Photos by Lamborghini
Of all the ways to make a dramatic exit, flying off a hairpin bend, in an electric blue hypercar costing ten crore rupees, is probably right up there in top-5 territory. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t the best idea in the world. For one thing, the bend in question was deep in some near-deserted Italian countryside, so my only audience would have been some puzzled squirrels and agitated birds. For another, the chances of Lamborghini becoming very upset and never inviting me to drive one of their cars again were middling to high. At that exact point in time, however, it wasn’t as if I had planned this in advance; it was simply a case of being in an advanced stage of excitement, one that had momentarily overcome common sense.
Allow me to break it down for you. I had finally gotten the chance to drive the Revuelto by myself, without a co-passenger or a lead car controlling the pace. Ostensibly, this was to go out and get some in-car footage with a GoPro; in reality, I just wanted to cut loose from the pack and, well, cut loose with the car (also, the camera guy forgot to switch the GoPro on, as I found out later). The conditions were nigh on perfect — a gloriously hot day, some terrific sections of winding road and a mobile nuclear reactor trying to pass itself off as a car. I jumped into the driver’s seat, by which I mean I contorted myself into a couple of small knots and sort of rolled into it; those scissor doors look like the dog’s wotsits and will get you Instagram eyeballs, but they’re not ideal for actually getting into and out of the car. Still, Lamborghini and practicality aren’t usually to be found sharing a drink, so we’ll set this aside.
Once properly settled into the Comfort seat (the optional Sports seats are a tad too stiff, and they’re manually adjusted), I surveyed the cabin. It’s been a while since I drove an Aventador, but the difference in overall quality was immediately apparent — everything in it looked and felt better. There’s some parts bin raiding in evidence (look out for some Porsche cup holders), but that’s only to be expected; the important thing is that it all comes together very well, and is befitting of a car of this price. I’m not a fan of the tiny infotainment panel, which is a fingerprint magnet and a bit confusing to use, but that’s the price you pay for living in the digital age.
The digital instrument cluster looks great, however, as does the digital display on the passenger side, and there are still some fantastic buttons and switches in here, including the iconic fighter-jet style start/stop button. A big plus is that there’s much more head, elbow and shoulder room now, because 84 mm has been freed up by moving the gearbox to the front of the longitudinally mounted V12 behind your head. There’s even a grippy charging pad for your phone, and space behind the seats for a couple of backpacks/handbags (plus more room in the frunk). Is this the best Lambo cabin of all time (in terms of finish and usability, not drama)? Probably.
All the action is on the steering wheel, which is perfectly sized and great to grip. The massive flappy paddles dominate the setup; this also means that the indicators are operated by a very small and fiddly button on the left. A red dial lets you switch between the four driving modes (city, street, sport and track), and another one operates the nose lift and the suspension settings (refreshingly restricted to ‘soft’ and ‘hard’). When you thumb the starter button, there’s a whole lot of… nothing. The Revuelto is a plug-in hybrid, and by default it starts up in full EV city mode; I’m not sure what good that is except for sneaking out of the neighbourhood without scaring every person in residence there, but there you go. You only have access to 178 bhp here, and EV-only range is a claimed 10 km, so if you (for some absurd reason) want to potter around silently in your V12 Lambo, you can.
‘Eff the silence’ is what I was thinking. You don’t sit in a car that has the Miura, Countach, Diablo, Murcielago and Aventador as ancestors and fly under the radar; no, you turn everything up to 11 and cause as much mayhem as you can. The first step towards this is to turn the red dial to Strada (street), at which point the V12 thunders to life with a suddenness that is genuinely startling, because you go from complete silence to death metal in an instant. Said V12 is a 6.5-litre unit that is a work of art, both literally and metaphorically.
For starters, it’s completely exposed to the elements, with nothing by way of protection; Lamborghini says it’s been sufficiently weather-proofed. It looks so stunning between its buttresses that you can stare at it indefinitely. It’s also all-new, and not just an upgrade over the Aventador’s powerplant — there’s a new cylinder head, higher compression ratio, new pistons and reworked intake/exhaust manifolds. It’s still longitudinally mounted right behind your head, but it’s been turned around 180 degrees, and the 8-speed dual-clutch gearbox is now transversely placed right behind it.
As a result, what used to be the transmission tunnel now houses a 3.8 kWh lithium-ion battery, which powers two motors on the front axle (a third motor is mounted above the gearbox). There’s no mechanical reverse gear any more; instead, it’s an electrical one. The naturally aspirated V12 is the lightest and most powerful one that Lamborghini has ever made, and by itself it belches out 825 bhp at a dizzying 9250 rpm, and 74 kgm at 6750 rpm; the combined power output is a near-insane 1001 bhp. It’s impossible not to admire Lamborghini’s dedication to flat out power and pelf, in an age when these things are frowned upon, and it’s fantastic that they still have the freedom to do so.
With the V12 burbling away and a tap on the paddle shifter, the Revuelto gets moving with surprising grace; none of that irritated, grumpy Aventador behaviour, at any rate — that car hated being driven slowly. Our convoy set out from the gates of the storied factory in Sant’Agata Bolognese, and we were instantly surrounded by every mobile phone in the vicinity, all rapidly using up their storage limits. The initial going was measured, since we first had to exit the small town, and I’m not kidding when I say that the Revuelto was as easy to drive — and well-mannered — as a Volkswagen Polo. Sure, I had to be closely aware of both sides of the car, and the rear view consisted mainly of a large engine, but otherwise it was all stress-free, and a large part of that was down to the smooth new gearbox.
Now, I can already hear you scoffing ‘Isn’t a hybrid a betrayal of everything Lamborghini stands for?’ To you, I say this: relax. The V12 is still there, and it’s still the heart and soul of the car; think of the electric motors both as active participants in the entertainment and as an olive branch, a way to ensure this glorious engine can rage on for a little while longer. And rage it does, as soon as you press the loud pedal — the howl that blasts into the base of your cranium cannot be mistaken for anything other than a whacking great V12 singing at full lung capacity; 100 kph is knocked out of the park in 2.5 seconds, and the experience is simultaneously visceral and… calm; there’s a refinement, a sense of fluidity to everything.
Working through the lightning quick gearbox is no longer the whiplash-inducing rodeo that was the Aventador; you felt every shift so hard with that gearbox that wheel-lock was a bit of a concern, especially in the middle of a corner. The new unit zips through every shift in an urgent manner, leaving you to focus on driving the daylights out of the car; there’s just a touch of a jolt with each shift, and some appropriate explosions, so as not to make the experience sterile. The engine is from another planet; acceleration is ferocious, it revs to 9500 rpm and does this so quickly that it’s very easy to keep bouncing off the limiter (I’m pretty sure Lamborghini could have wrung some more revs out if it). The great thing is that you don’t even need to do this to enjoy the car — there’s a monumental amount of mid range thrust, and it’s a blast to play around in that part of the rev range; the hybrid powertrain really comes into its own here, with the motors working alongside the V12 effortlessly at the lower end of the powerband.
It was this effortlessness that made me drop my guard a little bit, to be honest; with other Lambos, you’re constantly on high alert. I had set off alone, like I said, and I had miles of the near-empty, twisty Italian countryside to explore; I wanted to fully max out this opportunity. Belting downhill, I raced towards a left-handed hair pin corner, and I realised a little too late that I was carrying far too much momentum for it — hence the instant visions of taking flight off that hill. Thankfully, Lamborghini has engineered the Revuelto to a very fine degree, so instead of an aerial display, all that happened were minor adjustments to the light, precise steering wheel; the brilliant torque vectoring system and rear steering did the rest, allowing just a little bit of tail-out before the motors kicked in and slingshotted me safely out of the corner.
The lightness on display was unbelievable, for a car weighing close to 1800 kg the way the motors work the front wheels to keep you in the correct line is sensational, as is the spread of power between all four wheels. Overall traction, and the grip from the massive Bridgestone Potenza Sport tyres (265 up front, 345 at the back on 20 and 21-inch wheels) were suitably immense, as was the bite from the ten-piston carbon-ceramic brakes, which felt even better than the ones on the Huracan Tecnica that I also drove.
Driving a car like the Revuelto truly sets you free, in a couple of ways. The barrage of sensations that fly your way focus your mind on just one thing — driving fast. All other cares, worries and thoughts are expelled from your brain, which is an extremely liberating feeling. The fact that it’s so easy to drive is also liberating — it opens this astounding experience up to many more people (who can afford it), rather than just the cliched hairy-chested, globularly enhanced enthusiast. Its ride quality is excellent too, for a car this low off the ground; Italian B-road surfaces are not that far off those in India, and even in Hard suspension mode, my fillings and spine stayed very much in their assigned spots. It’s calm and composed even in this aspect, heavier than the Aventador yet far more agile, technically more hardcore yet more civilised. And just look at the damn thing — photos absolutely don’t do it justice, and you’ll likely let loose some reverential profanities when you see it in the flesh (as I did).
This is a sensational car, and by far the best Lamborghini I’ve ever driven. You can instantly tell that the firm has thrown everything it has at the Revuelto, in order to give it the halo that it deserves; it’s a stunning middle-ground filler till full electrification befalls us (and I for one will observe a minute’s silence whenever that happens). All the drama, character and flat out insanity of a Lamborghini are present, and they somehow peacefully coexist with levels of nuance, polish and civility that you would definitely not expect in a raging bull. Lambos have gained a reputation for being more show than go, and purists tend to sniff at them and buy Porsches and Ferraris instead; the Revuelto, however, deserves a seat at this table and many more. Is it perfect? Of course not. It’s ridiculously expensive, impractical and about as environmentally friendly as an F-35 Lightning jet fighter (hybrid or no hybrid), but as the carrier of a glorious tradition of V12 anarchy, it doesn’t just hit the spot — it annihilates it.
