Porsche 911 Turbo 50 Years review: Porsche’s £200k birthday present to itself

What’s this?

The Turbo 50 – Porsche’s 50th birthday present to itself. What’s it celebrating? Half a century of bolting mechanical snails onto engines in the name of speed. Juicy, usable – and sometimes scary, boosty – speed.

So, it’s a 911 Turbo in a birthday hat? Big deal.

It’s technically a Turbo S – but you and your sarcasm are on the right track as there’s very little in the way of changes. Only 1,974 examples will be produced (a not-so-subtle nod to the first Turbo’s birth year), and its muscular arches are slathered with vinyl signatures inspired by the Porsche 911 RSR Turbo, as shown at the, erm, 1973 Frankfurt Motor Show. Awkward.

But there’s a new metallic paint called ‘Turbonite', and desaturated monochrome touches are splashed onto the engine cover, fuel filler cap, and even the Porsche badges. It’s tasteful with a bit of tart, but yes, it’s essentially a posh Turbo S.

Surely it’s got more power?

You might have thought they’d give it a smidge more punch, but nope, it’s your standard 992 Turbo S. Saying that, it’s still the most powerful 911 on sale, complete with a 3.7-litre flat-six, 641bhp, and 590lb ft of torque, driven via all four wheels and an eight-speed twin-clutch PDK gearbox.

There’s a sports exhaust as standard, torque-vectoring diff, and 10mm lower adaptive suspension thrown in from the S too. Oh, and offset staggered 20in front and 21in rear wheels in a fancy new centre-lock design.

What’s it like on the inside?

Tartan-y and Turbo-y. Porsche claims it wanted to ‘recall the zeitgeist of the 1970s', which it thankfully did via deliciously Jackie Stewart-worthy Mackenzie blue tartan on the centre of the seats, door cards, dashboard, and in the glovebox. As you can imagine, there are plenty of Turbonite accents and Turbo 50 logos everywhere, including on the clock and doorplate.

Plus, just in case you forgot, to further remind you that this is a celebration of DAS TURBO, each time you open the door you’re greeted by an illuminated LED projection of an actual turbocharger. Anyone who isn’t a 10th dan car nerd will probably just mistake it for a hairdryer.

How much is it?

When it launched, the Turbo 50 was the most expensive 911 since the arrival of the Sport Classic. That’s now been bettered by the 911 S/T. But at £200,600, the Turbo 50 is a seriously expensive birthday cake. And that’s before you add options like the £11k Heritage Design Pack (which adds ‘Aventurine Green’ metallic paint, the historic Porsche Crest, Sport Classic Wheels, gold badging, and more stickers) or a £12k matching watch. Being a limited edition, Porschephiles will be all over it as they’re likely a safe bet investment – just look at the Sport Classic or S/T values now.

What’s it like?

Given the rampant expansion of the 911 range, I think it’s good to remind ourselves of the Turbo blueprint because it remains largely the same as it did in 1974. The aim was to have a synergy between luxury, speed, and usability. Naturally, performance is a factor – the turbo technology was pinched directly from motorsport. But nowadays, the GT cars built by the motorsport division – the delectable GT3 and wildly winged GT3 RS (and not forgetting the road-focused 911 S/T) – can plug that hole.

So the Turbo 50 is here for devouring roads (be them straight or serpentine-like) at great pace. Although it’s getting more complicated. The 992.2 GT3 Touring has just had the addition of rear seats, adding practicality and cannibalising some of the uniqueness of the Turbo. But how the two serve up their performance is completely different.

How so?

The Turbo’s strong, twin-turbocharged, rear-mounted flat-six is refined, smooth, and has that glorious side effect of turbocharging: lag. Of course, the quick-shifting PDK throws gears wherever they’re needed, in milliseconds, to shoo any lag away from the sub-3,000rpm dead zone by putting you in the higher end of the rev range. However, pressing the ‘M’ button to override it to swap cogs yourself with the steering wheel paddles is a supremely enjoyable wave to surf – then the performance comes in like someone dropped a skip full of Mentos into a volcano.

It’s quick then?

The devastating acceleration offered from any speed, on pretty much any surface, is the Porsche’s party trick that never gets old. It’s like a baby Veyron. And unlike an EV, there’s more theatre and less sickness.

The 992 Turbo S has more aggression to its character and dynamics. Admittedly, the electric steering is numb compared to a GT product and not helped by the inclusion of front drive shafts, but the Turbo 50 has more bite thanks to updated suspension and a 42mm increase in front track width to counter understeer. You’ve also got a raft of alphabetty spaghetti acronyms to keep you safe (PASM, PDCC, and PSM software). Saying that, the ride is too firm, especially for our rubbish UK roads. 

Being a Turbo S, you have the sportier, 10mm lower suspension. It’s electronically adjustable but too firm, even in its softest setting – more brittle and jiggly than the road-biased but harder-core S/T, which handles road conditions better but is admittedly lighter. And the Turbo 50 is heavy – 1,750kg with you, fuel, and a big lunch on board.

Luckily, the fantastic standard carbon-ceramic brakes have immense feel, bite, and are usable in cold temperatures day-to-day. You can change the attitude of the car dramatically by twisting the sport mode dial and entering Sport and Sport+. It becomes more focused, and shows its fangs with a protruding chin spoiler. And I have to say, I’m not one to extend a spoiler while parked, but the Turbo S is my only exception that breaks the rule: it just looks better, less of a shrinking violet. 

Are you saying it’s boring?

Absolutely not. This isn’t an MG3. But is it understated? Yes. It doesn’t scream like other supercars – it burbles and burns fuel satisfyingly on the overrun. Crack a window and hear the turbos sucking, blowing, and chumpfing. It may be accessible and undemanding to drive, but it would surprise everyone on a track day. You can get it to do things you wouldn’t expect. It’s not begging to be played with, but it knows how to cut loose and have a good time.

When you loosen the driver aids, you can play with the car, take liberties, and explore the balance and chassis. With a friendly 4WD system and trick diff, you can scamper yourself out of trouble if things get squirrely way more than any other 911.

And although the EV-worrying acceleration performance and cruise missile status is one thing, it can also be an enjoyable device on mountain roads. Sure, there’s so much grip from the AWD you won’t be throwing it around, but you can do it for hour after hour, mile after mile. The 992 may have grown, but it’s not awkward to see out of and unusable. The 18-way adjustable seats are a testament to that.

You can also put suitcases in the front and have the ability to throw bags or kids in the rear. Try that in your mid-engine supercar. Plus, it’s the only supercar you’re excited to do 30mpg in (which is easily possible) as well as 200mph. It’s still top of the 911 tree, the halo car and zenith of usable point-to-point and in-gear performance. A benchmark, still. 50 years later.

Should I get one?

It’s more a question of if you can. And even if you’re lucky, it’s jolly expensive when you look at it on paper. The Turbo 50 offers no more performance or fundamental differences than a regular Turbo S and has the same interior layout as a Carrera that’s £100k cheaper. Yes, there’s some fancy tartan that’s remarkably classy, but it’s offset by the rather gimmicky illuminated turbo logo on the floor.

Interestingly, Aston Martin has also recently upped the ante with the new Vantage, offering a lot of show and plenty of shove for £165k. Still, you can’t deny – or ignore – the performance of the Porsche. It remains the ultimate all-season supercar, now with a few extra stickers to show off your – and Porsche’s – love for forced induction. And who knows if turbochargers will be around in another 50 years. So we may as well celebrate them now, don’t you think?

Photography: Mark Riccioni