POWER CURVES
So is the new Aston Martin Vantage better than a Porsche 911 — or even a McLaren 540C, for that matter? Gaydon boss Andy Palmer wants to know, and we’re sure you do too
Does the super-sports car actually exist? Is it really a thing? After spending a couple of days driving three new cars brought together under that banner, I have my doubts. The super-sports car may be a figment of the car industry’s imagination, I reckon; or a clever bit of profit-generating sleight of hand, more likely.
Sometimes group tests are like this. You gather three new cars together that share a broadly common price point and mission statement and you expect to find them similar; but driving them back to back at length only makes you more aware of how different they are.
Of how much separates them not just in terms of motive character and dynamic appeal, but also how different are the reasons you’d buy them and the ways you’d use them. And so it is when you try to force a McLaren 540C, a Porsche 911 Carrera GTS and the new Aston Martin Vantage into the same shopping basket. They flatly refuse to share.
It may seem odd to suggest that one of the most important growth niches in the whole performance car market may be an imagined one; super-sports cars have sold rather well for the last decade or so, after all. The segment was famously pioneered by Porsche back in the 1970s. And while it now contains cars as different as the Audi R8, Honda NSX and Nissan GT-R, it’s still known by many as tthee “9911 Turbo”ubo class because of that car’s enduring popularity. A Turbo is certainly a faster 911, after all — but has it ever been a demonstrably better sports car? Now that both four- wheel drive and turbocharged torque are widely available throughout the 911 range, the answer to
that question seems to me more debatable than ever.
In fact, Aston Martin chose instead to benchmark the 911 Carrera GTS during the development of the new Vantage. So here we are, introducing this vital new Aston to a couple of cars that can be considered key rivals for it for the next few years.
Taking the 911 as our reference sports car of choice, then, it’s interesting to observe, before we get into the detail of their respective driving experiences, exactly how both the Vantage and the 540C may be considered superior to it on the spec sheet and parked up at the kerb.
Because, for a kick-off, super-sports cars have to be super, don’t they? And, in their different ways, both the 540C and the Vantage certainly seem to be exactly that. They’ve got power and pace covered. The Vantage offers 10% more horsepower than the 911, the 540C 25% more.
The Aston Martin is also “super”-desirable, certainly. In a fairly reserved colour and even allowing for aggressive frontal styling that seldom attracts compliments, it’s a dominant presence in a car park that also contains a powder blue 540C and a grey 911. People notice the Vantage first and are drawn to it.
because, in addition to the car’s visual presence, it adds another layer of wow factor. The Vantage sounds superb: naughtier, more menacing and even more characterful than the 911 (which isn’t short on sonic appeal).
And so the Vantage has hot-rod charm to spare, and yet its engine is still ultimately responsible for the better part of the car’s driver appeal. Opening it up, where you can, is an addictive treat.
It’s now been more than five years since I first heard McLaren’s Ricardo-built turbo V8 engine, and I still can’t quite put my finger on exactly what it sounds like. It sounds unlike any other V8 you’ll ever hear, and lacks any of the woofling warmth of the Aston’s engine. The McLaren’s V8 is shorter on richness, but then it’s got over-square cylinders, a slightly peaky and dramatic power delivery and revs to the far side of 8,000rpm. All of which you’d expect of the engine in a mid-engined supercar, which is what the McLaren really is. Both V8s are, in short, very well suited to the cars they’re to be found in and neither’s much like the other.
And where, exactly, does the Porsche’s flat six come up short, then? Well, it makes for pace that’s predictably much less knucklewhitening ly rapid than the McLaren’s above 5,000rpm, and it doesn’t have the mid-range wallop of the Aston’s AMG V8. And yet, somehow, it holds its own. It has better response and a more balanced and linear power delivery than either of the V8s. It hauls with gusto and revs out very nicely indeed; latterly to well beyond 7,000rpm, by which time the Aston’s V8 has called time. And it still sounds great: spiky, busy, smooth and very special.
On handling, the cars are just as different from each other as you might expect of a relatively compact rear-engined sports car, a mid-engined supercar and a front-engined sporting GT that happen to be competing for the same customers’ money.
The McLaren feels the lightest and grips the hardest; it turns the most keenly and is the most exciting when the road and conditions are just so. And just getting into the car whets your appetite for what’s coming. Though the seats are comfy, they’re set low and inboard, being trickier to get into than either the Porsche’s or the Aston’s.
Once you’re inside, you feel as if your hips are as close as they could get to dead centre within the car’s footprint, short of requiring a switch to a central driving position. The
controls are ideally placed, with a steering wheel sufficiently vertical in its orientation and closely set to your chest as to feel like it’s come straight off a racing prototype. And that steering’s good: heavy but so feelsome thanks to Woking for sticking with hydraulic assistance.
As this test was carried out on normal roads, the McLaren’s firmly sprung chassis sometimes struggles for an assured hold on the road and its suspension occasionally runs short of the travel necessary to deal well with larger, sharper intrusions.
There’s a chink of light here, in other words, for the more softly sprung, narrower, more bump-compliant and B-road-ready 911 and Vantage to shove their pert noses through.
And the amazing thing to me is that — in respect of road driving only, remember — both force their way through it. The Porsche and Aston Martin are cars I would enjoy driving more, at normal road speeds and on a daily basis, than the McLaren, though for different reasons.
While the 540C is fantastic at its best, it wouldn’t enrich everyday miles as much as either of its opponents. The Vantage, on the other hand, does “enrichment” very well indeed. But you can tell it’s blessed with a chassis tuned by people who consider it a much more serious driver’s car than its predecessor because it’s not satisfied to play the compliant, laid-back GT all of the time. It’ll do that just fine, with Sport mode dialled into the suspension and powertrain. But the car is at its best in Sport+, when the closeness and deftness of its ride control and the finely
metered accuracy and tactility of its steering are both highly impressive.
The Vantage has cornering balance and poise too, but it feels a bit heavy and it only likes a smooth surface. The Vantage’s active rear differential can make the car throw some truly wild shapes at low speeds, away from T-junctions and around empty roundabouts if you’re feeling like a hooligan, and its antics can be highly amusing. But they’re no substitute for true handling delicacy.
For real-world use, the 911 Carrera GTS is the sweet spot — the definitive article — and all the sports car anyone with any sense would ever want. It can be fully absorbing at road speeds in more ways than you can count on your fingers, and without ever being brusque or imposing to drive.
Its handling can be playful and adjustable in places where you simply wouldn’t risk either of its opponents. Its engine shows you that linearity, range and response matter so much more than a heroic amount of outright punch you can almost never deploy. The GTS feels right-sized for the road too.
The new Vantage has the practicality, character, richness and dynamism to see off the challenge of a McLaren 540C. The leap the Aston has taken is quite plainly about so much more than an AMG engine and an aggressive new look.
What the Vantage hasn’t done, on this evidence at least, is change the foolishness of looking beyond one of the greatest versions of what continues to be one of the greatest sports cars in the world: the 911 Carrera GTS.