It’s Britain’s most important sports
car in a decade. Is it up to snuff?
This is the all-new two-seat Jaguar. By any
reckoning, that makes the F-type a bona fide automotive landmark. But because F
follows E, and because the Jaguar is now capable of flexing real creative and
financial muscle, the F-type seems at least as significant as the XF saloon was
in 2008.
If Jaguar gets the F-type right and every
indication is that it has – then the sporting reputation it has traded on since
the late 1940s should be reaffirmed for a further half-century. It’s one where
differentiation from close competitors will be crucial. You don’t need to get
further than the car’s name to know that Jaguar is making a statement, but first
and foremost the F-type must succeed as a new car rather than a
brand-stimulating halo.
This
is the all-new two-seat Jaguar
The F-type’s name-checked predecessor sold
70,000 examples on its way to iconic status, but the E-type cost close to half
as much its big rival, the Aston DB4. Jaguar hasn’t flinched with the F-type’s
pricing and insists that its chosen spot for market penetration is ripe for a
high-priced, front-engined, rear-drive convertible. We’ve extended the toughest
test in the business to find out if it’s right.
Design and engineering
Design first, then, because you can’t
mention a new Jaguar without mentioning its design, or its design director, Ian
Callum, whose CV makes a handy check sheet of cars that still look good today:
Volvo C70, Ford Puma, Aston Martin DB7 and Vanquish, and every Jaguar conceived
during the past decade.
Plenty
of legroom, excellent seats, a low and recumbent driving position and a high
scuttle make for a cocoon-like cockpit
The F-type follows Jaguar’s familiar recent
themes: an economy of lines and taut surfaces, the latter an area in which
Jaguar has worked hard to get the best from its aluminum skin. Radiuses of some
crease lines are down to 8mm much sharper than you’ll typically see from this
lightweight but hard-to-press metal.
The resulting shape meets, in our eyes,
unanimous approval. Seemingly, the question isn’t “Do you like it?” but “How
much do you like it?” A typical answer is “Quite a lot”.
Only
196 liters here – less than half the capacity of a Mercedes SL or a Porsche 911
That aluminum skin clothes an all-aluminum
alloy monocoque, with all of that material’s relative advantages and
disadvantages. Evidently, one of the important ones is that it sends a message:
aluminum is an alluring metal. They make planes and space rockets out of it,
after all.
But while some car makers use it widely in
some chassis areas and in other areas not at all as part of a multi-metal
structure, Jaguar’s monogamous relationship with the material, which has a high
specific strength but a relatively low density, does it few favors when it
comes to packaging (as we’ll see). It also does not necessarily bring with it
the weight advantages Jaguar would have you believe.
The 1665kg claimed kerb weight looks
respectable, but fully fuelled (and otherwise empty), our test V8 S tipped
MIRA’s scales at some 1810kg. Why is it that heavy? Because its mechanical spec
makes it so.
Consider that the F-type is a 4.4m-long,
1.9m-wide convertible with a supercharged 5.0-liter V8 engine under its bonnet,
an eight-speed automatic gearbox and an active differential at the rear, with
all-round double wishbones and the V8’s uprated brakes, and 1810kg doesn’t
sound so terrible – as long as you put the ‘lightweight aluminum’ claims to one
side.
Roof-up
headroom could be better
Our files are short of recent convertibles
in a similar mechanical spec, but our archive throws up some interesting
comparisons. Closest we’ve weighed is the current Mercedes-Benz SL500, which
the F-type beats by 5kg. But it’s heavier than a Nissan GT-R (by 35kg) and a
Mercedes SLS coupé (by 100kg).
The F-type will inevitably work out heavier
still than a Porsche 911, which is narrower and has a smaller drivetrain than
the Jaguar. But while it’s not a like-for-like comparison on paper, the fact is
that a 911 is the F-type’s nearest showroom rival. A current 911 Carrera (non-S
and a coupé, granted, because we’ve yet to figure an S cabriolet) weighs just
1380kg on MIRA’s scales. Given the all-up weight, it’s clear the Jaguar will
need some underbonnet fireworks if it’s to perform with a 911 in a straight
line. And as luck would have it…
Interior
You don’t sit on or in the F-type; instead,
you climb aboard and peer over the dash like a remora fish looking past a
shark’s jaw. The sensation that you’ve been countersunk into the high-sided
cabin is essential to the car’s striven-for intimacy (and is helped by having a
bulkhead behind the seat backrest), and even if the surfaces don’t quite fall
towards the driver as intended, there’s no denying the snug purposefulness.
This
is a cabin meant for the driver, and for driving
We’ve alluded to the age of Jaguar’s
switchgear recently, so the interior’s renewal is as welcome as it is
significant. The gear selector dial has gone, replaced by a joystick-size,
trigger-fired obelisk of a shifter. It’s satisfying to use but not so comfortable
to hold – functional, then, not a rest for your left hand.
It’s
satisfying to use but not so comfortable to hold – functional, then, not a rest
for your left hand
Around it, the rest of the excellent cabin
follows suit, tending towards a more athletic brand of sporting luxury than has
previously been encountered in a modern Jaguar. The steering wheel rim has
simultaneously shrunk in diameter and increased in girth, acquiring an optional
flat bottom on the way. The two-tone dials are pointedly analogue and
noticeably bolder, while the button to access Jaguar’s familiar Dynamic mode is
now a slider switch that must be armed like a missile array, and is picked out
(along with the gearshift paddles and engine start button) in a metallic orange
finish.
Most functions are mastered via a center
console meant to be solely the preserve of the driver. The passenger’s side is
clearly demarcated by a prominent grab handle and slightly different trim
finishes: there can be no mistaking that this is a cabin meant for the driver,
and for driving.
The cockpit isn’t without one or two
quality question marks – the dials flex a little on their mountings, the
indicator stalks feel cheap and some of the materials aren’t finished in a
manner consistent with the F-type’s pricing but the overall impression is one
of stylish, luxurious and convincing substance. The meagerness of the 196-liter
boot is still an issue, though. It’s big enough for a couple of soft bags, but
that doesn’t make it big enough.
