SPORTS CARS GROUP TEST · SUPERB · HURACÁN
PORSCHE 911CARRERA2 £82,793/£977pcm LOTUS EVORAGT410 £82,900/£1,189pcm JAGUAR F-TYPEP450 £69,990/£1,053pcm
New base 911 takes on Lotus Evora and Jaguar F-Type. Also a blat in the RWD-only Lambo Huracán and the Skoda Superb iV
Strange times indeed. No vapour trails in the sky, no hand sanitiser on the shelves, no pubs open – it’s like the build-up at the start of a Simon Pegg movie. Everything’s (not quite) normal. What’s needed at a time like this is a Porsche 911. I know, there’s never a time that a Porsche 911 isn’t needed, but what it does for us right now is act as a known quantity. A safe harbour. Not so much a bridge over troubled waters, as a fortress in the flow. It is automotive bedrock, unaffected by the passage of time or vagaries of virus. As impervious to outside forces as your purchase of this magazine. Ahem.
This one’s a Carrera 2. No S, no Sport Chrono, no 4WD, no nonsense. Well, eight grand’s worth of nonsense actually, but in the grand and lengthy scheme of the Porsche options list, £8k is next to nothing. It buys you a sports exhaust, bigger wheels, LED lights, sports seats, an embossed crest on the headrest and not a lot else. But you don’t need more. Because less is more. Which clearly isn’t true if you’ve been keeping an eye on human behaviour around supermarkets recently.
The whole less is more schtick surely chimes even better with Lotus. It’s simplify and add lightness expressed a different way. I know, haven’t heard much from those guys in a while, have we? Well, this is the latest Evora GT410, unveiled a couple of months back, intended to be the GT bookend of the Evora range. Which means it now has armrests.
Meanwhile, over at Jaguar, the guys have turned the headlights round – they now scowl
horizontally, lending the facelifted two-seater a meaner, angrier demeanour. Otherwise it’s as you were, only with more stable infotainment and less power. Yes, you did read that right. The supercharged 5.0-litre V8 has actually been detuned by around 40bhp, helping it fill the gap vacated by the now-deceased (in the UK at least) supercharged V6. In the F-Type line-up your choices are now four-cylinder turbo, or this. And as with the Ford Mustang, ‘this’ when it’s a V8 is always the right answer.
Let’s unpick some of what we’ve got here, because they’re an interesting trio. All rear-drive (although Porsche and Jag have versions that can send power to the front), but engine locations spread about: front for the Jag, rear for the Porsche, while the Lotus puts it in the middle. And has somehow also managed to find space for four seats. More on that later. The two British cars use unfashionable superchargers, the Evora teaming that with a 3.5-litre V6, the Porsche using two turbos to give its 3.0-litre flat-six a helping hand.
Not much of one though – it’s the least potent car here: 385bhp and 332lb ft, which even the 410bhp Evora can top. And yes, the Lotus does lose out on torque (295lb ft), but it’s only got 1,360kg to work on, when the Porsche is 200kg more and the Jag another 100kg above that. Even if V8 power does mean a healthy advantage in the thump department: 444bhp and 427lb ft, 4.6secs to 62mph says Jag. Goodbye say both rivals, claiming to post times half a second faster.
Which actually feels fastest? The Porsche, easily. I bet this produces a healthy 430bhp. It’s the entry-level 911 and it feels super-saloon quick. And I know we’ve been unkind about the gradual strangulation of the flat six, and yes, if it was my money, I’d be hunting out a pre-turbo era 991-generation 911, but this is a supremely engineered motor. Zero lag, huge mid-range grunt and something left to exploit at the top end for special occasions. This is the engine they restrict the most, and yet it revs freely and powerfully. I know it’s a small thing, but this is
clever calibration, and it’s not something the Jaguar shares. This V8 should hammer from tickover but it feels stifled in the mid-range, like it can’t get enough air in. Then, once past 5,000rpm it opens up and fires itself to the 6,800rpm redline. For daily use, it needs a beefy mid-range, but instead it has to kickdown to get going at the rate you expect from a 450bhp sports car. And that means you have to keep on top of it more – pull paddles, be prepared.
You’re more involved in the Lotus anyway as there’s a stick between the seats. One you actually have to move about. The six-speed manual has a lovely shift – it hasn’t got a visible mechanism, but you can sense the beauty and precision underneath, even if you can’t see it. That alone means you’re more aware of what the engine is doing and where you are in the rev range. And where the Porsche doesn’t feel massively turbocharged, this doesn’t feel massively supercharged. It’s just got really good response. Plus it sounds terrific – a blood-curdling rasp that’s as dominant as you’d expect when the engine occupies most of the rear-view mirror. It’s the best to listen to. The Porsche sounds OK, but rather too polite these days, and in steady state driving the flat six’s voice is lost to tyre roar. Shame.
The bigger loss is to the Jag’s V8. This used to be a triumphant thing, all the pomp and stomp you’d ever want, overrun barrage and rolling theatrics. But the powers that be have had their say and the F-Type has lost its voice. It’s still there, but you have to listen out for it. There is an upside, and it’s efficiency. With the old V8, I could have promised to down a litre of super if it ever bettered 20mpg, and my throat would have remained unscorched. But this one: 30mpg on a long haul, 25 average. Yes, the gearing is long, and the aero improved, but it’s a match for the Porsche (which has never, in real-world driving, exhibited the improvements over the old nat asp unit that it claims).
The Jag’s manners have improved as well. Well, they’ve reined in its dynamic excesses a bit. Because you sit high compared with the two cars that put their engines behind the driver, you’re more exposed to body movement. It’s fine driven at moderate speeds, but press harder and it becomes more disconcerting, the steering too quick and lacking feel, the suspension slightly lumpy. At the track, all it wanted to do was slide. Traction wasn’t only an issue there – pulling out of junctions, reversing in gravelly car parks, it just wanted to wheelspin. Treat it as a GT and it’s fine.
But put it up against two cars that trade on their dynamic dexterity and the Jag’s foibles stand proud.
Lotus hasn’t lost its mojo. The Evora flows along roads effortlessly. It’s light in your hands and light on the road, so you keep your inputs modest and let momentum build. You don’t really need to accelerate and brake, just steer and let the sensations filter back. Because it’s light, the suspension isn’t compressing as much, so the Evora is less deflected by mid-corner bumps – it’s got more left in reserve to soak
“THE F-TYPE IS LESS ROWDY NOW – BUT IT’S STILL WILD ENOUGH TO BE EXCITING”