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A supercar fight for the ages: McLaren 750S vs Ferrari 296 GTB

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A supercar fight for the ages: McLaren 750S vs Ferrari 296 GTB | Top Gear

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A supercar fight for the ages: McLaren 750S vs Ferrari 296 GTB

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A supercar fight for the ages: McLaren 750S vs Ferrari 296 GTB

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Testarossa vs Countach. I look back over the history of the supercar and that 1980s ding dong is the only time I think there’s been a battle to match this one – 750S vs 296 GTB. These two shouldn’t be in the same division should they? The Ferrari 296 should line up against McLaren’s Artura – they have largely identical genetic make-ups after all, right down to the angle of their cylinder banks. But their personalities are miles apart. You drive these two back to back and they just want to knock lumps out of each other.

You’re now thinking of other titanic struggles at the top of the supercar class. Maybe 458 vs MP4-12C? Nah, that was Ferrari in its pomp while McLaren was getting its eye in. Woking might have had a few financial and quality wobbles since, but the engineering has matured beautifully. How about F355 vs NSX? That’s a goodie – the F355 was Maranello’s riposte to Honda’s NSX after the lazy 348. But they came at the supercar from very different perspectives.

These two are only as good as they are because each has directly influenced the other. Each has hunted for advantages through technology, engineering and design. Raw competition has driven them – to nab the Olympic motto – citius, altius, fortius: faster, higher, stronger. They are the Senna and Prost of supercars, all others have been left in their wake. Maserati, Lamborghini, Porsche, Corvette – all build cars that line up against these on paper, but fall short. These two not only rule the class, but have come to define it.

Photography: Olgun Kordal & Mark Riccioni

But is the 750S just a 720S with another 30bhp and a dash that no longer does the cool flip thing? Essentially yes – seven years on from the 720, it’s more facelift than all-new car. Which must make it a hard sell. However, the more time I spent in it, the more I realised how well resolved the 750S now is. It’s like it used to be ever so slightly blurry around the edges, but now it’s pin sharp. The improvements have mostly come in the background and it’s my subconscious that picks up on them.

But the essentials – carbon tub, twin turbo V8, cross-linked hydraulic dampers, lightweight ethos, focus on handling – haven’t changed much since 2017. It was knockout good when it arrived, won Speed Week that year. Which isn’t something the 296 GTB achieved when it landed in 2022. Second place to the GT4 RS may not have earned it a pot for the Maranello mantelpiece, but technically it was a big step forward for Ferrari’s ‘entry level’ mid-engined supercar.

It places a frying pan sized 165bhp electric motor between the twin turbo 3.0-litre V6 and eight speed twin clutch gearbox. In total the system develops 819bhp, a healthy 79bhp more than the Brit, and furnished with way more torque at low revs. But it also weighs considerably more. Ferrari says 1,470kg dry, on a weighbridge this one was 1,620kg. Pretty porky alongside the 1,389kg McLaren which therefore enjoys a superior power to weight ratio.

I drove the Ferrari up here yesterday and not once did its weight concern me. Progress across North Wales was gaspingly rapid. There’s no delay, no hesitation, you think a thought and it’s already responding. This is a bright, vibrant, hyperactive supercar and it made short work of the often frustrating A5. Jethro Bovingdon arrived soon after in the 750, telling similar tales of outrageous speed across the ground.

Because this needs saying: these two are probably the fastest road cars money can buy. So much engineering and innovation has been poured in during their indirect development conflict that no thousand horsepower hypercar is quicker down a good road, any super EV would be left miles behind after the first corner. They are fluent, composed and do speed as easily as breathing. It’s what they exist for, all they know.

Happily, they’re not phased by rain. Thick clouds drag their bellies across the landscape inserting us into a sodden, misty netherworld. Twice it gets so bad we abandon to hug cups of coffee in Ffestiniog. The components getting the biggest workout are the demisters. But when we drive, the cars relish it. They should be skittish and irritable, especially the McLaren on its P Zero Corsa tyres, but those are a revelation in the wet and both cars remain trustworthy and exploitable. Not bad considering these are ramped up, to the max, track machines.

The 296 is fitted with the £25,920 Assetto Fiorano pack. That’s £2,000 for each kilo taken out, plus you get fixed rate Multimatic dampers. The 750S comes with £14,900 of track brakes, a £5,000 titanium roll cage and a frankly bewildering £46,510 of exterior carbon fibre. Both have over £100,000 of options fitted. But while a lot of this is aimed at making them better track cars, it doesn’t help them on the road.

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In the McLaren it’s the dreadful track seats that get to you. They’re too wide, so I bruise my hips, and the bare carbon with a few tactfully positioned pads reminds me of fuzzy felt stuck to the sides of a jar. Ergonomically though, it’s brilliant. Everything is easy to find, where you want it, and works. It’s a shame the theatre of that tilting display has gone – dropping it down not only removed extraneous information, but improved the view forwards – but this is an intelligently designed cabin. You don’t have to take your eyes off the road, you can operate it easily. And the quality is a big step forward. I can’t put my finger on any one thing, but overall there’s an air of solidity and tactility that ups McLaren’s game significantly. Fingers crossed for customer cars and settled electrics.

Meanwhile, Ferrari has been going backwards in recent years. Let’s leave aside the spec of this car (“Like sitting in Smurf land” is Jethro’s comment) – what is teeth gnawingly frustrating is that it’s nigh on impossible to operate on the move. Maybe this is intentional: make everything so dysfunctional that you can only concentrate on the driving. But this is a modern supercar, the kind you should be able to drive to work and back. Not once could I get CarPlay to work, the swipe sensitive pads on the steering wheel are anything but, the dash display is nonsensical, the menus a lottery. I just wanted to throw the whole system in the bin. It’s across the Ferrari range now, from Roma to SF90, and it just doesn’t work. There’s no thought to the ergonomics or action of any control bar the manettino. And it’s just not very attractive inside. It’s austere, stern. This is all stuff we’ve criticised before, but the McLaren shows it can – should – be done better.

It’s been complacency that’s undone Ferrari in the past. You see it in the cabin, but not in the way this thing goes down a road. It’s the same size as the McLaren but has a wheelbase 70mm shorter and a much quicker steering rack. To start with I struggle to tame my inputs, everything I do is magnified, as if Italianness is being added to my reserved British manners. It’s the steering and throttle. You turn the steering wheel and the front axle darts towards the apex, you have to take lock off. Then you get on the throttle and the Ferrari accelerates like a flicked pea, you have to back off. You do learn to measure your inputs but even so the 296 wants to take your breath away, wants to show you what it’s capable of.

Where the Ferrari adds a layer of interpretation, the McLaren contents itself with reflecting your inputs as accurately and faithfully as possible. It’s the more feelsome, dextrous car, the clearer communicator. Your fingertips tingle when you stop driving. Jethro and I chase each other through this usually epic scenery, the McLaren is the more accurate car into corners, but the Ferrari gaps it out of every single one. E-thrust plus fizzy turbos give it a jump the McLaren can’t match even if it’s properly on the boil.

The following day we drive to Anglesey. Neither is a great long hauler, the seats in both could be better, road roar could be lessened, and although the McLaren rides a little more soothingly, it’s not night and day better. But it is more practical, has a lighter yet cosier cockpit and still looks knockout good. It’s early, so we pause at a beach just to take the cars in. It’s a shame McLaren hasn’t found a route forward for the 750S’s styling, but it’s still a properly good looking thing. While the Ferrari riffs on history for its visual influences, the McLaren is – still – the more forward looking. You walk round it asking questions about why the intakes are like they are, where the air goes. It’s an intriguing shape.

While our backs are turned the fog rolls in. You couldn’t make it up. Yesterday the rain fell, today the fog looks set to undo us. We kick our heels in the pitlane for a while, but then it clears and for an hour or two the track is dry and the cars get to go at it. Both are staggering. I can’t believe how well the McLaren stops and gets into corners. Here’s the weight advantage, in the mighty brakes, so precise and accurate, and its control and accuracy even when it’s at the limit of grip. Then on the power, predict the fractional lag and cling on as the force generator thrusts you forward, faster and faster. It does everything with a clipped precision, even big skids.

The Ferrari is somehow – despite its pared back cabin, and its ridiculous agility and zestiness – the more laid back, relaxed car on track. It’s effortlessly fast, doesn’t have to work as hard for its speed, the V6 sounds harder and better, kicks earlier, the chassis is wonderfully fluid, it works with the electronic systems so harmoniously. It’s a joyful device, an effortless dancer just out there having a good time.

The Ferrari is the more exuberant, playful car. The McLaren the more intense and focused

Jethro and I drive until the tyres are flapping rags of rubber and head to the pits for more. At which point the heavens open. Today, despite fresh tyres, it’s a different story in the wet. Neither can find any purchase on Anglesey’s slick surface, they’re fractious and snatchy. No matter, we had a good run of it for a few hours – plus days spent with them on road.

These cars. They’re a one stop shop to driving godhood. They can hold you sideways, they pack a punch to scare hypercars, they’re honed, lithe and athletic. They are both at the top of their game. The Ferrari is the more exuberant, playful car. The McLaren the more intense and focused. The Ferrari has the more exciting powertrain, plus the option of electric only city running. The McLaren is the clearer communicator, its steering is a real highlight.

Look, they’re both brilliant. They can cruise at 25mpg, they can also knock out 0–100mph in 5.5secs. They’re nuts. Which suits you more? That’s the only question you need to answer here. Jethro and I went into this test assuming that Ferrari’s generational leap forward would trounce McLaren’s precision facelift. We were wrong. We both came away wanting the McLaren more. So that’s our winner. But the 750S is only as good as it is because of the 296 GTB. And vice versa. Forty years ago the same was true of the Countach and Testarossa. Today does it matter who won that dust up? Does it heck. It was the battle itself that counted.

# data.attributes.body.processed
Testarossa vs Countach. I look back over the history of the supercar and that 1980s ding dong is the only time I think there’s been a battle to match this one – 750S vs 296 GTB. These two shouldn’t be in the same division should they? The Ferrari 296 should line up against McLaren’s Artura – they have largely identical genetic make-ups after all, right down to the angle of their cylinder banks. But their personalities are miles apart. You drive these two back to back and they just want to knock lumps out of each other.

You’re now thinking of other titanic struggles at the top of the supercar class. Maybe 458 vs MP4-12C? Nah, that was Ferrari in its pomp while McLaren was getting its eye in. Woking might have had a few financial and quality wobbles since, but the engineering has matured beautifully. How about F355 vs NSX? That’s a goodie – the F355 was Maranello’s riposte to Honda’s NSX after the lazy 348. But they came at the supercar from very different perspectives.

These two are only as good as they are because each has directly influenced the other. Each has hunted for advantages through technology, engineering and design. Raw competition has driven them – to nab the Olympic motto – citius, altius, fortius: faster, higher, stronger. They are the Senna and Prost of supercars, all others have been left in their wake. Maserati, Lamborghini, Porsche, Corvette – all build cars that line up against these on paper, but fall short. These two not only rule the class, but have come to define it.

Photography: Olgun Kordal & Mark Riccioni

But is the 750S just a 720S with another 30bhp and a dash that no longer does the cool flip thing? Essentially yes – seven years on from the 720, it’s more facelift than all-new car. Which must make it a hard sell. However, the more time I spent in it, the more I realised how well resolved the 750S now is. It’s like it used to be ever so slightly blurry around the edges, but now it’s pin sharp. The improvements have mostly come in the background and it’s my subconscious that picks up on them.

But the essentials – carbon tub, twin turbo V8, cross-linked hydraulic dampers, lightweight ethos, focus on handling – haven’t changed much since 2017. It was knockout good when it arrived, won Speed Week that year. Which isn’t something the 296 GTB achieved when it landed in 2022. Second place to the GT4 RS may not have earned it a pot for the Maranello mantelpiece, but technically it was a big step forward for Ferrari’s ‘entry level’ mid-engined supercar.

It places a frying pan sized 165bhp electric motor between the twin turbo 3.0-litre V6 and eight speed twin clutch gearbox. In total the system develops 819bhp, a healthy 79bhp more than the Brit, and furnished with way more torque at low revs. But it also weighs considerably more. Ferrari says 1,470kg dry, on a weighbridge this one was 1,620kg. Pretty porky alongside the 1,389kg McLaren which therefore enjoys a superior power to weight ratio.

I drove the Ferrari up here yesterday and not once did its weight concern me. Progress across North Wales was gaspingly rapid. There’s no delay, no hesitation, you think a thought and it’s already responding. This is a bright, vibrant, hyperactive supercar and it made short work of the often frustrating A5. Jethro Bovingdon arrived soon after in the 750, telling similar tales of outrageous speed across the ground.

Because this needs saying: these two are probably the fastest road cars money can buy. So much engineering and innovation has been poured in during their indirect development conflict that no thousand horsepower hypercar is quicker down a good road, any super EV would be left miles behind after the first corner. They are fluent, composed and do speed as easily as breathing. It’s what they exist for, all they know.

Happily, they’re not phased by rain. Thick clouds drag their bellies across the landscape inserting us into a sodden, misty netherworld. Twice it gets so bad we abandon to hug cups of coffee in Ffestiniog. The components getting the biggest workout are the demisters. But when we drive, the cars relish it. They should be skittish and irritable, especially the McLaren on its P Zero Corsa tyres, but those are a revelation in the wet and both cars remain trustworthy and exploitable. Not bad considering these are ramped up, to the max, track machines.

The 296 is fitted with the £25,920 Assetto Fiorano pack. That’s £2,000 for each kilo taken out, plus you get fixed rate Multimatic dampers. The 750S comes with £14,900 of track brakes, a £5,000 titanium roll cage and a frankly bewildering £46,510 of exterior carbon fibre. Both have over £100,000 of options fitted. But while a lot of this is aimed at making them better track cars, it doesn’t help them on the road.

In the McLaren it’s the dreadful track seats that get to you. They’re too wide, so I bruise my hips, and the bare carbon with a few tactfully positioned pads reminds me of fuzzy felt stuck to the sides of a jar. Ergonomically though, it’s brilliant. Everything is easy to find, where you want it, and works. It’s a shame the theatre of that tilting display has gone – dropping it down not only removed extraneous information, but improved the view forwards – but this is an intelligently designed cabin. You don’t have to take your eyes off the road, you can operate it easily. And the quality is a big step forward. I can’t put my finger on any one thing, but overall there’s an air of solidity and tactility that ups McLaren’s game significantly. Fingers crossed for customer cars and settled electrics.

Meanwhile, Ferrari has been going backwards in recent years. Let’s leave aside the spec of this car (“Like sitting in Smurf land” is Jethro’s comment) – what is teeth gnawingly frustrating is that it’s nigh on impossible to operate on the move. Maybe this is intentional: make everything so dysfunctional that you can only concentrate on the driving. But this is a modern supercar, the kind you should be able to drive to work and back. Not once could I get CarPlay to work, the swipe sensitive pads on the steering wheel are anything but, the dash display is nonsensical, the menus a lottery. I just wanted to throw the whole system in the bin. It’s across the Ferrari range now, from Roma to SF90, and it just doesn’t work. There’s no thought to the ergonomics or action of any control bar the manettino. And it’s just not very attractive inside. It’s austere, stern. This is all stuff we’ve criticised before, but the McLaren shows it can – should – be done better.

It’s been complacency that’s undone Ferrari in the past. You see it in the cabin, but not in the way this thing goes down a road. It’s the same size as the McLaren but has a wheelbase 70mm shorter and a much quicker steering rack. To start with I struggle to tame my inputs, everything I do is magnified, as if Italianness is being added to my reserved British manners. It’s the steering and throttle. You turn the steering wheel and the front axle darts towards the apex, you have to take lock off. Then you get on the throttle and the Ferrari accelerates like a flicked pea, you have to back off. You do learn to measure your inputs but even so the 296 wants to take your breath away, wants to show you what it’s capable of.

Where the Ferrari adds a layer of interpretation, the McLaren contents itself with reflecting your inputs as accurately and faithfully as possible. It’s the more feelsome, dextrous car, the clearer communicator. Your fingertips tingle when you stop driving. Jethro and I chase each other through this usually epic scenery, the McLaren is the more accurate car into corners, but the Ferrari gaps it out of every single one. E-thrust plus fizzy turbos give it a jump the McLaren can’t match even if it’s properly on the boil.

19 minutes 45 seconds

The following day we drive to Anglesey. Neither is a great long hauler, the seats in both could be better, road roar could be lessened, and although the McLaren rides a little more soothingly, it’s not night and day better. But it is more practical, has a lighter yet cosier cockpit and still looks knockout good. It’s early, so we pause at a beach just to take the cars in. It’s a shame McLaren hasn’t found a route forward for the 750S’s styling, but it’s still a properly good looking thing. While the Ferrari riffs on history for its visual influences, the McLaren is – still – the more forward looking. You walk round it asking questions about why the intakes are like they are, where the air goes. It’s an intriguing shape.

While our backs are turned the fog rolls in. You couldn’t make it up. Yesterday the rain fell, today the fog looks set to undo us. We kick our heels in the pitlane for a while, but then it clears and for an hour or two the track is dry and the cars get to go at it. Both are staggering. I can’t believe how well the McLaren stops and gets into corners. Here’s the weight advantage, in the mighty brakes, so precise and accurate, and its control and accuracy even when it’s at the limit of grip. Then on the power, predict the fractional lag and cling on as the force generator thrusts you forward, faster and faster. It does everything with a clipped precision, even big skids.

The Ferrari is somehow – despite its pared back cabin, and its ridiculous agility and zestiness – the more laid back, relaxed car on track. It’s effortlessly fast, doesn’t have to work as hard for its speed, the V6 sounds harder and better, kicks earlier, the chassis is wonderfully fluid, it works with the electronic systems so harmoniously. It’s a joyful device, an effortless dancer just out there having a good time.

The Ferrari is the more exuberant, playful car. The McLaren the more intense and focused

Jethro and I drive until the tyres are flapping rags of rubber and head to the pits for more. At which point the heavens open. Today, despite fresh tyres, it’s a different story in the wet. Neither can find any purchase on Anglesey’s slick surface, they’re fractious and snatchy. No matter, we had a good run of it for a few hours – plus days spent with them on road.

These cars. They’re a one stop shop to driving godhood. They can hold you sideways, they pack a punch to scare hypercars, they’re honed, lithe and athletic. They are both at the top of their game. The Ferrari is the more exuberant, playful car. The McLaren the more intense and focused. The Ferrari has the more exciting powertrain, plus the option of electric only city running. The McLaren is the clearer communicator, its steering is a real highlight.

Look, they’re both brilliant. They can cruise at 25mpg, they can also knock out 0–100mph in 5.5secs. They’re nuts. Which suits you more? That’s the only question you need to answer here. Jethro and I went into this test assuming that Ferrari’s generational leap forward would trounce McLaren’s precision facelift. We were wrong. We both came away wanting the McLaren more. So that’s our winner. But the 750S is only as good as it is because of the 296 GTB. And vice versa. Forty years ago the same was true of the Countach and Testarossa. Today does it matter who won that dust up? Does it heck. It was the battle itself that counted.

# data.attributes.field_standfirst
The Senna and Prost of supercars go toe-to-toe. Special one, this