Feature: Beauty and the Beast

Ezra Dyer

12/01/2007

Call it the $300,000 question: For a third of a million dollars—or thereabouts—which V-12-powered, two-seat Italian exotic would you buy? In one corner, we have the Marauder from Maranello, the coupe with the Enzo motor, the Ferrari 599 GTB Fiorano. In the other, wearing sinister black paint and yellow brake calipers, packing 631 hp, the Spaceship from Sant’ Agata, the Lamborghini Murciélago LP640. On paper, they seem like natural competitors, both sporting 600-plus hp V-12 engines, a sub-four-second zero-to-60 sprint and top speed in excess of 200 mph. But in practice, these two ostensibly similar supercars each approach their ultra high-performance goals in such a drastically different manner that it’s hard to believe they’re from the same planet, let alone the same country.

For starters, take a gander at the two cars’ styling. The 599 GTB’s shape is essentially organic, as natural as a wind-whipped sand dune (the flying buttresses confirm the old adage that if it looks right, it is right, as they help channel air over the rear end of the car). It’s a sensual car, a pretty car. The LP640, on the other hand, looks like a device designed by malevolent extraterrestrials bent on subjugating the human race. It’s all blocky musculature and straight lines, a wedge designed to cleave the atmosphere at 211 mph. Even the top of the side-window glass is double-edged, making the windows appear so thick they belong on an armored Escalade.

The essential look of the LP640 has been around since the original Countach—more than three decades—and, gauging by the reaction it causes, you see the reason Lamborghini has stuck with the low, wide, cab-forward motif. There’s something about the styling of this car that brings out people’s inner five-year-old, the child who takes unvarnished joy in spotting a Hot Wheels car come to life. Paradoxically, it’s an angry-looking car that makes people very happy, and every time you approach it you’re bound to field an informal Q and A session on the scissor-doored monster.

The Ferrari, meanwhile, has near-LP640 performance, but comes off as understated thanks to its more conventional front-engine proportions. You’ll hear people say, "Hey, that’s a Ferrari!" and you’ll attract your share of cell-phone photos. However, in a restrained color like blue or silver, the 599 could be the most inconspicuous 612-hp car on the road.

The 599 GTB is a fairly big two-seater—about 9 inches longer than a C6 Corvette—but behind the wheel it feels small. The mighty V-12 up front has a strident voice, and sings at a higher register than the LP640 motor. The F1 Superfast sequential-manual transmission is, indeed, super fast, completing shifts in a mere 100 milliseconds—50 milliseconds faster than the F1 transmission in the F430. And, unless you crank the steering wheel’s manettino switch all the way to the right—thus canceling all electronic intervention save ABS—you know that there’s a safety net. If you hit a patch of gravel mid-corner, all is not (necessarily) lost. This is a reassuring car to drive fast.

Elliott Hillback, the owner of the 599 that I drove, tells me the GTB’s handling is a revelation compared to its predecessor, the 575M. He pops the hood and points out how the mighty Enzo V-12 is positioned deep against the firewall, far enough back that the 599 warrants a "front mid-engine" designation. While the 575M had 50/50 front-to-rear weight distribution, the 599 GTB actually has a rearward weight bias—53/47 percent. This imbues it with the sort of light, direct steering that you normally expect from a mid-engined car, not one with a V-12 ahead of the windshield.

The LP640’s steering is quick and accurate, but it has a strong self-centering tendency that I think serves two purposes. First of all, when you’re on a straight road doing your best imitation of an earthbound fighter jet, the Murciélago is reassuringly calm and collected. If you lose your will to keep the accelerator planted, it won’t be because you’re worried that a twitch of the wrist will send you into the next lane. Second, when you’re attacking a corner, the loaded-up steering serves as a built-in reminder that, while this car has incredibly high limits, its powers are not absolute and there’s no stability control to rescue you from a ham-fisted maneuver. All-wheel-drive and traction control notwithstanding, this is not a car to be trifled with. Take a look at www.wreckedexotics.com for proof.Both of these cars are in the top performance echelon for production vehicles, but the Lamborghini holds a decided edge in firepower, doing the zero-to-60 run in 3.4 seconds and topping out at 211 mph. The 599 GTB reaches 60 in 3.7 seconds and goes on to a top speed that Ferrari quotes as "over 205 mph." Nevertheless, the LP640 feels like it has a bigger performance advantage than it actually does, because it delivers a more brutal experience. While the 6-liter Ferrari motor shrieks its exotic wail as you move up through the gears, the half-liter-bigger Lamborghini V-12 emits a bassy roar that conjures images of World War II dive-bombers. The Ferrari’s F1 Superfast sequential manual transmission changes gears so fast that it feels nearly instantaneous—and consequently, quite refined—while Lamborghini’s e-Gear executes full-throttle shifts with such force that you’ll want to start a charity called People for the Ethical Treatment of Clutch Plates. Both transmissions pull off wonderful, throttle-blipping downshifts that make it sound like you invented the heel-and-toe maneuver.

Each car enjoys the kind of interior you’d expect for $300,000, and each can be customized to your liking. So you want a quilted leather headliner on your LP640? No problem. How about a carbon-fiber steering wheel with built-in LED shift lights for your 599? Right this way. Gadget-lovers will enjoy experimenting with the 599’s manettino switch, which allows the driver to instantly tailor the car’s electronics—traction control, stability control, shift times, and magnetorheological suspension damping—to conditions ranging from snow and ice to an all-out racetrack blitz.

The LP640 console is adorned with some intriguing buttons as well. One of them raises the front of the car to negotiate speed bumps and steep driveways; another deploys the motorized cooling intakes on each side of the engine, which also rise automatically when the motor gets hot (the fact that you can manually control them is purely for gratuitous fun). While you can easily spot the Audi switchgear in a Gallardo, the Murciélago appears bespoke. Even the air-conditioning’s recirculation button, rather than depicting a generic car’s silhouette with an arrow pointing back into the cabin, is instead emblazoned with the unmistakable shape of a Murciélago. That’s attention to detail.

So let’s talk price. The Ferrari starts at $275,000 with the F1 Superfast transmission, and Ferrari tells me that each car is delivered with, on average, $30,000 in extras—the carbon-ceramic brakes alone are an $18,550 option. The LP640 with e-Gear retails for around $325,000 and, like the Ferrari, gets even more expensive rather quickly. The transparent engine cover, for instance, is a $7,020 option. So the Lamborghini is decidedly more expensive, but at this level, is anyone really basing a decision on $25,000 here or there? Probably not.

What it comes down to is that these two cars distill years of history—and, occasionally, hostility—between Italy’s premier speed merchants. The Ferrari is high-tech, blisteringly fast, relatively restrained in its appearance and refined behind the wheel. The Lamborghini comes across as more of a throwback, a vehicle born of the belief that supercars don’t coddle nor make amends for a driver’s ability, and they certainly don’t downplay their abilities. I know there are sports-car bigamists out there who own and enjoy both marques, but I know many more people who seem to identify with one or the other, and wouldn’t dream of crossing the fence. One American who I met in Sant’Agata told me he owns 16 Lamborghinis. I asked how many Ferraris he owns.

"None," he replied.

So do you go for the car that is likely the best GT ever made, or would you rather have the brash, in-your-face rocketship that embodies a primal image of what a supercar should look like? I can make an empirical argument for either choice, but I suspect that this is a case where numbers are more important to barroom arguments than purchase decisions. This one’s all about emotion.

They say that one’s culinary palate is formed at an early age, thus the gastronomic choices you make as a child influence the food you eat as an adult. I’d suggest that Italian exotics fall into the same category, our automotive lusts shaped by the posters we had on the bedroom walls of our childhood. Which car would you want, the Ferrari or the Lamborghini? I suspect that you made up your mind a long time ago.

Ferrari, www.ferrariusa.com
Lamborghini, www.lamborghini.com