A quick check of The Redline’s publishing engine confirms what I already knew – no Swift Sport. It’s also the least powerful car I’ve tested so far by a comfortable margin. It’s no secret that 103kW (140PS) isn’t a great deal of power. But when you’re a plucky little Suzuki Swift weighing less than 1000kg, it’s not bad at all.
The Swift Sport holds a special place in my heart because it was my first video for CarsGuide. Stop sniggering. I was new. Gee it was fun, though. I loved it.
Now, five years later, the car that almost inspired The Redline is actually reviewed here in its pages. It’s the car I settled on when explaining to everyone what a performance car is. “Anything from a Suzuki Swift Sport and up.”
Words: Peter Anderson Images: Rhys Vandersyde Co-pilot: Brendan Allen
Swift Sport Look and Feel
The “new” Swift (it’s been around a while now) looks terrific. It’s everything a modern small car should be. It’s great to look at, well-built and fun to drive.
While the rear doors need a good shove to close, it feels a bit more solid than before. The profile is familiar, but looks fresh. Those new headlights are very cool in the flesh.
I love the chunky profile – it looks ready for action, especially in this, er, special colour called Champion Yellow. On some cars, this hue will earn you a sneer but on the Swift Sport, it garners plenty of smiles.
The cabin is a bit on the snappy plastic side, but the front seats are terrific. It also has Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, so you don’t have to worry about the dodgy old media system.
Driveline
The Swift Sport’s bonnet hides Suzuki’s 1.4-litre Boosterjet turbo four-cylinder. Yep, the same on from the Vitara SUV. Power is up from the old 1.6-litre, coming in at 103kW (140PS) and 220Nm. The standard six-speeder is a good one, the very heavy CVT not so much.
Obviously, it’s front wheel drive only.
0-100km/h arrives in 8.1 seconds, which is pretty good for 103kW. The key, obviously, is the fact the Swift Sport weighs 970kg in manual form. That has a huge knock-on effect and is a whopping 80kg lighter than the previous generation.
Chassis
The Swift is built on Suzuki’s HEARTECT ‘scalable’ platform. That means it can stretch and shrink depending on the application. The same platform sits underneath the terminally dull Baleno, but don’t be scared. This is no Baleno.
The Sport rides on stiffer springs and dampers and rides 15mm closer to the ground. The dampers themselves are from Monroe rather than the usual off-the-shelf OEM stuff. The track is also 40mm wider than before.
The front anti-roll bar mountings are beefed up from the standard car’s and the bearings and wheel hub are all one unit. The rear trailing arms are also set up specifically for the Sport.
A new electric steering setup is also along for the ride, so hopefully it’s better than the old one.
Driving the Swift Sport
This car is so much fun. So was the old one. But it’s quite different.
For a start, it’s lighter but also stiffer. That means the suspension can be a bit softer while still delivering plenty of laughs. The Swift Sport has such a great front end, with light, snappy steering throwing the car into corners with abandon.
The softer suspension also means it’s a smoother ride day-to-day but also makes the car more forgiving in the rough stuff. The old car was pretty stiff and could crash a bit over bumps. It was pretty good at speed, though, never frightening me on some very poor surfaces.
The new car’s character is subtly altered as a result. It’s less raw, feels less like it’s completely up for it all the time. Less tiring, in other words.
The engine is where the car has really matured. The torque turbo brings just 3kW (4PS) more but a stout 60Nm of torque. That means instead of having to rev its big end bearings to breaking point, you spend a lot more time in third gear.
And that, of course, is the way of things. There’s almost nothing left at this level that isn’t turbo and isn’t all about torque-surfing.
So while it’s just like it has always been, its capabilities are broader. It can do more things more fo the time and point-to-point, it’s quicker. Some have complained that it’s not as fun as the old car, but I disagree. It’s more fun around town because you can get it moving.
And where the old car’s steering wasn’t very good, it’s much better in 2019. Seven years of waiting has given the Swift Sport much better electric steering. You can feel what’s going on, you know what’s happening and when you hook it into a corner, you know when things are going wrong.
Redline Recommendation
Yes. Goodness yes. While I find it a bit pricey here in Australia, it doesn’t seem to hold the car back. And nor should it because the money you pay is going towards quality. It’s also going to a bit of an underdog – Suzuki doesn’t have any money but delivers more hot hatches than Toyota does.
It’s no secret that I don’t mind Woking’s machines, particularly the McLaren 720S . I’ve driven (almost) everything but the Ultimate Series cars and being stuck here in the back-end of nowhere in Australia makes that difficult. That’s okay – you can’t have everything.
I first drove a 720S in July 2017 – McLaren very kindly whisked me to the Goodwood Festival of Speed via the Woking factory. Straight off the plane, into a bus, quick tour of the McLaren Technology Centre and boom, into a 720S. Left-hand drive. Pre-production. On roads I didn’t know. With a bloke I’d never met.
My mind was, obviously, blown. This was something I’d never experienced before. Wait. Not true.
I’d experienced it before – terror. Wide-eyed, white-knuckled terror. The first time I felt that was in a Ferrari f12berlinetta, a handful at the best of times, but as it had just spent a weekend at Sydney Motorsport Park, the tyres were bald. And it rained the day I had it. But I loved it.
In the same way, I fell in love with the 720S. I wanted badly to drive it on roads I know. Over eighteen months later, it happened. And while the feeling of that initial terror had faded, nothing else had.
Words: Peter Anderson Photographer and co-pilot: Matthew Hatton Colour namer: Mark Dewar
McLaren 720S Look and Feel
The 720’s exterior is flat-out wonderful. While those blacked-out headlight sockets take some getting used to, they really work for me. This colour – an MSO “special” – is called Ceramic Grey. A mate, who is not normally given to flights of fancy, reckons it should have been called Lavender Stardust. I’m with him, actually. He’s the bloke with whom I exchange endless banter about grey cars looking unpainted (he is against, I am for).
The glass canopy looks amazing. It reminds me (let me just reach out for my walking frame) of the amazing Mitsubishi HSR-II concept car from 1989. And that’s not even slightly insulting – that car looked like it was from another planet and still does. The 720’s doors are way better, though.
Mitsubishi HSR-II (yes, it’s a Gran Turismo render)
The 720S cabin is a big step up on the earlier efforts in the 540C/570S Sport Series range. While there’s little wrong with those cabins – most supercar interiors are quite sparse and better for it – the 720S has a bit more room to play with.
The structures feel more solid and everything looks a bit more made to fit. There was just one squeak in this car, which I fixed by lifting the electric driver’s seat a millimetre or two off the floor. Sorted.
Dash upDash down
The 720’s dash (shared with the Senna) is a very clever thing indeed. In normal driving, it’s a full panel of TFT goodness, displaying everything you need to know. Select reverse and there’s a reversing camera that actually works. The 570S I drove last year had a horrifically bad reversing camera. Press a button or switch to Active Modes (more on that later), the panel folds down and a second screen installed on the top of the panel’s housing. This small strip shows the bare minimum – gear, revs and speed, with a bit of extra forward vision. It’s super-cool.
The amount of Alcantara in this cabin is perfect, as is the judicious use of orange flashes (some of it optional, of course). I’m a big fan of McLaren’s Papaya Orange, so that was always going meet with my approval. The materials are lovely otherwise, everything works and even the carpets feel pretty good. Because you sit so low, you notice the carpets.
McLaren 720S Drivetrain
You can’t get to the engine. So here’s an exhaust and a lot of grille.
McLaren seals its M840T twin-turbo V8 away under a hatch with a grille and it’s hard up against the rear of the carbon fibre Monocage. Here in the 720S it’s slightly larger by 200cc, moving to 4.0-litres. McLaren says the components are 40 percent new compared to the 650S’ power plant.
Power is a mind-boggling 537kW (720PS) and torque a colossal 770Nm. 0-100km/h (0-62mph) arrives in just 2.9 seconds and 0-200km/h (0-124mph) is a scant 7.8 seconds. Top speed is stupendous 341km/h.
Slung behind the engine is a seven-speed transaxle found in every other McLaren, operated by a rocker paddle setup behind the steering wheel.
Chassis
The 720S uses the company’s Monocage II carbon tub. Key differences to the original tub include less vertiginous sills aiding entry and exit but it’s lighter. The windscreen surround is now full carbon fibre and all the usual changes combine for a stiffer, lighter platform. Good start.
McLaren’s fabled open diff returns to keep weight down but still amaze. Instead of a heavy, complicated active diff (not knocking them, they’re ace when done right), McLaren uses a super-advanced version of the brake steer tech the FIA banned in Formula 1 way back in 1997’s MP4/12 racer.
Proactive Chassis Control II underpins the car’s behaviour. The fundamental suspension package is by double wishbones front and rear with independent adaptive dampers. Predictably, the computer system is hugely powerful and talks endlessly to a plethora of sensors scattered around the car.
Front wheels are 19-inch and the rears are 20s, with 720S-specific P-Zero Corsa rubber from Pirelli.
McLaren provides great assistance to destroy those big rear tyres – Vehicle Drift Control. Switch off ESC and the VDC menu becomes available – tap Activate and a hilarious diagram pops up with a slider, allowing you to decide how much rope the car gives you, like Ferrari’s side-slip control. You still have to know how to do it, of course. It doesn’t drift for you.
Aerodynamics
It’s really, really low.
The aero package is something else. It looks so different to other supercars. There’s a couple of reasons for that – McLaren has less historical baggage in the styling department but also a quite different approach to aero. While many supercars have an out and proud set of wings and bits, Rob Melville and his team have hidden a lot of it in the styling cues.
Instead of a huge rear wing permanently ruining your rearward vision, it’s integrated into the bodywork, rising only when required. Having said that, when it’s up, it’s huge. It appears when you select the right mode or when you hit the brakes hard. It’s kind of cool that you won’t see the unsuspecting texting teenager running into the back of you under hard braking.
Underneath it’s all fared away and flat. Open the doors and you see a huge channel takes air flowing over the nose and around the windscreen.
Braking
The brakes are massive carbon ceramics, with six-piston forged aluminium calipers at the front and four pistons at the back. Stopping distance from 100km/h is just 30 metres in the dry. Hauling down from 200km/h happens in just 122 metres. The front discs are a massive 390mm, the rears 380mm.
Of course, they’re ABS-assisted and the rears double as the stability and traction controls.
Driving
It’s difficult to describe the McLaren 720S. There’s all this banal, easy stuff like telling you it’s comfortable, the doors are easy to open and close and getting in and out is made easier by the way the doors cut in toward a sort of targa bar.
Here in Australia, all that glass isn’t too flash – it makes the cabin extraordinarily hot during summer. And fair-skinned people like me need to wear a hat, instantly rendering me a classic YouTuber. At any time it looks like I’m going to make a stupid hand gesture and ask if I should buy this or something else.
Anyway. It’s a great cabin. And you sit in a terrific position, so low yet with plenty of vision. As ever the pedals sprout from the floor and yes, the brake pedal feels like it needs a good shove. Switch to left-foot braking, problem solved. It’s uncanny how the brake pressure is so annoying for the right footer in me, but completely natural for the closet leftie.
And the 720S takes the incredible ride quality from the 570S, adds some wheelbase and makes it even better. Like the Sport Series cars, its ridiculously easy to live with, riding and handling in Comfort mode like a well set-up BMW, only better. It feels light and always feels ready. Crucially, it isn’t hounding you to go faster. The 720S is quite happy for you to be you. No rush. Get there when you want, the high way or the low way. Up to you.
This is where this car makes its claim to greatness – pick your path and it goes with you. Take the highway and it’ll be a little noisy but otherwise comfortable. The automatic mode will slip through the gears to seventh, tyre roar replacing induction.
Take the coast road and that glass canopy takes nothing from experience. Again, the ride will love you back and the twist and turns despatched with ease, a roll of the wrists on the beautifully-weighted steering wheel.
Get on it
Take the back road, press the Active button and work your way from Comfort, to Sport to Track. Again, the 720S is right there for you. It is by far the most stable platform of any supercar I’ve driven. And it’s brutally, viscerally fast. While there is turbo lag, that’s all forgotten once the boost is up and you’re crushed in your seat.
Even brave passengers will find the way the speed builds deeply unsettling – to them the rush of torque feels uncontrolled. It won’t to you. It will feel wild but eminently tameable. It’s like a cartoon mouse that takes a deep breath and the resulting noise is like a ship’s horn blast.
In Track mode, the 720S is wild – the steering is perfection, the stability unimpeachable and difficult (without drift control) to unsettle. Because the suspension keeps the tyres in actual contact with the ground rather than letting you hop around, it feels like the wheels, particularly the fronts, are superglued to the tarmac, whatever the surface.
You get confidence in most supercars but the McLaren gives you the confidence of a buff reality star in front of the camera, except it’s entirely warranted.
What I do want, though, is more noise. A flat-plane crank anything is glorious but the exhaust exits are a long way away from your ears and you can only hear it in tunnels. When you do, it’s great, but I want more. More, I tell you.
Redline Recommendation
As much as I love the Italians and a German, it’s the McLaren 720S that does the best job of the lot. Epic power, amazing looks, incredible comfort but tied to a track-ready chassis that will leave most things for dead.
While that’s very much down to what you like – I’d have any of them in a heartbeat – the McLaren speaks to me in a way no other supercar can.
The haggard figure you see in that video is me nearing the end of two hard but incredibly rewarding days. I got a phone call during February asking if I would like to join the Tour section of the Mount Baw Baw Sprint round of the Australian Tarmac Rally Championship. My ever-patient wife said yes, and so did I. It was for a good cause – Drive Against Depression. How could I say no?
By the way, you can still donate to DAD – either directly (fine by me) or through the Gofundme I set up.
The Tour section of a tarmac rally is something I had never heard of until two years ago when I ran a BMW i8 for three days of Targa Tasmania.
Lexus Australia came on board with vehicles for rally officials – as well as for me. We’d initially talked about running the LC500 but then we hit upon an idea. I hadn’t yet had the chance to drive a GS F and was curious. Everyone who had driven one said it was amazing for such a big car, so why not?
Lexus GS F Drivetrain
The GS F is the closest thing you can get to the much-lamented IS F. It’s a much bigger car than the IS, far closer to BMW’s 5 Series than the 3 Series-sized IS.
What is the same is the approach as the IS – take a competent but boring, sometimes hybrid-powered executive sedan from Japan and stuff it full of Yamaha’s amazing 5.0-litre V8. That’s a pretty good start. In the GS F, you can call up 351kW (477PS) at 7100rpm, with 530Nm available between 4800 and 5600rpm.
Power goes to the rear wheels via an eight-speed auto and a torque vectoring rear diff. Lexus says the transmission talks to a G-sensor which tells the transmission to shift up, down or hold depending on conditions. You can also shift with the paddles.
Chassis
Lexus calls its chassis package VDIM – Vehicle Dynamics Integrated Management. That silly acronym takes in suspension, engine, transmission, traction and stability and steering settings.
You’ve got four engine/transmission/suspension modes to choose from – Eco, Comfort, Sport and Sport+. Let’s not worry about the first two, because I didn’t (they’re fine for tooling about and, er, saving a tiny amount of fuel).
A separate button marked TVD – Torque Vectoring Differential – is critical to the way the car handles. Three modes – Normal, Slalom and Race – offer three very different handling characteristics and as I discovered on the RC F, Slalom is hilarious.
Stopping power comes from a set of very attractive Brembos, with six-pot calipers at the front and four-pots at the rear. The big slotted discs look terrific behind the 19-inch alloys. The GS F I drove was the 10th Anniversary model, which meant the calipers were a lairy orange colour.
GS F – “Not a track car.”
So, uh, if you Google this car, there’s lots of “you would never track this car” or “The sports sedan you will never race.”
Get stuffed. Half the internet thinks its the greatest judge of handling prowess and what constitutes a track car. Some wallies will tell you it has to be a 911 GT3 or GTFO. You can take whatever you want to the track and what makes it fun is if you enjoy it. Yeah, you. Not what some jerk on the internet thinks and sometiems, that jerk might be me.
Tarmac rallying is kind of like taking a car to the track and I will put my hand up to thinking that the GS F was a bit of a boat to take this on. I had forgotten two things:
Lexus’ F engineers are complete hoons.
I mean, total hoons. Seriously.
Let’s find out how wrong I was about the rest of it.
Driving
I guess I was a little bit justified in thinking the GS F wasn’t the car for this. It’s nearly two tonnes (1865kg kerb weight) and was definitely two tonnes with me, a full tank of fuel and my co-driver on board.
The big advantage of the GS F on this even was that with so much headroom, the roof didn’t get in the way of my helmet. Very solid start. On the minus side, the seats are really wide – like, American-In-N-Out-every-day bum wide – so I was going to have to find a way to wedge myself in a bit.
I drove the car from Melbourne to Mt Baw, a three-hour odyssey made longer by my terrible navigation skills and a short detour to look at something shiny. The GS F was amazingly comfortable – quiet, composed and with very little tyre noise, it made the journey very pleasant. The sound system is great, as they are on all Lexuses.
Because I’m an idiot, I didn’t fill up where I should have, so took the GS F straight up. The traffic thinned out, and I was on roads I kind of knew. They’re good ones. Turns out, the last 30-odd km (20 miles) were the competitive stages.
The next day on the stages, the GS F revealed itself to me. While I started off fairly tamely, the car came to me very quickly. The V8 is so strong and a keen revver, the sound amplified in the cabin by the stereo. The only thing holding the car back was the traction control and my lack of experience. The way the GS F piles on speed had my co-driver – a keen motorbiker – telling me if felt super-fast.
I was worried about the brakes but not once did I feel like they were going to give out. The stages, particularly the ones closer to the mountain, are tight and twisty, with a lot of braking from 100km/h-plus speeds. I’m not a hard braker – I prefer smooth, early braking – but sometimes a corner needed a bit more and it was always there.
The suspension coped beautifully with a road that was not built for this – and that’s the point of tarmac rallying. Patchwork roads, depressions, high crowns, big cambers, hairpins, water on the road, it was all coming at me. The GS F never once felt out of its depth.
The steering. Oh, the steering.
The biggest surprise was the way this thing can turn in. The torque vectoring diff makes a huge difference in the corners, the front of the car diving into corners unerringly and sometimes unnervingly. The enthusiasm the GS F has for corners is mind-blowing.
While the wheel itself isn’t chock-full of feel, the weighting was perfect and I knew all I need to know about what was going on under the Michelin Pilot 4Ses. Those tyres were massively grippy and copped an absolute pounding but completely failed to fall apart. Once warm they stuck to the road like an Australian politician clings to a bad idea.
The GS F’s resistance to understeer only began to fail as I grew more confident, so that was clearly the car’s fault *cough*. For such a big beast, its limits are extraordinarily high. Composed, fast and glorious to listen to, I would drive this thing in a tarmac rally again in a heartbeat. We understood each other and it let me build up to a point where I was going comfortably quicker than when I first started. It also helped that a very good friend jumped in on Sunday morning and told me what I was doing wrong.
The transmission
Eight-speed automatics aren’t your obvious go-to for a rally car, but like ZF’s excellent eight-speed, this thing can shift (sorry). Well, it does most of the time.
The city/motorway stuff, it was close to perfect as expected. And really, for most of the time it was being hammered, it was also perfect. Unfortunately, there was a thing it did that, in this case didn’t matter too much, but it did it.
Foot flat in second gear, it would occasionally just run into the limiter and keep doing it. That was kind of silly and annoying but a gentle lift on the throttle would remind the box to change up. It ignore the paddles when that was happening. Luckily, the redline in second was
The paddles were good to use but didn’t really work for me in the heat of a stage so I just let the transmission do its own thing. And you know what? That’s the best way.
The G-sensor does its job. Hammer the brake pedal and the first chance it gets, the gearbox grabs a lower gear and blips the throttle so you don’t get a fright. It became uncannily good at getting it right and let me get on with the job of going fast.
Redline Recommendation
Both on road and rally stage, the GS F is brilliant. We’ve come to expect this kind of breadth of ability from BMW M, but the GS F was unexpected. It gained the nickname, “That bloody big Lexus” – it stayed with machinery built specifically for tarmac rallying, monstering all before it. What’s more – and what’s amazing – is how kind it was to me.
Tarmac rallying is tiring work but the GS F looked after me – kept me cool and fresh as we hared through the Australian bush, whooping and laughing as I went.
Consider the GS F. It’s a belter. Solid recommend.
The 488 is dead – long live the Ferrari F8 Tributo.
Well, that’s a bit dramatic, but there you are. The time has come for Maranello to replace the wonderful 488 with the next-generation of mid-engined V8 supercar. The F8 Tributo (what do we think of the name?) will take Ferrari into the 2020s and is based on the hardcore 488 Pista.
The most obvious change is the inclusion of the Pista’s S-Duct at the front. Providing a crap ton (okay, fifteen percent) more downforce, the S-Duct adds further aero capability to an already extraordinary platform. The radiators are also F1-style, angled rearwards to reduce frontal area and the dynamic air intakes have moved to the outside of the spoiler. New brake cooling ducts up the front were made possible by the slimmer headlights.
New brake ducts, headlights and the Pista’s S-Duct (smaller, though)
Along with the increase in downforce, Ferrari also claimed that aero efficiency is up by ten percent, which means less drag. The chassis is 40kg lighter, too (dry weight).
The 3.9-litre V8 returns, with a power bump to 530kW (720PS). That’s, uh, an enormous amount of power. As ever, the variable torque management is along for the ride to ensure minimal turbo lag. Torque is up 10Nm to 770Nm, but don’t worry, it’s already way more than you could ever need.
The manettino wheel on the now-smaller steering wheel features a new system called Ferrari Dynamic Enhancer (FDE+), which is part of Race mode.
[FDE+ is] designed to make performance on the limit easier to reach and control for an even greater number of drivers.F8 press release
It still has horrible doorhandles
Look and Feel
The F8’s design is once again out of Ferrari Centro Stile. The designers added louvred Lexan engine cover as a tribute to the classic F40, hence the name (I guess?). The louvres are more than an homage, however. The hot air flows out of the engine bay without ruining the airflow over the blown spoiler.
Ferrari says inspiration for the rear end came from the 1975 308 GTB. The new spoiler design allowed for a return to the twin taillight arrangement so beloved of supercar makers.
The cabin is basically all-new. Like the Portofino, a central media screen allows the passenger to run the stereo which was a bit of a drama in the 458 and 488. It’s not the luxurious 10-inch screen from its V8-powered sibling, but 7.0inches is fine in such a tight space. All the interior panels are new as are the air vents. It doesn’t look strikingly different, but you know, if it wasn’t broken…
Thankfully the wonderful instrument cluster looks pretty much the same, with that massive yellow rev-counter with a digital readout for the speed and gear selection.
How much and when?
Lots and soon. The F8 will be properly shown off next week at the Geneva Motor Show.
The Ford Focus ST was one of the unruliest cars I’ve ever driven. It was all over the shop, but in a good way. I was convinced that the engine was a hologram and that under the bonnet was a bunch of toddlers fuelled up on Red Bull. You felt alive in this thing. Torque steer, a rush of power and very sharp steering. Delicious.
It kind of got forgotten, though. It didn’t have the character of the five-cylinder machine that preceded it and there’s been a wash of C-segment hot hatches in the last five years. The ST looked on forlornly while Hyundai, VW, Renault and Honda stole the headlines. To add insult to injury, the Focus RS elbowed it out of the way.
With the new Focus well and truly launched, the ST-Line was the one for enthusiasts. But, as sure as crashing follows Pastor Maldonado leaving the pits, the full-fat ST is here.
You’ll be parking your butt in a sweet set of Recaros and the new interior is streets ahead of the old one. You get Ford’s SYNC3 software with CarPlay and Android Auto, digital instrumentation for Sport and Track modes and more room than the old car.
Your mates will know you’ve got an ST by the front and rear bumpers, honeycomb grille, ST badging and
Driveline
The new 2.3-litre EcoBoost (ha!) produces 206kW (280PS) and 420Nm (available from 3000-4000rpm). That’s a lot of power for a front-wheel drive, but as Honda, Hyundai and others have proved, that’s perfectly fine. If you do it right…
And doing it right means fitting a limited slip diff. Ford’s answer is to pack what they call an eLSD into the transmission. Using a hydraulic clutch pack, it can apportion power up to 100 percent to each wheel to quell oversteer.
The electric power steering also has some software updates to help dampen torque steer. It will be interesting to see how successful that is and whether it reduces the fun of the old car. You really had to fight that bad boy.
A Performance Pack offers a few more goodies, including Track mode, rev-matching on the manual,
Those figures compare rather well with the old car, with a rise of 22kW (30PS) and a very healthy 60Nm increase in torque. Ford “anticipates” the new ST will clobber the 0-100km/h (0-62mph) sprint in “less than six seconds.” That’s right there with its obvious rivals.
All that power comes courtesy with help from what Ford claims are “learnings” (ugh) from the Ford GT project and the Focus RS. Electronic wastegate control provides fine-tuning of the turbo boost while the twin-scroll turbo does a better job of exhaust gas scavenging. The anti-lag system from the GT and F-150 Raptor activates in Sport and Track mode and keeps fuelling the engine to keep the turbo spinning when you lift off.
For the first time, the petrol ST will be available in both six-speed manual and seven-speed automatic. The press release bangs on about adaptive shift scheduling and gear differentiation but there isn’t anything extraordinary to report.
Diesel ST Returns
Some markets also score a diesel ST, with a 2.0-litre ‘EcoBlue’ four-cylinder turbo-diesel good for 140kW (190PS) and 400Nm from 2000 to 300rpm. Happily, you’ve got 350Nm from 1500rpm. You miss out on the auto option though, and instead of the clever LSD of the petrol.
Chassis
The new Focus ST starts with a lighter base platform, which is always good news. The ST-Line I drove last year was a good giggle, so that bodes well for the go-faster car.
Adaptive damping changes with every mode so it’s a bit more liveable day to day while a bit harder on the fun bits. Suspension is independent all-round, with the ST-Line’s multi-link rear-end along for the ride.
Ford’s engineers have put further work into the front geometry to help tame the power and perhaps eke a bit more life out of the standard Michelin Pilot Sport 4S tyres. There’s also some stuff about unique steering knuckle geometry, but they said that about the last one and it still wanted to tear your arms off.
The new front brakes are bigger at 330mm up front and 302mm at the back. Ford reckons the stoppers resist fade four times better than the ST. From memory (dim, dark memory) the brakes were a little prone to cooking.
Drive select is along, of course, and tightens everything up. Or, in the case of the stability and traction system, relaxes things. The optional Performance Pack throws in Race mode which makes things nice and loose for the track. Obviously.
When and How Much?
Ah, yes. European customers can have their ST fix in June 2019. Those of us in parts further-flung will have to wait until early 2020. Heck, we’re still waiting for the Fiesta ST! Pricing? Soon, precious, soon.
Jaguar’s gorgeous F-Type convertible scores a lighter but very powerful 2.0-litre turbocharged four-cylinder.
Words: Peter Anderson Images: Rhys Vandersyde
The Jaguar F-Type is a genuinely beautiful car. It’s much harder to do that these days, with lots of rules and regulations making life hard for designers. But Jaguars aren’t designed by people who throw their crayons in the air when things aren’t easy.
It’s been around for ages, the F-Type, and is slowly evolving. Things change – the V6 manual I drove for Carsguide in 2016 is now the middle of the range. To chase more buyers, a lower entry price and emissions targets means less noise but a tremendous opportunity to slot in JLR’s own Ingenium turbo four-cylinder.
Of course, I have questions. It’s lighter, sure, but the F-Type, based as it is on the old XK, is a tubby old bugger, so can four cylinders cut it?
This car is also a coupe, which means no wind-in-the-hair silliness, so is there even a point?
And here in the MY19 car, there is finally – finally – an update to the troublesome media system. The old one took so long to accept a command, you may as well have gone and reprogrammed the sat nav yourself.
It doesn’t look any different from the MY18, at least not substantially. The cleaner headlights have been about for a while and look superb. You can tell it’s the 2.0-litre four from the back, with a less aggro rear bumper and big, single exhaust exit. I reckon the coupe looks terrific from the back and even better from the rear three-quarter.
The cabin is also largely unchanged. The switchgear is pretty much the same and the proper shifter remains rather than Jaguar’s attractive-but-silly rotary dial. Try doing a quick three-point-turn in a rotary dial Jag.
The R Dynamic brings a bit of extra visual oomph, including bigger 19-inch wheels. The 17s (?) on the base car are a bit…uh…not great. The carbon interior parts are actually alright – that sort of option doesn’t always hit the mark, but they look good.
Drivetrain
The Ingenium 2.0-litre turbo
Jaguar-Land Rover’s own Ingenium is under the bonnet here. At first, that engine family was a pair of four-cylinders (petrol and diesel) and in various states of tune. They’re torquey monsters, even the 147kW single turbo entry level has 320Nm.
The F-Type ships with the twin-turbo petrol four, delivering a whopping 221kW (300PS) at 5500rpm and a ripping 400Nm from 1200-4500rpm. That’s a lot of torque from a 2.0-litre petrol and bodes tremendously well for the forthcoming six-cylinder Ingenium F-Type.
(I do wonder what a top-end Ingenium diesel would be like in the F…)
A ZF eight-speed transmission sends the power to the rear wheels and, as always, it’s brilliant. The active sports exhaust doesn’t do anything for the power output, but does add a bit of drama when you press the button. You also get three driving modes and if you’re not in Dynamic all the time, I don’t know why you’re even here.
Jaguar reckons you’ll crack 100km/h (0-62mph) just in 5.7 seconds, which is not mucking around.
Chassis
This is the lightest F-Type. weighing in from 1525kg (more likely heading towards 1600kg), so it’s hardly super-light on its feet.
The coupe is actually lighter than the convertible as Jaguar can ditch the roof-folding-and-stowage gear and put on a lightweight roof that doesn’t move. The F-Type SVR Coupe even has a carbon roof, but this one was was mostly glass. Great in Europe, terrible in Australia, so have a long hard think before you tick that box if the sun in your part of the world is trying to kill you. And glass weighs more.
Bits of the underguts are also pretty old and heavy, most of which comes from the steel in its construction. The suspension is passive, which is perfectly fine in well-tuned lighter cars – especially one with such a long wheelbase. The diff has torque vectoring via the brakes, which works quite well, too.
Driving
F-Types are glorious things. It wouldn’t matter if you dropped in a three-cylinder 1.0-litre, they’re just lovely to be in. A Jag on the driveway is one thing, but an F-Type makes you smile, no matter what. Even though I don’t own the thing, every time I looked out the front window, there it was. Passers-by were of the same opinion.
You slide in to the driver’s seat and settle down nice and low. The central console is high, so your elbow rests on the centre console, but naturally. It’s a very comfortable car once you’re in, but shorter folks may not be so enamoured of the low position. The view down the long bonnet is superb.
The 2.0-litre fires up with a promising bark and on the move, the steering feels different to the heavier-engined cars. That’s nice – I was worried Jaguar engineers might feel the need to add weight to make things feel F-Typey.
It really does move around very nicely. Despite looking like the front has suspension travel of approximately one centimetre, the clever suspension packaging ensures it has rather more. It handles moving around the suburbs very nicely, with a plush ride. Beware the long nose and plastic aero bits that hang low on the front scrape on just about everything.
The twin-turbo is a fine engine – it could do with a little less lag, but apart from that, it’s terrific. Getting the exhaust to bark the way it does must have taken a lot of work and it’s all part of the fun. The engine does kind of suit the coupe a bit more. While it’s not a shrinking violet, having the roof down won’t make a huge difference to the experience.
As with the rest of the F-Type range, it’s great fun to push along. It’s a long car, but it feels so right to thread through the bends. Cars this size tend not to be especially agile, but the F-Type hides its weight. The light steering reminds you the nose is lighter, the coupe turning in smartly.
Stand on the throttle out of a corner and you’ll even get a bit of a wiggle as that big slab of torque attacks the road. You won’t get lurid tail slides without a lot of space and probably a wet skid pan, but that’s dumb on public roads anyway, so it barely matters.
What’s nice about the 2.0-litre is that it is a bit more of a precision tool and won’t cost the earth to run. It’s a bit less conspicuous but no less gorgeous than its higher-powered peers and if I hadn’t fallen so helplessly in love with the SVR, this would probably be my favourite F-Type.
You know the R8. It’s the quiet sibling of the Lamborghini Huracan, a car we’ve featured threetimesnow. The R8 has only had one story on these pages, but it’s probably the car I prefer over the shouty Lambo. Better interior, better seats, easier to live with but the same troppo 5.2-litre V10.
As the R8’s second-generation roared towards its mid-life update, Audi did something a bit un-Audi. The company, having spent years and millions – perhaps billions – of Euros telling us how great Quattro all-wheel drive is, released the limited edition RWS – rear-wheel series.
Of course, the Huracan Spyder I drove in 2017 was a rear-wheel driver, but that’s Lambo. Sant ‘Agata’s view of AWD is somewhat dictated by its sensible German masters, so it took the chance to drop the 580-2 (the Evo -2 cars are more powerful). We’d heard rumours of the Audi.
Perhaps because of all that investment, the RWS was limited to 999 cars globally. That number feels like Audi fully intended to produce more based on demand. That’s a suspicion, by the way – I have absolutely no knowledge, facts or evidence to back that up.
The RWS doesn’t look any different. You have to have a very good look at it to tell it’s rear-wheel drive. Same front and rear bumpers, same V10 badge, same same same. Look a little closer and you’ll see steel brakes (like the R8 Spyder I drove and the standard R8 Coupe).
I wasn’t sure about this white one but boy, did it grown on me. I even grew very fond of the optional red graphic.
The one thing that you can pick about the RWS is the body-coloured blade on the air intakes behind the doors. Yeah, I reckon that’s dumb too.
The cabin is a little pared back from the Quattro coupe, at least in Australian specification. The seats don’t look like much, but do just as good a job as they need. The dash is all pretty much the same apart from the 1 of 999 badge (cheeky sods) and really, there’s nothing missing. It’s a huge improvement over the Huracan’s silly interior, which feels plasticky and old (and hopefully fixed in the Evo).
I just wish the R8 had better shift paddles. They’re cheap, plastic and nasty and have none of the tactility of the Huracan’s alloy or carbon paddles.
R8 RWS Drivetrain
There’s little new here, but it’s such a good engine, I’m going to re-cap for you. The glorious 5.2-litre naturally-aspirated V10 produces 397kW and 540Nm. The power peaks at 7800rpm while maximum torque arrives a little earlier at 6500rpm.
The seven-speed twin-clutch sends power to the rear-wheels. And that’s it. No all-wheel drive trickery. Easy.
Chassis
There’s little change here, too. The brakes are drilled steel units, with those hilarious wavy discs up front and six-pot calipers holding on for dear life. Down the back you’ve got four-potters. You can’t get carbon-ceramics so don’t bother asking. And, just quietly, you don’t need them.
Without the quattro drivetrain, the R8 RWS weighs around 50kg less than its AWD counterparts.
The car rolls on 19-inch forged alloys, painted black and completely allergic to kerbs, so stay away.
As with the similarly-powered Coupe, there are the normal Drive Select Audi modes, the RWS goes without the extra three modes of the Plus. But it does keep the Big Red Button to fire it up.
It also goes without adaptive damping, and that’s just fine by me. It’s completely liveable every damn day.
Driving
My giddy aunt. What an amazing thing is that V10. Every time I get behind the wheel of a car with this engine, my heart skips a beat. It’s just wonderful. Every time I floor the throttle and hear the way the engine note soars, that wonderful harmonic from 3500rpm to the hard-edged shriek at the redline, my hairs all stand on end. Not even Ferrari’s V12 does that to me.
The glorious crackle and snarl on the overrun, the business-like bark on the downshift. Few engines can hope to match, let alone exceed, the V10’s character. For that alone, any R8 is worth it.
The R8 RWS has something else going for it, too. It’s the cheapest R8 you can buy. Here in Australia, it came in under A$300,000, cheaper than the completely bonkers Jaguar F-Type SVR. Audi doesn’t really do bonkers, but my goodness, it does serious just as well.
I didn’t really know what to expect from a rear-wheel drive, V10 powered carbon and aluminium coupe. I’ve driven a heap of R8s and a heap of Huracans and owned BMW’s E60 M5, a 5.0-litre V10 sports sedan from the heady mid-2000s, before the GFC and completely understandable emissions rules spoiled the party.
You can feel there’s less weight over the front axle. The R8 turns in just that little bit more sharply, it’s more interested in finding that extra half-inch or so of kerb. Audi Sport had to tinker with everything to make this car happen and you can tell. The traction and stability systems understand you want to go sideways, but not too much. You could complain it’s a little on the conservative side in the dry but it’s absolutely bang on in the wet. Bang on is perhaps the wrong term – if you’re not an idiot, banging into things will not happen.
As ever, it’s a fluid handler. Cornering is flat and composed, there’s a little pitch under hard acceleration but the corresponding dive is barely noticeable. It’s the same setup as the V10 Plus when you haven’t gone for the magnetic dampers.
I like it’s slightly unplugged nature. It’s not old-school but the lack of steering corruption, the eradication of that tiny hesitation on turn-in. All R8s change direction like their existence depends on it – that’s the beauty of a mid-engined car – but the RWS just slices off that little hesitation. It’s almost intangible, but as I got to know it and checked my notes on the quattro, it became clear that the RWS is the car I prefer.
And here’s the thing. While many of the cars on these pages I could never own or even want to own – the responsibility (and extraordinary privilege) of borrowing them weighs very heavily on my shoulders – the R8 RWS is a supercar I would own if ever the financial opportunity presented itself.
Well, it’s not like it wasn’t a bit obvious it would happen, but BMW has done full-fat M versions of the X3 and X4. Imaginatively, they’re called X3 M and X4.
Like the X3 M40i and X4 M40i, it’s a twin-turbo six-cylinder version of each, but with just a scootch extra pep. Well, a lot extra. And to go with the pep, there’s a bunch of go-faster tech underneath to make sure you don’t come off the road.
There’s even two versions of each – M has already slapped the Competition badge on the back of the pair, upping the power in the process. Well, the badge doesn’t up the power, that’s just a poor turn of phrase.
X3 in whiteX4 in white
You’ll be able to spot the two by a few key changes. The new front and rear bumpers are deeper and more aggressive, and the Competition’s blacked-out grille that suddenly make the mid-size SUV pair look like the X7. The X3, in particular, reminds me a lot of the outgoing X5 M, which is no bad thing.
Inside are the usual M accoutrements, including upscale Vernasca leather, M steering wheel and M gear shifter. They roll on 20-inch alloys with a funky polished face that won’t like kerbs very much.
The Competition versions come with blacked-out exterior bits (beyond the grille), 21-inch black alloys and spoiler. Inside you get posher Merino leather, M seats and various M badges around the place. You also get LED headlights, ConnectedDrive, professional sat nav and the hi-fi speaker system.
X3 M X4 M Drivetrain
There’s a new beastie lurking under here. Based on the crackerjack B58 in the M140i, the S58 is still a 3.0-litre six but with twin-turbos. And, if you listen closely, you can hear the future – this engine will be in the forthcoming M3/M4 pair.
The X3 and X4 M have 353 kW (480PS) and 600Nm while the Competition models benefit from a further 22kW for a maximum figure of 375kW (510PS). Torque is the same in the Competition. If you’re interested, 375kW is a remarkably similar power figure to the Mercedes-Benz GLC63S AMG, which is a rocket.
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Despite the same power figures as the GLC63, the torque deficiency means the Beemers can’t quite match the acceleration figures.
The power gets to all four wheels with the aid of the usual brilliant eight-speed ZF automatic. The AWD system is M’s version of xDrive and the rear axle has an M Active differential, which usually means a lot of fun.
Chassis
M is getting pretty good at making big heavy SUVs (I refuse to call them SAVs) feel light on their feet.
The three drive settings not only change the throttle and transmission responses but also the suspension. Up front is a double-joint spring strut arrangement with a five-link setup at the back. M adaptive dampers change along with the drive mode.
As in other proper M cars, you can set up your own drive modes with the M1 and M2 buttons. The rear-biased all-wheel drive system has a choice of DSC settings ranging from normal to off.
The press release didn’t say much about the brakes, but they’re bound to be bigger and stronger than the M40i models, which aren’t bad to start with.
When?
Soon. But most likely this year and priced somewhere between the Audi SQ5 and Merc’s GLC63.
This is a super-quick plug for an event I’m participating in at the end of February. I’m hoping to raise at least $1000 for the brilliant charity Drive Against Depression. Read the GoFundme link for the all the details and, of course, you can check out Drive Against Depression to make sure it’s legit.
I’ll be driving in the Mt Baw Baw Sprint Tour section and you can come along too (check out the details here)
I won’t be taking a single cent, it all goes to DAD – the fine people at Lexus are looking after my flights and accommodation at the event was organised by DAD. All I have to do is front up and drive the car.
And just to remind you what I’ll be driving, here’s the review of the Lexus LC500.
It wasn’t just that the year of our Lord 2018 was The Redline’s first full year that made it exciting. I got to drive a lot of spectacular machinery, a few of which you’re yet to see because it all got a bit much towards the end of the year.
I loved the Huracan Performante – wild, but tameable, obnoxious to look at but devastatingly elegant on the road, it was a revelation. I’ve always loved the Huracan, but always felt a 488 would give it a right spanking. I haven’t driven a 488 Pista but wonder how it would – or could – better the Performante. That’s how good it is.
Words: Peter Anderson Co-pilot: Brendan Allen Images: Matthew Hatton
What’s different on the Huracan Performante Spyder?
You can read about all the changes on the Performante here.
Lamborghini is a bit cheeky on the website, saying the Performante Spyder weighs 35kg less than the standard Huracan Spyder. Colour me not very surprised. Obviously it weighs more than the Coupe, but that’s to be expected with all the heavy roof gear.
Apart from that, it’s all basically the same as the hardtop.
On this particular car, whoever ordered it made a very sensible decision – the car’s carbon shell seats that literally injured me and every person who sailed in them, were absent in place of some far more comfortable seats.
And that makes sense in the Spyder. While all the go-faster technology is there, you’re not seriously considering taking it on a track. Are you? So yeah, the more comfortable seats are a welcome addition.
Roof down, the car looks a bit off-balance with that massive rear wing. I guess the temptation to sort that out was tempered by the fact owners would complain it didn’t have the same gear as the Coupe.
The Performante script on this one’s wing is an option and no, I’m not a fan. Also optional are the Performante interior package, bluetooth (aw, come on!), Apple CarPlay and sat-nav (in Australia, this costs A$5800…), lift system (absolutely mandatory, don’t get one without it), magneto-rheological suspension, 20-inch forged alloys and various bits and bobs.
Huracan Performante Spyder Drivetrain
(this is from the coupe – you can’t see the Spyder’s V10) – image from Rhys Vandersyde
The gorgeous 5.2-litre V10 is here in all its glory. Delivering 470kW (640PS) and 600Nm, both are up a reasonable if not huge amount from the 610PS AWD coupe. The RWD Coupe and Spyder “make do” with 580PS. And, just so you know, the Huracan Evo has this same engine. I’m already quaking with excitement to drive that one.
The same seven-speed twin-clutch transmission delivers power to all four wheels and the acceleration times are unchanged. Which suggests that the Coupe’s were either made up or conservative (I’ll go with the latter).
Driving
As you can see from the pictures, it was a bit damp on the day we had the Performante, so huge-speed heroics were not on the cards.
And, in a way, I didn’t need to do that. The Coupe I drove earlier in 2018 was absolutely mind-blowing. And before that, the 580-2 Spyder, while less capable than the 610-4 Coupe, was far more engaging with that dramatic V10 sound and towering performance. I had a good idea of what the differences were going to be.
Or did I?
The Performante’s transformation to Spyder is quite different to the standard car’s. While all that power and performance is still there, with a near-imperceptible reduction in chassis rigidity. It’s so rigid it doesn’t matter, but it is different.
With the roof down and those higher-set, more prominent exhausts (now taken up in the standard Huracan Evo), that extra level of engagement is definitely there.
Where that ultimate 7:52 Ring time isn’t possible in this car – Trofeo tyres or not – you’ll have even more fun trying. That crackling exhaust sounds like nothing else on the road, the way the two banks of five harmonise with each other as the digital tachometer needle swings towards the 8500rpm cut-out, it’s truly breathtaking.
Even though the new Huracan Evo has this same engine, it’s hard to believe it’s as ferocious as the Performante. Which probably makes it – Spyder or not – the high point of the Lamborghini range for some time to come.
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