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Back to Library >Aston Martin V12 Vantage review
Actually they now create all sorts of impossible bottles. Newcomers start out by popping a closed, damp pine cone into a milk bottle and then letting it dry and expand. Then they move on to the classics before branching out. Last month someone found an ingenious way of constructing a Red Bull can in a bottle of vodka.
I say it’s a club, but really it’s more of an apprenticeship. Because it’s only following many months of practice and after an HMS Ark Royal complete with a full complement of Sea Harriers has been assembled inside a standard 57ml Tabasco bottle that they are allowed to work on a V12 Vantage.
You might think I’m telling a tall (ships) story, but I think it’s the only possible explanation. Open the carbon bonnet of the latest V12 Vantage and the sense of wonder is just the same as it was with the first one back in 2009. How did they fit that in there? Of course this time it’s not a 5.9-litre naturally aspirated V12, but a 5.2-litre, twin-turbo V12, although the ethos is just the same. Biggest engine, smallest car. A perfect fit.
Before we get to the sound and the performance of the engine, however, I want to talk about where you sit. One of my main gripes with last year’s F1 Edition Vantage was that the seats were standard items; they didn’t set the right tone when you got in and didn’t hold you quite snugly enough when driving it as intended.
In the V12 Vantage you can (as an option) have the same carbon-shelled buckets that we first saw in the V12 Speedster and they are fabulous. They feel firmer, more purposeful and support you in all the right places when the car is loaded up. Aston has patented the design and I’d say they are the equivalent of Porsche’s 918 bucket seats, which I also love. Visually they lift the cabin too. Having padding only where it’s needed and leaving much of the carbon visible makes them look like the lightweight option they are, saving 7.3kg compared to the standard chairs.
Sunk low behind the familiar, high Vantage dash, there is a lovely snug feeling once you’re ensconced. A silver V12 badge below the starter button reminds you of what you’re about to wake up and the engine delivers on expectations with a meaty, theatrical eruption when you press the glass puck. It’s actually not unlike the standard car’s twin-turbo V8 in character and tone, but it has a noticeably bigger, deeper presence.
There is no option in this latest V12V to feel the character of the engine through a clutch pedal, with Aston’s eight-speed ZF auto being the only gearbox available. It has been improved noticeably in the last couple of years, however, and is now a more sporting fit for the car. Yes, a dual clutch item would give a slightly harder-edged, more purposeful feel to the drivetrain and I’d like that, but the auto never felt like it was getting in the way. The big, metal paddles also provide a nice amount of tactility in both action and feel on the fingertips.
Now, you might think that a big V12 in a little car, with all 690bhp and 555lb ft of torque going to the rear wheels would make for a fairly hair-raising experience, but that’s not the case. I’m not suggesting it doesn’t feel thumpingly quick because it does, even if the 0-62mph time of 3.5 seconds is just a tenth quicker than the V8 Vantage. But it’s not a lairy car because traction is absolutely mighty, thanks partly to the larger rear tyres and wider tracks, but I suspect also the 41 per cent softer rear anti-roll bar.
You can easily adjust the car on the throttle but actually unsticking the 315-section tyres takes a concerted effort. If this sounds a bit disappointing, it’s not. Instead it gives you the confidence to really lean on all the torque from early in a corner and lets you slingshot out with a rather addictive slug of absolutely hooked-up acceleration. Second gear only extends just beyond 60mph at the limiter, so it feels decently urgent in its gearing too.
Combined with the increased body stiffness and firmer spring rates front (50 per cent) and rear (40 per cent albeit tempered by a tender spring) there is something of the track refugee about the new Vantage’s overall demeanour. It’s not a 911 GT3 competitor, but nonetheless it feels tough, responsive and grippy, leaning into the sidewalls of its Pilot Sport 4S rubber quickly, which actually makes it nicely engaging at all speeds.
You do feel the 1795kg kerb weight at times over bigger bumps but it’s more of a reminder of the engineering feat under the bonnet than a dynamic deal breaker. I also found that, like the F1 Edition, you need to keep the dampers in their softest setting (Sport) otherwise things get too unruly.
The chassis’ more focussed character is manifested in the steering too, which is the best of any current Vantage. It’s pleasingly weighty and the increased responsiveness is matched by a greater sense of connection, so it makes the car easy to place as well as engaging.
I drove hundreds of miles in the V12 Vantage in the couple of days that it was with me and in many ways I found that the steering and chassis upgrades were even more of a highlight than the engine. I suppose it’s inevitable that the twin-turbo V12 isn’t quite as exciting as the old naturally aspirated one (let alone the V12 found in a Ferrari 812 Superfast), but the whole package surrounding this latest Vantage’s heart transplant still ensures that the car feels decisively more special than a V8 version.
That package includes the wrapping, too. I’d do without the optional, droopy rear wing but I think the rest of the bodywork changes are fabulous. The wider arches, the 25 per cent bigger grille, the huge vent in the bonnet, the centre exit exhaust and the deeper sills all give an already muscular shape even more bulk, but without losing the tautness and refinement of the original shape. It’s probably closer to the old GT12 in terms of its aesthetic, but with a more cohesive feel.
Overall, I’m just pleased that this generation of Vantage has continued the brilliantly barmy tradition of getting a V12 version. It’s a car that is quite hard to pigeon hole or even find competitors for. It’s not specifically a track car, nor is it more of a GT. In fact it feels like it’s been produced without a specific use case in mind, but just because it’s fun and appealing on a very fundamental, conceptual level.
I’m certainly glad it exists, even if it is very much a limited edition. And there will be no more V12 Vantages after this. Once the 333 engines have been shoehorned in and the buyers have handed over at least £225,000 each, that will be it.
Which will, I imagine, leave The Biondo Club feeling rather bereft. However, with Giovanni’s portrait gazing down on the engineers, I have no doubt that they will find other ways to honour his legacy. After all, how do you think the one-off V8 Cygnet came about?