Time Out: Jaguar F-Type
Here’s an exercise for you. Ask the person nearest to you what they think of Jaguar cars, see what they say. I can almost guarantee that the person wrinkles their nose and says, ‘It’s an old man’s car.’ The sentence might also include the words ‘pipe’, ‘slippers’ and ‘flat cap’. It’s a shame that a manufacturer with the heritage and prestige of Jaguar ended up with such a reputation, but the bland, tweed-like cars of the early 2000s have gone a long way to tarnish the image of a carmaker that gave us the stunning E-Type and won Le Mans a whopping seven times.
Jaguar has been trying to rebuild its once-great name since the launch of the first XF in 2007—it was a great car in its own right, and testament to the challenge of making a great name great once again. It’s been nine years since the new era of Jaguar was first unveiled, and the struggle continues.
But there’s a cure, and its name is F-Type. Coming with the choice of either a supercharged 3.0-litre V6 or a supercharged 5.0-litre V8, it’s quite possibly the best looking car on sale right now. Ruby red and low slung, our review car is the latter, packing a frankly outrageous 542bhp that’s fed through the fat 20” rear wheels. An AWD version also exists for extra wet-weather stability, but hey, we’re here to have fun, right?
Fun isn’t even the word. It’s the expectation, but it’s underselling the experience by a mile. Simply branding the F-Type as ‘fun’ is like telling someone to watch out for a lion because ‘it’s a bit bitey.’ V6 or V8, when you clip that seatbelt in, you’re strapping yourself into a snorting, spitting monster. A press of the starter button awakens the beast with a bark and a gargle, the active exhaust fully open and practically breathing fire. Give the throttle a tickle and you’re met with the cry of King Kong stubbing his toe, followed by a melee of crackles and pops that reverberate like New Year’s Eve in London. The F-Type’s still in park, and you’re already grinning ear to ear.
And here’s the weird thing: on the road, the car is comfortable, composed and refined. There’s leather everywhere, all the toys you could want, seats that adjust in so many directions they probably cross dimensions, and it’ll even do over 30mpg on a cruise. With the exhaust on the quiet setting and Dynamic Mode off, it’s a supremely pleasant thing to be in, with that famous Jaguar ride that manages to be controlled yet smooth.
Pull the fighter jet-like switch into Dynamic Mode and everything changes. The dials glow red, the steering firms up, the throttle sharpens and the suspension tightens up. Oh, and the traction control takes a chill pill. Second gear, thirty miles-an-hour, pin it and the wheels will spin until you ease off. The traction control is there, keeping you more or less front side forward, but it steps away enough to make you feel like a hero. I’m no driving god (I’m barely a driving mortal), but this thing gives you the confidence to press on without any of those oh-my-god-I’m-going-to-die moments. Think of it as a parent teaching their kid how to ride a bike, running alongside with hands outreached and ready to catch, only ever diving in when the kid veers hard left and straight towards a tree. It’s well-balanced and well-judged for people like me: ham-fisted and unskilled. And that’s what I want. I don’t want to feel like I’m going to get my head bitten off for even thinking about making decent progress. It’s why I’ve never owned a TVR.
I took a friend out in it. It was a bit wet, too much to really put the power down. Even so, his face was a picture. Every time I blipped the car up through a few gears, he giggled maniacally. We were both grinning like fools. That’s what this car does: it makes you enjoy driving. It lacks the precision of Porsche’s offerings, and it’s not as outrageous as a Lamborghini Huracán, but it makes you feel good, excited, itching to get out in it again. You get smiles and thumbs up, people ask you questions, ask to hear it rev. This all sounds ridiculously sentimental, but this is a car that brings people together, gets people talking. It’s great. This top spec V8R is close to £100,000, but the base V6 starts at nearly half that, and what other car can you think of that looks this good, feels this special and costs the same? Old man’s car? That couldn’t be further from the truth.
