- What is it?
- But it’s not exactly subtle, is it?
- But with all that carbon, it’s basically an ‘RS’ version of a Vantage, right?
- But look at it! It must be fast.
- What's the verdict?
- What is it like to drive?
- Tell me more about the gearbox.
- That’s a shame. Any driving modes to coax out more personality?
- Go on then, give it some welly.
- What is it like on the inside?
- What should I be paying?
Overview
What is it?
You won’t be confused as to which Vantage you’re looking at, that’s for sure. This is the new Aston V12 Vantage – the 5.2-litre twin-turbo V12 from the contemporary DB11 and DBS Superleggera stuffed into the comparatively small Vantage.
Usually a much more compact, lighter biturbo V8 sits in that nose. This isn’t a new idea though; AM has previous when it comes to V12s in Vantages – the original appeared in 2009, albeit with a touch more subtlety in the bodywork/aerodynamics department.
In this iteration, you’re looking at just under 700bhp, 550lb ft of torque and 385bhp per tonne – the latter a little down because V12s are well-known fatties. Still, a Vantage that does 0-62mph in the mid-threes and the double-tonne top end is not to be sniffed at.
Plus, this is V12 and rear-wheel drive. V12s do noise like nothing else, and rear-wheel drive means fun times and tyre bills you’re almost happy to pay. Or at least calmly resigned to.
But it’s not exactly subtle, is it?
Nope. Although it very much depends on the way you spec the car. A 40mm expansion of the track width doesn’t sound like much, but the V12 Vantage looks thick and wide, the impression of serious-faced intensity amplified by a decidedly indiscreet set of exterior modifications.
Starting at the front, there’s a new carbon fibre front bumper and bonnet – now with a slash-cut horseshoe-shaped vent in the front – and carbon front wings linked to the rear by a new, one-piece carbon sideskirt ‘inspired by motorsport’ that looks great. There’s carbon on the roof, and the rear bumper and Venturi is new (yup, carbon fibre), as are the integrated twin pipes of the centre-exit exhaust system, which is made of actual metal, albeit thinner than usual to save weight and to stop it melting.
Then there’s the big wing plonked onto the carbon bootlid which makes the V12 Vantage look like it might actually be more comfortable in livery rather than customer paint. Interestingly, you can option the V12 without, and once you’ve seen the V12 bare and in a more sober colour (Aston’s Q Division will paint any shade you wish), we doubt the ironing board will be on the agenda.
Especially when you learn that – according to Aston – the V12 has ‘similar levels of high-speed stability’ without the wing (although less overall downforce). The whole lot produces 204kg of aero at 200mph apparently, although that’s a hard one to prove outside of a wind tunnel or handy Nardo.
But with all that carbon, it’s basically an ‘RS’ version of a Vantage, right?
Well, you might think so. The new exhaust apparently saves 7.2kg, the optional carbon seats 7.3kg, the standard carbon-ceramic brakes 23kg. The kind of proudly noted minutiae that speaks of obsessive weight saving. But the seats are still part-electric – there’s a pull-strap for the base, motors for the seatback and a full set of now partially-redundant controls on the centre console. The V12 isn’t small or particularly hollow. And the car still weighs at least 150kg more than a V8 Coupe. So no. There’s a bit of confusion as to whether this is a bonkers muscle car or a track refugee.
But look at it! It must be fast.
It is. There’s no denying that. And the noise is lovely – but it’s missing something. That final crescendo that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up is AWOL. Maybe it’s the turbos damping the sound, maybe it’s just been set up to be all exhaust, but this is more effective than sonorous.
It’s also a generous wave of power that builds relatively slowly, rather than the aggressive attack motor that you might expect from looking at the outside of the car. The V12 loves to stay up in the rev-range and keep pulling, but you get the feeling that it would suit something that wants to bite your hand off. Something crisper and harder-edged. And at £270k-ish, a regular or F1 Edition Vantage at £140k-ish is a lot cheaper, and very nearly as fast.
What's the verdict?
“Overkill in a pure form, but obviously the madness here is to be celebrated”
Overkill in a pure form, but somehow less wantonly silly as previous V12 Vantages; they’ve never been about absolute speed, but more about excitement and excess. This new version manages to look intense, but somehow also take itself a touch too seriously.
Obviously the madness here is to be celebrated, endorsed and enjoyed, but done so with the acceptance that this is a caricature. And it makes no difference anyway; the 333-car run has already sold out, presumably to people who understand the flaws, but enjoy the fireworks.
And like a firework, this is the V12 going out with a bang and then a fade to black, just like the boss of the company; Aston’s recently-replaced boss Tobias Moers has said that this car will be the last of the V12 Vantages as more efficient powertrains enter the Aston Martin portfolio. One last blast for the lucky few, but you get the feeling that it’s the right decision.
Driving
What is it like to drive?
There’s nothing quite like firing a V12 up from cold, and the Vantage doesn’t disappoint. A long press of the start button and you get a whirr as the fuel pumps take a lungful of juice, and then the engine floods into life like only a V12 can. It’s not the choppy bark of the V8, but something smoother and higher-pitched.
Stab ‘D’ and you’re on the move. The eight-speed ZF auto is clever and deft enough to trawl without any hiccups, no fuss. A bit of pottering for a while to get used to everything and the first impressions are good. The truth is that the V12 is capable of normal use without too much effort. It’s not cosseting, but it’s usable.
Tell me more about the gearbox.
It’s good but not special, dealing with everything without blowing your mind. And after a few hours, you’ll figure out why. The V12 just isn’t as visceral as you want it to be in the way it makes power: it’s a flood of revs that builds as it nears the redline. But the car is a fist of a thing, and feels like it needs something faster-revving, punchier, more aggressive. An engine that attacks from the off, rather than delivering with V12 sophistication.
The V12 is a little lazy, in other words, and a Vantage with this kind of suspension and styling needs something that revs like a chainsaw. As for the noise, it’s really nice, a surging wail that feeds on its own urgency as it gathers. But it won’t make the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention completely. Maybe it loses some vocal range from the muffling effect of the turbos, but it could have been a little bit naughtier.
That’s a shame. Any driving modes to coax out more personality?
There are three: Sport, Sport+ and Track, and the lower orders are stiff but not uncomfortable. If you look at the specs, it should ride like a marble skateboard; front spring rates are 50 per cent up, rears are 40, there are 13 per cent stiffer top mounts and there’s new bushing and geometry, as well as recalibrated settings for the active dampers and steering to make the car ultra responsive.
Open the boot and there’s even a strut brace that looks like a bit of industrial pipe welded between the rear towers. It’s not pretty, but it shows intention. It hasn’t got the fluency of something from Porsche, and Track mode would struggle with bouncy circuits, never mind the average UK public road, but at least this is where the V12 feels like it’s got a bit of identity. Albeit quite focussed and possibly on drugs.
Go on then, give it some welly.
Go fast and the V12 starts to shine a little bit brighter. There’s that usual Vantage shift as you up the speedometer: what feels dense and a bit heavy, easing up as the speed increases, until you’re driving something that feels largely like a different car. It loses perceived mass in direct relation to how hard you press the accelerator.
It also has a huge amount of grip if you’re not trying to provoke it, sharp steering helping arc the car anywhere you want it. But it’s tough to get the car to stick to a line if there are any bumps anywhere in the vicinity. Even in the softest damper setting, the car will skip, flaring the rear tyres and making you work for every inch.
But the handling is at odds with the engine’s delivery – the V12 takes some time to build and lose its internal momentum, gathers its power and turbo-torque in a measured way. Once it gets going, it is palpably immense. But it doesn’t like losing revs: break traction and you can’t just snap the throttle shut to mitigate the excess, because the engine doesn’t react like a switch. That makes this car better at big bends lived on the edge of grip, rather than the short, sharp shocks of your typical B-road.
TG would very much like to try this car on a big, fast, flowing racetrack to really see what it might be capable of. That might be a very different story.
Interior
What is it like on the inside?
There’s a bit of a mish-mash when it comes to the V12’s interior. The optional carbon buckets with supportive pads are striking and surprisingly comfy fast or slow, and there’s a general feeling of raciness from behind the wheel. But the centre console is frankly a bit of a mess, and on the backside of acceptable in a car that costs this much money.
There’s a small screen stuck in the middle of the dash, isolated and barely integrated, and then as you progress down the waterfall of the centre console, a mess of buttons. There are the obvious ones for the gearbox in an arc in the middle (Park, Reverse, a big central glass Start and then Neutral and Drive), but then they seem to fall into a vague logic that frustrates.
You’d get used to it, no doubt, but there’s a lack of coherence that suggests that as functions were added, so was another button. This does not feel as if it was designed to be this busy, and it’s less attractive for it.
It’s kind of impressive in that it looks complicated and technical, but ergonomically it’s not useful, and the ‘V12’ badge in the middle of it all just looks like it’s been robbed off the front wing. Similarly, the Mercedes-sourced control pad and wheel also feel slightly out of place, and although it all works ok, it feels very last-gen. Well made, yes, but look behind the bold colour schemes and initial wow-factor, and you’ll find a car that needs a refresh.
Buying
What should I be paying?
Bluntly, you can’t buy a V12 Vantage. The 333-car run was sold before anyone had even driven it, presumably to people who know that this last-of-line machine was the final iteration before electricity becomes involved. A certain amount of speculation is a certainty, and at circa 270 thousand pounds, it’s not for the faint-hearted or thin of wallet.
With a regular V8 Vantage weighing in at under £120k and the lovely F1 Edition £142k, you have to really want that V12 noise (or be a collector/enthusiast) to warrant the 12-cylinder.
Saying that, there’s immense fun to be had on the Aston Martin configurator; there are some truly epic combinations of colour and trim to be had, from the subtle to the psychotic. And that’s before you get the bespokerising ‘Q Division’ involved. Carbon packs and different wheels can all up the list price, taking it truly stratospheric, but one assumes that when you’re heading north of £300k on Vantage, you’re not that worried.
TG went for a rear-wingless solid green version with bronze bits and a smattering of carbon and it looked lightly epic. There was also a committed search for a (slower, likely less useful) manual option that had somehow slipped down the back of the spec sofa, but alas, it was not to be found.
Suffice to say, if this is on a posh lease it’ll cost a reasonable mortgage to finance, and it probably invents its own insurance group. You’ll likely find a couple up for £500k within a week of them getting to their first ‘owners’.
Keyword: Aston Martin V12 Vantage review