Rolls-Royce Cullinan vs Ferrari 812

What's the difference?

The Cullinan might not be the most beautiful or traditional Rolls-Royce, and it’s a shame modern success means providing an SUV option to everyone, but it’s still a remarkable machine, either to drive or just to sit in. It remains not just a marvel of engineering, but a marvellous of engineering. Hats doffed, old bean.

Note: CarsGuide attended this event as a guest of the manufacturer, with travel, accommodation and meals provided.

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.

It is something of an achievement when a team of designers manage to make a facelifted version of a vehicle less ugly, daunting and disappointing than the original.

I thought the first Cullinan, launched five years ago, looked like a London black cab that had been mounted and inseminated by a double-decker bus. Big? Sure? Impressive? Yes. Beautiful? Only if you think Boris Johnson is sexy.

There was a lot of chat at the launch about the changes made for Series II, but in summary they tried to make it look more… like a boat, according to Exterior Design Lead Henry Clarke.

“We don’t look for speedy, overcomplicated lines, we take our inspiration from the luxury world, and it’s often from yachts, it’s that same sense of scale and grandeur, that’s the key to the timelessness of a Rolls-Royce,” he explained.

“We’re not focused on the world of automotive design, and if you look at the Cullinan it has that ethos you think of with a yacht, that strong, vital bow and then everything rearwards, the back of a yacht, has an elegance and grace to it.”

Fair enough, but what I appreciated was that they’ve squared the front end off a bit more, by outlining the grille, adding some gills beneath it and putting in some natty DRLs, and then rounded off the rear a little as well, so that it looks less… awful.

Indeed, after a couple of days of staring at it (and particularly admiring how good it looks in your rear-view mirror when behind you), I did come around to its looks. Certainly a lot more than last time.

And strangers driving past seemed to really like it, because they keep smiling and clapping at me. 

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.

In terms of being a vehicle you might actually use - and keeping in mind that if you can afford one of these you’ve also got at least a half dozen other choices - every day, the Cullinan is the pick of the Rolls-Royce enclosure.

From the big boot space - 600 litres with the seats up, 1930 litres with them down - and its lovely little Viewing Suite, through the spacious rear relaxing zone to the absurdly comfortable and plush front seats, there’s a sense of grandeur about the whole Cullinan experience.

You can opt for a champagne fridge between those rear seats, if you like, or you can just lie back and stare at the blinking pins of light in your 'Starlight Headliner' and imagine that each one of them represents one of your millions, smiling down at you.

It’s a lovely place to be, in short, and with its super-thick double glazed glass, coated with an acoustic layer on top of that, and carpets thick enough to keep out road noise on their own, it’s also a very pleasantly quiet one.

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.

Rolls-Royce has committed to being a fully EV brand by 2030, so it’s a safe bet this Series II Cullinan will be the last one offered with its storming, staunch V12 engine. 

Indeed, Rolls hinted the only reason it hung around in this version is that this is only a mid-life face-lift for the Cullinan, and the car that replaces it will arrive on an entirely new, all-electric platform.

As good as the EV Roller, the Spectre undeniably is, driving this old-school Cullinan with its 6.75-litre twin-turbocharged V12 making the kind of thumping, torque-thick, nothing-is-too-much-trouble acceleration is a hoot.

It’s not loud, but it’s just loud enough that you can enjoy its deep, brassy tones, and it’s got plenty of power in reserve to hurl even this 2.75-tonne machine past lesser vehicles with ease.

There are two Cullinans to choose from, of course, with the base model providing a very pleasant 420kW and 850Nm or the sportier Black Badge version (Rolls calls it the brand’s “alter ego”) with 441kW and 900Nm. 

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.

Rolls-Royce claims the Cullinan will provide you with between 16 litres per 100km and 16.8L/100km, but I believe you’d have to drive it quite steadily to achieve even that quite appalling figure.

Twelve cylinders, 2.75 tonnes, you do the math, but it's interesting to note that with a nearly full tank - and we’re talking 100 litres of fuel - my distance to empty was looking like barely more than 500km - that’s an EV-like number.

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 first word that comes to mind when describing the experience of driving a Rolls-Royce the size of a small housing estate is 'intimidating', because it's one of those cars where you take a few deep breaths before setting off (while muttering “please don’t crash it”) and then some sharp intakes of breath the first few times you find cars coming towards you on a narrow road, of which there are many on Ibiza where we were summoned to drive it.

I followed a panicked young man from India who had never driven a Rolls, nor a left-hand-drive car before, and boy, he sure looked intimidated, even if he didn’t ever get above 30km/h.

The incredible thing about the Cullinan, however, is how quickly it relaxes you and how astonishingly light and easy it is to drive. The steering feels almost absurdly light at first, you really can drive it with just one finger, two if you’re feeling cautious, but once you get used to it it just feels very Rolls-Royce.

The whole brand lives on the idea of effortlessness, wafting over the world, and the much-touted 'Magic Carpet Ride', and it really does deliver that sense of ease. You’re almost as relaxed at the wheel as you are in the rear seat (and the massage functions only make you feel more so). 

Speed humps do upset the Cullinan, but only a very little, and you’re aware when the car finds broken surfaces, but only distantly so. It feels like someone is dealing with bumps and imperfections in a far-off-place, perhaps the car’s basement, and it shouldn’t worry you too much.

When traffic annoys you, you can just make it disappear by engaging your whumping V12 engine and making the world go briefly blurry. 

Attempt to throw the Cullinan through sharp bends at speed, however, and it reacts in much the same way you’d expect the cruise ship it somewhat resembles to.

There’s a bit of body roll, but it’s all quite polite and a sense that if you need to drive like that, perhaps you should go and get one of your other cars.

The Black Badge version does feel just a trifle sportier than the base Cullinan but we’re splitting very grey and expensively coiffed hairs here.

The overall experience is one of grand relaxation, imperiousness and a certain touch of superior glee.

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.

Questions about service intervals and warranties seem to confuse the people at Rolls, as if none of their customers have ever bothered to ask.

Yes, you would think servicing would be free when you’re pushing a $1 million price tag, and that the warranty would be for life, particularly considering the low mileage on these things, but it is, in fact, just a four-year servicing and warranty offer for Australian customers of this vehicle. So that means an unlimited-mileage warranty, including all services, for the first four years (at which point you obviously buy a new one). "Rolls-Royce Motor Cars will offer a service inclusive package but no pricing available yet and this will not be required until the fifth year of ownership."

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.