Kia Stinger vs McLaren 720S

What's the difference?

The Stinger GT-Line is a great machine. It looks good, feels good to drive and while it's not the cheapest large sedan, it's also not a Camry. With a strong European vibe, it's a nice bridge between boring-dependable and out-of-reach European. Boasting a strong link to Europe in its chassis DNA, it has it all apart, maybe, from the badge.

But Kia has a habit of doing unexpected things and the Stinger was a bold move worth making just for the halo effect of having such a cool car in the range. It has done good things for the company's reputation, as though the rest of the range isn't proof already.

Past McLarens have been accused of being a bit soulless, but this one is alive. The last time I felt like this in a car was a Ferrari F12, one of the scariest but most brilliant cars I've ever driven. Except the 720S isn't scary on the road, just sheer genius.

The 720S doesn't necessarily beat the competition but it opens up new ways of doing supercar things. It's a car that looks amazing, is more than fit for purpose but has a wider range of talents than the others. 

That makes it ever more compelling, both as a piece of automotive brilliance to admire, andl as something to consider when you've got half a Sydney apartment to spend on a car.

Australian roads await, but the drive through rural English country roads and villages was a great preview. All I can say is: gimme one.

The Stinger looks fantastic. I know the car has its detractors, but there's a massive Euro influence here that sits well in my visual cortex. It's maybe not as ooh-aah as the A5 or the outgoing BMW 4 Series Gran Coupe, but the Stinger can and should be mentioned in the same breath. It looks terrific, even if it is a bit fussier in the details.

From the signature grille, the low beltline, big wheels and sports coupe roofline, it looks sleek and sophisticated. 

Inside is a bit more conventional, with some real classic touches such as circular air vents, conventional-looking gear selector and a flat-bottomed steering wheel. It's cool, clean and, with the big new screen, a bit more techy-looking than before. There are lots of nice materials and the odd rogue one, but it's a good cabin that feels well put-together.

The 720S has received mixed reviews but nobody will say it isn't striking. I love it - every designer says their influence is a Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird (designer Melville even jokes about it), but you really can see it in the 720S, especially in the cockpit design, which looks like a glass canopy from that surveillance jet.

McLaren's signature dihedral doors, which go all the way back to the 1994 McLaren F1, are substantial, with a double skin to act as a serious piece of aero kit.

Melville told me in January that he thinks the cars look shaped by nature, using the example of a stone left in a stream to erode. The 720S is full of details evoking that image, with a clean, taut surface. Where everyone complained that the 12C was "designed in a wind tunnel", the 720S looks designed by the wind. In the carbon and aluminium, it looks extraordinary.

One of the most talked about features are those headlights - almost always finished in black, they're known as "the socket". When you get close you see slim LED DRLs, small but powerful headlights, and you then discover two radiators behind them. Follow it through and the air exits through the bumper, around the wheels and then through the door. It's quite something.

Inside is the McLaren we've come to know and love, but with a clever kicker. The dash panel looks lifted from a race car - but with far nicer graphics. Switch to "active" mode, turn everything up to Track and the panel swings down and presents you with a minimised set of instruments to reduce distraction and make up for a lack of head-up display - just speed, get and, revs.

This is really a four-seater car. While there is good legroom in the rear, the falling roofline, small door aperture and huge transmission tunnel box you in a bit, almost rendering the middle seat useless for all but the shortest of folks. You do get your own air vents, though, which is generous.

The low roof also means limited headroom, made a little worse by the standard sunroof. I had room but taller people might brush the headlining. There are two cupholders front and rear for a total of four and each door has a bottle holder.

The boot is a modest-for-this-size 406 litres, rising to 1114 litres with the seats down. Access to the boot is good if not spectacular; the hatch opens wide but a slightly narrow aperture means loading and stowing flat packs and things like that could be a struggle.

For a supercar, there is a surprising amount of space in the cabin. You can strap 220 litres of (hopefully) soft stuff on the rear shelf behind the seats and there's a 150-litre boot under the nose. You can store your track gear under there, including helmet, or even cram in a few soft bags for a weekend away.

Again, unusually a for a supercar, you're also  treated to a couple of storage cubbies in the centre console.

There's plenty of room in cabin for two bodies and the driver's seat offers lots of adjustment. Despite being so close to the front wheels, your feet have space even for my ridiculous duck feet to fit easily. There's even enough headroom for those over six feet, although the glass portholes in the top of dihedral doors might not be so welcome in an Australian summer.

Kicking off at $489,900 plus on roads, it's fairly clear that the car the local operation has in its sights is the Ferrari 488 GTB, which sells for around $20,000 less but rarely arrives with less than $40,000 in options on board. Two further versions of the 720S are available from $515,080, the Luxury and Performance spec levels, both largely cosmetic.

The 720S ships with 19-inch front wheels and 20-inch rears wrapped in Pirelli P-Zeros. The exterior is finished in "dark palladium" trim and the cabin is lined with Alcantara and Nappa leather. Also onboard is a four-speaker stereo, digital dash, dual-zone climate control, sat nav, active LED headlights, power windows, sports fronts seats and not much else.

A predictably lengthy options list includes paint from $0 to $20,700 (McLaren Special Operations, or MSO, will cheerfully find ways to charge you more for that extra special paint job), but most of the list is carbon fibre bits, reversing camera ($2670!), a $9440 Bowers and Wilkins stereo... you get the picture. The sky, or your credit card, is the limit.

The front lift kit is $5540 and totally worth it to protect the underbelly from driveways. Unlike a couple of Italian rivals, it's not mandatory for all speed-bump ascents.

As we discover every time we look at a car like this, the spec seems slim but none of its competitors have much in them, so it's line-ball.

Under the GT-Line's bonnet is Kia's Theta II 2.0-litre four-cylinder turbocharged engine. It's the same as before, with a stout 182kW and 353Nm. Driving the rear wheels is an eight-speed automatic from the Hyundai-Kia empire.

It's pretty rapid, knocking out the 0-100km/h spring in just six seconds, a mere 1.1 seconds slower than its faster sibling's 4.9 for the benchmark.

The 720S runs a 4.0-litre version of McLaren's familiar flat-plane crank twin-turbo V8. Power is up to 537kW (or 720PS, hence the name) and torque up almost 100Nm to 770Nm, from 678. McLaren says 41 percent of the components are new.

A seven-speed twin clutch sends power to the rear wheels and the 1283kg dry (down 106kg from the 650S) monster hits 100km/h in 2.9 seconds, surely a cautious claim. The more alarming 0-200km/h clam is a terrifying 7.8 seconds, half a second quicker than its closest rival, the 488 GTB. That is seriously, insanely quick, while top speed is equally bonkers at 341km/h.

Instead of a complicated and heavy active differential, the 720S uses the rear brakes and various other methods to get the same effect. It's one of several ideas pinched from F1, some of them now banned.

Kia's claimed combined cycle figure is 8.8L/100km. As the Stinger goes without trickery like stop-start or mild hybridness, it's no surprise that my week with it yielded an indicated 10.4L/100km, which isn't bad for a 1750kg sports sedan that was not molly-coddled and also spent some time in a resurgent case of crap traffic in Sydney.

It also drinks standard unleaded, which is a nice touch.

McLaren claims the European combined cycle could return 10.7L/100km, but we have no way of knowing if that is accurate because we weren't mucking about on the day we had the car.

I have driven and loved the Stinger GT. It's tremendous fun, goes like a rat running away from a cut snake, which itself is being chased by a mongoose with its bottom on fire, and it handles like a proper sports sedan.

The GT-Line is obviously not that quick, but it's not slow, either. But it does take a bit of the GT's DNA and delivers a driving experience eerily reminiscent of an E90 BMW 3 Series. That seems like an out-of-date reference, but it was a beautiful car to drive with a lovely balance of ride and handling.

The steering has good feel and you know what's going on underneath the front wheels. You sit towards the centre of the car, also a BMW trademark. Turn the wheel and the car goes with you, despite its bulk, and it's happy to dance a bit with its limited-slip diff.

The 2.0-litre turbo does a good job in most conditions but you feel it coming up short when you're hustling it. It's never breathless, but the torque deficit to the turbo six is clear. If you've not driven the faster Stinger, you may not notice, but there's a touch of lag in the 2.0 that contributes to the idea it's working hard to move the big sedan.

But back off a little and it becomes a fluid, fun drive. In town it's firm but very comfortable, gently bumping rather than crashing into potholes. The rear suspension is a complicated five-link set-up that costs money and eats into boot space but delivers the goods.

Given its length the Stinger is a bit tough to manoeuvre in tight spaces and its 11.2m turning circle isn't too flash either, but you soon get used to it.

One of the biggest changes from 650 to 720 is the new Monocage II carbon fibre tub. The drop in overall weight is partly because the cage now includes the windscreen hoop, which previously was metal. Kerb weight with all fluids and a 90 percent full fuel tank (don't ask why 90 percent, I don't know either) it weighs 1419kg, giving it the same power-to-weight ratio as a Bugatti Veyron. Yikes.

The 720S is an astonishing car. We always say you can pootle in a modern supercar, but the 720S is so user-friendly, maneouvreable and so easy to see out of - there are no significant blind spots with an almost entirely glass roof - you can tackle city and country in comfort mode and actually be comfortable. Comparatively, a Huracan goes all blergh in Strada mode and the 488 GTB never stops begging you to kick it in the guts. The McLaren is easy, liveable and smooth. 

I was driving a left-hand drive car in the UK, which should have been a complete nightmare, but it was fine - the vision is excellent, particularly over the shoulder. 

But when you do decide to kick the 720S into action, it's wild. The acceleration is brutal, the handling impeccable and the ride, oh, the ride. No supercar can handle bumps, irregularities and flat out poor surfaces like the McLaren. The 540C's ride is incredible as it is, but the 720 is just wow.

Because it's quite light, the nose goes where you point it, the huge brakes have less to stop, the towering power less to push. The steering in the 720S is well-weighted but has tons of feel - you know what's going on underneath the double-wishbone sprung front wheels and you can adjust what you're up to accordingly. The stability system is excellent, too. Never overbearing or abrupt, where talent ends and the help begins is delightfully blurry.

The new engine is a bit more tuneful than past McLarens - there's even a loud-start party trick - but it's not loud and overbearing. You'll hear turbos whisting, sighing and pshawing, a deep bassy exhaust note and some awesome intake roar. But there's not much off-throttle character. It does at least do away with the histrionics of the Italians.

The only serious drama is the amount of noise bouncing around the cabin over about 100km/h. There's a lot more glass than sound-soaking Alcantara, which explains some of the extra tyre racket over a 650S. You can't have everything, I guess.

Along with a super-strong carbon tub, to which is fitted aluminium crash structures front and rear, the 720S comes fitted with six airbags, stability and traction controls and carbon ceramic brakes with ABS (100-0 happens in fewer than 30 metres).

Kia's ground-breaking seven year/unlimited kilometre warranty along with roadside assist for the first 12 months. Each time you service your car at Kia, you get an extension on your roadside assist for up to eight years.

Perhaps the only thing that makes you go, "Oh, what?" about the Stinger is the 12 months (Good)/10,000km (Oh...) service intervals. That's pretty common with Kia's turbo engines but is a little inconvenient. Then there's the cost - prices range from $312 to $685, which adds up to $3459 over the first seven services. If you stay under 10,000km/year, that's not bad going at under $500 per year for servicing, but if you're a high-miler, it will add up.

The servicing isn't outrageous - and the prices are capped - but it's not cheap, either.

The 720S comes with McLaren's three-year/unlimited kilometre warranty with roadside assist. McLaren will want to see you every 12 months or 20,000km, which is quite unusual at this level.