It’s truly beautiful, maybe stunning. Fluid, elegant, and charismatic with its long hood and rounded rear. I’m referring to the new Amalfi, but the same descriptions equally apply to the car it replaced, the Roma. Given how closely the two Ferraris resemble each other, perhaps it’s time for a game of spot the differences.
The most obvious change between old and new is the grille. The Roma’s “cheese grater” disappears, replaced by a wide-open, mesh-filled mouth. The headlights, already compact, are even more refined, and the front fenders appear less pronounced on the Amalfi than on the Roma—perhaps my eyes are deceiving me?
The elegant rear end loses the Roma’s somewhat bulbous taillights, while the rear spoiler and diffuser are both more prominent and better integrated into the seamless lines. Those lines remain superb, more elegant than sporty, and also some of the most sensual in production.
Overall, it’s as if Flavio Manzoni, Ferrari’s head of design, landed on a pebble beach and, after letting himself be immersed in so many gentle curves, decided to extrapolate this Ferrari from them. The Amalfi is smooth, polished, monolithic, almost eroded.
All that said, one could criticize this approach as stylistic timidity. In addition, while there are a few style continuities between this entry-level GT model and the ferocious beasts that are the 849 Testarossa and F80, the connection is tenuous. Given that neither the California nor the Roma made much of a mark in the history of Ferrari design, it’s quite unlikely the Amalfi will, either.
However, the fact remains that the coupe, while not exactly imposing, is appealing even outside its homeland. This becomes quickly clear in Portugal, between Lisbon and Faro, where Ferrari hosted the press launch of the new machine.
WITH 640 HORSEPOWER (20 MORE PONIES THAN THE ROMA), the Amalfi is the least powerful model in the stable—yet it’s a fine introduction, nonetheless. Like its predecessor, the Amalfi relies on the F154 engine for its graceful movement.
This 3.9-liter twin-turbo V8 sits behind the front axle, its intake ducts connecting to the red valve covers at the level of the shock absorber mounts. The engine appears to be tilted downwards, as if to take full advantage of the very favorable weight distribution.
The power increase is modest, but the engineers didn’t stop with spinning the turbochargers to 171,000 rpm, 6,000 higher than in the Roma. The engine block, machined with greater precision, loses one kilogram, while the four camshafts save another 1.3 kg (shedding a total of five pounds). The Amalfi is the first Ferrari to use 0W30 oil, with its very low viscosity reducing warm-up time by 30 percent.
Technically, the main innovation is the adoption of brake-by-wire. The Roma was the only Ferrari in the lineup to lack this feature, and the Amalfi rectifies the shortcoming, if indeed it is one.
The hotel courtyard where we pick up our green (Verde Costiera was developed exclusively for the Amalfi) carriage is paved—not with good intentions, but rather neat little stone cubes worn smooth by the constant passage of vehicles. Both photographer Lefebvre and I agree that the Ferrari’s ride over the cobbles is impressively smooth, a credit to the magnetorheological suspension hardware carried over from the Roma.
According to Jacopo Canestri, Vehicle Dynamics Project Manager, the MagneRide dampers’ calibration has been improved “for greater cohesion, especially at high frequencies.” At legal speeds, the Amalfi has an almost Bentley-like plushness. Compression is controlled and progressive, while rebound is restrained and light, without sending the heads of the two occupants (the rear seats serve only as extra storage) into the attractive headliner, which sits a |little too close to my hair.
The dual-cockpit dashboard layout is a success. The infotainment, whether on the driver’s or passenger’s side, is clear and legible, and the return of physical controls to the steering wheel simplifies navigation between the various menus. As a bonus, it’s easy to deactivate the various alerts (e.g., speeding, lane keeping assist, etc.) in just three steps, whereas many cars require swiping the central screen for several seconds to disable all these intrusive nannies.
The 3.9-liter V8 benefits from a new exhaust system, with redesigned mufflers and eight outlet pipes of equal length for a deeper, more resonant sound. Having never driven a Roma, I must rely on the opinion of trusted colleagues who assure me that the Amalfi sounds more refined and louder.
However, the sound isn’t particularly Ferrari-like. There isn’t that lyrical climb to the high notes characteristic of Maranello’s high-performance machines. On a related note, the 7,600-rpm rev limiter feels both like a relief, as the torque starts to taper off around 6,800 rpm, and a disappointment, accustomed as I am to that seemingly endless climb up other Ferraris’ rev counters.
How about the driving experience? Also paradoxical. Even in Race mode, the Amalfi is remarkably smooth. During sporty driving, the seats’ lateral support leaves something to
be desired. The Amalfi is best enjoyed at a GT pace, where its magnetic suspension ensures remarkable stability and its light, precise steering makes cornering a delight. It’s reassuringly easy to drive quickly, and encourages me to drive more, and longer.
The V8’s sound isn’t intrusive, as in the Aston Martin Vantage. The British car, in terms of sensations, offers more, and its 670-hp 4-liter V8 is more responsive at low revs—although it must be said that in Gaydon, unlike in Maranello, software doesn’t limit the engine’s torque output based on gear. The Amalfi is certainly no slouch, but it doesn’t pack the same accelerative punch as the Aston, let alone something like the 711-hp Porsche 911 Turbo S.
So: As comfortable and well-balanced as it is, is the Amalfi really just a cut-rate Ferrari?
NOT AT ALL! WHILE ITS V8 DOESN’T POSSESS the fiery character of the 296’s V6 or the enchanting timbre of the 12Cilindri’s V12, it plays a smooth, slightly throaty, and ultimately quite addictive tune.
And although the Amalfi doesn’t deliver knife-edge precision throughout an entire journey, it’s not due to a lack of dynamism. Rather, it’s because portraying the Amalfi as a fierce sports car would miss its true purpose: to introduce the world of Ferrari to new customers. Who, once they’ve become accustomed to turn signals mounted on the steering wheel, an invisible volume control (the rocker is hidden behind the left spoke of said steering wheel), and dropping the dual-clutch gearbox into neutral (by simultaneously pulling the two carbon-fiber shift paddles), they can experience the Amalfi’s Mr. Hyde side. This is not just an excellent GT, but a true Ferrari.
How does this translate? With unparalleled handling. The Amalfi’s rack and pinion is new, and the steering calibration is sportier than on the Roma. The electric power steering doesn’t offer the same responsiveness or feedback as its hydraulic counterpart in the McLaren Artura, but the driver perfectly feels the working of the two front wheels.
Canestri says Ferrari didn’t think it necessary to have rear-wheel steering, and I agree. With its quick-reacting front end and brand-new Goodyear Eagle F1 tires, the Amalfi doesn’t give up easily, even when the corner tightens. The car’s 50/50 weight distribution plays a significant role, as does the third-generation electronic differential. Capable of managing up to 776 lb-ft of torque |on either rear wheel, this computer-controlled, limited-slip differential inspires confidence when the pace picks up.
Clearly, Ferrari is breeding clever fleas. Not the kind that make you itch when your baser instincts resurface, but the kind that seamlessly and painlessly enhance the driving experience. [The French word la puce_, which means flea, is also slang for microchip.—Ed.]_
The newly recalibrated eight-speed transmission, which sometimes made me feel like I was on Xanax in the city, transforms into a Formula 1-level gearbox when the road permits. It slots into the next gear, with just the right amount of jolt to stimulate, before I even give the order. The correlation between accelerator pressure and dual-clutch transmission is brilliant—and that’s when you need to be sensible. While the Amalfi is a certified GT and a very fast coupe, it’s not a supercar.
On the sometimes deplorable Portuguese roads, the Ferrari occasionally felt unsettled, with overly soft rebound. Was it a tuning issue? No, just a reminder that this Prancing Horse is a well-trained stallion, not a thoroughbred bred to win races.
The reworked braking system (the Amalfi’s calipers, discs, and pads are identical to those of the Roma) requires the most adaptation from the driver. Its short travel is perfectly suited to sporty driving, but, especially when the suspension is unloaded, there’s sometimes too much assistance during deceleration, making it difficult to modulate the braking as easily as I would have liked. Once again, as with the steering, McLaren offers superior performance, although it’s a very close call.
All in all, the Amalfi isn’t the most Ferrari-like of Ferraris—but it can proudly display its handsome yellow badge without being accused of plagiarism. It’s agile without being overly so, and having the least powerful engine in the stable doesn’t make it any less desirable. I would have liked a more assertive engine character, but that would be forgetting that the Amalfi leaves mechanical ferocity to its more sporting siblings. And, for the combination of traveling fast, comfortably, and far, it’s something special.
