Pretension can hardly get any higher than the Lamborghini:
* Huracán: (OOH-rah-cahn) — Spanish, not Italian, for hurricane; inspired by a Spanish bull.
* LP: Longitudinale Posteriore — a longitudinal engine sitting behind its transmission.
* 610: Technically 602 HP @ 8,250 RPM, but who’s counting?
* -4: All-wheel drive.
This says New Money. It says R&B One Hit Wonder. It says Bling. It’s boulevard, not track; it’s 19-year-old trust fund baby. All this, with Audi-manufactured reliability surpassing Lambos of yore.
And it’s positively the fastest car I have ever driven.
I took it over two days on the Pacific Coast Highway from LA to SF: through Santa Barbara, San Luis Obispo, Hearst Castle, Monterey, and Santa Cruz. I drove it mostly in Sport mode with windows down, alternating between manual shifting and sport auto. It has been the definitive driving experience of my life.
But there’s no way I’d buy one. More below.
[Background: I’ve owned a 2006 Honda S2000, 1998 Lamborghini Diablo SV, and 2013 Porsche Boxster S. I’ve driven a McLaren 12C, Porsche 911 Carrera S Cabriolet, Ferrari 458 Italia, and Toyota GT86. I’ve done a 4-day driving event at Bondurant, a bit of autocross, several stunt driving courses, and multiple track days at Silverstone. I’m a casual driving enthusiast with an interest in performance vehicles, but am by no means professional. My reviews will focus on pragmatic everyday concerns about cars, since professionals already amply cover performance and driving characteristics in their reviews.]
ENGINE
At only 3,135 lbs dry, the Huracan’s 602 hp launches it from 0–60 in what Autoblog timed at 2.5 seconds (faster than the 3.2 official time, and faster than the Aventador). This is fairly believable, given the Ferrari 458 Italia weighs 140 lbs more dry, has 40 less hp, and claims 3.0 seconds. Regardless, the propulsion in this car is like nothing I have ever driven, easily beating the McLaren 12C, Ferrari 458 Italia, and certainly the Lamborghini Diablo SV I used to own. The power is absolutely astounding, packed into an incredibly lightweight car. Going from 60–120 at Huracan pace is something I expect I’ll likely not experience many more times in my life.
When driving on highway, the engine drones on and on, with all its high-pitched mechanical whirrings and happenings. It’s like a thousand metal grasshoppers’ wings fluttering all the time, completely unlike the Diablo’s bass rumble or Ferrari’s ferocious scream. These sounds became grating even after 30 minutes of highway cruising.
But drive aggressively, with the windows down and a few choice Highway 1 tunnels in your path, and you’ll be treated to spine-tingling crackles and burbles as the engine overruns on every downshift. Its symphony resembled that of a Jaguar F-Type V8S: a constant, pleasing mechanical orchestra urging you to brake hard into each coming corner.
DRIVE
Everyone, it seems, needs a fancy name for switchable drive modes. Lamborghini’s steering-mounted drive controls are called ANIMA (both Italian for “soul,” as well as — and here I must insist you brace yourself for some muscle-straining eye-rolling — Adaptive Network Intelligent MAnagement). It varies from Strada through Sport to Corsa. Sport gives the best balance of aggressive shifting coupled with much-needed stability control.
And I say “much-needed” because the Huracan understeers. When driving 8/10ths, it feels planted and ready for more cornering. As you push it into a corner, you can feel the suspension set; at that point, you can push it even harder and feel the all-wheel-drive magic literally pulling you out of the corner like the car had claws on the road.
The transmission is shifted via metal shifters (seemingly fairly rare, even in high-end cars), though its edges are somewhat sharpish. You get used to that minor irritation, though I’m not sure why they chose that design. Furthermore, the paddles are column-mounted, not wheel mounted, much like a Ferrari’s. I don’t think I’ll ever understand the logic behind column-mounted paddles, as it makes shifting difficult when the wheel is sharply turned. (I’m sure driving purists amongst us would say that you should never shift mid-corner — and I’m sure that’s true and all — but it’s still no excuse to column-mount the shifters. It’s gratuitously bad design.)
Downshifting is fast and raucous, witnessed by the beautiful all-digital tachometer in the dash. The car has a great aggressive steering ratio, allowing you to navigate even hairpins with both hands still on the wheel at the 9- and 3-o’clock positions. Its standard carbon-ceramic brakes were surprisingly easy to deal with, never rough on initial bite.
RIDE
The Huracan politely rumbles softly in Strada and handles all bumps without issue. Sport feels equally comfortable — I rode hours in Sport without feeling any jolts I minded. The seats are very comfortable with great side-support, with a design reminiscent of an Audi S5's (most surely not by coincidence, given Audi owns Lamborghini). The hip supports, however, feel too tight on long trips, even for my 5'10" 170-lb frame.
You frequently need to use the front suspension lift kit, given the Huracan’s long front overhang and low ride. However, even with the lift kit fully engaged, you will still sometimes scrape the front bumper; this was true even of the Diablo, and apparently is something that Lamborghini simply intends not to fix for its owners.
FINISH AND INTERIOR
Beauty in this case is definitely in the eye of the beholder. The Huracan, in my opinion, is not as beautiful as a Diablo SV, 458 Italia, or an Aventador. But it does look much better in person than in photos, as it’s quite wide and low, and is also smaller than all the glossy photos on the web would have you believe. However, it still looks like a chubby car to me, especially in the front. It does not have the svelte, fit look of a Ferrari 458. And it’s definitely less noticed than the 458 and the Diablo SV, though more so than a McLaren 12C.
Design-wise, you can’t fault the Huracan’s designers for inconsistency. Its hexagonal theme runs throughout, nearly to the point of caricature: hex mirrors, a hex start/stop button (with its red missile-firing Airwolf-style cover), and hex console extras. Even its exterior door handles are hexagonal, popping out like popsicles — a fun gimmick.
The interior is mostly Alcantara and leather, though I’m sure a decade from now everyone will regret Alcantara (as it tends to pill and wear just like old sweaters). Surprisingly and disappointingly, the cabin is full of plastics: door handles, door grips, steering wheel spurs, and the four huge vent covers are all plastic. The airbag cover on the steering wheel is rubberized fake leather, just like Chevy Impalas or Pontiac Grand Ams. Cheapness abounds.
The all-digital dash display is fun. Even the nav is built entirely into the driver dash, which I hope becomes a trend for all future cars. The tach is big, though the speed is smaller and digital only. It amusingly displays a leading zero whenever you’re under 100 mph, as a reminder to you of why you really purchased the car. As a tech guy, I’m shocked they didn’t even kern the fonts correctly or do sub-pixel rendering; letters have two-pixel-wide strokes in some parts and one-pixel-wide strokes in others, as if EGA and Kings Quest was happening all over again.
PRACTICALITY
This is not a practical car. This is a car to pick up Rihanna on your way to the VMA’s.
The trunk is barely wide enough for a carry-on, and is much, much smaller than a 458's or a Diablo SV’s. There are no cupholders; the console storage area is the thickness of a deck of cards; the glove compartment fits a thin-profile box of tissues. This is a car that assumes your butler Alfred is following behind with your stuff. There’s not even much space behind the seats to speak of.
The console controls / MMI are a bit counter-intuitive. Its scroll wheel goes the wrong direction from whatever you think it should. Navigating the displays takes a bit of exploration, and assumes that you of course don’t have better things to do (you’re retired! you’re posing in your Huracan!). But all said, it’s still better and easier than the McLaren 12C’s.
Rearward visibility beats the Diablo’s and the 12C’s, owing to its lack of engine-lid sidewalls. The side mirrors are large, and certainly enough if properly adjusted. Even its front / side / a-pillar visibility is great.
The steering-mounted controls are patently ridiculous, starting with its steering-mounted side-swiping turn signal. You use your thumb, contorted downwards from the ideal driving position, to push the harsh-clicking signal to the left or to the right. There is no lane-change mode — you must manually cancel the signal every time. And how, pray tell, do you cancel the signal? You push the side-swiping tab inward. This entire setup was wholly uncomfortable: my thumb is red and swollen from signaling; worse yet, you must take your left hand off the wheel every time you signal, lest you sprain something. A Ferrari 458's toy-like signal buttons are a joke — but at least they’re an ergonomic one. The Huracan’s signal seems designed to offend, as a sort of secret middle-finger to all its buyers.
You might ask yourself what’s mounted on the wheel opposite The Awesome Turn Clicker™. Could it be volume? Perhaps Bluetooth phone capabilities for the wealthy socialite? No, no — nothing even mildly that useful. No, the controls on the right side of the wheel are _wipers_. That’s right. In case you need to, really quickly, change the wiper speed of your 600+ horsepower beast.
There’s no standard USB port or stereo input hole. You need a custom adapter (which no doubt costs an arm and a leg).
There’s also no cruise control. And before you purists pounce by saying cruise control is unnecessary on sports cars, I beg to differ. Especially on a Lambo, which is mostly meant to pose. My right shin and calf are catatonically locked after driving ~10 hrs per day this weekend. For a car this price, there is simply no excuse for lacking cruise control.
And hey — the passenger window doesn’t roll itself up with a firm pull on the switch. Unlike pretty much every car beyond $30k. The driver’s side does… just not the passenger’s. These sorts of niggles pervade the car. I’d be positively furious if I had actually purchased it.
OVERALL
Being a former Lambo owner, I expected to come out of this weekend ready to put a deposit down on the Huracan. It’s the fastest car I have ever driven. It’s much better built than the Diablo SV. It’s probably daily-drivable.
But I find I have no desire to own one at all — just at all.
It feels cheap, especially for a car that otherwise lists above $242k. It shortchanges you on a bunch of things that cheaper cars include as standard. And it’s not remarkable on any dimension other than speed. Its looks are subjective, but IMO inferior to many other cars. Ultimately, I suspect little things about it would make me angry all the time.
But boy can you blast down the countryside like nothing else. My Moment of Zen™: while flooring the pedal from 40 to 120 mph, my jacket, which had been laying in a pile in the passenger seat, slowly floated up, arms free like a zombie in zero gravity, and pressed itself against the back of the seat. For some, this astounding parlor trick, repeatable time after blasting time, might alone be worth the price of admission.
