Maserati GranSport 2005 Review

The call comes: a $242,500 Maserati GranSport has arrived in Australia. It's based on the 4.2-litre V8 Maserati Coupe, and was born because some dared to call the Coupe soft. So engineers in Modena spent months fine tuning the GranSport's double wishbone suspension for outright performance, finessing everything for maximum on-track attack.

A team of designers cranked up the visual aggression to match the car's heightened potential. A new front-end infused with alloy mesh inserts rolls back through ground-effect side skirts to a lower rear skirt. High-performance Pirelli P-Zero Rossos -- the same tyres fitted to the Ferrari F430 -- adorn convex spoke 19inch alloy rims. A subtle carbon fibre spoiler farewells the trailing edge of the bootlid.

The interior came in for similar-themed enhancements -- not that the 'basic' Coupe isn't sporty, of course. It's a strange mix of 'now' and 'then' where an analogue clock sits dead centre on the bulging leather-wrapped dashboard above a high-tech digital stereo. Big bold numbers adorn the tacho and speedo dials, home to old-fashioned barrel-type tripmeter and odometer. Technical mesh inserts dress up heavily bolstered sports seats fitted with electrical adjustment, and a monstrously huge brake pedal -- as tall as it is wide -- dominates the footwell, suggesting stopping is very important in a car of this performance potential.

Which brings us to the GranSport's engine and transmission. Maserati lowered the manufacturing tolerances on its already highly-tuned 4.2-litre V8 engine, in effect blueprinting components, to unleash another 8kW of power. It may not seem much in isolation, but 400hp (296kW) certainly has a nice, round ring to it. Peak torque remained an impressive 451Nm. The twin-chrome exhaust system scores an electronically-controlled pneumatic valve which controls back-pressure for low-rpm torque, and high-rpm screaming.

There's only one gearbox choice with the GranSport: Maserati's race-derived Cambiocorsa paddle shift. A stubby little T-bar on the transmission tunnel selects reverse or first, and from there it's all paddles -- left for down, right for up. Of course, for those who struggle to find the energy to paddle-shift all the time, the transmission can mimic an automatic if you depress the 'auto' button behind the T-bar.

But it's the buttons ahead of the T-bar that are more fun, like Start, Sport and MSP. The first is obvious, the second unleashes the true beast lurking within, and the third puts mortality in the hands of the driver.

Selecting 'Sport' mode increases the speed and ferocity of gearchanges by up to 35 per cent. It puts the GranSport's active damping system (called SkyHook) into attack mode, removing any attempt at smoothing the road and focusing instead on keeping rubber in contact with bitumen at all possible times.

Our man at Maranello Imports, the affable and genial Herb Appleroth makes the offer. Would CarPoint like to test drive it? Then the dilemma begins. How to say yes without seeming too eager. We're professionals; is twenty minutes long enough to pause before replying? Will the car be offered to another publication if we dither that long? Sure, Herb, we'll test your baby. Grazie.

But first, a quick brochure check to know what we're getting. It's beautiful in a way only the Italians can create. Physical stance is one part, visual dynamism a second, and unfathomable Italian magic an important third.

Crisp, flowing lines cascade generously into voluptuous curves that break your heart from the pages of a glossy brochure. A softly lit cockpit, seemingly laid out by your own loving hand, has every driving control positioned just so. Your eyes close and the key turns as your mind wills it. The starter button depresses at the merest caress of your fingertips.

A subtle but pervading symphony swells into existence, filling your ears and tingling your nerves. Every note intimately conveys the pleasures of birth and the pain of death in the merest instant. It's a multi-layered symphony even Mozart couldn't manage, written just for you.

Without conscious thought your right hand squeezes the paddle against the leather steering wheel. First gear slips home with a slight bang, and you press the brake a little harder in response. The coupe holds, but it's not happy. The tacho blips and bounces, searching for an easy idle but unable to settle. Four hundred horses strain at the bridle beneath your right foot. The stampede is imminent, and inevitable.

That first time you unleash the full power of Maserati's 4.2-litre V8 is without peer. That first time you slam up through the gears; the first time you push deep under brakes; and the first time you test the GranSport's cornering mettle -- is exactly like that other first time in every person's life.

Sure, nerves play a role, and the tension's palpable, but it's as close to perfection as a fallible human being is ever going to come. Think about it; no-one's looking for fault or blemish or mistake. We're lost in the moment, asking -- demanding -- every pleasure this first time with our fantasy can deliver.

We will analyse the hell out of every bump, every hiccup, every peak later. We'll compare the harsh realities of our experience with the silky perfection of our dreams. But for now reality and fantasy are one. Every moment is ecstasy on wheels. All five senses are heightened to extremes, adrenaline magnifying the feedback a hundred-fold.

The GranSport responds, belting hungrily through 8000rpm as the horizon blurs and the exhaust symphony reaches a crescendo. Blip on the paddle and the big Coupe smacks you in the back as second slams home with authority. For the merest instant the horizon merges into focus as the accelerative onslaught pauses for the next gear, then your head slams back against the sports seat and focus becomes a problem, again.

The ton flashes past less than five seconds after it started. You flick into third and the drivetrain smack is not as vicious but we're talking tenths. The Coupe squats and shoots again. Through this hellish show of awesome power your senses nearly shut down from overload. That guttural, booming exhaust note plays soundtrack to whiplash acceleration as the corner is quickly dragged towards you.

Hard on the brakes and callipers bite hungrily into the huge Brembo discs, the Pirellis reach through the bitumen and grab the earth by the balls. The car slows ferociously, washing speed off in an instant.

You tip in, the front end wanders slightly, then bites. The coupe carves gracefully into the corner, pushing wide again as you feed the power on, but again only tenths. The rear-end does it's squatting trick, spitting road out behind as the GranSport melts the tarmac in its wake.

Corner after corner, the moment consumes your every thought. Every experience, every perception, every instant stored for a replay later on the plasma screen of your mind. For now there is no tomorrow, no next week; no problems exist outside your questionable ability to keep the GranSport on that increasingly thin strip of bitumen.

The GranSport is the ultimate inquisitor, testing your faith, probing your weaknesses. Know that this Maserati can show you a good time, but ultimately your skills will limit the experience. And when the well of human ability runs dry, it sits quietly, somehow conveying disappointment that you've run out of talent. Red rag to a bull; Depress the start button again and we go for more.

Eventually, the first time is over. Reality reasserts itself on your consciousness and you pick apart the experience under the harsh neon glare in the examining room of your mind. Imperfections come through and disappointment simmers as, once again, you discover that fantasy and reality can never co-exist.

Like us, you'll walk away from the GranSport perplexed at the strange mixture of old and new. There is no doubt whatsoever of the GranSport's pedigree or performance. It is breathtakingly quick and makes an absolute mockery of corners. Regardless of the driver's aggression on the throttle, the rear-end hunkers down and fires the big coupe out of the corner, exhaust barking a deep baritone soundtrack. Even when you're off the throttle the pleasure keeps coming with a delicious exhaust overrun burble that rumbles and gargles at the edge of hearing.

But is it possible for us to criticise such an incredibly capable performance car? Can one possibly find fault with a fantasy come true? Is the GranSport's steering vague and uncommunicative near the limit of adhesion? Is the exhaust note too boomy and rough at lower revs? Does the body really flex and the doors creak when you're pounding yet another apex into submission?

Why are the electric window toggles out of the driver's reach? Why does the transmission take so long to engage reverse when you're attempting a quick u-turn? Why can't I see the cruise control stalk? Why is there nowhere to put my mobile phone?

Have we been spoilt by the new breed of performance cars? Ten years ago ergonomics was the domain of boring family cars. Today it pervades the design of nearly everything. Ferrari and Maserati resist until the end, but inevitably, they must bow to the niceties needed when you're not howling ten-tenths down the road.

With Maserati that time will come with the arrival of the all-new Coupe in 2007.