Better late than never
The F-Pace SVR was meant to launch last summer, but something cryptically described as a ‘critical parts supply issue’ means we’re driving it – and you’re able to buy it – a long time after Jag first promised. Which, when you’re competing in the performance SUV market, is potentially a bit of an issue. No corner of the car world seems to have acquired so many combatants so quickly, meaning the SVR launches to a potentially angrier pack of rivals than it should have.
Up front is Jaguar’s familiar s’charged V8, here possessing 542bhp and 502lb ft. It’s up on power compared with its Alfa and AMG equivalents, but, at 2070kg, carries more weight, so its 4.3secs 0–62mph time is 0.5sec worse off. Power is sent through all four wheels, but via a transmission that heavily favours the rear axle. There’s a traditional 8spd auto rather than a newer-fangled twin-clutch gearbox. If all of this is ringing a bell, then that might be due to the F-Pace’s enemy within, the Range Rover Sport SVR with which it shares so much.
That Rangey’s a raucous, rowdy old brute, and as soon as you climb into the more subtly styled Jag – no eye-wateringly pointless carbon-fibre bonnet here – you realise the two have collected the same components but diverged when it comes to character.
This is by the far the finest appointed F-Pace and feels a real step up in luxury over its lesser range mates. When not pushed, the engine is pretty quiet, too, and driven briskly – as opposed to aggressively – the SVR exhibits the demeanour of a car that wants you to settle into its supportive thin-backed seat and just swallow miles. It feels its weight and heft, and initially like a missed opportunity.
But then you provoke it, ramping up its driving modes and loosening the ESP, and a truly animalistic car reveals itself. Especially
if the roads are damp. Is there a more easily cajoled AWD system on the market? I’ve not driven it. The SVR’s two tonnes mean it’ll understeer if pushed too hard, so you brake into turns a little to get the nose settled. Once it has, you’d better be ready to manage the rear axle. It’ll slip a little with a little throttle; it’ll slip a lot with a lot of throttle.
To achieve the point-to-point blast its rivals specialise in, you need to pare back your inputs, mind how much you overlap throttle and steering. It’s perhaps the most driver-focused SUV of the lot, in that it dances to your tune but will show you up if you’re not paying due attention. It’s the most slapstick Jaguar I’ve driven in a long while. In a good way.
Its V8 feels as wonderful as ever, but in a world of sledgehammer twin-turbos, it simply doesn’t feel as bombastic in a straight line, nor does it sound like it’s gargling its key metallic components like the similarly propelled Rangey SVR does. It’s just a much calmer place to sit; Jag’s latest-generation infotainment impresses, the customisable digital dials feel glitzy and it rides very well for its 22in wheel size. The gearbox is quick-witted and with eight relatively short ratios, it’s addictive using the paddles. Though the transmission’s also pretty smart when left to its own devices, with only its clunky kickdown as a black mark.
Everything slots together neatly, with all the components working in harmony, which is why it feels so subtle in those first few miles. While other super-SUVs might feel like family cars with a hot rod engine uncouthly shoehorned in, this feels the car the F-Pace chassis was always made for, even if it’s mad when really pushed. It may be a year late, but on this evidence, the F-Pace SVR has been worth waiting for.
“IS THERE A MORE EASILY CAJOLED AWD SYSTEM ON THE MARKET?”