There are many elements to this story. I would delve further into each and every one in the minutiae but the focus, perhaps for once, needs to be squarely on the car in question. That car is the Ferrari 12 Cilindri, and I was flown to the wonderfully green and undulating land that is the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg to sample the latest in the exalted lineage of the front-engined Ferrari V12. Small land, huge GDP. Who knew?
Anyway, this was the international media first drive, and, as such, I was in exalted company. A whistle-stop tour – I flew in from Spain, confusingly to all – but swiftly supplanted to the Chateau D’Urspelt. Here, we were allowed time to decompress before being introduced to Ferrari’s latest model by way of a static car and a presentation from the team responsible for the long, luxuriant grand tourer parked in the hotel’s forecourt.
With the car sitting elegantly in the courtyard, perhaps we should start with the visuals. I will be brutally honest; on the first reveal earlier in the year, I wasn’t so much underwhelmed as perhaps I didn’t really get it. The 812 that this car semi-replaces is a good-looking car. Purposeful, muscular and very much supplanted in that front-engine V12 lineage that the company is synonymous with.
The 12 Cilindri felt and looked different, and therefore I felt maybe a little out of place. I guess this is time for Aaron’s rant on the linearity of design, etc. In the metal, lit by the golden hour in Chateau surrounds, one has the opportunity to take the car in and appreciate the proportions more than is possible in print or on screen. Members of the design team spoke of influences from the 1950s and 1970s space age design in automotive. The 365 GTB was mentioned, and one can see the manifestation of the inspiration in the car’s strong front end. As with all modern Ferraris, none of this is form over function. Active aero, floating rear buttresses (a Ferrari first), three pairs of vortex generators and two front diffusers. These sculptural and geometric elements of the design bring the necessary cooling and aero elements, very much marrying the design and performance elements of the car.
The side profile also previews additional design elements with the clamshell bonnet, front-hinged for the first time since the 456 of the early 90’s, there is no evident cutline which enhances the clean, sweeping architectural aspect of the overall design. When open, wheel profiles are revealed, a la single seat, giving a racing feel to the package.
This is far from simply an exercise in design. The chassis is based on new aluminium spaceframe technology using larger cast elements, and 100% recycled aluminium is used in the gearbox subframe. Torsional stiffness is increased by some 15%, and elements such as the carbon roof are now standard rather than what one could imagine would be an eye-watering addition to the options list. Brake by wire means a shorter pedal, providing shorter stopping distances and a consistent pedal feel and modulation. Alongside a specifically calibrated version of the third generation of virtual short wheelbase (Passo Corto Virtuale) and a six-way dynamic chassis sensor that predicts speed and dynamics, the car is very much set up to aid the driver rather than cause consternation. Caress, rather than paw.
Power comes from the only naturally aspirated V12 available, derived from the block seen in the 812. However, in the 12 Cilindri this represents a 600rpm higher redline and a gain of 30bhp. The 6.5 litre V12 puts out 818bhp at 9500rpm. I mean, come on now. The engineers at Maranello have created six into one manifolds from the block, all of the same length, which alongside that heightened redline allow for as much of that V12 sonorous resonance to echo throughout the Duchy’s hills. On that note, I always thought England was the green and pleasant land. 80% of max torque is also accessible at 2500rpm, so power delivery should be as instant as instant can be… but more on that later.
In fairness, the car was released visually a while ago. Many people have cast their eyes and given their aesthetic conclusions. As alluded to, I think time has very much been kind to the 12 Cilindri in the weeks that have followed. I now very much get it, in so far as understanding what it encompasses from a lineage and language point of view. I wouldn’t say that it has grown on me, but my viewpoint regarding its form has been given some much-needed context. However, I was here for the driving. For the visceral emotions. For the “please don’t let me bin it” emotional pull I can’t help but seek.
One of the stand-out comments over the course of our presentation at the Château was that the 12 Clinindri doesn’t need to be the biggest, baddest, maddest or fastest car that those hallowed halls produce. There are other models for that. The point of the Ferrari ecosystem in 2024 is that there are horses for courses (or should that be brake horses for tracks?). Point being, this structure allows the12 Cilindri to be a far more accepting, forgiving and therefore usable machine than perhaps some of her forebears. The 812 that I mentioned earlier is a spikey ol’ thing. Having spent a couple of hours in one, admittedly in the raining streets of London, I spent a fair deal of time trying to keep her straight and true, with even the lightest of throttle inputs. This meant that I approached my circa 190km morning assault – ahem, drive – with a smidge of reticence. Now in the road-hardened company of an international media launch with the brand, the last thing I wanted to do was to be he who binned it.
One slides into a cockpit that, with the Roma, Purosangue et al, now represents a very consistent theme. The gear selector mimics a gated structure, Manettino on wheel. There are three screens to take in your information. A much more forgiving set-up than seen on the 296, where the instrument binnacle houses CarPlay and all the rest. There is a central 10.25-inch screen in addition to the driver’s 15.5-inch and passenger 8.8-inch display. This deals with the aforementioned CarPlay and also peripherals such as climate controls. Visibility and appreciation of the car’s dimensions are good if not outstanding, though perhaps I’m doing it a disservice when compared with other cars of its ilk. The interior flourishes, such as the dark aluminium fixings alongside the now ubiquitous use of carbon fibre? A smattering ‘tis not. All in all, the 12 Cilindri sets the pilot up in comfort and care. Amenity heavy, one can see long swathes of road being covered with ease. Well, if the driving matches the interior comfort…
190km is a fair old jaunt, even in a car one knows intimately. So, setting off as the sun rose, warnings of what the various road signs meant and the very obvious presence of cameras and/or the local gendarmerie echoed in my mind. Perhaps an additional espresso should have been brewed. Anyway, on some roads plucked straight from a dreamscape, sunlight dappling the mill pond tarmac through the lushest of tree canopy, the 12 Cilindri is an absolute delight. With what I could take out of it, how it delivered and gave confidence – especially in a car that no one could describe as ‘petite’ – the results were simply astonishing.
The readership probably knows me well enough by this juncture that events such as these are like manna from heaven. Ambrosia to the gods. Cake to fat kids. Cars are everything and more to me, and maybe there are rose-tinted glasses on mornings such as this. But again, disservices being done, I think the quality of the product is what allows for these moments to be cherished so deeply. The car fulfilled childhood and adult fantasies alike, and its sure-footedness and speed of response meant I covered the three-hour proposed route in, let’s just say, a lot less than the three hours. The size shrinks as you drive, wrapping you in the most glorious of curves and materials, as its sure footedness pulls at those racing heart strings. It is an easy car to place despite the size, and turn in is positive and assured through the front end. Less of the squirrely nature of the 812, the 12 Cilindri seems better plated with stability that falls at all four corners and covers ground with a softness that plays into its GT wheelhouse, effortlessly.
As the kilometres faded into the distance, I coaxed the Manettino switch across to race, perhaps somewhat coddled into a sense of confidence that the rest of the experience had given. This is the part where that duality of personality comes into play, and the 812-shaped devil on the 12 Cilindri’s shoulder nods their head and flicks you a wink. Blood pumps quickly. Responses pick up pace. Joy unfolds.
We were also treated to afternoon ‘track’ time at the Goodyear Proving Ground. It’s not a track. I’m telling you. It’s. Not. A. Track. So, the wonderful team organised an afternoon session at the aforementioned track. Shit. Proving ground.
Goodyear represents one of the two tyre partners that collaborated on the production of the road tyres for the 12 Cilindri. A tyre-specific nylon overlay and dual compound treads are just two elements that make this Eagle F1 raid tyre so special. And we were certainly at the place to test that. As well as the large, shaped tarmac thing that’s not a track, Goodyear has a huge simulator that mimics any driving condition one can imagine alongside an almost limitless amount of tyre characteristics that can be programmed in, greatly aiding production time and resources. The simulator itself mirrors the one at Maranello, further providing linearity to development.
Track driving is an interesting beast. If not fully accustomed to the limits of adhesion and the complexity (and therefore quality) of the systems that these types of cars utilise, it is easy to only use 50% of what the car offers. Hell, that number may well be even lower. What I did notice was an increase in confidence with each metre that the car threw itself forward. Gearbox in race, the car very much urges you forward through an onslaught of sensation. In 2024, those Fast and Furious-esque visuals as the world blurs and the nitrous fires are now very much real world, such is the gain of pace that one sees down the straights. Braking is solid and linear, and gives confidence, though a lack of track time meant a reticence to really send it into any corner. Saying that, what it did give me an opportunity to experience was what 10/10ths on the road feels like, just with the security of the track setting.
What I mean is I drove the 12 Cilindri at a similar rate the quickest of drivers would give it on a public road. It’s a car that does many, many things well, and a hot lap with a Ferrari driver showed me exactly what the extreme of its abilities were, and that was astonishing. We spent some additional time with the Goodyear team, also experiencing the mind-bending simulator and its responses. Christopher Nolan would be befuddled. As someone who never really fell into the Grand Turismo world, I was slightly taken by the otherworldly feel of the set-up. But it was easy to appreciate why the partnership and technical set-up employed is such an aid to both of the participants. Ferrari can collaborate directly, and Goodyear has the benefit of shortened development times. Symbiosis indeed.
So, conclusions. Was the 12 Cilindri the fastest car I have ever driven? No. Is the 12 Cilindri the most ballistic car I have ever driven? No. Is the 12 Cilindri the most fear-inducing car I have driven? No.
It is, however, one of the best. As an all-around package, it’s a car that one can see employed in myriad scenarios, and still be the best thing there. As a car that can take its owner across continents in style and speed, I am not sure anything comes close. With a V12 soundtrack that still can shriek with the best of them, an interior that provides luxurious materials and touchpoints, and a chassis and electronic set-up that flatters the driver, the 12 Cilindri is a car for the ages; one from the modern stable of Ferrari that will endure long into the future.
