Flat out in the 1,183bhp F80: can this tech-heavy V6 still thrill like an old-school Ferrari?

Carbon fibre wheels roll to a stop in the pitlane at Misano. The Ferrari F80’s fans are working at full pace to counter the fierce heat and the thermal load of a full day of fast laps and a couple of hours of loose driving for the camera. For now it’s over.

The first day of the launch for Ferrari’s new godfather of the range. The F80 follows 288 GTO, F40, F50, Enzo and LaFerrari. A statement of intent for the future and a 1,183bhp flex that embodies everything Ferrari knows about making a supercar right here and now. Tonight? Pasta, limoncello, a million mosquito bites... and a significant amount of puzzlement.

I don’t love it. There’s respect. Awe, even. The F80 does some incredible things. I’m not sure that I’ve ever driven a road car that can overlap braking and turning with such steadfast composure. Nor one with such amazing responsiveness but utter calm to the steering. It’s like the world has sped up, but the driver’s inputs can slow down. Every millisecond fraught with action but somehow extended to provide complete clarity. The car feels superpowered but natural, hyper-alert yet serenely controlled and the powertrain is demonically complex but responds with an intense, singular ferocity. It should be love. So what gives?

Photography: Olgun Kordal

My fear is that I’m just prejudiced. Or getting old. As is well publicised, the F80 rejects the normally aspirated V12 that has been the heart of Ferrari’s boss supercar since the once maligned but now rightly celebrated F50. (Ferrari is at pains to not use the ‘hypercar’ word, perhaps because it calls to mind cars as jewellery or flaky science experiments?)

In its place there’s a 3.0-litre, twin turbocharged 120° V6 engine mounted incredibly low in a chassis made up of a carbon tub and aluminium subframes. It’s related to the 296 GTB engine but significantly changed and is – in concept at least – well aligned with the engine that has powered the 499P racecar to three consecutive Le Mans victories.

And yes, for me it’s hard not to think that 12 is better than 6. Always. But I fully buy in to the motorsport-derived philosophy. I recognise that the 288 GTO of 1984, the progenitor of this whole line, had a twin turbo V8 engine because that was the best route to Group B glory. The ultimate doesn’t need 12 cylinders. Especially when the tiny F163CF engine revs to 9,200rpm, features e-turbo technology to eliminate lag, produces 888bhp and is supported by a rear MGU-K, plus a further two electric motors on the front axle for that combined output of 1,183bhp.

I’ve drooled over other super geeky stuff all cleverly packaged into the F80, too. The inboard suspension with continuously variable Multimatic dampers that can actively change the ride height and control roll by exerting force on the damper rod and negate the need for anti-roll bars. The fact that the chassis itself is asymmetric and positions the passenger slightly behind the driver for – take this with a pinch of salt – a “single seater environment”.

New Brembo CCM R Plus carbon ceramic brakes directly derived from motorsport. The remarkable aerodynamic performance that produces up to 1,050kg of downforce at 155mph thanks to an S-duct system in addition to a tri-plane front wing, an active rear wing with 22° of movement and a monster Venturi that’s 1,800mm in length (as compared to just 600mm in LaFerrari).

The details never let up. The engineering team tilted the engine and eight speed dual clutch box at 1.3° to allow for a deeper, more effective Venturi structure. Reverse is handled by the front e-axle, incidentally. Like I said, I love all this stuff. A kind of roadgoing 499P that’s been let off the leash? Sign me up right now. Even at around £3.1 million. Plus the inevitable options spend that would buy a perfectly serviceable car. You know, something like a complete 296 GTB.

The F80 should and demonstrably is pushing the boundaries in a direction signposted by current trends in top level motorsport, only without pesky rules and ‘Balance of Performance’ stuff to get in the way. My heart is ready to accept it in... but so far, the dynamics blow my mind but don’t stir the soul.

In hindsight, over dinner, the highlights of the day do start to feel pretty special. I really do love the driving environment and the small, almost rectangular steering wheel. It looks tiny and like it could be awkward to manipulate, but the F80’s steering is quick enough that you never need move your hands from the perfect position.

So, instead it imparts a proper prototype racer feel. And despite the incredibly powerful Multimatic dampers – each with its own electric motor – that allow for millimetre perfect platform control, there’s a tangible sense of the grip levels pouring through the steering wheel. Technology is embraced and deployed to devastating effect, but old school feedback keeps the driver very much in the loop.

The brakes are fantastic. Not just powerful but consistent and so easy to modulate despite the mixture of regen and the trick carbon ceramic friction discs. The cohesive nature of the F80 despite its different power sources, modes and active suspension and aerodynamics is pretty amazing. I drift off to sleep dreaming of how it flows over serrated kerbs and the moments where the rear tyres would spin up but stay beautifully controllable. Nearly 1,200bhp made to feel not just reasonable, but perfectly logical.

Day Two

Here’s a little peek behind the curtain. Our time on the road – a scant four hours – must be shared with another journalist, photographer and videographer. The route has one fantastic section, but it’s at the very far end of the suggested loop. Just over an hour away. As you can imagine, a couple of hours to gather everything we need and have a meaningful drive is impossibly tight. The fact it’s just under 40°C adding to the stress as Olgun, Aran and our colleagues/deadly rivals are fighting the elements as well as the clock. It’s grotesquely hot.

The route to our chosen spot wends cross country on narrow lanes, runs straight along an autostrada and then plunges into a gorge. I’m relegated to the passenger seat, set back from the driver in the red Alcantara hot seat in a fixed seat in contrasting black trim. This offset configuration helped shrink the cabin for much improved aerodynamics and the F80 is pretty tight inside. The ‘high feet’ driving position was also adopted to help feed the underfloor. Yet the F80 feels compact and focused but not cramped or deeply compromised like, say, the Aston Martin Valkyrie. It’s a car you could drive, or ride in, for prolonged periods.

It’s noisy in here. As we’re not exercising the powertrain particularly, the dominant ingredient is tyre roar. A carbon tub and 345/30 R21 rear tyres will do that. But again, it’s aggressive sports car loud. A step above a GT3 RS, maybe, but nowhere near Aston’s carbon fibre wonder. Ferrari is at pains to tell us this is a road car first and foremost and initial impressions suggest it’s right. Only the ride quality falls behind the spookily supple Valkyrie.

Despite a spring rate close to the SF90 (if it wasn’t for the active suspension the spring would have to be twice as stiff), the F80 feels pretty busy over choppy Italian tarmac at low and medium speeds. Even so, the F80 has the same lean, alert feel of other mid-engined Ferraris. Only more so. I’d happily do many miles in this thing. Preferably in the red chair, admittedly. The good vibes are building.

In truth, I just don’t want to stop driving. Every mile reveals a new detail to enjoy or a moment of magic

Even so, nothing prepares me for what happens next. We reach our designated base camp, I hop into the driver’s seat, dial up the manettino to Race, switch from Hybrid to Performance mode for the powertrain and set off on a voyage of discovery. The F80 doesn’t so much raise its game as metamorphose into a whole different animal. The noise! How can a V6 sound this good inside when externally the only sound is it shredding the air? The deep, dirty shriek is genuinely fantastic. The engine is so hard-edged and angry – as well it should be with around 300bhp per litre – but the electric motors add complexity, drama and intrigue. On the overrun it sounds just like a Hypercar at Le Mans slowing for Arnage.

The e-turbos don’t snort and hiss quite like an F40 but they chime in at times, too. The noise is intense, layered and pure motorsport, and the driving experience has staggering depth to match. The gearbox is simply the very best paddleshift box ever fitted to a road car. It has the punch and precision of a proper pneumatic shift race box but seems to change even faster. Every upshift signified by a heavy artillery crack that ricochets off the rock faces, and underpinned by torque delivery that’s as strong and unbendable as titanium billet. Astounding.

Just as on the circuit, the F80’s steering has unerring accuracy and high resolution clarity, but here the chassis feels so much more alive. The car combines a sense of invincible composure with genuine adjustability. Where on the track the F80 could feel a little prescriptive, on the road it bends to the driver’s will and seems so light on its feet. It carries phenomenal speed but such is the power that you can adjust the balance with the throttle so naturally. Should you feel confident enough to select CT Off on the manettino (one step before the full ESC Off high stakes mode), the F80 rewards with even greater precision.

Playful is the wrong word because things are happening too quickly and feel clinically efficient – like a high-level driver on a qualifying lap – but the sense you’re in absolute control of a car with massive potential is incredibly exciting and sort of unbelievable. Like you’ve been dropped into a competition car and somehow know just how to wring every last micron of performance out if it. Athletes talk about ‘flow state’, the F80 brings it to life even for mere mortals.

In truth, I just don’t want to stop driving. Every mile reveals a new detail to enjoy or a moment of magic. I’m searching my frames of reference for a car that combines such a sense of honed, precise perfection with utter fury and a real, exploitable taste for exuberance. The F80 seems capable of holding all these disparate qualities in one glorious sequence.

And what’s really cool is that the F80 isn’t great despite all the technology it's adopted, but because it’s travelled that route and used every piece of hardware and line of code to such devastating effect. It feels like a car that only Ferrari could build. The product of a melting pot of a world-leading endurance racing programme, F1 operation and maker of some of the most sophisticated and exciting supercars on the planet.

For the return journey I was in the red seat, flowing through the valleys, ripping past wrung out Pandas and laughing and whooping for joy with every thunderous upshift crack. This vision of a bright red Ferrari piercing through Italy, occupants smiling and laughing, sun high in the sky and cares floating away on the warm breeze is pure cliche. But sometimes you have to submit to the moment and appreciate the magic.

The F80 is Ferrari in 2025. A supercar for this specific moment in time. Yet the old spirit lives on. I’m pleased to report that the awe and admiration remains, but after our revelatory time on the road, the love comes through.