Ferrari 12Cilindri Spider review

The Spider is a fine convertible, let’s establish that right away. The aerodynamic measures crafted to prevent the headwind flapping your ears like a hummingbird’s wings have worked exactingly. You can readily sustain an 80mph cruise top down without going deaf or communicating with your passenger using hand signals. Roof up? You’d never tell it wasn’t a fixed-head coupe.

Speaking of noise, surely it’s a V12 howl paradise?

Losing the roof doesn’t completely solve the mystery of the 12Cilindri’s slightly lacking noise. The V12 isn’t the presence here that it has been in the immediate predecessors. But the good news is you’re exposed to the music that hasn’t been muffled by ever-more stringent exhaust emission filters a little earlier.

In the coupe you really need to be in the upper reaches of the rev range, above 7,000 or ideally 8,000rpm, before the soundtrack gets fruity. In the Spider, pleasing things start happening at about five or six grand.

Roof up, there’s very little clue you’re even in a convertible. It’s extremely refined and feels perfectly rigid – a boon of a folding hard-top locking the structure in place. In fact the Spider has an advantage over the coupe – the more conventional rear window shape and size makes for superior rearward visibility compared to the delta-wing pillars of the coupe.

Does the handling feel compromised?

No. We’ve only tested the Spider on Portuguese roads so far, smoother than any you’ll find on the British network. Hardly the gnarliest workout for the chassis then, but it’s highly unlikely it’ll disintegrate like wet tissue paper when exposed to the B4001. Larger castings throughout the aluminium chassis increase rigidity, while Ferrari’s recycled aluminium gearbox subframe saves 146kg of CO2 per car during production. Nice to know, but what’s chiefly satisfying from the driver’s seat is no meaningful loss in rigidity or performance.

When you see a 12Cilindri in the metal, it’s a long, low imposing clownshoe. You’d be forgiven for thinking that this Daytona-nosed canal boat would be ponderous in corners. But like the coupe, it’s freakishly agile. The Spider uses the same suspension hardware as the coupe with revised tuning, and the third-generation of Ferrari’s once-spikey rear-wheel steering system. The darting turn-in takes some acclimatisation, but once you’re dialled in it’s incredible how much confidence the car gives you. Despite its value, power and dimensions.

Plus thanks to Ferrari’s never-bettered manettino mode switch, you can change the 12Cilindri’s character corner-by-corner, leaving things docile in Wet or Sport mode, or enjoying the sharper responses of Race and the guardian angel ‘side-slip control’ with the traction control dialled back. No other big super-GT meshes such awesome performance with a lack of intimidation factor quite so wholesomely.

Does it still have the soul of a big V12 Ferrari?

While it remains a deeply indulgent experience, there’s no doubt that what Ferrari identifies as a slightly more GT-ish role for the car (now the SF90 is the company’s out-and-out performance flagship) means the 12Cilindri isn’t as absorbing to drive as the 812 was. It doesn’t feel like it needs active aero flaps that raise at 60kph and close at 300kph to keep it on the road (they add 50kg of downforce at 250kph).

The twin-clutch gearbox remains the best in the business for sheer responsiveness, traction is plentiful despite the quantity of poke the rear tyres are having to juggle and feel from the brake-by-wire pedal is frankly perfect – you never need to second-guess stopping distances. But somewhere – likely in that triple-filtered exhaust – some of the trademark F12 and 812 lunacy has been lost.

For even more on how the car performs, check out our full review of the 12Cilindri coupe here.