Maserati MC20 Cielo review

The door twists up and out in a very appealing way. You’re already well predisposed to the Cielo because of its sculptural styling. You drop down onto a seat that isn’t quite as flat and unsupportive as it looks, but certainly doesn’t clamp you in place. It could – and should – be better. Otherwise the driving position is good. Maybe a little high, but you’ll get over it.

The view forwards and around the pillars presents no issues, which isn't a given in a mid-engined car. You look over and beyond the twin hillocks of the front wings, which is both aesthetically and practically satisfying as it gives a sense of where the car is around you. Backward and over-shoulder visibility? Rubbish.

And with the roof down?

It can get a bit breezy. There's no compulsion to raise the roof even on a motorway, but to quell the turbulence we found ourselves lifting the side windows at lower speeds than in most convertibles. Once you do, turbulence drops away and you’re free to enjoy a car that’s relaxing in your hands and whisks easily, swiftly along country roads. All very in keeping with the convertible ethos.

How’s the cabin tech?

The twin dash screens are modern and have good graphics. More important with the Cielo version, they're bright enough to be visible in direct sunlight when you're wearing sunglasses. The touchscreen is a bit unresponsive and sluggish and you need that to operate climate, entertainment, navigation, roof position and opacity, and a load of car functions including driver assist. Menus, thankfully, are logical and easy to navigate. It's actually a Maserati skin on the Android OS.

But physical switches don't only give a car's interior tactile pleasures and operating speed. They also impart visual character. In their absence, the MC20's cabin is a mite uninteresting. You get a phone charge pad and a tiny console box. Otherwise cabin storage is way too mean. There's nothing in the doors (they swing up so any bin would be self-emptying), no cupholders and no stretchy nets alongside the tunnel.

Which is a shame because the Cielo, like the coupe, also wants for boot space. There's a shallow bin up front of 50 litres, half-filled by tyre-repair and first-aid kits. The rear boot is just 100 litres, and the exhaust roasts it. So you've basically got to get all your baggage into an unequal pair of squishy holdalls. Not very granturismo, sadly. Also the 60-litre petrol tank will have you nervously scouting for a petrol station after 230-odd miles – much sooner if you're pedalling hard.