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Merry Christmas. Happy Hanukkah. Cheery Chinese New Year. This is the LaFerrari FXXK (yes, we know) - the track-only, experimental iteration of Maranello's hybrid masterpiece - and if it hasn't gone straight to the top of your festive wishlist, you may wish to check you haven't perished on the inside.
The basics, then. The entirely-not-road-legal FXXK employs the same basic V12-plus-electric drivetrain as the road-going LaFerrari, but making even more power. 101bhp more power, to be precise, boosting total output to 1036bhp: 848bhp coming from the 6.3-litre naturally aspirated V12 (at 9200rpm, no less) and 187bhp from the electric motor. Combined torque stands at ‘over 664lb ft'.
The internal combustion engine has been substantially overhauled for track duty, with new camshafts, redesigned intake manifolds and, most intriguingly, mechanical tappets replacing the traditional hydraulic efforts.
Ferrari also notes that the silencers on the exhaust system have been ‘eliminated', an appropriately sinister word for a noise likely to cause lasting, wonderful aural damage.
Though there's no word on a 0-62mph time, that extra power - along with some mighty trick-sounding Pirelli slicks, which feature embedded sensors feeding back information on longitudinal, lateral and radial acceleration - will mean a substantial decrease on the road-going LaFerrari's 2.9-second benchmark. Fast.
Aero? You can't handle the aero. The FXXK has sprouted a whole bunch of additional devices of downforce, innovations Ferrari says are derived from its expertise in endurance racing's GT category. At the front lurks a deep, double-deck spoiler, with vertical fins that channel air over the car's flanks, and boost the efficiency of the aerodynamic underbody.
There's yet more madness round the back, where a monster diffuser optimises air extraction from the underbody, and makes the FXXK a bugger to reverse-park.
Most interesting are those fin-winglet arrangements either side of the retractable rear spoiler. In ‘low-drag' configuration (with the rear spoiler retracted), these winglets function as guide vanes, while boosting the spoilers efficiency in ‘high downforce' mode.
Ferrari says it all adds up to 50 per cent more downforce than the standard LaFerrari can muster, the FXXK generating 540kg at 133mph.
The LaFerrari's HY-KERS electric system has been overhauled for race duty, too, with four modes now selectable from the steering wheel manettino: Qualify (for maximum performance), Long Run, Manual Boost and Fast Charge. Speaking of that manettino, you'll also be able to call up a newly calibrated version of Ferrari's genius Slide Slip Angle Control traction technology, which will do a far better version of metering power to those 345-section rear tyres than your puny right foot will ever manage.
A point of order: this is not, officially at least, the LaFerrari FXXK. Ferrari refers to it simply as the FXXK, with no mention of the LaFerrari anywhere in its press bumf. The ‘FXX' part you'll be familiar with, while the ‘K' refers to its kinetic energy recovery system. Any resemblance to a popular expletive is purely coincidental.
Like Ferrari's previous XX models, the FXXK won't qualify for any existing race series, with ‘client-test drivers' (or ‘minted punters' to the rest of us) feeding into a Maranello ‘test programme' over the next two years.
Ferrari hasn't yet announced how much you'll pay for the privilege of sort-of-owning an FXXK, or even how many will be built. Based on previous XX models, we'd suspect a price tag somewhere around £2m, and a production run of 30 or so cars.
From startup to showroom, so much could have gone wrong with the BMW i8. Its concept-car form could have been watered down, its plug-in powertrain neutered. The BMW might have been a Fisker Karma redux, a pretty shape that hid a tangle of compromises and poorly integrated hybrid technology. BMW might even have said “nicht” and canceled the project entirely.
Instead, the BMW i8 is here, and it actually lives up to the Munich marketing hype. It’s a crowd-slaying, synapse-firing sports car that kills any remaining argument that electrified cars can’t be frugal and fun to drive. It heralds a potential age of more affordable cars formed from weight-slashing carbon fiber. It’s one of a handful of automobiles that dares to envision and embody the kind of cars enthusiasts might drive 20 years from now. The i8 even helps restore BMW’s somewhat battered reputation as a leader and innovator of high performance.
Electrified stunner: Get behind the wheel of the BMW i8, and you’ll never believe it has just 357 horsepower.
In other words, it’s pretty hot stuff.
The specialness begins the second you duck below the swan-wing doors, cozy into luxurious chairs, and fire up the all-wheel-drive hybrid powertrain: 129 electric horses for front wheels and a 228-hp, electrically assisted three-cylinder gasoline engine out back. Gentle driving lets the i8 cover roughly 22 miles on battery power alone. In our testing, it delivered up to 38 highway mpg.
“Driving the i8 at speed is like getting a glimpse of a wowie-zowie future that even a Luddite can embrace.” - Contributor Preston Lerner
Toggle up to Sport mode, and the BMW i8 replenishes its 7.1-kilowatt-hour battery on the fly -- “fly” being the operative word, with the i8 surging from 0 to 60 mph in 4.2 seconds. The i8’s yee-haw acceleration doesn’t seem to compute with 357 on-paper horses, until you consider the slender 3,455- pound curb weight, nitrous-like electric boost, and a ruthlessly effective six-speed automatic transmission.
With a long wheelbase, precise (if overlight) steering, and an intimate GT-style cabin, the BMW is adept at both stoplight and weekend getaways. All-wheel-drive poise combines with surprisingly robust grip for a car with relatively narrow, fuel-saving 20-inch tires. Yet this hybrid saved some gas-electric fireworks for GingerMan Raceway, carving fluid laps and charming the pants off driver after driver.
Even the synthesized engine sound scores an improbable sensory hit. Subtly pumped through door speakers, this chesty growl perfectly suits the i8’s performance character and sounds anything but ersatz.
Chevy Volt and Nissan Leaf fans may grumble over the BMW i8’s nearly $137,000 base price. Yet the only other plug-in sports cars that have any business on track -- the Porsche 918 Spyder and the McLaren P1 -- cost $850,000 and up. Compared to those deities, the i8 is within a mortal’s reach. Measured against a more conventional two-plus-two exotic -- the Aston Martin DB9 -- the BMW virtually doubles its fuel economy, thumps its performance, and seduces onlookers at least as well. Suddenly, 140 grand sounds reasonable, especially for a car that looks and performs like a billboard for the future.
Hybrids have been promising the yin-yang package for years. The i8 delivers. Seemingly contradictory goals of performance and fuel savings meld into a beautiful, complementary whole. The result is a sports car that’s more than the sum of its hybrid parts. The i8 is an All-Star.
Do your tax returns routinely trigger DEFCON alerts at the IRS? Are your personal finances cited in biz-school case studies of the filthy rich? If so, please skip this story. This comparison test is for sports-car enthusiasts of somewhat lesser means—those with Moët tastes and, well, a Moët budget, once in a while, if the kids are already out of college.
After years of threatening a comeback and delivering a few 8C moon rocks, Alfa Romeo has resumed shipping cars to America. If images of star-crossed Milano sedans or Benjamin Braddock from The Graduate come to mind, you’re way overdue for a software upgrade. The Alfa 4C challenging Porsche’s second-generation Cayman in this test is a legit exotic with a base price barely above that of a Corvette Stingray.
In pitting this tantalizing newbie against the reigning authority in the affordable mid-engine sports-car class, we logged 650 miles, hot-lapped a challenging racecourse, and subjected the cars to a full work-up of performance tests. As always, our goal is to identify the better all-arounder, not the quicker quarter-mile sprinter or the superior track car.
For our real-world driving portion, we scouted fresh (to us) northeasternKentucky roads. This is coal country, where pickup-truck brands create tribal affiliations and rebel flags fly. To extract coal, mining companies simply blow the tops off Appalachian Plateau foothills. Laying pavement through this region also required deep cuts into mountainsides. We blitzed 66 miles of pristine Kentucky Route 32 between Morehead and Louisa, a dizzying mix of switchbacks and sweepers with more elevation changes than Six Flags’s Kingda Ka coaster. Traffic and enforcement were blissfully light.
The Cayman is the sports car that Dr. Porsche and his son first dreamed of building in 1939; two seats under a sleek roof, with the engine in the middle and the suspension cinched tight. In case you slept through physics class, a mid-engine layout enhances acceleration, braking, and handling dynamics with optimum tire loading and a low polar moment of inertia [“Location, Location,” July 2011].
A $53,595 Cayman starting price buys you an aluminum-intensive body, a 275-hp 2.7-liter flat-six, and 18-inch wheels and tires. Adding a $4690 infotainment package, $2320 power sport seats, $1790 adjustable dampers, $1560 19-inch wheels and tires, a $1320 brake-based torque-vectoring system, and a few other options bumped the Porsche’s as-tested price to $70,345.
The Alfa Romeo 4C is for all intents a cub Ferrari 458 Italia. Aping the blank-check mid-engined sports cars offered by Ferrari, Lamborghini, and McLaren, the 4C’s core is a carbon-fiber-composite tub that weighs only 235 pounds. A new 1.7-liter inline-four engine boasts aluminum-block-and-head construction, an over-square bore/stroke ratio, forged internal parts, and direct fuel injection. A BorgWarner turbo adds 21 psi of boost, and an intercooler dumps unwanted heat into the atmosphere. The 4C’s 237 horsepower doesn’t sound that impressive until you factor in its 2471-pound curb weight, a 609-pound advantage over the Cayman. Its wheelbase is shorter than the Porsche’s by 3.7 inches, with 14.9 less inches of overall length.
Adding nearly every available option inflated a $55,195 base 4C into our $68,495 test car. Extras included a $2750 leather package, a $2400 Track package, $3000 18- and 19-inch wheels with stickier summer tires, an $1800 Convenience package, $1000 red leather seats, a $500 racing exhaust, and $1850 for other nonessentials, such as a battery tender, bixenon headlamps, and Rosso Alfa paint. The only available transmission is a six-speed dual-clutch automatic.
Here’s what we learned when we put both cars in the ring.
Every 4C hop-in/drive-off event makes you feel as if you just roared away from the start of the 24 Hours of Spa. You’ve got an 11-inch-wide sill to negotiate, pedals that hinge from the floor, and the car’s aluminum-and-carbon-fiber construction proudly on display. The unmuffled four has a raucous idle. Once up and running, it pops and farts during shifts, whines from the turbo, and impolitely sneezes following abrupt throttle lifts. We found no hint of insulation against noise or heat in this car.
As with any racer, there is some pain to endure. A brutal ride, a shoulder belt chafing your neck, visors that won’t swing to the side, no armrests, and a bucket-seat bottom that requires tools to adjust height and angle are among the 4C’s hostilities. Without steering assist, parking maneuvers are a workout, and if you like to use the radio, note that the Alfa’s reception and sound quality are abysmal. Things you might use once in awhile, such as the cruise-control switch and headlamp high-beam indicator, are hidden behind the steering wheel.
Top left: Steering-wheel stitching is a thumb-skin zester.
On the road, cabin noise is so high that you reflexively check for an open window and click the upshift paddle hoping for a higher gear. The 4C feels like Alfa dusted off a competition machine, added leather and air conditioning, and dispatched its warrior to the street. Some of you might call that the definition of perfection.
And there is indeed ample joy to offset any hardship. The combination of a hellbent engine, aggressive launch control, the dual-clutch automatic’s snappy power shifts, and modest weight spanks the Porsche Cayman by more than a second to 60 mph (4.1 seconds) and through the quarter-mile (12.8 seconds at 107 mph). The acceleration is strong enough to make C7 Corvette drivers nervous. The 4C is also an accomplished stopper, with a firm pedal and no fade. The 70-to-zero braking distance of 144 feet falls four feet shorter than the Cayman’s. Even though it’s a touch less grippy on the skidpad, the 4C pirouetted through the slalom cones with grace and earned pole position around Grattan Raceway’s 12-turn road course. On the rare instance this Alfa slid its tail, the nose joined the fun in a classic four-wheel drift.
Concentric tailpipes mean a 4C with the muffler-free exhaust.
On Kentucky’s Route 32, we loved the Alfa’s unassisted steering and tenacious grip as much as we hated its tendency to self-steer over bumps and cambered pavement. The run-up to understeer at the adhesion limit is nicely predictable except for those moments when the boost kicks in and you and the chassis are surprised by a wallop of torque. Snacks and beverages are forbidden in this sports car because both hands—three if you had ’em—are essential for maintaining the desired line. A long stint of gripping the Alfa’s steering-wheel stitches leaves hands red and numb.
On the freeway, left-lane slowmos dive out of the way when a Rosso Alfa speck swells in their mirrors. The scoops and swoops adorning the 4C are so gorgeous that any cut would surely seep Ferrari blood.
This Alfa is essentially a track car with holes for license plates. The harder you whip it, the more composed it feels. But it’s been yanked from the autoclave before it was fully baked. The 4C will enthrall its owner a few times a month and then inflict suffering if pressed into daily service. Wouldn’t it be lovely if Alfa finished what it’s started with a more polished 5C?
Never mind their mid-engine, two-seat commonalities, the Alfa and the Porsche are polar opposites. The 4C is feisty and rambunctious, the Cayman always reserved. One is an Italian Viper, the other a German aristocrat. Even though the uncouth child pipped the fully matured sports car in most of our objective measurements—acceleration, braking, track speed, even fuel mileage—at the end of the day, we’d spend our $70K on the Cayman.
The Porsche’s flat-six, stick-shift powertrain is old school, at least versus the 4C’s, with high power and torque peaks. At 6000 revs, when it’s time to think about clicking the next gear in the turbo 4C, the Cayman’s free-breathing six crescendos with a clean, clear wail. There’s another 1600 rpm of motor music left to enjoy in the Porsche before pushing the shifter at redline for the next ascent. The Cayman syncs into hand, foot, and eye coordination as if its levers and pedals were mutant growths from the driver’s body. The controls are low-friction and perfectly weighted, and each movement delivers satisfying feedback.
Everything in the Porsche is honed, and it reeks of refinement. The 14-way power seats provide excellent lumbar support for long drives, and the thigh restraint is superior to the 4C’s on the track. The $1780 Premium package’s leather trim is cowhide raised to couture. Unlike in the 4C, the 360-degree visibility you’ll need for spotting officers at felonious velocities comes standard.
Even though it’s electrically assisted, the Cayman’s steering clearly communicates the tire and road information essential for venturing beyond 1.0 g. The Cayman is larger and heavier, yet it beats the 4C’s traction on the skidpad with superior balance and matches the Alfa’s agility in our slalom test. The dampers curb motion so meticulously that you can focus on dialing in the right amount of steering instead of fretting over body pitch and roll. At Grattan, the Porsche lapped a touch slower than the Alfa but with a higher level of confidence and control.
The Alfa 4C is a toy. It’s a raucously fun and adorable toy, but a toy nonetheless. The Porsche Cayman is a real car—a really great car.
Moving from track to street, the Cayman goes with the flow. Its two cargo holds, astute nav system, in-dash cup holders, and interior storage slots provide welcome flexibility on drives ranging from daily commutes to cross-country trips.
Even though the Cayman lost key points to the plucky 4C, it won the overall competition by a mile. The 4C’s saving grace is that, with its carbon-fiber tub, it’s the first sports car to bring truly exotic technology within reach of still-working stiffs. And for that, Alfa, we say, mille grazie.
Vehicle
2015 Alfa Romeo 4C
2014 Porsche Cayman
Base Price
$55,195
$53,595
Price as Tested
$68,495
$70,345
Dimensions
Length
157.5 inches
172.4 inches
Width
73.5 inches
70.9 inches
Height
46.6 inches
50.9 inches
Wheelbase
93.7 inches
97.4 inches
Front Track
64.5 inches
60.1 inches
Rear Track
63.1 inches
60.5 inches
Interior Volume
47 cubic feet
50 cubic feet
Cargo
4 cubic feet
15 cubic feet
Powertrain
Engine
turbocharged DOHC 16-valve inline-4 106 cu in (1742 cc)
4.15/4.3/28
2.27/7.9/51
1.44/12.5/81
0.98/18.3/119
0.76/23.7/154
0.62/28.7/159