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There are certain cars in this world that exist for a purpose, and others that exist simply to show off. A Ford Fiesta will get you to a supermarket, and it’s perfect for the school run. It's also plenty quick enough to keep up with traffic, but it is also about as exciting as a microwave manual. There are, however, cars designed to be about as practical as using a Formula 1 car to do the school run.
Take Ferrari. Ferraris aren’t cars in the sense that they’re massively practical, well, unless you look at the Ferrari Purosangue, which I suppose you could use for the school run before stopping off at your local Waitrose to buy some truffle-infused artisanal goat's cheese and a bottle of Krug Grande Cuvée. But realistically, most Ferraris are only practical when showing off.
Ferraris are the machines that adorned bedroom walls throughout the 1980s, 90s and 2000s. They’re the sort of car you’d have a Hot Wheels version of, racing around the living room floor, dreaming of what it would be like to drive such a car. A Ferrari is supposed to be exciting and entirely irrational.
Supercars are supposed to be loud, expensive, exotic and only have enough space inside for you and your passenger and their Louis Vuitton bag. They’re designed to stop you mid-conversation when one comes past, making enough noise to give a Ramstein concert a run for its money. Even when a supercar is parked up, you’re guaranteed to see someone staring in through the window and someone else posing for a photo with it. Even when they’re not moving, they still look fast, striking edges, massive spoilers, flared wheel arches and big exhausts. If a supercar were a person, they would enter the room via the window whilst yelling at the top of their lungs whilst wearing a bright red cashmere suit with glittery tassels and immediately become the centre of attention. They’d drink a considerable amount as well.
This brings us to the new Ferrari Luce. Now before you start shouting at me, let's get one thing straight. I like it.
Just in case you've been living under a rock or have absolutely no interest in cars whatsoever, you'll no doubt have heard about the Luce, Ferrari's first fully electric car. On paper, the statistics are suitably Ferrari. It boasts 1,036 horsepower, can sprint from 0-60 mph in just 2.5 seconds and carries a price tag to match, starting at around £474,000.
My issues start, however, with how it looks. The design work was carried out by LoveFrom, a firm led by former Apple design chief Sir Jony Ive. The interior is undeniably beautiful. It's modern, minimalist and exquisitely crafted. But there’s no denying the fact it feels more Silicon Valley and less Maranello. The brushed aluminium, clean surfaces and obsession with simplicity make it look less like the cockpit of an Italian supercar and more a modern electric car, which I suppose is what it is. It is still fantastic, but there’s just a hint of iMac.
Then there’s the exterior which, for all its technological brilliance, simply doesn't have the wow factor. Ferraris look like they've been designed by people who have consumed nothing but espresso and adrenaline for thirty years. They're sharp, dramatic and unapologetically attention-seeking. Even standing still, they look as though they're travelling at Mach 3.
The Luce, however, just doesn't. It feels as though somebody has taken all the Ferrari trademark aggression and sanded the edges off. The bodywork is smoother and softer. Ferrari describes the design as "smooth, continuous and uninterrupted", with a shell-like shape and floating aerodynamic elements. Technically, it's very clever. Aerodynamically, it's extremely impressive. But emotionally, it just doesn’t give me the fizz I get from cars like the F40 or the Enzo. I’m not transfixed by it; I don’t find myself wanting to just stare at it, taking in all the details. It’s still very modern-looking, but there’s just no wow about it. If I saw one in the street, I'd admire it. But I'm not sure what I'd do is stop and think, “Wow, there's a Ferrari.”
There are interesting details in the design, though. The blended glasshouse, the seamless surfaces and the way the windscreen flows into the rest of the body give it an incredibly clean appearance. You can tell a lot of work has gone into the engineering to make it as aerodynamic as possible.
But maybe that’s the issue; it feels more like an electric science project rather than a Ferrari. If I wanted a high-speed science lesson, I’d go for a McLaren. I want a Ferrari because, well, it's a Ferrari. The Luce is a Ferrari without the growl, which is like Laurel without Hardy, or a Sunday roast without any gravy or stuffing, or a rock concert with a noise limiter. There is no question the Luce is a fantastic, well-engineered and very fast car. I’m in no doubt that it’s also incredible to drive, but is it a Ferrari? I’m not so sure.