Rolls-Royce Cullinan review

We’re going to edge round the subject by starting here: there’s a greater number of high net worth individuals than ever, and you need way more actual net worth to join the club than you did 20 years ago. You’re also more likely to be younger, into the idea of venturing off-grid and doing crazy stuff. Experiential luxury, it’s called. Or so we’re told.

In which case, Aspen, Jackson Hole, and Gstaad will soon be heaving with Cullinans that can climb mountains while keeping the Dom Perignon chilled. There’s a perverse pleasure in pointing one of these things up a rocky pass and letting it get on with it.

And how does it fare if you do that?

The Cullinan takes Rolls’ fabled ride and refinement qualities into a new domain, doing to off-road rubble and ruts what the Phantom does to regular road imperfections. It doesn’t glide exactly, but even sitting in the back – for research purposes obviously – the signature serenity is achieved. To put it another way, you’re less likely to throw up in one of these.

But this is not a car that trades on its off-road prowess. There’s an off-road button on the centre console, plus hill descent and adjustable ride height with up to 540mm of wading depth (the deepest, claims Rolls, of any super-luxury SUV and 40mm more than a Bentley Bentayga). It’ll go beyond anywhere any owner will be prepared to take it, and maintain its dignity in all situations.

Does the Cullinan cut it in everyday use?

It’s not quite the instant, almost surreally refined hit that the Phantom is. According to chassis engineer Jens Leopoldsberger, it’s not meant to be. They were after a different character here. Networking all the systems to manage a much broader range of conditions is no mean feat, so maybe it’s unsurprising that an SUV, with a higher centre of gravity compared even to the unusually lofty Phantom, feels less adroit. But only a little less in real terms, such is the quality of its body control and the accuracy of its (fully electric) steering.

How’s the ride and comfort?

There’s a new double wishbone set-up at the front and a five-link rear axle, with a redesigned self-levelling air suspension whose air struts have a bigger volume for miraculous bump absorption. Electronically controlled dampers work off body and wheel acceleration, as well as the ‘Flagbearer’ stereo camera system that reads the road ahead.

The Cullinan also benefits from four-wheel steering (it turns to three degrees for greater agility at low speed and enhanced stability at faster velocities), there’s a 48-volt anti-roll system, and power goes to all four wheels in a 50/50 split (it’s the first Rolls in the company’s history to have a driven front axle). The drive and propshafts have also been reinforced.

What this all adds up to is an SUV that rides like no other. It may have off-road ability, but in no way has that upset its road manners. Often big, air sprung SUVs with massive, heavy wheels suffer kickback and vibration. Not here. This is sumptuous. The refinement is unparalleled. It travels everywhere with a weighty, oily, calming smoothness.

Can you hear the V12 rumbling away?

Only if you venture into the second half of the throttle travel. Then you get a distant thrumming roar, and a few other cues that the car’s demeanour has changed. The prow picks up, there’s slight but insistent pressure in your back and the scenery streams by more rapidly.

But it’s the effortlessness of the powertrain in normal driving that’s most outstanding. Such is the torque (626lb ft at 1,600rpm or 663lb ft at 1,650rpm for the Black Badge) that the Cullinan surfs an easy wave and is never stressed. Besides, you don’t really know how hard it’s working, because all you have is a power reserve indicator, not a rev counter. There are no paddles, but you never go looking for them because the gearbox looks after itself so well.

Can you even feel the gear changes?

You can, but it’s the way the transmission is able to put down one ratio so calmly and delicately before picking up the next that’s unlike other cars. There’s a fractional delay there, but it only adds to the experience, giving the sensation that the car needs to take a breath.

Is it a car that enjoys being driven hard?

No. This is, like the Range Rover, a car from the luxury end of the SUV spectrum, that has not a sporting bone in its large body and does its best to insist you calm down. Throw it at some corners and you soon discover there’s only so much the anti-roll system can do, and although it picks up cleanly and speedily enough on the way out, you’re not getting much feel from it. But you don’t want that anyway, what you want is the consistent weighting from all the controls, and you get that in spades. Nothing steers, brakes or accelerates as slickly as a Royce. It appears entirely unhurried, and yet carries surprising speed.

So you settle into a sublime rhythm, seduced by the almost total absence of mechanical, wind or tyre noise. It’s a deeply impressive motor car, a Rolls-Royce with more layers than ever.