The now-obligatory efficiency setting delivers a throttle response so soggy, it inadvertently mimics the yawning turbo lag of that 1000-hp Toyota Supra you created in Gran Turismo. You'll likely use it once and never touch it again.

Sport mode, though, you'll come back to. Engage it by flicking the lever to the left, and a graphic on the dash display explains you now have "maximum go-kart feel," either a bit of relief from the VW's po-faced Germanness or an excruciating example of the Disneyfication of speed, depending on your point of view. Unarguably welcome, however, are the muted pops and chuffs that Sport ushers from the Mini's center tailpipes, along with sparkier throttle response and an automatic rev-matching function on downshifts that's so annoyingly perfect, the bastard love child of James Brown and Walter Röhrl couldn't do a better job.

As good as the deconstructed experience is, the Mini's constituent parts don't gel like the GTI's. The driving position never feels as natural, or the controls as intuitive, although the speedo and tach are, finally, both mounted firmly ahead of the driver; that giant hoop in the dash now houses an infotainment display that appears to be framed by glow sticks.

Josh Scott

Throw a few curves into the mix, and it's the same story: cohesive unity versus the fleeting brilliance of individual components. The Mini shines in places, its short wheelbase granting it the agility you expect from a Cooper S, the wider track making it feel as firmly planted as trees. We liked its steering, the way it dives into turns, the reassuring feel of the brake pedal.

And it has plenty of torque to corrupt those front wheels, too—or it would if not for Mini's electronic differential lock. It's a brake-based system akin to that on a base GTI, nipping the rotor of a spinning inside wheel to help turn the car and redistribute torque across the axle (although VW's system goes one further and also brakes the inside rear wheel). Get right-foot-heavy into a corner and the Cooper subtly dials out your excess, the gently blinking stability-control light letting you know the car is making you look good, not the other way around.

In the Golf, same curve, same speed, same amount of gas, there's a lot less fuss. If the Mini makes you look like a hero, hurling the GTI through bends is a medal of valor presentation ceremony on wheels. Both cars use struts up front and a multilink rear axle. Both send their power solely to the front wheels, but our test Mini's all-season rubber can't match the stick of our test GTI's summer tires.

Josh Scott

There's something else, though. Remember that meager 10-hp boost from the VW's Performance pack? Turns out your $1495 also buys brakes an inch larger, and, more important, a proper slice of supercar, in the form of an electronically controlled locking differential. This doesn't just stave off understeer, it comes out guns blazing and sends tire slip into retreat.

Nail the gas in a powerful front-drive car with a traditional mechanical limited-slip, and the steering corruption often makes it feel like one front wheel has hooked a cable. But, just like a Ferrari 458 Italia, the GTI's e-diff can send up to 100 percent of its torque to the outside front wheel. Because this locking action is constantly monitored and adjusted electronically, you get all the benefits without ruined steering feel.

The GTI isn't just hotter than the Mini. It's a better hatch, too.

It'd be a shame to ruin steering this good. Not the last word in feel, maybe, but vastly quicker with the adoption of a new variable-ratio rack. In theory, you get a slower ratio around the straight-ahead for freeway calm, and a faster one to make tight corners less twirly. But the moment you twist your wrists away from center, this latest GTI feels much more eager than previous examples.

Josh Scott

The Mini's even hungrier to turn, but a lot less composed if there are bumps when you do. Neither test car came with the optional adaptive dampers, and both trade a degree of urban civility for high-speed body control. But while the Cooper bucks around excitedly in response to bumps, the VW rolls on unperturbed. When you hit a winding road, the GTI sheds the Cooper like a snake wriggling from last year's skin.

Faux-reptile dash trim must be one of few interior options not yet available on the endlessly customizable Mini, but BMW has really played the luxury card this time. Gone are the hard console plastics and cheap heater controls. Newly arrived is a bright-red engine-start toggle switch that throbs like a mangled thumb in a Looney Tunes short. The Mini's newfound maturity runs deeper than tactile surfaces and detail jewelry, too. Boosting refinement was a key goal for Mini engineers; the result is an interior that's quieter than the GTI's in every situation.

Still, we'd happily put up with an extra decibel or two to sit behind the VW's wheel. Dominated by a 5.8-inch touchscreen display framed with lush, soft plastics, the GTI's champagne cockpit on a beer budget is even more stunning than it was last year. On a metal-for-money ratio, the VW is also ahead. It's a proper five-seater with a trunk almost three times as big as the Mini's, and each of the GTI's three trim levels comes with 18-inch wheels, a touchscreen infotainment system, and heated seats.

Josh Scott

The Mini's newfound maturity runs deeper than tactile surfaces and detail jewelry.

Out of the box, the Cooper delivers none of that and only toy-like, 16-inch rims. Both cars come standard with driving-mode selectors to alter the engine noise, as well as throttle and steering assistance, and damping, if you go for the adaptive chassis option in each. Give the latter serious consideration if you're shopping for the board-stiff Mini—that obsession with go-kart-like sensations feels like it's extended to bolting the control arms rigidly to the body.

Whether you buy into the Cooper's retro shtick or prefer the GTI's cool, mature approach, what matters is that, when you strip away the brand baggage, you're left with two cars better built and more fun than their humble roots would have you believe. Neither they nor their thrills feel cheap. The brilliant new GTI, as complete a performance-car package as anything on the market, just happens to deliver them bigger and better than the rest.

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