Supercar Review: 2017 Audi R8 V10 Plus
No longer just a pretender in supercar clothing
OVERVIEW
2017 Audi R8
Audi gets serious about this supercar stuff
Pros Screaming V10 engine, sharper handling, serious attitude
Cons With great handling comes great compression damping
Value for money Really, that’s your concern when shopping 610-horsepower supercars?
What would I change? Adjustable seats would make it all a little more palatable
How I would spec it? If I could somehow get adjustable seats in the Plus trim, I’d go for that. Otherwise, the base V10’s 540-horsepower doesn’t sound so bad
Here’s how deadly serious Audi is about boosting the R8’s supercar bona fides: The V10 Plus model, the one just about anyone can buy — as long as you have the requisite $200,000+ — has more horsepower than the LMS — that’s Le Mans Series — racing car it is based on. Yes, pretty much any schmo can walk into an Audi dealership and order up a 610-horsepower version ofIngolstadt’s latest supercar, but the company’s race team — the guys trained for the toughest and highest-speed racing series in the world — is “limited” to 585 ponies.
How about this? It’s no great secret that Lamborghini’s Huracán and the R8 are brothers under the skin, sharing engine, chassis and basic suspension configuration. In previous iterations — that would be the 2007 to 2016 first-generation R8 — however, they were siblings separated at birth, the Lambo always retaining the highest-zoot motor and stiffer suspension, the Audi essentially Danny DeVito to the Huracán’s Arnold Schwarzenegger.
No longer. Those 610 horses? They’re the same as the Huracán LP610’s version of 5.2-litre V10. Ditto for the aluminum and carbon fibre chassis, the Brembo carbon ceramic brakes and even the seven-speed dual clutch transmission (the six-speed manual with its Ferrari-esque “gated” shifter is no longer available). Think now of the R8 as the Huracán’s carbon clone, only without the juvenile exterior styling and narcissistic look-at-me pastel-coloured paint jobs.
Yes, but is it as fast as the Lamborghini?
Oh, most assuredly yes. Indeed, the R8’s personality — at least, the comportment side of it — has completely changed. What was once a little lazy and Playboyish — we oldsters can think of a flouncy-haired Derek Sanderson here; Millennials, Phil Kessel — the R8 is now as serious asAlexander Ovechkin (I suspect neither Boomer nor Millennial needs an introduction here).
That big V10, once long on drama but not nearly as much on actual motivation, is a beast. Compared with the latest batch of turbocharged supercars — Ferrari’s 488, every McLaren, etc. — the 5.2L’s throttle response is crystal meth immediate, there being no lazy turbo lag or wait-till-I-smoke-a-doob hesitation. It screams and right now. Anything above 3,000 rpm — and redline is all the way to 8,700 — pushes the R8 forward like, well, the race car it really is now. Indeed, Audi says a Plus edition — with the stickiest Pirelli tire option — will scoot to 100 km/h in a very supercar-like 3.1 seconds, numbers the very same as Lamborghini’s latest Huracán. Top speed is an equally eye-opening 330 km/h.
But that is only the beginning of the R8’s transformation. The chassis, like the engine, is heart attack serious; gone is the sluggish viscous coupling from the centre differential of the world-famous Quattro all-wheel drive system. In its stead is a quicker-reacting electromagnetic clutch, that speedier response needed because the Audi now directs more of the V10’s torque rearwards, the better for it to emulate rear-wheel-drive agility (while, of course, retaining the safety of AWD). Even the traction nanny — the drive select system, in Audi parlance — is a little more liberal when flipped into its Dry mode, my intended mature 25 laps of Ontario’s Shannonville Motorsport Park compromised by lurid — and horribly juvenile — slides.
Indeed, so much has the new R8’s bias changed towards Italian tail-happiness that Audi seems to have tried to imbue the new version with a little save-the-hamfisted understeer of the original. Unusually, the R8’s 235/35ZR20 Pirellis run at a seriously stiff 49 psi, significantly higher than the rear 305/30ZR20’s 41 psi, the pressure increase meant to decrease front traction and promote a little of that face — and bodywork — saving understeer I mentioned.
Being the evil little auto journalist that I am, I — don’t tell Audi! — “liberated” a little of the excess oxygen that was pumping up the front PZeros and, lo and behold, the front stuck more tenaciously than ever. With the pointy end now firmly planted, it became even easier to fishtail out of the Shannonville’s famed hairpins, so much so that a little uncharacteristic (for me; not the car!) caution was needed in throttle application. Melted rubber is an acceptable byproduct of full-throttle track-testing hijinks; bent bodywork not so much.
That emulation of supercar seriousness pervades the R8’s cabin. For one thing, the steering wheel now has all the performance controlling switchgear — the driving mode selector and traction control systems, not to mention the little button that liberates a few extra decibels from the exhaust system — as well as the start button. It doesn’t evoke quite as much Formula One authenticity as the 488’s Manettino, but it does place all the controls at the driver’s fingertips, which is important.
As well, there’s a little less of the previous car’s over-the-top hedonism to the interior decor. Still constructed with Audi’s acclaimed quality, there’s less bling and more attention to detail; it looks more like a cockpit now and a little less like a boudoir. On the other hand, there are some nifty little practical touches — a repository with two USB ports for cellphone storage, another little binnacle that holds the keyfob — that border on the, God forbid, practical.
That said, there is a downside to this new supercar seriousness. For one thing, the top-of-the-line go-faster Le Mans edition of the R8 comes standard with non-adjustable racing buckets. Oh, they’re all leathered out and quite well padded, but if the seat’s recline doesn’t jibe with your lower lumbars, there’s no altering the seating position. For what it’s worth, they’re the first such non-adjustable seats my lower vertebrae could stand for any extended drive. Nonetheless, give them a test before ordering.
And the R8’s suspension, despite its magnetorheological adjustability, is definitely firmer than before. Indeed, the Plus model’s Magnetic Ride system gets both stiffer springs and dampers. Dynamic mode will rattle the fillings in your grandfather’s teeth, and even the system’s softest mode will jostle you around like a buckboard on a motocross track. With great performance, it would seem, comes greater compression damping.
The other racetrack advantage for the Plus model is it gets a fixed — 13.0:1 — steering ratio for most consistent handling. The base version of the R8, along with adjustable seats, boasts a variable ratio system — varying between 10.0:1 and 17.5:1 — allowing easier parking lot manoeuvring combined with freeway stability.
Nonetheless, it all speaks to a supercar, especially in Plus guise, now serious about actually stimulating the senses, rather than just dressing in supercar clothes.
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