YOU TAKE HAIRPINS IN FOURTH GEAR. EVEN FIFTH.
Plenty of them around here, looping coils of road that tumble down into river valleys and then ascend up hillsides lined with golden green fields through which an occasional ageing tractor trundles. Crickets chirrup, insects buzz, it’s still, warm, shutters are closed against the mid-afternoon heat and a haze shimmers over the road. Yet, at the wheel of a 1,000bhp Ferrari I’m not breaching the peace.
It wouldn’t matter if I was, because I’m well within Maranello’s sphere of influence. That extends to the borders of Italy of course, but pride is especially concentrated among these rural communities near the factory. They’ve sent entire families to work there and in return received the sound of howling V12s, the noise bouncing joyfully back and forth over valleys and hills.
But not today, because I’m in fourth, exiting hairpins not only more quietly than I ever have before, but more
“TORQUE SHOVE IS RIDICULOUS, WHICH MEANS GEAR CHOICE IS LARGELY IRRELEVANT”
powerfully too. The SF90 is a new kind of Ferrari. And it’s potentially very controversial. The new flagship, but not powered by a seminal V12. Nor is it an only-available-tocollectors limited edition. It’s 4WD. There are three electric motors. You can plug it in. It starts silently, and it can drive silently. There’s never been a Ferrari that can do that before. Or one without a mechanical rev counter behind the steering wheel.
It succeeds the LaFerrari, but does so with, in some ways, a more ordinary set of underpinnings. The aluminium (not carbon) chassis structure and twin turbo V8 are similar to those of the ‘everyday’, half-price F8 Tributo. Slung low behind the two seats Ferrari has found room for a 72kg battery pack, thick cabling taking the fizz to the two e-motors that drive each front wheel, with a third between engine and gearbox. An eightspeed gearbox that contains no reverse gear. That’s done electrically. I’m not quite sure what to make of the way it looks either – the front is sharp, but there’s a lot going on with that back deck.
There’s a lot going on full stop. This is a car that keeps your eyes busy, your brain busier. So let’s strip some stuff out and I’ll tell you about my day with the car. It started at Fiorano, because obviously the first thing you need to do when you’re still bleary eyed is get in a 1,000bhp ultra-complex hypercar and chase test driver Raffaele de Simone around the hallowed corners. “It’s less physically demanding than the 488 Pista, more usable, but still has slight oversteer characteristics with the power on,” he tells me in the pitlane. It’ll turn out his use of adjectives needs some adjustment. He suggests starting in Race mode, then switching the new manettino lozenge to
CT Off if I’m feeling confident.
And, quite quickly, I am. Torque shove is utterly ridiculous, which means gear choice is largely irrelevant. Rafa had talked about driving around here a gear higher everywhere than any other car. For a couple of laps I pretty much leave it in top, and it still rips out of corners, electron bombardment quickly chased by turbo thrust. The other thing that grabs me is how well managed the whole car feels. Traction, brakes, steering, throttle – it drives
“TO KEEP ME ON MY TOES, IT OCCASIONALLY LOBS EXTRA POWER TO THE REAR WHEELS”
naturally, harmoniously, you aren’t aware of the massive complexity that must be at work underneath. In Race mode the SF90 is neat and tight, although the traction nips at your ankles a fraction more than it needs to, just making tiny adjustments, helping you. Being a bit bossy.
Back in the pits di Simone tells me Race is fastest for all bar pro drivers. “And now CT off?” I’m phrasing it as a question. It wasn’t really. With the electric safety blankets mostly removed you’re instantly shown just how hard they’ve been working to cover for you. ‘Playful’ is a word that describes it. So is ‘lively’. Neither really encapsulates the drama that plays out. Suddenly I’m living with the reality of what 1,000bhp does to a car that’s up on its toes and alert. ‘Hectic’. There’s a word. It’s alarming how readily and happily the torque overcomes the tyres’ prodigious grip. What plays out makes sense: you touch the throttle, just breathe on it, and the rear starts to squirm and slide so power is diverted to the front to compensate. But now the torque is really hitting home and the car is still squirming, firing, fizzing. I’m juggling the steering, the car is shuffling power around trying to predict what I want, and occasionally, just to keep me on my toes, it cheekily lobs an extra dollop to the rear wheels. Fiorano: it’s a privilege to go there, a relief to leave.
Off to the hills. I lift the bonnet to stick my bag in, greeted by a shallow tray. Ah, the reality of packaging all the complexity. An airline locker bag just about fits in the 74-litre space, but it raises a question – what are owners going to use this car for? If it’s Fiorano-style antics, then fair enough, if it’s short trips on full electric, also fair enough, but surely this car has more bandwidth than that? What about weekends away, two-up roadtrips? Oh sure, you could cram a jacket in the little window box behind the seats, but this lack of practicality almost suggests Ferrari sees the car as more of a technical showcase than a car people can use, doesn’t it?
I creep out of Maranello on electric, because I can. About 12–15 miles of range, 217bhp through the front wheels and up to 84mph. It’s a novelty, a Ferrari that makes no noise, but it wears off when overtaking is required. Alongside the usual manettino the new steering wheel has a hybrid control. I’d been in eDrive, but now switch past Hybrid to Performance: engine always on. On the heavily trafficked SS12 I pick my place and zap past a pair of trucks. Mother of wotsit. It felt fast at Fiorano, but out here...
It’s all the more shocking because it arrives with no latency. The moment you pick your point and start to press it seems as if the car has got the jump on you. But the power then feeds in so smoothly, so efficiently, and the suspension is so composed that your heart rate instantly settles, you have utter confidence in the car. The car it reminds me of most is the Porsche 918 Spyder which had a similar balance of power between electric and hybrid, similar layout, too. It’s easier to drive than that, easier
to go quickly in, more cushioned and undemanding.
So for the rest of the journey to Monte Cimone I turn my attention to the cabin. There’s a lot to digest.
Ferrari has doubled down on steering wheel functionality, and mostly the rethink is successful. A pad for your right thumb controls the new 16-inch screen and with three main views (media, nav and vehicle), it actually works logically. Well until you turn left, your thumb pad brushes the control and the screen changes. It’s over-sensitive and I miss the purity of physical dials. Especially in a cockpit that’s so driver focused. I’m sure with softer seats than these optional carbon buckets, less black-n’-carbon, you could make it feel more suited to touring than hammering. But then again, where’s your luggage going to go?
We grab lunch in Fanano, where it’s market day and cries of ‘bella machina’ trail behind us like tin cans behind a wedding car. The SF90 prowls well. The complex shape mystifies people, especially the drop down section of the rear spoiler, which increases downforce at speed by blocking a slot. I open the engine bay and discover the engine is sunken like buried treasure, so deep it’s almost subterranean. Not glamorous, but compelling. I think that applies to the whole car.
It’s a curious one, Ferrari’s first proper foray into hybrid and electric. I’m not sure how people are going to use it, but I do know that as long as they do, they’ll be impressed by it. Love it? I’m not sure. Technically it’s masterful – the integration of the systems, the algorithms that control them has never been done better. But what’s sexy about that compared to a snarling V12? The twin turbo V8 is the best of its kind, but it doesn’t sing a pretty song. Other things seem to have been done as engineering challenges. The brake-by-wire pedal has as little travel as a GT racer’s, so needs to pack both sensitivity and power into an inch of movement. That’s successful, but was it actually necessary?
When we hit the hairpins, the slowing down sometimes catches me out – the pedal is inert, I can sense the additional weight, how hard the car is having to work, but I turn in and the low centre of gravity guarantees stability, the suspension is calm, the steering too despite the quick rack. And while thinking about all of this, I’ve forgotten to downshift. Mid-corner I see the display and my heart falls – I was looking forward to the whipcrack exit. But in fourth, I plant it and before my brain has really registered that I have sent a request to my right foot, the SF90 is tearing at the tarmac, leaping cleanly out the far side. This is what electric can do and this is the SF90 at its most compelling, most addictive, most shocking. A low revs, low key approach to tearing across the Italian countryside. I suspect it’ll catch on.
“THIS IS WHAT ELECTRIC CAN DO AND THIS IS THE SF90 AT ITS MOST COMPELLING”