Ford Puma vs Ferrari 812

What's the difference?

If a minimum price and maximum interior space are your priorities, then the Puma is not for you. Especially so in the flagship ST-Line V, which may seem too small and a tad cramped compared to, say, a Seltos, C-HR or ASX.

Where the Ford excels, typically, is in the way it encourages the keen driver while cosseting four occupants (and a surprising amount of their cargo). There's a poise and maturity to the way the Puma moves that puts it on a par with or even beyond some premium compact SUVs. Even the styling is a statement. If the badges (and dashboard) were covered, you might be convinced this cat is actually a Jag.

If all that is more important, then the ST-Line V is for you. The very antithesis, then, of the unassuming and unloved EcoSport the Puma usurps.

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.

If you search for the 1998 Puma coupe, you'll see some vague similarities with its modern SUV namesake, especially in their anthropomorphic face. It's in the eyes. There are also hints of Aston Martin (DBX), Porsche (Macan) and – let's face it – Mazda (CX-3).

Yet the real achievement lies in the way Ford has managed to make a 4.2-metre-long by 1.8m wide by 1.6m high crossover look so svelte, with the resulting balanced proportions, flowing lines and taut surfacing giving the Puma quite an athletic visual presence. After the EcoSport failure, head-turning looks were deemed paramount.

The extra girth gained by widening the Fiesta's platform allowed Ford's designers to create a muscular body that could also accommodate a metre-wide tailgate opening, while beneath the cargo floor is an exceptionally deep storage box, bringing better-than-expected practicality to boot.

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.

Compact yet spacious, the ST-Line V's interior has strong as well as weak points.

Let's start with the latter. The most obvious connection with the Fiesta is in the Puma's dashboard, which is largely shared between the two. After all the effort expended on the design and chassis, this is somewhat disappointing. There's nothing wrong essentially with the fascia's aesthetics or functionality – it's just that the look is humdrum and dated. What's needed is something with the visual wow factor as found in the latest Peugeot 2008, especially at this price point.

Yet Ford has at least tried to put some tinsel inside this most expensive version of its smallest SUV.

Stitched perforated leather seat facings, carbon-fibre-look trim and soft vinyl coverings in key touchpoint areas bring an upmarket look and feel, backed up by a now-familiar digital instrumentation layout, a lovely flat-bottomed three-spoke steering wheel, easy and intuitive multimedia interface and a wireless phone charger. That electronic cluster, by the way, changes colour and markings but doesn't have the scope of multimedia displays of, say, Audi's Virtual Cockpit. It's comparatively rudimentary.

Conversely, there's a solidity and quietness as well, offering a level of refinement that's usually found in more-premium Euro alternatives. We weren't expecting that, though of course this is a German Ford product.

Our test car also boasted a vast glass opening sunroof, adding to the opulence. With all this gear, the ST-Line V's cabin is properly appealing.

On the practicality front, entry and egress is pretty good, the driving position is excellent (thanks in no small part to a big amount of adjustability for both the steering column and seats), the front cushions themselves are sumptuously enveloping, while wide door pockets and a big glovebox obviously come in useful. And there's a USB-C outlet in the centre cubby between the seats. How modern.

However, rear vision out is poor, there are no seat warmers and some of the lower-lying plastics are a bit drab.

The back seat isn't really suitable for people over 175cm, as kneeroom is limited and taller scalps may scrape the ceiling with the twin-pane sunroof in situ. The latter also means no overhead grab handles.

But the backrest angle and cushions themselves are fine, even for longer journeys. Just don't expect to squeeze a third adult in the back unless rubbing shoulders won't bug you. Note, too, that the rear cushion does not slide or tilt forward to allow for a lower load area when the backrest is folded down. Pity.

There is a receptacle in both doors for small bottles but no cupholders whatsoever (how can Ford call itself an American company?), or face-level air vents – though the large dash vent outputs do reach the rear. Amenities such as USBs and cupholders are AWOL; and vision out from back there is limited by the high shoulder line. Tough if you're trying to peer out. Sorry, Fido.

The Puma's overall compact footprint and rear packaging clearly suggest that this is aimed at singles, couples, or couples with smaller kids/pets to transport around.

Still, for a small SUV, the cargo area isn't bad at all. The standard floor depth is fairly generous, with a long and flat loading area, but below that is a narrower yet deeper waterproof area, while under that again is a space-saver spare wheel. Clever. Also intelligent is the luggage cover that lifts automatically with the tailgate, as per Mazda's CX-5.

For the record, cargo capacity is rated at 410 litres with the 60/40 split-fold rear seats erect – or 1170L with them folded down flat. These figures far outstrip the CX-3.

To sum the cabin experience… it's far-better than its Fiesta-sourced dashboard may suggest, while the ST-Line V treatment goes a long way in helping justify the premium. That's a win.

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.

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.

A multiple international engine-of-the-year winner, the compact and lightweight, 999cc 1.0-litre twin-cam three-cylinder turbo petrol unit is the sole choice for now. Driving the front wheels via a seven-speed dual-clutch transmission (DCT), it delivers 92kW of power and 170Nm of torque.

With no all-wheel drive option, there are instead five driving modes – Normal, Sport, Slippery (for snow) and Trail (gravel) applications, working on the traction, stability and transmission algorithms to mimic some of the benefits of AWD. In the ST-Line V, a set of paddle shifters are fitted in lieu of the sadly-absent manual gearbox.

Owners of the previous-shape Fiesta S and EcoSport would be familiar with the 1.0T's smooth and strident performance, though these 2010s models used a completely different type of DCT. This was the highly-publicised Powershift, which consisted of a dry-clutch system, and was prone to a multitude of problems and failures in the petrol-powered auto versions.

In contrast, the Puma adopts a next-generation transmission dubbed 7DCT300; related to the item found in some smaller Mercedes-Benz, Renault and Nissan models, it instead employs a more-robust wet-clutch system with a higher torque threshold, so promises to be far more durable and reliable than the problematic old dry-clutch unit.

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.

The Puma's official combined average fuel consumption figure is just 5.3 litres per 100km, which works out to 121 grams per kilometre. Fitted with a 42-litre fuel tank, the potential range averages out to almost 800km between refills.

Out in the real world, we managed an exceptional 6.2L/100km, no doubt helped by an ever-eager stop/start system (which, annoyingly, kills the air-con when it extinguishes the engine; we found ourselves constantly pressing that 'off' button as the days wore on). This figure was achieved in motorway-heavy driving scenarios, albeit loaded with holiday gear and with the air-con blaring.

So, we took another, urban-focused test, in lots of slow-moving traffic situations, and averaged a still-solid 8.0L/100km.

Note, that while the Puma requires 95 RON premium unleaded, it's also perfectly happy on – and is even recommended by Ford for – the cheapest petrol currently offered in Australia, 94 RON E10 unleaded. Either way, the ST-Line V is a frugal small SUV.

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.

If the Puma's pricing is complicated, its cabin surprising accommodating and its real-world efficiency particularly parsimonious, then the upward trajectory of pros over cons continues with performance that's downright spirited.

Around town first. A small-displacement engine plus a turbo plus a DCT usually spell interminable spells of lag when all the driver longs for is an instant and measured response to a right foot flexing down onto the throttle.

But the Ford largely sidesteps such pitfalls. Though momentarily hesitant at take-off, the three-pot turbo does then get down to business in no time, with a sustained and satisfying surge of thrust as the revs grow, accompanied by a lusty and raspy thrum that's entirely in keeping with the Puma's track-pants appearance. And it doesn't let up either, with speed building up strongly through the gears, and much more so than the mere 999ccs suggest. Great for overtaking, or taking over a rapidly diminishing gap in the peak-hour derby.

Selecting Sport (a fiddly action that's located too far from the driver for safe eyes-on-the-road operation) lights an even bigger fire in the Puma's belly, with punchier acceleration and a very attentive transmission tune, slicing seamlessly through the seven ratios, leaving you in awe that a heart so small can possess such deep lungs.

Where the Ford really leaves an indelible mark is its enthusiasm to corner just as keenly, armed with brilliantly slick steering and a planted chassis that is set up to both encourage and interact with the driver. Minimal body roll and lots of grip from a quality quartet of Continental tyres ensure the Puma can be punted about like a sporty little hatchback, while the electronic safety tech allowing just enough leeway for lots of fun before they gently reel everything back into line.

We cannot think of a more enjoyable small SUV. And, by the way, those same driver-assist systems provide exceptionally nuanced lane-keep and adaptive cruise-control intervention – certainly they're right up there with the premium SUV brigade.

Given that our Puma wore 215/50R18 rubber, on a 'sports' suspension tune, the ride around town is commendable, with ample cushioning from the rough stuff. There is some tautness to the ride, but it isn't hard or rough; the ST-Line V walks a fine line between urban-agility and surface-decay isolation. In other words, it's commendably relaxing to travel in.

At higher speeds, some road and tyre noises do permeate through inside, and those Dumbo door mirrors do create some wind whoosh, but overall, given how dynamic the chassis is, the Puma feels grown up and sophisticated.

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.

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.

Ford offers the industry-average warranty of five-years/unlimited kilometres. Services intervals are every 12 months or 15,000km.

There is also a capped-price servicing scheme under the 'Ford Service Benefits' banner, with the first four years/60,000km of 'A and B' logbook services pegged at $299 per visit, and then between $320 and $560, for up to 12 years.

There is also a Ford loan car program, SYNC 3 map updates and Motoring Club Membership included during that time frame.

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.