What's the difference?
Since 1949, Abarth has been giving the venerable Italian brand, Fiat, a patina of performance, based largely on giant-killing feats in small modified cars like the Fiat 600 of the 1960s.
More recently, the brand has been revived to boost the fortunes of the smallest Fiat on sale in Australia. Known formally as the Abarth 595, the tiny hatch packs a bit of a surprise under its distinctive snout.
Yes, this is the car that Ferrari said it would never build. In fact, Ferrari Chief Design Officer, Flavio Manzoni told this very publication (albeit way back in 2015) that "Enzo Ferrari would turn in his grave" should the company ever make something other than a two-door sports car.
But I'd advise you not to get too hung up on all of that. Times change, and the automotive world is a very different place compared to five or 10 years ago.
So, yes, this is the first Ferrari SUV (even if the brand steadfastly refuses to call it one). And it’s the first prancing horse with four doors and four seats.
But it’s also the only SUV on the planet (at least, that I’ve ever heard of) that’s powered by a properly screaming naturally aspirated V12 petrol engine.
So, is this Purosangue the world’s most super SUV, and thus worthy of its iconic badge? Or does it only detract from the brand’s impressive performance legacy?
Let’s go find out, shall we?
It’s tough to be kind to the Abarth 595. Based on a platform that’s more than a decade old, the car has been left behind by its rivals in many ways, including basic ergonomics and its value equation.
The larger engine does work well in this smaller package, and its road-holding ability belies its size. However, only die-hard fans of the Abarth brand will be able to cope with the uncomfortable seating position and a complete lack of even the most perfunctory features that cars costing $10,000 less are able to offer.
Write the Purosangue off as nothing more than another SUV-sized cash grab at your peril. It's not just the easiest-to-live-with Ferrari ever made, but also, and indisputably, an actual Ferrari, regardless of its body shape.
Note: CarsGuide attended this event as a guest of the manufacturer, with travel, accommodation and meals provided.
Despite being based on a design that’s a decade old, the Abarths still stand out. Based on the classic Fiat 500 shape of the 1950 and '60s, it’s more cute than cut-throat, with a narrow track and tall roof giving it a toy-like presence.
The Abarth attempts to beef things up with deep front and rear bumper splitters, go-fast stripes, new headlights and alternate-colour wing mirrors.
The 595 rides on 16-inch rims, while the Competizione runs 17s.
Inside, it’s definitely different to most mainstream cars, with colour-coded plastic panels on the dash and a very upright seating position, along with a dual-tone steering wheel.
It’s a love-it-or-hate-it proposition. There’s no middle ground here.
The word ‘SUV’ is a bit like Voldemort around Maranello — as in, he who shall not be named. And if I’m totally honest, I thought the brand’s refusal to acknowledge what they’ve so obviously made here was just marketing guff to protect its performance heritage.
But seeing the Purosangue in the metal has shifted that view a little. Sure, it will compete with models like the Lamborghini Urus, but it doesn’t exactly look like an SUV, does it?
In fact, and this would likely be another dirty word in Ferrari land, it almost looks more like a hot hatch, what with its short rear overhang, swollen body styling and the positioning of each wheel in the furthest possible corners.
But more than that, the Purosangue looks elegant. Aggressive, sure, but still somehow a little understated. And for mine, that’s a huge tick in the positive column.
Unlike some of its competitors, the Purosangue looks like it was designed by adults, for adults, and not by cordial-addled children.
There’s no active aero at work here, with the airflow instead built into the design. Like the openings at either side of the front end, which channel air past the front tyres, or the positioning of the rear spoiler, which pushes air down over the rear windscreen so effectively there's apparently no need for a rear windscreen wiper.
Traditionally, interiors have not been Ferrari’s strongest suit, but the Purosangue is a comfortable and premium space to spend time, and the seats and the steering wheel especially, look fantastic.
The tech, though, isn’t perfect. Some of it (like the haptic Engine Start button) is an awesome addition, but while the twin screens for driver and passenger look good, the technology is a little clunky, and simply not as smooth as using a single, centrally mounted screen.
This is another area where the Abarth falls down. First and foremost, the seating position for the driver in both cars is utterly compromised.
The seat itself is mounted far, far, too high, and has little adjustment in any direction, and there is no reach adjustment in the steering wheel column to allow a taller (or even an average height) driver to get comfortable.
The more expensive Competizione we tested was fitted with a set of optional sports bucket seats from racing company Sabelt, but even they are mounted literally 10cm too high. They are also ultra firm, and even though they look supportive, lack decent side bolster support.
The tiny multimedia screen is okay to use, but the buttons are miniscule, while there’s a complete lack of storage places in the front.
There are two cupholders under the centre console, with two more in between the front seats for rear seat passengers. There are no bottle holders in the doors and no storage for rear seaters.
Speaking of the rear seats, they are the very definition of cramped, with little headroom for moderately sized adults and precious little knee or toe room. There are two sets of ISOFIX baby seat mounting points, though, should you fancy wrestling your wriggling toddlers through the narrow aperture.
The seats flip forward to reveal more cargo space (185 litres with the seats up, and 550 litres when the seats are down), but the seat backs don’t fold flat into the floor. Under the boot floor is a can of sealant and a pump, but no space saver spare.
In truth, it was a long day testing this car… at 187cm, I simply could not get comfortable in it at all.
Not the kind of thing you’d normally care about in a Ferrari review, I know, but then this isn’t a normal Ferrari.
So, let’s focus on the back seat for a moment. The Purosangue is a strict four seater. Asked why not just install a bench backseat for more family-friendly practicality, the brand had a quality answer locked and loaded.
The reason, it says, is because a car in this price bracket needs to instil a sense of dignity in every seat, and by installing three across the back row, you don’t just ruin the middle seat, but the two window seats as well, because then everyone is uncomfortable.
It make sense, right? Even if I still harbour suspicions that, by installing just the four seats in the Purosangue, it moves it just a little further from that dreaded SUV tag.
Either way, there is more space in the rear of the Purosangue than you might expect by looking at it. Each rear seat rider can stretch out, with more than enough head and legroom.
And while there, they can access their seat functions and climate control settings through a nifty pop-up rotary dial (front seat riders get one, too).
The rear doors open automatically with a long pull on a lever at the base of the window. Ferrari says the rear-hinged doors serve two purposes, the first being that they allow easier access to the rear seats, and the second being that they look much cooler than regular, boring doors.
The engineers, though, concede making them a reality was a nightmare, with the brand replacing three fastening points with a single massive hinge that emerges from the rear of the body.
There’s more practicality on offer here, too, courtesy of a 473-litre boot space (and more if you flatten the back seats), with a flat load space, and hidden storage beneath it.
The Purosangue measures in at 4973mm in length, 1589mm in height, and 2028mm in width, and it rides on a new spaceframe chassis bespoke to this model.
The range has been stripped back to just two cars, and costs has come down slightly, with the 595 now starting at $26,990, plus on-road costs.
A new 5.0-inch touchscreen multimedia system (with digital radio), a leather wrapped steering wheel, TFT dash display, rear parking sensors, alloy pedals, 16-inch alloy rims, and (front-only) adaptive dampers are standard on the base 595.
A convertible, or more accurately, a rag-top (cabriolet) version of the 595 is also available for $29,990.
The 595 Competizione is now a whopping $8010 cheaper at $31,990 with a manual gearbox, leather seats (Sabelt-branded sports buckets are optional), 17-inch alloys, a louder Monza exhaust, as well as front and rear adaptive Koni shocks, and Eibach springs.
Unfortunately, what stands out more on the Abarths is what they don’t come with. Auto lights and wipers, cruise control of any sort, driver aids including AEB and adaptive cruise… even a rear view camera is missing.
What’s more puzzling is that the Abarth’s architecture, though a decade old, has provision to accept at least a rear view camera.
Abarth’s explanation that the car’s home market doesn’t see these inclusions as important doesn’t really hold water, either.
In terms of value, the lack of basic content sends the Abarth to the bottom of a competitive pile that includes both the Ford Fiesta ST and the Volkswagen Polo GTI.
How much the Purosangue actually costs is something a moot point. Officially, it starts at $728,000, before all your on-road costs.
But Ferrari says every Purosangue will go through its personalisation, 'Atelier' or 'Tailor Made' programs, meaning no two vehicles will be exactly alike, adding significant cost to the sticker price.
But perhaps the biggest issue is that you can’t actually buy one. Ferrari paused orders globally in November last year as it realised its factory capacity had been exhausted by demand.
Right now, all it can say is that, should you want one, you should speak to your dealer, while warning that average global wait times are in excess of 18 months.
Further complicating matters is the fact the brand has issued a production cap on the Purosangue, with the SUV not to exceed 20 percent of Ferrari’s total production volume.
The idea is two-fold. One, Ferrari’s production capacity is limited, and so freeing up space on a factory line isn’t easy. And two, unlike its Italian competition, Ferrari wants to remain Ferrari, not the Purosangue company.
So, this newcomer will produce incremental growth without dominating the entire line-up.
The brand is holding triple-figure orders and expressions of interest in Australia, and though it’s not sure how many cars we’ll actually get, they will begin arriving before the end of the year.
Ferrari in Australia is also yet to confirm exactly what local customers will get, but standard fare internationally includes 22-inch (front) and 23-inch (rear) alloys, leather-and-Alcantara seating (now made from 68 percent recycled materials) in both rows, twin screens (one in the instrument cluster for the driver, and another mounted in the dash directly in front of the passenger), standard Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, a 21-speaker Burmester stereo, automatic-opening rear doors and an automatic boot, seat and steering wheel heating, and an in-seat massage function.
You also get an engine that could power a small city, but let’s circle back to that, shall we?
The Abarth 595 pair use the same 1.4-litre 'MultiJet' four-cylinder turbo engine in differing states of tune. The base car makes 107kW/206Nm, while the Competizione makes 132kW/250Nm, thanks to a freer-flowing exhaust, a larger Garrett-branded turbocharger and an ECU re-tune.
The base car can do 0-100km/h in 7.8 seconds, while the Competizione is 1.2 seconds quicker; the optional 'Dualogic' automatic is 0.2sec slower to the mark in both cars.
A five-speed manual gearbox is standard, and neither car is fitted with a limited slip diff.
Nothing but Ferrari’s best here, with a mid-front mounted V12 engine providing the power, and plenty of rapid forward momentum.
This naturally aspirated 6.5-litre monster produces a total 533kW at 7750rpm and 716Nm at 6250rpm – and climbs to a screaming 8250rpm.
It channels that power to all four wheels via an eight-speed dual-clutch automatic, and a compact and front-mounted power transfer unit that calls the front tyres into action.
It’s a clever solution that allows the Purosangue the grip of all-wheel drive when you’re in fourth gear or below, reverting to rear-wheel-drive at higher speeds.
The reasoning is that you get the lower-speed grip without requiring a heaver permanent AWD solution.
There are more clever things at play here, too. Like a new 'Active Suspension' system that replaces the need for anti-roll bars with motorised adaptive dampers.
Each corner has an electric actuator that can then individually stiffen or soften the suspension as required to keep the Purosangue flat when cornering, or supple on bad road surfaces.
You can also lift or lower the ride height slightly, including for launch control which flatness the Purosangue for maximum aero slipperiness.
Over 150km of testing, the Competizione consumed a dash-indicated 8.7 litres per 100km, against a claimed combined fuel economy figure of 6.0L/100km. Our brief test of the 595 revealed a similar number, against the same claimed figure.
The Abarth will only accept 95 octane fuel or better, and its small 35-litre tank is good for a theoretical 583km between fills.
If there’s a fly in this Ferrari’s ointment, we’ve found it. Big V12 engines mean big fuel use, and the Purosangue will require a claimed 17.3L/100km on the combined cycle.
Be warned, though, the Ferrari’s accelerator calls to your right foot like a siren song luring sailors to the rocks, and should you get aggressive with it, I’d suspect your fuel figures to be even higher.
The C02 emissions are pegged at 393g/km.
You might expect a lower score than seven for this section, and I take your point. But for mine, you're buying a vehicle with a huge V12 engine, so you probably know what you're in for, right?
Ergonomics aside, the combination of torquey engine and lightweight car is always a good one, and the 1.4-litre turbocharged four is a good match with the front-drive Abarth.
There’s always enough mid-range urge to give the Abarth the hurry-up, and the longer-legged five-speed gearbox is a good match for the engine.
It also grips and turns surprisingly well, despite the Sport button adding too much artificial weight to the Abarth’s steering feel.
That same button also firms up the front dampers on the 595 and all four on the Competizione, which works well on smoother terrain, but stiffens it too much over more undulating surfaces.
Around town it can be hard to strike a good balance between ride and comfort. The difference between soft and firm is much more pronounced in the Competizione, but it will still get tiring if your commute is a bumpy one.
The turning circle, by the by, is ridiculously large for such a small car, making u-turns - already compromised by the lower front bumper - unnecessarily fraught.
The Monza exhaust on the Competizione gives it a bit more presence, but it could easily be louder (or at least more crackly) again; you’re not buying this car to be a wallflower, after all.
There’s a reason most supercars aren’t daily drivers, and it’s not always just a financial one.
It’s because they’re the most specialist tools in the automotive toolbox, usually engineered to attack race tracks and alpine roads, but not the school run or bumper-to-bumper traffic.
But you put up with it — the too-firm ride, the questionable ergonomics — because when you do land upon the kind of road your car was built for, any other inconvenience vanishes like traces of smoke from a chimney.
Which is exactly what makes the Purosangue such an interesting proposition, because here is a Ferrari that will likely be driven more, and for longer spells, than any Ferrari to have come before it, but it still needs to excite the senses on the right road.
So has Ferrari pulled it off? In a word, yes.
Honestly, when you’re just tootling around it’s easy to forget you’re driving a supercar.
That V12 engine falls silent, the exhaust is almost non-existent (owing largely to the sound deadening of the cabin – to really hear this beast at full roar you want to crack a window, or find a tunnel), and the suspension (each driving mode has two suspension settings, medium and soft, allowing for some serious fine-tuning of the ride comfort) floats across most road surfaces.
It feels much like any other premium SUV, and not one with a nuclear power plant lurking just ahead of the dashboard.
Because there is a Hyde to this Jekyll, and it arrives when you dial up the sportiness, or get a little too heavy with the accelerator. Then that big V12 roars into life, along with the exhaust, and suddenly you’re very much behind the wheel of Ferrari once again.
Engage launch control and you can feel the Purosangue hunker down, dropping lower onto the wheels and readying for action. Flatten your right foot, and 100km/h arrives in a claimed 3.3 seconds, with 200km/h flashing by in 10.6 seconds.
But there is a quirk here, and that is that the Purosangue doesn’t always feel blisteringly fast. It's powerful, sure, and plenty quick, too, it's just that somehow it doesn't always feel quite as fast as the spec sheet suggests.
Maybe it’s the theatre, or all in my mind, but I reckon the best way to experience the all-out performance is by taking over the gearing yourself, and listening to the machine-gun-popping of the rev limiter before squeezing the paddle shifter, to truly feel like you're unlocking every ounce of performance on offer.
Is it the sharpest Ferrari ever built? Obviously not, and even a carbon-fibre roof can’t compensate for the over 2.0-tonne weight here.
But I promise, should you find yourself on a twisting road, the Purosangue can paint a supercar-sized smile on your face just the same.
The steering isn't quite as sharp as it might be in a true supercar (I suspect its been softened to make the Purosangue more comfortable on freeways and over longer distances), but it still inspires plenty of confidence, while the the rear-wheel-steering helps tuck you nearly into corners before that big engine drags you out the other side, that operatic exhaust bellowing along with you.
A real Ferrari? You bet.
Despite a lack of electronic safety aids – and, somewhat amazingly in the current age, a rear-view camera – the Fiat 500 that forms the Abarth's basis still carries the maximum five-star rating from ANCAP it was awarded in 2008, by dint of its seven airbags and bodyshell strength.
It wouldn’t have the same luck if it were judged under new ANCAP regs coming into force in 2018, though.
The Ferrari Purosangue has not, and surely will not, be independently crash tested, but does arrive with a pretty stacked suit of safety kit, including AEB, adaptive cruise control, lane keeping assist, blind-spot monitoring, rear cross-traffic alert, traffic sign recognition and hill descent control.
A three-year/150,000km warranty is offered as standard on the Abarth 595 range, with a suggested service interval of 12 months or 15,000km.
Abarth importer Fiat Chrysler Automobiles Australia offers three fixed-priced services for the 595 range at 15,000, 30,000 and 45,000km, with the first costing $275.06, the second $721.03 and the third $275.06.
Every Ferrari arrives with a three-year, unlimited kilometre warranty, with the option of extending coverage for up to seven years at the point of purchase.
Also available is Ferrari's 'Power20' coverage, which covers the engine, gearbox, transmission and all other major mechanical and electronic components for 20 years from the point of purchase.
The recommended service interval is 12 months/20,000km, and there's also a seven-year capped-price servicing program, called '7-Year Genuine Maintenance', which allows you to prepay for all your servicing needs.