TG's hyper GT of 2021: Pininfarina Battista takes on Miami

The Pininfarina Battista is the future of really, really fast things. It’s the sister car to the Rimac Nevera, so based around the same powertrain technology, electrical architecture and carbon core, tweaked to Pininfarina’s specifications then draped in a body and interior of its own design. Despite being Italy’s most famous styling house and owner of a back catalogue that stretches back 91 years and includes slam dunks such as the Ferrari F40 and Cisitalia 202, this is the first road car to ever wear the Pininfarina badge... and the most powerful Italian car ever made.

Photography: Rowan Horncastle

Although mooching around between the art deco buildings on Ocean Drive and the murals in Wynwood might actually play to the Battista’s strengths. While the Rimac Nevera is the physical representation of Mate Rimac’s intellect – a shrine to technology in all its geeky glory, Pininfarina is trying to push an idea of old school luxury and design. There’s an outrageous surplus of performance, sure, but it’s all wrapped in a classically beautiful carbon-fibre shell, uses the world’s finest materials and comes with endless customisation options that mean each of the 150-car run will be unique. Somebody in Pininfarina’s press department deployed The Maths and calculated that “the total number of possible individual designs stretched to 13.9 quintillion”. I have no idea how many that is because I ran out of fingers, but it sounds like a lot.

Have I mentioned this is an all-electric hyper GT? No queuing for £20 of fuel in this £2m slice of carbon and lithium, you simply top up via the optional (Pininfarina-designed and colour coded to your car) Residenza wallbox in your enormous garage and go about your day. Pininfarina claims a range of 310 miles (500km) on a charge if you drive like a learner, which you won’t, courtesy of a 120kWh T-shaped battery that sits down the spine of the car and wraps around behind the seats.

Range isn’t really an issue as we scythe the few miles from downtown, across the MacArthur Causeway, past a line of CO2 belching cruise ships and weave our way around roadworks and well-lubricated holidaymakers next to Miami Beach. Fortunately, driving the Battista at low speeds is perfectly straightforward. If I was in a Porsche Carrera GT or McLaren F1, there would be finely honed mechanical bits and hair trigger clutches to nurse, but not here. The ride, while not exactly plush, is comfortable enough to use every day. The dual single-speed gearboxes (one for each axle), the sedate throttle mapping in the gentler driving modes, the regen braking (strong enough to one-pedal it around town)... it’s like driving a very low, very wide Tesla. Quiet too, apart from the artificially generated soundtrack.

Yep, the Battista still makes sound, pumping it out through two external speakers – one at the front and one at the back – and via the internal 12-speaker sound system. And get this – the sound increases in increments of 54Hz, because that’s a multiple of 432Hz, which is considered the purest frequency in the universe. Utter marketing toss or actual value to the customer? You decide. What I can report is it sounds... interesting, like the car’s breathing, or throbbing. It’s particularly pronounced when you switch it on in a garage and the bassy pulse bounces off the walls. It’s not copying a combustion engine, but it could be mistaken for one. Let’s file it under a nice conversation starter in the polo club.

It’s a battle of willpower not to gun it at every opportunity 

Open the butterfly doors, which take part of the sill with them, and you don’t need to be a gymnast to get in. You slide over the squishy bolsters rather than dropping yourself into high-sided rigid race-style bucket seats. This is all part of the Battista’s intended appeal: that it’s a usable GT car first, an absolute rocketship second. The interior is simple – a trio of screens all gathered around the driver. The smallest central display attached to the steering column shows your speed and driving mode, the touchscreen on the left shows charging status, details what each driving mode means and lets you adjust the seat and steering wheel, while the one on the right takes care of aircon and music.

If you like blue suede seats, all the matte carbon (chunky knit on the exposed tub, tighter weave on the interior components) and quilted leather, you’re going to love it in here. The rule is clear – if you wish to charge many millions for a car you need to take every opportunity to swathe it in rare and exotic materials. Case in point – the exterior of our test car, finished in exposed carbon at no doubt huge expense. Up close, it’s astonishing, from a distance it just looks browny black. We’d go with a punchier paint colour and celebrate your success.

A pleasant place to sit then, and to travel in at sane speeds, but a battle of willpower not to gun it at every opportunity. Because the performance is ever-present, it looms like the devil on your shoulder. Four motors, one for each wheel, enable full torque vectoring – so the power can be sent instantly to wherever it’s needed most – and combine to produce a headline figure of 1,874bhp and 1,696lb ft of torque. For reference that’s the twist of 2.4 LaFerraris. Zero to 60mph takes sub-two seconds, 0–186mph takes less than 12 seconds, top speed is 217mph.

Cue part two of the billionaire fantasy – Homestead Miami, a NASCAR oval with some decent infield corners – all to ourselves. I waste no time pointing it down the straight and dumping the throttle. At which point I let out an involuntary squeak as the air’s crushed from my lungs and we jag forward in a way I’ve never experienced.

The straight-line acceleration makes a Taycan feel like a G-Wiz. And then I look down and realise I’m in Energica mode, rather than the full-English Furiosa setting, and only using 1,341bhp and 1,393lb ft of torque – just 71 per cent of the car’s potential.

My brain blows a fuse.

Quick word on those driving modes – adjusted by a rotating dial built into the door down by your left thigh. You have Caraterre (your opportunity to personalise all the settings on the car), Calma (the mildest with a mere 402bhp and 870lb ft of torque), Pura (999bhp, 1,044lb ft), Energica and finally Furiosa (1,874bhp and 1,741lb ft, along with full torque vectoring deployed). That rear wing, which acts as an airbrake and pops up automatically at high speed can generate up to 500kg of downforce, “more than the weight of a fully grown polar bear", according to Pininfarina. I’d like to see how they verified that.

But just as I’m about to crank it up to Furiosa and probably put my back out, the heavens open and we retreat to the pits. I mention this because when we eventually head back out the track is still damp, and that’s significant when you have 1,847bhp and chilly Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2Rs. Now, if I use full throttle anywhere it’s spinning up its tyres (there’s a standard state 30/70 front/rear torque split, before torque vectoring or traction control intervenes) and the front end bite can’t contain the momentum. Counter that with a prod of the throttle and push understeer turns to power oversteer. There’s a lot going on. Yes, this may be one of the most technologically advanced cars ever, with a suite of electronic assistance that boggles the mind, but 1,874bhp is still 1,874bhp, and there’s always an intimidation factor when four lukewarm contact patches have a moist surface to claw at, and circa two tonnes to try and discipline.

But as the track dries through the afternoon, the Battista’s genius slowly reveals itself. As grip grows, I explore more of the throttle travel, more of the time. It starts to bite on the way in and catapult its way out. You feel the torque vectoring rolling up its sleeves and the mass seems to fall away until I find myself launching it down the straight, leaning on the brakes hard (which are monstrous given the task at hand) and scything through the bends. It’s a wild ride, and a physically demanding one despite Ferrari-esque, light-but- whipcrack-quick steering, and the absence of a clutch. The punishment comes from g-force rather than weighty controls.

It’s outrageous that a car weighing this much, that is not marketed on its track abilities, that is supposed to be slightly more laid-back than the Rimac Nevera, is capable of such feral aggression. It absolutely lunches the infield circuit and leaves me breathless and wanting more. I don’t suspect many Battista owners will be queuing up to attend a track day, but I encourage them to do so and experience the lofty limits. Pick a sunny one and you’re in for a shock.

Clearly there are limitations to owning an electric hypercar over one with a screaming V12: a dearth of noise, limited range, the work-in-progress public charging infrastructure, not being able to flick up and down a gearbox to mention a few, but at this stratospheric price and performance point it’s all about conjuring up an experience that lodges in your brain and gets the adrenalin pumping. And it is impossible to drive the Battista and not be mesmerised by the way it warps forward and handles its mass. Mark my words, you will never get used to the Battista’s club-round-the-head performance, because the human body is simply not equipped to.

And yet, it nails the brief: it’s stunning inside and out, find a vein of rapid chargers between your Mayfair mansion and Courchevel chalet and it can easily handle the long-legged stuff. Take it somewhere with enough space to play and it will never fail to leave you shocked and in awe. It’s a car that fills us with hope for all the creative EV solutions to come. Admittedly this isn’t a particularly congested category right now, but it’s also Top Gear’s Hyper GT of 2021.

A big thank you to Sotheby’s for loaning us a mansion for a morning, and it could be yours: 8341 SW 54th Ave Miami is listed for $6.99 million by Michael Martinez with ONE Sotheby’s International Realty