What's the difference?
Picturing yourself driving a Ferrari is always a pleasant way to waste a few 'when I win Lotto' moments of your life.
It’s fair to assume that most people would imagine themselves in a red one, on a sunny, good-hair day with an almost solar-flare smile on their faces.
The more enthusiastic of us might throw in a race track, like Fiorano, the one pictured here, which surrounds the Ferrari factory at Maranello, and perhaps even specify a famously fabulous model - a 458, a 488, or even an F40.
Imagine the kick in the balls, then, of finally getting to pilot one of these cars and discovering that its badge bears the laziest and most childish name of all - Superfast - and that the public roads you’ll be driving along are covered in snow, ice and a desire to kill you. And it’s snowing, so you can’t see.
It’s a relative kick in the groin, obviously, like being told your Lotto win is only $10 million instead of $15m, but it’s fair to say the prospect of driving the most powerful Ferrari road car ever made (they don’t count La Ferrari, apparently, because it’s a special project) with its mental, 588kW (800hp) V12, was more exciting than the reality.
Memorable, though? Oh yes, as you’d hope a car worth $610,000 would be.
To say the BMW M4 CS is a hot ticket in Australia is something of an understatement.
Consider this. There is an even more expensive one, the M4 CS Edition VR46 – at a cool $346,900 – and it sold out in less than an hour. Now, granted, Australia only got four examples, but still, demand was running hot.
That car makes this one, the regular M4 CS, seem like an absolute steal. It's only $254,900 (yes, the word 'only' is doing a lot of heavy lifting in that sentence), and it shares the same upgrades, and makes the same monstrous power, as the VR46 – for Valentino Rossi’s 46th birthday – only it does it for around $100K less.
See? A bargain. At least, that's how I'd be justifying it to myself if I had a quarter of a million burning a hole in my pocket.
So, this or a Porsche 911? Read on.
Clearly, this is not a car for everyone, and you’d have to question whether it’s a car for anyone, really, but people who like spending $610,000 on Ferraris, and waiting in a queue to do so, will be delighted, because it delivers the kind of exclusivity, and bragging rights, that you’d have to hope a car called Superfast would.
Personally, it’s a little too much, a little too over the top and definitely too mad, but if rockets are your thing, you won’t be disappointed.
Brutal, bruising and utterly brilliant, the M4 CS will be an acquired taste due to its no-compromise approach, but those willing to take the leap will find a performance car like few others at their disposal.
It’s very… big, isn’t it? And it looks even bigger in the flesh with a bonnet you could use to put a roof over your tennis court. In all, the Superfast is 4.6m long, almost 2.0m wide and weighs 1.5 tonnes, so it certainly has presence.
Making something this big look good is a challenge even for those as talented as Ferrari’s design team, but they have nailed it. The front has what appears to be a mouth, poised to swallow lesser cars whole like some whale shark Terminator.
The bonnet appears to be flaring its nostrils, and looks fabulous from the driver’s seat, and the swooping side and taut rear complete things nicely.
Personally, it still just looks too big to be a Ferrari, but then this is not a mid-engined super car, it’s a grand touring rocket ship, and the ultimate expression of unnecessary excess, and it pulls off that aura perfectly.
The M4 CS is familiar in all the right ways, but definitely looks significantly jacked up compared to its lesser siblings.
Part of that is the extensive use of carbon everywhere, from its bonnet panels to its roof, front lip, side skirting and boot spoiler. But also because of its super-muscular angles and creases, including the huge dome in its bonnet.
Also exclusive to this M4 CS is the light treatment, with the front LEDs lighting up with yellow highlights the brand says are supposed to be reminiscent of GT racing cars.
At the back, the rear lights are flush with fibre optic lighting, lending a flowing and unique light signature that looks epic at night.
Inside, it's a sea of carbon, with the lightweight racing seats, the dash inserts and the centre console all lined in it. It is a perfectly finished space, though, and one that's also flecked with red, including a 12 o'clock band on the thick-rimmed steering wheel, the seat backs, the contrast stitching and the paddle shifts.
Be warned, though, it takes some acrobatics to climb into or out of the CS. The seat bottoms have these super high edges that double as grab handles, but require some awkward contortions to navigate.
In short, it looks angry, this M4 CS, inside and out.
Practicality isn’t really your concern when you buy a two-seat mega car like this, so let’s just say it’s about as practical as you would expect it to be. Not very, then.
It all boils down to how you classify practicality in a car like this. I mean, the basic stuff is all there – it's got two doors, four seats and a boot capacity of 440 litres.
It measures 4801mm in length, 1918mm in width and 1399mm in height, and room for front seat riders is good, but less so for anyone you squeeze into the back. There are even ISOFIX points for a child seat.
But if you consider practicality the practical pursuit of performance, then the M4 CS has plenty of perks.
Is it possible that any car - save one made from gold, dusted with diamonds and stuffed with truffles - would represent good value at a price of $610,000? It seems unlikely, but then people who can spend that much assay value differently, and would probably say that something as profound as the 812 Superfast is worth buying at any price.
Another way to look at it is price-per-litre, which is less than $100,000, considering you do get 6.5 litres of V12 Ferrari donk. Or you could go by kilowatt, which works out at nearly $1000 each for your 588kW.
Other than that you do get a lot of leather, a high-quality interior, superior exterior styling, badge-snob value that’s hard to put a price on and vast swathes of F1-derived technology. And a free car cover.
We're talking a $254,900 entry price for the M4 CS, which – despite my attempts at justification – is a lot. Remember, the regular M4 is $168,700, and the M4 Competition is $186,500, so we're talking a sizeable premium here.
BMW justifies that price increase in two ways. The first is scarcity, with the M4 CS limited to just 50 examples in Australia. And the second is by dialling up every aspect of the M4's performance to terrifying levels.
The engine outputs are up, the weight is 20kg down, there are better brakes, better seats, a louder exhaust, a stiffer chassis – it goes on and on.
We'll get to some of the performance stuff in a moment, but here's what else your money buys you with the M4 CS.
It starts outside with staggered alloys, 19-inch up front and 20-inch at the rear, wrapped in track-ready rubber. There's also hi-po 'M Compound' brakes with red calipers, lightweight carbon racing seats that are heated up front, an Alcantara-trimmed steering wheel, the 'M Carbon' exterior package with carbon bonnet and roof, adaptive 'M Suspension' and a titanium exhaust that howls like the winds of hell.
The less performance-focused stuff is similar enough to the other M4 models including a 12.3-inch centre screen with digital radio, Apple CarPlay and Android Auto, a second 14.9-inch screen that handles your driving data and a head-up display. There's also twin-zone climate control, Merino leather upholstery and ambient interior lighting.
But all of that is secondary, really. This is about performance, specifically of the brutal kind.
I did want to give the epic, enormous 6.5-litre naturally aspirated V12 engine a perfect 10 here, but when I paused to think about it I had to admit that it is, quite possibly, a little too powerful.
Yes, it is amazing to think Ferrari can build a car that has 588kW (800 horsepower - hence the 812 nomenclature; 800 horses and 12 cylinders) and doesn’t just dig itself a hole in the road as soon as you put your foot down.
And yes, it does provide the kind of performance that makes all other cars seems a bit piss poor and pathetic, even the really good ones.
But honestly, who could ever use it all, or need it all? They might seem like irrelevant questions, I guess, because it’s all about conspicuous over-excess, a car like this, so really the question is, would anyone want to live with 588kW and 718Nm of torque, or is it just too scary in reality?
Well, a little bit, yes, but Ferrari’s engineers have been wise enough not to actually give you all of that power, all the time. Torque is limited in the first three gears, and maximum mental power is actually only available, in theory, at 8500rpm in seventh gear, at which point you’d be approaching its top speed of 340km/h.
The fact that you can rev an engine this big, and this lusciously loud, all the way to 8500rpm is, however, a joy that would never tire.
In more practical terms, you can run 0-100km/h in 2.9 seconds (although cheaper, less crazy cars can do that, too) or 200km/h in 7.9 (which is a tiny bit slower than the far lighter McLaren 720S).
What you can’t do, of course, is achieve any of those numbers on winter tyres, or roads with snow on them.
BMW has found yet more grunt lurking in its trusty 3.0-litre 'M TwinPower' six-cylinder petrol engine, with the M4 CS now pumping out 405kW and 650Nm.
That's a decent jump from the 390kW and 620Nm served up by the M4 Competition, and a giant leap from the outputs of the 'base' M4 – 353kW and 550Nm.
Predictably, then, the CS is the fastest of the lot, knocking off the run from 0-100km/h in 3.4 seconds, compared to 3.5 and 4.2 in the Competition and M4, respectively. The top speed is also dialled up to 302km/h.
All that power is channeled through an eight-speed automatic and sent to all four wheels on demand, with the help of an 'Active M Differential'.
Much as you can’t have a good volcano without some serious lava, you can’t have 800 horsepower without burning a lot of dead dinosaur goo. The Superfast has a claimed fuel-economy figure of 14.9L/100km, but on our drive the screen just said "Ha!" and we burned through a whole tank of fuel in less than 300km.
Theoretical emissions are 340g/km of CO2.
The M4 CS is fitted with a 59-litre fuel tank, which – given the BMW's official fuel claim of 10.2 litres per hundred kilometres – should deliver a driving range on a full tank of 541 kilometres.
But... BMW also says the regular M4 – you know, the one that makes 52 fewer kilowatts and 55Nm less torque – uses 10.1L/100km, so do with that information what you will.
Insane. It’s a word that people often lift from their lexicon when describing a supercar experience, because clearly, as forms of transport, things like Ferraris and Lamborghinis are not sane options.
But the Superfast really deserves the word, because it feels not only the opposite of sane, but truly bonkers. As if someone built it for a dare, realised it was a bad and possibly dangerous idea, and then put it on sale anyway.
Picture some tiny-handed child with his greasy, post-cheeseburger fingers poised over a big red button on his desk that could wipe out humanity, and that’s basically the situation your right leg finds itself in when driving the Superfast.
There is so much power on tap here - even the limited amount of it that the engineers allow you to access in lower gears - that it truly seems possible you’ll have a Road Runner moment, and simply dig a hole in the ground, if you push the throttle too hard.
Yes, on the one hand, the noises this extreme V12 makes above 5000rpm are memorable and moving, like Satan himself singing Nessun Dorma in a shower of sparks. At one stage we found a long tunnel, perhaps the only dry road within 500km that day, and my colleague forgot all about his licence and let rip.
The numbers on my 'Passenger Screen' spun like poker-machine wheels, then turned red and then implausible. I was shoved back into my seat as if by Thor himself, and I squealed like a small pig, but my co-driver heard nothing over the Monaco tunnel during F1 sound.
Even on dry road, of course, the winter tyres we were forced (by law) to run in the foul snowy conditions could not maintain grip, and we constantly felt the rear skipping sideways. Fortunately we were in Italy, so people simply cheered us on.
The likelihood that you will lose traction in this car is so high that the boffins have included a special feature in its new 'Electronic Power Steering' system called 'Ferrari Power Oversteer'. When you inevitably start going sideways, the steering wheel will apply subtle torque to your hands, 'suggesting' the best way to get the car back in a straight line.
A proud engineer told me that this is basically like having a Ferrari test driver in the car with you, telling you what to do, and that they used their skills to calibrate the system. You can override it, of course, but it sounds scarily like an autonomous-driving precursor to me.
What’s disappointing about this car having EPS at all, rather than a traditional hydraulic system, is that it just doesn’t feel muscular enough for a hairy-handed monster of a car like this.
It is accurate and precise and pointy, of course, and makes driving the Superfast, even in stupidly slippery conditions, almost easy. Almost.
It’s actually surprising how hard you can push a car like this along a windy and wet mountain road without careering off into a muddy field.
More time, and more traction, would have been appreciated, but you can tell it’s the sort of car you’d grow into, and perhaps even feel in control of, after a decade or so together.
So it’s good, yes, and very fast, obviously, but I can’t get past the idea that it’s all a bit unnecessary, and that a 488 GTB is simply, in every single way, a better car.
But as a statement, or a collector’s item, the Ferrari 812 Superfast certainly is one for the history books.
The hardest and angriest M4 of all time is, perhaps unsurprisingly, hard and angry. This is a race track specialist, but because I don't happen to own one of those, my first experience with the barking (and barking mad) M4 CS was navigating my way back from BMW's inner-city dealership.
Like it or lump it, you're going to read some Porsche comparisons here, because you're talking not too far off base 911 Carrera money, and suddenly I find the two Germans doing battle for a spot in my dream garage.
First things first, the BMW won't be much chop for daily driving for most people. Happily, I have a sickness for uncomfortable sports cars. It tells me that no compromises have been made in the pursuit of punishing performance.
A good thing, too, because the BMW, at city speeds, can be punishing. Everything feels heavy, the seats aren't overly comfortable – especially the hard bits that tend to dig in when cornering – and it stiff-arms its way over road imperfections, that exhaust booming and barking as it does.
Again, I loved it, and you probably will, too. But it's still not the kind of car I'd relish sitting in the morning peak hour rush in.
But escape the confines of the city and the BMW M4 CS suddenly makes a whole heap of sense. The acceleration is genuinely brutal, and wonderfully theatrical, with that quad-tipped titanium exhaust barking and snarling as you rocket towards 100km/h.
The steering is brilliant, with feedback fed to your wrists via that thick-rimmed wheel, and the entire experience feels sharp, super engaging and edgy.
You can push the M4 hard and fast, and I'm certain my limited talents would run out far before the BMW's would, but there's this thrilling sense of peril sparked by the aggression of the experience, that I love.
It's like the magic of a roller-coaster, I guess. Even if you know nothing is going to happen, you never really know, right? And in that lies the magic.
But back to original question, this or a Porsche 911? There's no doubt a Carrera is a better all-rounder, in terms of comfy commuting and race track fun, but this angry M4 is all shouty theatrics, all of the time.
I bloody love it.
It might not surprise you to hear that, unlike every other company’s press kits, the Ferrari ones don’t generally include a section on 'safety'. Perhaps because driving something this powerful is inherently unsafe, or possibly because they believe their 'E-Diff 3', 'SCM -E' (magnetorheological suspension control with dual-coil system), 'F1-Traction Control', ESC and so forth will keep you on the road no matter what.
If you do fly off, you’ll have four airbags, and a nose as big as a house forming a crumple zone, to protect you.
Expect no ANCAP rating here, I'm afraid. But the BMW 4 Series does wear a five-star rating from 2019.
The M4 CS gets six airbags (driver and passenger, side airbags, head airbags), along with what BMW calls its 'Driving Assistant Professional', which bundles active cruise control (with stop and go function), front and rear cross-traffic warning, 'Steering & Lane Control' and 'Lane Keeping with Side Collision Warning'.
Once you’ve paid the vast cost of entry, it’s nice to know you will get some stuff for free, like your first seven years of servicing, including all parts and labour, carried out by trained Ferrari technicians, who even dress like pit crew. It’s called 'Genuine Maintenance', and is genuinely Kia-challenging in its scope.