Rolls-Royce Cullinan review

Rolls-Royce has never been one for hiding its light under a bushel. "Our answer to history, to the visionaries, adventurers, explorers and those who believe in the supremacy of liberty is the Rolls-Royce Cullinan," CEO Torsten Müller Ötvös declaimed at the SUVs launch. "It dramatically evolves the parameters of super-luxury travel. It is effortless, everywhere."

And what about when the hyperbole machine isn’t in overdrive?

Launched back in 2018, the Cullinan was Roll’s belated and controversial response to the boom in SUVs. Nothing symbolises human contrariness more than the rise of the vehicle designed to do things 95 per cent of its end users will never engage with and, depending on where you stand, the Cullinan is either the pinnacle of automotive achievement or a near-£300k white elephant.

As much a white elephant as the Ferrari Purosangue?

We’d argue Rolls-Royce’s brand values – and history – chime better with the principles of a modern off-roader than Ferrari’s. Nevertheless, what’s interesting about both cars, what they have in common besides similar price tags and rear-hinged back doors, is that they’re not afraid to do things differently to the rest of the SUV herd.

The Cullinan, like the Purosangue, is a Royce first, an SUV second. Passenger comfort matters way more than boot volume or cabin versatility (although we will talk about that in the Interior section). The rear seats in our test car didn’t fold, in fact luggage was separated from people by a glass divider. You can have ‘normal’ folding seats, but why would you? You might as well have a Volvo XC90.

Quite. Now, what goes on underneath?

The Cullinan reworks the so-called ‘Architecture of Luxury’ structure that lies beneath the fabulous Phantom. We’re talking a modular aluminium spaceframe, with castings in each corner and extrusions in between, reconfigured here into a form that sits higher and shorter than in its limousine brother, with a split tailgate (Rolls airily calls it The Clasp) added for the necessary versatility. The new chassis is 30 per cent stiffer than the previous one, an improvement that helps the transition to super-sized 4x4.

To the Phantom’s preternatural calmness, the Cullinan adds all the soft- and hardware needed to send it down the road and up a mountain with the sort of invincibility that saw early Rolls patron T.E Lawrence turn his car (nicked off a woman in a Cairo nightclub, or so the story goes) into an unexpectedly robust war machine.

But what happened with the styling? It makes a Bentayga look dainty and sophisticated.

Without wishing to sound euphemistic, it’s fair to say the Cullinan’s design has excited a variety of opinion. Some have compared it to a London taxi or the Canyonero in The Simpsons; others have been less kind. Maybe a shallower glass area would have helped the proportions, but the Cullinan is purposely meant to be a mobile viewing platform, and eschews the Phantom’s chunky privacy C-pillar in the process.

Like the Phantom it doesn’t want for drama. Its laser headlights – complete with frosted elements – and vertical and horizontal lines result in a face that Rolls likens to a warrior (from which historical era it doesn’t say). The bonnet sits higher than the front wings to emphasise the car’s tougher job description, and the traditional Parthenon grille is made from hand-polished stainless steel, and sits proud of the bodywork here. Eleanor, the Spirit of Ecstasy, sits higher too, but she’s not wearing a North Face puffer or anything.

You see all of this from the driving seat. Everyone else sees it from miles away. It's big: 5,341mm long, 2,000mm wide and 1,835mm tall, and while its surfaces are fantastically resolved, they’re just lacking the last bit of considered honing. It looks heavy – and it is: 2,660kg unladen. Our car was burdened with near enough 200kg of options, weighing in at 2,850kg.

Any other details worth talking about?

The Cullinan has ‘coach’ doors (whose handles draw the eye in a touch too much), but gains a rear ‘bustle’ that references the 1930s Rolls D-Back. Back then, your possessions travelled separately in a trunk.

Still don’t like it? Wait until you see one on the move. Like all Rolls-Royces, the Cullinan is a car that sits beautifully and steadily on the road. Driving is an imperious, hushed experience. There’s a weighting, control and smoothness to every component.

Speaking of which, there’s no electric or hybrid at work here is there?

None whatsoever, although it’s safe to assume that the electric Spectre’s underpinnings will make their way into the Cullinan before too long. Instead what we have here is twin turbo 6.75-litre V12 developing 563bhp and, more suitably, 626lb ft at a mere 1,600rpm. The urge is effortless. And significant if prodded: 0-62mph takes five and a half seconds, top speed is a limited 155mph. Fuel consumption is quoted at 17.0mpg. You’ll be lucky.

Talk price for a second.

Will do, although we’ll go into more detail in the Buying section. The Cullinan costs from £298,800, with the Black Badge version (bit more power at 591bhp/663lb ft and darker, ‘more urban’ colour schemes) coming in at £342,600.

Does it have rivals?

Rolls-Royce will of course claim not, and to be fair, nothing does quite the same job in the same way that this does. However, you can’t ignore the £313k Ferrari Purosangue for doing the same job of trying to expand the appeal of a luxury brand to a new audience.

Others though – they’re all half the money: the Bentley Bentayga and Aston DBX both start at under £170k, Range Rovers are available from a touch past £100k. And that, as ever, and despite the ‘bargain’ price tag, is probably the Cullinan’s most direct, capable rival. A fully specced up long wheelbase Rangey SV with the executive seats and 607bhp engine is a very lovely thing indeed. If not the last word in climate friendliness. But then which of these is?

Rolls-Royce’s cars are always vastly greater than the sum of their parts, and the Cullinan is part of a fascinating engineering continuum. The looks are divisive and distracting. Try to look beyond them, because underneath this car manages to behave like no other SUV, be it Bentley Bentayga or Range Rover. It’s smoother, quieter and more dignified than any other. It understands the essence of luxury is not endless screen menus and mood lighting, it’s about tactility, quality and imperviousness to what’s happening outside.

More than that it’s the Rolls-Royce you’d be happy to be seen driving yourself. Yes, technically speaking a Range Rover LWB has more rear legroom, more gadgets and is better looking, but this exists on a plane where people buy it because of its expense, not despite its expense. Mad world, really. But this is an entertainment experience as much as it is a conveyance.