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Andrew English is swept away by the Aston Martin Vantage F1
Aston Martin is firmly on track with its Vantage F1 Edition, writes Andrew English
Motor racing vigorously defends itself against the accusation that most of the audience is there for the spills rather than the thrills, but if you’ve managed to secure one of your products as the grand prix course car, you’d be forgiven for anticipating a pace-car intervention to make a publicity return on your investment – you may see one of these in action during tomorrow’s British Grand Prix. Or you can do what Aston Martin has done and build a special model out of it.
Up to now, Aston Martin’s only involvement in Formula 1 were the uncompetitive DBR4 and DBR5 in 1959 and 1960. In fact, Aston’s reputation is largely thanks to its ultra-glamorous yet understated DB5 road car, aided and abetted by a certain Commander Bond.
That changed last year when Canadian billionaire and F1 patron Lawrence Stroll headed a consortium paying £182 million for a 25 per cent stake in the 107-year-old car maker. He has plastered Aston Martin’s famous winged badge on the side of his racers, but he’s also bought in some wise heads, including Tobias Moers, former boss of Mercedes-AMG, as the firm’s CEO.
The Vantage badge first appeared as a souped-up version of the DB2 in 1951 and in 1972 it was used on the last of the six-cylinder DBS models, whereupon Vantage became a byword for basic or entry level. That changed in 1977; the 170mph Vantage V8 was the world’s fastest production road car.
The 2005 Vantage range did good things for the Aston badge and in 2018 it was replaced with an all-new model, which had a 503bhp turbocharged 4.0litre V8 from Mercedes-AMG in the nose with an eight-speed torque-converter automatic gearbox in a transaxle at the back, with an advanced limited-slip differential. For this new Vantage F1 Edition, the V8 has been tweaked by 25bhp to 527bhp with the same torque output but available for longer.
Chief vehicle engineer Matt Becker lists a host of tiny but significant chassis adjustments. “It feels more solid,” he says, “a sharper instrument.” Aerodynamic devices include a full-width air splitter and winglets at the front, as well as underbody vanes. The rear wing contributes to about 200kg of downforce compared with 30kg of the standard Vantage. The idea is that the Vantage F1 Edition will go faster, turn in more sharply and suck itself to the road more keenly. It’s available now as a coupé or a drophead and prices start at £142,000 against the standard car’s £124,400.
Enormous wing aside, the rest of the car is relatively subtle. Inside, the seats are comfortable and supportive. There’s an awesome amount of suede-effect Alcantara in there but not a lot of room.
The dashboard looks like something that controls a nuclear submarine until you realise that every switch has a similar design and visual weighting whatever its function, so the traction control is the same switch design as the interior lights.
The roads around the home of the British Grand Prix are where myself and the other Car of the Year judges assess every contender. First was Silverstone’s notorious perimeter road, which somehow has avoided being resurfaced since RAF Wellington bombers lumbered into the air during the Second World War. Crash, smash, clatter went the wide tyres through the bumps, potholes, repairs that barely live up to that name and road seams the depth of a crevasse, yet the Vantage wasn’t altogether bad on this low-speed suspension test.
On the open road it impressed even further. The best thing about this car is its steering, which is indecently good. As well as an intuitive feel, the steering response feels measured and, once turned in to a corner, its precision leaves you slightly awestruck.
Then there’s the damping... On these roads, where the suspension can be extended to both extremes of its travel within only 100 yards, the precise and progressive body control is uncanny. I turned and drove a particularly bad stretch four times just to satisfy myself that it wasn’t an illusion.
There were times when the car felt almost too stiff at the back, almost uncomfortable in its side-to-side response, but it never stepped over those marks and always stayed firm but supple, regardless of pace.
With huge carbon ceramic brakes, the Vantage F1 is not short of stopping power, but like a lot of these systems, there’s an inch of nothing-muchgoing-on at the top of pedal travel and while the rest of the stroke has progression, it’s too easy to push a little too hard through the dead zone and brake harder than you intended.
From the off, the engine has a set of sound effects that range from malevolent Wallace and Gromit contraption through water gurgling down a storm drain to an egg box of wolves. No, it’s not as refined and aristocratic as the wail of Aston’s old straight-six but it’s certainly addictive and it loves being short-shifted up the gearbox riding a creamy wave of turbocharged torque.
It’s quick, too. While the latest hypercars and battery-electric GTs would leave it standing, the way the Vantage builds pace is a thing of joy, especially as it weighs 1,630kg.
The ZF gearbox handles it all with the nonchalance of Bill Nighy slipping into an expensive suit. The engineers have tweaked the software so it kicks down fast even in the standard setting. It comes over a bit unnecessary in the various Track settings, however, and I
drove most of the route in the standard setting and changing gear using the steering wheel paddles.
I’m impressed; it didn’t feel like this chassis had so much more in it. The list of improvements is comprehensive – and it has paid off. But anyone who believes that cars require any special qualities to qualify as F1 safety cars is living in a fantasy world; as ever with F1, just follow the money.
That’s not to say this car is anything other than a really effective rework on an already fine-handling GT coupé/ convertible but, if it’s all the same to you, I’d quite like mine in a rather more discreet colour.