Our car is the range-topping V8 S
(recognizable by the quad exhaust pipes), which is fitted with a new,
lightweight version of Jaguar’s trusty 5.0-litre supercharged V8, good for 495
PS and a whopping 625 Nm of torque. Jaguar claim 0-100 km/h in 4.2 seconds and
a top speed of 299 km/h, but forget the stats, just listen to that noise! Roof
down, the sound of the V8 dominates all early impressions of the car and even
as the miles stack up and you delve deeper, it remains a primary feature of the
new F-type. How can I even begin to describe it? In the ‘Dynamic’ mode (like
all modern cars, you can fiddle with the suspension/throttle/exhaust settings.
I won’t bore you with the details) it emits a gravelly baritone growl that
sounds as if it’s reverberating through a deep limestone cave; it grows to a
rapid, multi-cylindered snarl as the revs reach the 7,000-RPM red-line and then
it pops and crackles like a NASCAR as you release the throttle. It’s so much
fun, it sounds illegal, the kind of noise the European Union will surely want
to outlaw in the name of health and safety.
Our
car is the range-topping V8 S (recognizable by the quad exhaust pipes), which
is fitted with a new, lightweight version of Jaguar’s trusty 5.0-litre
supercharged V8, good for 495 PS and a whopping 625 Nm of torque
And it’s not all bark and no trousers (or
whatever the saying is) — the noise is a fitting accompaniment to the
shattering performance and the neck-bending, dear-mother-of-god acceleration.
There’s been a load of chatter on the internet about how the V6 is the sweetest
of the new F-type range, because the engine’s lighter and the handling’s more
balanced (see next page); well, I may have only driven the V8, but I can state
categorically that my favorite is the V8. The throttle response is so instant,
it doesn’t feel like a forced induction engine – it feels more like a monstrous
7.0-litre V8, the kind of gigantic motor they used to fit into CanAm racers in
the 197os. At 1,665kg, the V8 is hardly a lightweight car (despite the
all-alloy construction), but this engine feels as if it could pick up the
F-type and swat it like a flea, it’s so potent.
"Performance"
seats? Silly name, but great to sit in
All three models in the range – the V6, the
V6 S and the V8 S are fitted with a tightly-packed eight-speed ‘Quickshift’
gearbox; it’s an auto with paddles and don’t bother asking for a manual. The
Alcantara-trimmed steering wheel feels small and not hugely comfortable to hold
(your fingers have nothing to wrap around at the back of the quarter-to-three
position), but the paddles are well positioned and precise. The gear change in
the ‘Dynamic’ mode is, well, as quick as the name ‘Quickshift’ suggests, with
lovely blipping downshifts, but more surprising is the steering itself. That
too is ‘quick’ – in fact, the hydraulic rack is the fastest ever fitted to a
Jaguar, according to the official blurb. It feels direct, utterly slack-free,
with zero hesitation when you turn in and the feedback is full of lovely
detail.
All
three models in the range – the V6, the V6 S and the V8 S – are fitted with a
tightly-packed eight-speed ‘Quickshift’ gearbox
And now we’re approaching the core of the
F-type’s character: the handling. That noise and the acceleration might raise
an eyebrow or two when you first get into the car, but the bit that’ll really
get your jaw to drop is the way this thing sits on the road. It feels
shamelessly, rudely rear-wheel drive – a proper, hairy, sharp and slightly
scary sports car. Yes, all the trimmings and technologies might be
state-of-the-art luxury car, but the blood of the V8 F-type is more fiery than
first-class. It’s partly down to that steering, the throttle response, the
eagerness of the gear change, but the differential is also key. The V6 models
get a mechanical limited-slip diff, but the V8 is fitted with an electronic
‘Active’ diff, which uses an electric motor and a multi-plate clutch to tighten
or loosen the diff, depending upon factors such as stability, traction and how
deep your right foot is mashed into the carpet. Turn into a corner and get on
the throttle and you can feel it squat down and attack the bend in a way that’s
just begging you to boot it and hang the tail out. It’s so noticeable, so conspicuous,
so deliberate. Jaguar and their chief engineer, Mike Cross (Lord of Oversteer),
obviously decided to shake up the comfy Jaguar brand with a bit of proper,
ballsy, tail-out sports-car action.
And
now we’re approaching the core of the F-type’s character: the handling
The result is dynamite. On our favorite
roads in Wales, in the pouring rain, with the car set resolutely in the
‘Dynamic’ mode, my heart was pounding in the F-type. It feels taut, sensitive,
even a little fidgety at speed; every short straight is demolished by the V8,
every corner is a toe-twitch away from an extravagant slide. The responses are
hair-trigger instantaneous and that torque looms large over every move you
make, every input you dare feed in. It is fantastically, absurdly, implausibly
exciting to drive – challenging (on the limit) in a way you just wouldn’t
expect in a modern Jaguar. Traditional XJ owners might find it all a bit too
rampant for their tastes; even modern Porsche and Maserati drivers might be
taken aback, TVR drivers will feel right at home, although they’ll wonder why
the interior doesn’t smell of superglue. The F-type is a new kind of Jaguar.
Or, maybe, it’s an old kind of Jaguar. Either way, I’m glad they made it.
