W211 Aston Martin DB11 '16

If pony cars and pickup trucks are cultural icons of the Americas that don't appeal or make sense to anyone else in the world, then I argue that the Grand Tourer is Europe's similarly wasteful and unwieldy counterpart. After all, what the heck am I supposed to do with a 1,770kg (3,902lbs) turbo V12 2 door coupé that not only has a longer wheelbase, but also weighs more than most four door sedans? Drive from Singapore to Russia with it? We have planes for that sort of nonsense.

DB11　AMR Edition by mshow1215 livery link (GTS)

I sure as hell am not taking it anywhere near a racetrack; with springs softer than muah chee without even the peanut sprinkles, the Aston Martin DB11 is similarly difficult to keep in shape on a racetrack. Wrangling the heavy, floppy car under some semblance of control feels like trying to grasp thick, wet and slippery noodles, and the car feeds back to the driver just about the same feedback, precision, and confidence as disposable chopsticks. I never really know how the car will react any time I turn the wheel or depress a pedal, and it struggles in equal measure with both oversteer and understeer. It's the sort of car that you have to drive with the next three or even four corners ahead in mind and set the car up accordingly even before they come into view, as the DB11 will lean as desperately as I'm leaning into my Asian heritage in this review if treated with any sudden or rough input. There is zero sophistication in how the DB11 tackles corners, so much so that it seems like corners tackle it rather than the other way around. It will kick up a fuss at unassuming, unnamed kinks in the road that are unnamed because they aren't corners in any other car, like the uphill left hander before Suzuka's Degner turns, where the DB11 is liable to kick its rear end out on an upshift from its lightning quick, but also rambunctiously rough ZF 8 speed gearbox. In short, I simply could not find any point to mentally relax on any track I took the DB11 to, because it seemingly finds ways to make mountains out of molehills and hairpins out of kinks. The driving experience of the DB11 on track is like materialising anxiety attacks, distilling them, and then sticking four wheels onto it and then calling it art.

Thing is, it's really hard to say if it's a good GT car or not, as we have so little in the game. It could be a really great handling GT car relative to its competition not in the game for all I know, and the DB11 for sure has some redeeming qualities to make a case for itself: It looks indisputably stunning for something of its size. The balance of the chassis is really nice when I'm not too busy freaking the hell out at trying to keep the car from spearing off into Australia. The turbo V12 has a very usable tabletop torque curve, and the gearbox is pretty quick. It comes in many colours, interior and exterior. Still, I really do wish it had a sport mode that at the very least stiffened the suspension to non–trecherous levels at speed, because as it stands right now, a V8 Vantage will more than harass it on twistier tracks, and a 2017 NSX will match it blow for blow on most balanced tracks despite the Honda carrying more mass with less power. Mind you, neither of those are out and out track toys in their own right. The NSX in particular I wrote a scathing review for because I found it too heavy, soft, and inconsistent, yet it felt like a racecar when ran alongside the DB11. The Vantage proves that Aston understands enthusiasts and can make cars that are properly exciting, and so it's doubly disappointing as someone who genuinely lusts after the Vantage to feel almost none of that spunk and eagerness inherited by the DB11, a flagship car ushering in a new era for Aston Martin.

If it's going to weigh as much as a plane and be just as cushy and costly, I'm just going to take a plane. Those can go faster than the DB11's claimed top speed of 192mph (309km/h).

W210 Huracán Gr.4

What is the secret behind speed on a racetrack? Is it assuring and trustworthy stability a driver can easily get used to and come to rely on? Or is it a loose, easy to maneuver car that can dance around opponents, and occasionally its own driver? If you were to pose that question to Lamborghini, I have a feeling their answer will be "yes", while presenting to you on one hand, the rock solid Huracán Gr.4, and on the other, the utterly diabolical Huracán GT3 '15.

The annoying conundrum here is that they're both wickedly fast in their respective categories, being mainstays on time attack leaderboards and podium finishes alike, all while being polar opposites in how they drive. Neither sibling requires an introduction, but the Huracán Gr.4 under the spotlight this week is the rock solid, stable Lambo of the two, one that most of us here at Car of the Week are already intimately familiar with, as my peers and I already have hundreds, if not thousands of kilometres on the odometers of our Huracán Gr.4s on race day. As you may have already surmised by now, familarity with the Huracán Gr.4 is a necessity, and mileage on the cars is a rite of passage, because for the longest time, it was an "auto win" car in Gr.4, and anyone not driving one in a Gr.4 race was just willfully running at a disadvantage—a huge one at that. So much so in fact, that even someone like me, who openly despises most Italian cars we've tested here in COTW, and who also happens to be artistically impaired, even designed a custom livery for my Huracán Gr.4!

To understand how a 1,365kg (3,009lbs) car with a detuned 404HP (301kW) can be such a menace, it's important to understand the category in which it resides: Gr.4. Gr.4 is, in the most polite manner of speaking as I can muster, an unadulterated, unabridged flustercuck of chaos and imbalance. That's just the reality of smashing together an FF hatchback Mégane, an FR 86 with weightless steering, and an AWD 5 speed Lan Evo all into the same category. It's precisely in this goop of barely regulated diversity that the Huracán flourishes, being blessed with the absolute best parts permissible within the slack Gr.4 regulations: a responsive and linear Naturally Aspirated 5.2L V10 engine slung aft the cockpit, sending power through a close ratio 7 speed sequential gearbox to all four wheels, wrapped up in a svelte, low cg, low drag package. At a glance, the Huracán simply has no weakness, no area in which it compromises, and thus one can only hope for tyre wear or Balance of Performance to rein in the Huracán if they end up racing one in something else.

Good luck waiting on either of those though. While most AWD cars chew through their front tyres with the hunger of a malnourished, rabid dog, the prizefighter raging bull has a much more balanced appetite, having a 42:58 weight distribution and a colon tangling 30:70 torque split, both of which largely rear biased to ensure that the front tyres last the whole course. Of course, AWD cars have a strong appetite not just for tyres, but for fuel as well. To this end, the Huracán retains the use of a 7 speed gearbox like its road going counterpart, which is one more gear than the vast majority of its peers in Gr.4, making it one of the very few cars arbitrarily blessed with an almost literal leg up in a category consisting of 6 speed NSXes and Corvettes. Not that the NA V10 was picky with revs to begin with—it has enough torque to lug from mid range no problem—but the seven speed box just means that the Huracán can save fuel by short shifting without sacrificing nearly as much speed as its NA compatriots.

Okay, how about we try outrunning the conservative car for track position then? Well, if the track is wet, forget it—the Huracán is easily the fastest and easiest Gr.4 car to drive in the wet, combining AWD stability and a rear midship agility without the mass and understeer of the Veyron, and guess what? Those are the only two rear mid engined, all wheel drive cars in Gr.4. In the dry? The featherweight and responsive front end will trace a neat line to the apex of any corner like only a rear mid engined car can with barely a hint of understeer, the sort that you as a driver subconsciously compensate for without even realising it, which is to say that you'll only note the understeer when jumping into or from something truly sublime. As you might expect from a car with understeer, the rear end of the Huracán Gr.4 never threatens any shenanigans on corner entry or exits. Power delivery? Don't even have to think about it—just gun it out of the corner; the AWD will hook you up almost literally, and the V10 engine has enough low end torque to lug from the mid range. When to upshift? Just rev it out, it's a NA V10. Downforce? Not enough to change the way you drive even in the slipstream of others. Kerbs? Don't feel them. It's such a rock solid and consistent drive in any situation, I almost want to say it's brain dead easy.

So what is it, then? If it's not its lack of longevity, not its handling, then surely the weakness of a Huracán lies in how it's been balanced by Balance of Performance, right? It HAS to be massively slow in the straights to compensate for its brilliant handling and superb longevity à la the 86 and Cayman, right? Surely no car without a Ferrari badge can be so blatantly favoured in a sanctioned racing category, right? Well, what better way to find out than to bring said Ferrari? You know what they say: Ima beat a fothermucker with another fothermucker! Or something!

Similarly Italian with its naturally aspirated rear mid mounted engine hooked up to a 7 speed box, Ferrari's elegant and svelte 458 Gr.4 trades brashness and AWD for a more elegant design and the aforementioned truly sublime turn–in, but can the Ferrari sashay its red buttock ahead of the raging bull when the cheque-

Yeah I'm not even going to bother finishing that sentence. No way in HELL can the 458 compete with the Huracán. I just wish I knew that prior race day! The Ferrari has actually been bopped to compensate for its razor sharp handling and stellar longevity, resulting in it losing out on both power and mass to the Huracán with BoP applied, and not even by just a little bit, either! Yes, the 2 wheel drive car has less power and more mass than the AWD car when raced in the same category. Why? Hell if I know, ask PD! The result of all this shenanigans is that the 458 barely gains at all in the slipstream of the Huracán, and can't hold off the raging bulls' charges even in the corners despite having a sharper front end. It was such an abysmal matchup that I couldn't even beat Baron's beached Bolognese bull to the line at Big Willow coming out of the final turn on the last lap! The Huracán is so disgustingly quick, it makes a Ferrari of all things look ethical!

So... Huracán perfect car, then? Why did I say that the Huracán "was" an auto–win car? Well, the Huracán fell out of favour because the type of races we have in Sport Mode changed; wear rates were exaggerated and pit loss times were elongated, shifting the tides and funneling drivers into the most fuel and tyre efficient car, the Mégane Trophy. That, plus the fact that PD suddenly decided to comically boost the power and drop the mass of FF cars in Gr.4 to be completely untouchable in races that didn't have any wear enabled (i.e. Daily Race B). Due to these extreme circumstances, Gr.4 races began to revolve around one trick ponies that performed their one trick better than any other steed in the stable, and it was just a matter of selecting which one trick the race demanded. Due to the Huracán not being the best in any single area, it just feels lost and purposeless for the first time in its life, a sad reflection of its category more than an indication of the car's capabilities. Make no mistake though—as a complete package, I argue that there isn't a single car in Gr.4 that can even come close to fantasising about being as good as the Huracán, and if I could only drive one Gr.4 car for the rest of the game's life, I would pick it. If dynamic and unpredictable weather ever becomes more prominent in Gran Turismo 7's Sport Mode races, there may well be a resurgence in hurricane warnings around every track the Huracán finds itself at.

W209 Mazda Atenza Sedan XD L package '15

"Oh boy here it comes!", you're probably thinking. "XSquare is here to white knight a slow ass boring Mazda saying how we don't understand its appeal, citing some inane trivia, and then sharing some of his boring IRL experiences with the car while simping some Japanese girl who owns one before calling it the best car in the entire series of Gran Turismo, past, present, and future. Why do I have to scroll through this guy's crap to get to a valid opinion?"

広島カープ赤ヘル応援タクシー by XSquareStickIt livery link (GTS | GT7)

...except, no, not really. The Atenza is slow, boring, and completely useless in the e–sports centric title of Gran Turismo Sport, easily being the slowest N200 car in the game, stock or tuned. I have not come into contact with one IRL, nor do I know of any attractive Japanese woman that owns one. In–game, if you just want the experience or novelty of driving a diesel road car, the Mazda Demio is much lighter, maneuverable, cheaper, and has a manual. For nearly 40,000 Credits, you might as well just save up for a WRX STi, a much lighter and powerful sedan. At the end of the day, it's a car Alex picked, what did you expect?

But, the "but" changeover point comes very quickly in this review, almost as quickly as the Atenza revs from idle to its peak torque rpm of just 2,000rpm, because I think in this context, being boring is a compliment. To first lay out all the cards on the table, the Atenza is a full size premium(ish) sedan that makes only 172HP from a soulless, filthy diesel engine while weighing in at a whopping 1,600kg (3,527lbs), an uncomfortable 63% of which rests over the front axle. That it can even manage to be boring at all instead of being comically catastrophic to drive on a racetrack is in itself a feat worthy of praise, I think.

In fact, the sheer neutrality of this thing on a racetrack would shame some cars whose marketing departments would like you to believe are sporty. Slam on the brakes and chuck this gorgeous lump into a corner, and there is none of that protesting, hands in the air surrender understeer that plagues even some supercars we've tested here in Car of the Week—at least, not initially. The Atenza mostly complies with any reasonable request made of it, and it will hook up and bite apexes no problem with the right driving techniques. Of course, it's not invincible, but the beauty of how the Atenza handles is in how it lets go: slowly, steadily, and with plenty of buildup and warning, communicating with the driver every step of the way and giving them plenty of outs before the car completely lets go. That's usually praise reserved for some of the best sports cars ever made, like the 86 and Roadster. In similar vein to those acclaimed sports cars, the soft suspension and slow acceleration of the Atenza combine to become a valuable tool to teach a beginner driver about weight transfer and the value of momentum, but unlike your typical RWD sports cars, the Atenza won't bite at all if you get something wrong, making it an ideal car to start learning about driving fast in.

So, what's a 172HP AWD inert lump like once it does let go? To be honest, I can't much tell you, because the Atenza is so difficult to upset and lets go so slowly and with so much buildup, you'd have to be a proper Muppet on a road trip to meet your local friendly Barry R. to get the Atenza to bite back. The only time I've gotten into trouble with it is at Paddock Hill of Brand's Hatch, where the softly sprung car is already severely off balance being trail braked, only to have the road suddenly fall away from the car. That was the only instance in the whole night that I've looped the Atenza around, and that only happened because the car was so stable everywhere else, Paddock Hill was truly a freak exception that caught me by surprise. Oh, and it was wearing Sport Hard tyres way too grippy for its stock suspension on race day, subjecting the car to way more gs than intended, and Paddock Hill was the only corner the car gave up at. For reference, the car comes default with Comfort Medium tyres in GT7, two whole compounds less grippy than the Sport Hard tyres GTS defaults most production cars to.

Being a high end XD Grade, the 40,000 Credits Mazda asks of you for the privilege of owning their flagship sedan notably nets you Mazda's invaluable Active Driving Display, a pop–up glass panel atop the dashboard onto which the most important tidbits of information when driving, such as the car's speed and nav directions, are projected. It's a feature I genuinely wish were on every modern car. On the motorsports side of things, you get paddle shifters and AWD too, which carries over to the Atenza Gr.3 Road Car, making it the fastest accelerating and fastest shifting homologation car in the game, while the optional AWD saves Mazda the indignity of having its sole representative of Gr.4 be FF, as the Atenza Gr.4 is similarly AWD,, though the pros and cons of having AWD in this game is a whole 'nother warehouse of worms best opened another day.

Overall, the Atenza is a very composed, neutral, predictable, and communicative car to toss around a racetrack. It won't belt out a soulful orchestra, nor will it kick out its rear end playfully, and yes, it's a little soft and awfully slow for track use, all of which means it's a very sedate experience even when put through its paces. But that's more than okay, more than fine, it's great; not everyone wants to stand out or be the centre of attention. Some petrolheads know what they have and is content to quietly enjoy it instead of having to shout it out to their neighbours with pops and bangs. Oh and if you think it has absolutely zero performance credentials to boast about, it does casually outrun a 1.5L ND Roadster around most tracks if both cars are wearing the same tyre compounds. That I think is precisely what it means to be a modern Mazda: completely unambiguous to everyone else, but always worth hustling for the one behind the wheel, and the package of such opposites I find is such an incredible feat, especially considering that the Atenza can be had with an auto or manual, a gasoline or diesel engine, a sedan or wagon body style, FF or AWD, or any combination of the above (in Japan, anyway...). I think it's criminally easy to overlook how important and enthusiastic Mazda's presence in the automotive industry is today, and every time I get in one, I'm just pleasantly surprised. And you know what? If this is the worst Alex can do, I think we're going to be okay for a while.

...until we finally transition into GT7, that is. But Alex is NEVER getting to pick a Car of the Week come GT7. MUUHAHAHA!

W207 Mercedes-Benz A 45 AMG 4Matic '13

Alright, show of hands: who didn't even remember that this car is in the game?

I, for one, forgot. The 2013 Mercedes-Benz A 45 AMG 4Matic has a knack for eluding attention, even if taken out of the context of an e–sports focused game that largely ignores German sleepers. It doesn't have flared fenders, bonnet bulges, or fat exhaust pipes that are the rare but typical giveaways of souped up German performance, and even IF they're there, they're so subtle that I can't tell at all. I mean, for gosh's sake, even the "4Matic" in its name just makes it sound like it has a 4 speed automatic gearbox geared towards grandpas driving from the retirement home to their graves during morning peak hour jams, too scared to pass a cooperative cyclist. It simply isn't a shouty car that wants to be noticed. In fact, the only thing that even hints at the enthusiasts' intent underneath would be the utterly ridiculous 19 inch wheels optional on the AMG, an inch up from the standard items. I'm sure there are more giveaways to the trained eye, but by and large, the A45 is so good at making me forget that there's a 355HP (264kW) AWD hatchback lurking in this game that, even if I do remember its existence, it just ends up as background prop to populate a photo featuring another car.

At this point, I might become the GTS' version of SomePlayaDude, and my JCW Countryman is the Cayman GT4.

...if you didn't get that reference, you really ought to check out FH5's COTW thread, which has been pretty great so far.

So, the A45 AMG has got insane performance and a talent for flying under the radar. Sounds exactly like the sort of car we here at Car of the Week are all about, then?

To drive, the A45 AMG shows similar grace to its beautiful interior. Despite packing 50 more HP than the next most powerful hatch, the FK2 Civic Type R, the A45 never sweats putting all its power down to the road at any moment it's asked to in the dry. Of course, it's got AWD which helps to do just that—that's what the "4Matic" in its name stands for and I definitely knew that before writing this review okay?! But, even by AWD standards, the A45 AMG puts down power gracefully and effortlessly like a Mercedes ought to. I never got any inkling of the car struggling, any tyre chirps under power from any corner or anything of the sort, that would signify the car struggling to put down its power. Rather, the car simply understeers vehemently when the throttle pedal is pressed too much, putting all the cards back in your hands by forcing you to lift off that way, making the driver feel like the inept tool in the whole situation while it barely breaks its graceful demeanour. And don't think it puts power down neatly by hiding its 355HP behind a peaky powerband either, as a turbocharged 1,991cc engine having to make 178HP per litre is well entitled to do, because this M133 Inline 4 makes its peak torque of 450Nm (331.9lbf⋅ft) from 2,500rpm, and holds it all the way in a plateau till the power curve overtakes the torque table at 5,252rpm.

As you can probably already piece together by this point, the price to pay for that graceful power and effortless destruction of its hot hatch rivals is in... well, the price tag, yes, but much more so in the corners, I'd argue. The A45 may have 50 more HP to the next hatch in the game, but it's also 175kg (386lbs) heavier as well while costing around 50% more than an FK2 CTR. It is, after all, an understated luxury cruiser instead of a shouty track toy, and nowhere is that more clearly shown than in how soft the suspension setup is, which in my opinion is much more damning on track than its 1,555kg (3,428lbs) mass. It is definitely not a car set up with any sporting intent in mind, with just enough composure to make sure the car doesn't roll or spin out, nothing more. What that translates to in layman terms is "horrible, never ending understeer", which, when further translated into legal speak, means that "if you try to sue Mercedes for an accident in the A45 AMG, know that you don't have a case at all: the car was stable and composed; you clearly went in too fast". This I find is such an oddity, because the only telltale sign of this car's performance I can pick out is the ridiculously large wheels and accompanying low profile tyres barely hugging them, which you would think was intentionally fitted for more precise control and feel for the suspension so that they can work some real magic. On the contrary, the suspension is just... limp. Look, if I'm going to end up with a limp car anyway, can I just have softer, normal sized tyres and wheels and a stiffer suspension instead of the other way around? If you're going to make a car look understated and stealthy, why give it ridiculous looking wheels and puncture prone tyres?

To be fair, the A45 AMG isn't hopelessly terrible in the corners. To borrow a recurring quote from Pickle, the A45 is "still better than the MiTo" in the suspension department. The A45 as a whole doesn't excessively squirm, roll, or seemingly contort and decompose when pushed hard in a corner; it very much keeps its composure. It's just that there's annoyingly enough give in the suspension to take away any and all sense of control and feedback when this big red metal slug is thrown hard into a turn, and there's only a tiny friction circle to work with from the 235mm tyres up front. All that results in is the most frustrating kind of understeer that would kill any hope of a car becoming an enthusiast's pick: the kind you can't do a damn thing about other than to sit on your ARTICO man-made leather seat and wait in excruciating pain while the car slows down enough and regains grip to pull itself out of the sand trap. It has an okay initial turn–in, but at longer, wider corners that make up most paved racetracks, the A45 will struggle, with its unwillingness becoming uncomfortably clear at high speed sweepers such as the Schumacher S of Nürb GP.

Despite the 40:60 torque split and light rear end of the A45 might lead one to believe, the A45 has zero tail happiness to help with that understeer. In fact, it feels like it actively hates that side of itself and fights to hide it from the rest of the world, and it's very successful in that regard. Even in the few off road whoopsies I've had which has broken out the rear end, the car corrects itself almost instantly even when encouraged otherwise with throttle input and steering in the direction of the slide. I'd say the car is idiot proof if idiots can be trusted with a 64,000 Credit, 355HP, 250km/h capable, flame spitting monster.

That said, once you get used to braking early and taking corners slowly, there aren't many hot hatches in the game that can even dream of keeping up with the unbridled power of the Merc. In fact, I think only the GR Yaris can beat the A45 in lap times around Tsukuba, going by Alex's hot lap videos. Combined with its idiot proof handling, understated styling, and that pleasant interior, the A45 AMG is a tool for a comically casual destruction of the hot hatch competition. It is for someone who's had enough of trying, and just wants to win. As much as it's an unsportsmanlike thing to say, I think I'm at the age where I can understand that mentality. Even more frightening than that however, is that I truly think that there's a lot of optimisation that can be done handling wise with just its suspension setup that can unlock even more speed from the Red Slug. I mean, a much older R34 GT-R that is similarly AWD, comparable weight distribution, but with less power, more mass, and even softer suspension does just effortlessly leave the A45 in the dust around Tsukuba. Even though the A45 is a gentlemen's nuke, I think it is more than capable of becoming a genuine sports car if tuned right. Someone just has to take the initiative after being reminded that it exists in the game and told of its untapped potential.

W205 Toyota 86 Gr.4

Just like the Z33 featured last week, the Toyota 86 is a front engine, rear drive, two door sports car in a lineup that has faster two door sports cars. Unlike the Z however, the 86's place in its company is very clear, being the lightweight, low powered, fun to drive, pure and simplistic sports car of its family tree, and one I much prefer over its more expensive sibling. That said, the 86's role in the Toyota family is much more evident in the context of this e–sports focused title, Gran Turismo Sport, being the sole representative of Toyota in Gr.4 events owing to the elusive Supra Gr.4's unavailability in FIA events.

In fact, even among the 28–strong list of Gr.4 cars in this game, the 86 Gr.4 stands out. Unlike its low effort fictional brethren that sports featureless interiors and generic race displays, the 86 Gr.4 instead lifts its interior from the #166 Toyota GAZOO Racing TOYOTA 86 that raced in the SP3 class of the 2012 24 Hours of Nürburgring, a car that has appeared in Gran Turismo 6. Sporting a colourful red bucket seat, the road car's original tach, Gazoo Racing steering wheel, fully functional gauge clusters that display pressures and temperatures, and even a 6 speed stick shifter as opposed to paddle shifters on the steering column, the 86 Gr.4 has a very strong and authentic presence in any setting that sets it apart from the barely inspired fictional Gr.4 competition, be it simply sitting in a garage or lining up on a grid.

On the track, the 86 Gr.4 stays true to the calling of the road car on which it's based; featherweight, agile, gentle on tyres and fuel, easy to toss around, but utterly lacking in straight line pace. Making 358HP (266kW) from its 2L Boxer 4 without the aid of forced induction before BoP takes its 1% cut, the powerband of the 86 Gr.4 is smooth and linear, making peak power just 1,000rpm before its 8,000rpm redline. However, this also means that short shifting to save fuel costs the car a lot of its grunt, and it's totally hopeless from a standing start, being totally unable to spin any racing slick tyres in the dry. So gutless is it in fact, it completely falls flat once pulled out of a fellow 86's slipstream, aligning their speeds together without first putting the nose of the chasing car past the rear fender of the leading car. Overtaking another identically specced 86 in a one make race is difficult enough a task as a result, let alone another Gr.4 car—It gets out launched and out dragged by a Cayman GT4 with BoP applied. That... might have been the single most heinous thing I've ever written in a review, despite meaning no malice.

But of course, no one drives an 86 expecting to crush the competition with raw power; they expect a lightweight, corner craving, cooperative steed that will let them out dance their opponents in a dramatic show of skill and tyre smoke backed by Eurobeat and badly drawn 2D women. To this end, the 86 Gr.4 largely delivers, being so natural and easy in the corners, I rarely had to fight the car to force it into doing more of something it wasn't doing enough, or correct it from doing something I didn't expect. It was so just so neutral, natural, and agile, it felt like the car could read my mind at times. The last four turns of Tokyo South Inner Loop, the right–left–right–left into the main straight, felt less like maneuvering a 1,200kg (2,646lbs) hunk of metal through a series of bends and more like simply being one with the water of a river gently flowing around the rocks in its way; it barely felt like it was something I had to actively affect at all. Any hyperbole or cliché in the book you can hurl at the 86 Gr.4, it will live up to it and then some. In fact, here's one more hyperbole to throw into the pile: Tackling corners in the 86 Gr.4 is simply effortless.

...way too much so for its own good.

Remember that part about "smoke"? This is where that comes in; for some reason I can't fathom, the steering feel of the 86 Gr.4 is uncannily light, almost as if something was broken in my Logitech G29, and I even had to jump ship to my Cayman GT4 just to make sure it wasn't a hardware issue on my end. I usually try to refrain from commenting on steering feel in my reviews because the Force Feedback in the Gran Turismo series has always been notoriously lacking, but the 86's steering feel is decidedly off even in the context of Gran Turismo, almost as if someone forgot to program it for the 86 Gr.4. As I said before, the 86 corners effortlessly, but a large part of that might be down to how light the steering wheel is. As a consequence, there is nearly no feel, no feedback at all from the steering wheel when driving the 86 Gr.4 at the limit. I never know what the tyres are doing when push finally comes to shove, or if they are even in contact with the road when going over crests of hills or bumps and rumble strips, which has led me to explore alternative offroad routes in every paved racing circuit I brought my 86 to, even the ones I'm intimately familiar with like Bathurst. Driving an 86 Gr.4 feels almost like meeting a romantic partner on a blind date, with whom I share amazing chemistry and get along super well with, only for them to completely ghost me at the altar come wedding day. It's utterly bizarre and downright disgusting how quickly it earns the trust of its driver, egging them to trash it harder, only to completely go limp on them at the worst of times when we need that communication the most.

I know Igor Fraga might prove the following statement I'm about to make wrong at any given moment, but I genuinely think the 86 Gr.4 is WAY too slow to make any sort of impression in a field of Gr.4 cars, especially if tyres and fuel aren't an issue in the race. Simply as a plaything, the obscene lack of steering feel immediately makes it an awful car despite its sharp and otherwise intuitive handling. I genuinely think that it'd be a strong contender for the title of "Driving Nirvana" in my head, currently held by the Cayman GT4 Clubsport, if the steering feel were to be fixed. For friends who have followed this thread for years, they'd know just how deeply I love my Cayman GT4 CS, and in turn, how high a praise that would've been. For now, I'd much rather drive the Supra Gr.4 if I for some odd reason need to drive a Toyota Gr.4 car, because much like the 86, it's a well balanced, corner craving handling machine with no straight line grunt. Last I checked, the Supra Gr.4 actually has steering feel too. Funny how Toyota is blessed with having two cars in the spartan Gr.4 category, and they're both set up to have the exact same strengths and weaknesses. Baffling.

Toyota GR Supra Nur24h 2019 #90 by yn221 livery link (GTS)

Team Gazoo Racing by seshibon1640 livery link (GTS)

W204 Nissan Fairlady Z Version S (Z33)

Just like the Camaro and Challenger of Chevy and Dodge, I never really understood what the point of a Z car is, being a heavier and more unwieldy 2 door sports car in a lineup that has faster 2 door sports cars. However, the 5th generation of the Fairlady Z, known as the Z33 in Japan or the 350Z elsewhere, was produced from 2002–2008, almost as if a tailor–made stopgap to tide over Nissan fans who had to make do without a GT-R in the showrooms for a very peculiar period in the brand's history. And so the question naturally becomes, "how good is it?"

S-Tune Red by SomePlayaDude livery link (GTS)

By contemporary standards, the Z33 is a bit of a porker, weighing in at 1,480kg (3,263lbs) in Version S trim. However, you wouldn't ever guess it with how flat and neutral this thing behaves in a corner. The springs gave me some E46 M3 levels of shock and awe in how well gauged it is, allowing for just the right amount of body movement to put weight on a relevant tyre, and nothing more. If you had told me the springs are some costly Nismo aftermarket items, I'd have believed every word of it and told you in return that they were worth every cent!

Not only that, the car as a whole has been set up to be incredibly stable, nigh impossible to upset in the dry—quite the feat to pull off considering the 2007 model year had been revised with an output bump of 34HP from "276HP" to 310HP (231kW). While stability is usually euphemism for "so much hand–holding understeer it crushes your hands and will to live" in modern RWD cars, the Z33 actually handles quite neutrally, with the only hints of understeer being gradually peppered into the experience instead of being passively dominated by it. It will understeer slightly on power, yes, but what you'll really have to watch for is the understeer when trail braking. It stops well, but it also asks of drivers to turn in early for a corner and trail brake it well, because there's only so much you can ask of the slim 225mm tyres up front, with 53% of the car's weight pressing over them at rest. Trail braking for a corner then, requires early turn in and proper technique, lest the car sails right past the apex. That's not to say it's incapable, but you just have to drive it the way it wants to be driven, which is in a rather measured and calm way, making it rather unconducive for racing and overtakes, I find. But, there is a lot of overlap between "calm" and "relaxed", and soon I found myself in a very comfortable zone, a sort of "zen", to borrow again from the FH5 COTW thread. And in that mental zone, I found the Z33 to be a very predictable, fun drive, the sort I might enjoy as a retired old fart that wants to keep pace sometimes... not that I'm very far off from that mentally right now, but still.

So, how good is the Z33? Surprisingly, very! It may look completely unassuming, and even fat and awkward at times, but it utterly destroyed my shouty Evo X in practice around Yamagiwa, owing to the Z having more power and less mass. That put things into context yet? The Z33 is such a sleeper that it actively flew under my radar for well over a decade, and the only reason how I found out about its prowess is because I was made to drive it for COTW and then had the bright idea of running an Evo against it. If you thought that German offerings were your only options when it comes to understated performance cars, then that's just a testament to how subtle and unassuming the Z33 is, and you'll do well to not make any further mistakes of underestimating it henceforth.

And so that's the one question of, "how good is the Z33?" answered, then! But what if we were to ask more questions? "Is the Z33 good enough to carry a brand?" "How does it compare to a GT-R?"

Mine's R33 GT-R Magia Record by redmist223 livery link (GTS)

Well okay, the R33 V • spec completely destroys the Z33 with more power and AWD. An R32 would've been a closer comparison, but "R33 vs Z33" just sounds snazzier in writing, and no wannabe writer would ever pass that up. Even after taking 3% of the R33's power out of the car and keeping everything else stock, I was very much keeping up with the Z33s around Tokyo South, and I think I had a very good shot at winning the race outright had there been one more lap. Around Tsukuba, an unmodified R33 was more than a second a lap quicker than the Z33, and most of that pace difference was in the corner exit, where the less understeery, AWD car could put down power quicker and easier.

BUT, that is not to say that it was an easy win in the GT-R. Having just jumped out of the Z33 prior, the R33 was a huge shock to my system, as suddenly I had to deal with the insane tail happiness of the R33 that the Z never once bothered me with. While I was relaxed and zen in the Z, I was boarderline panicking and hyper vigilant in the R33 with every downshift I made. I also had to think about where I shifted the turbocharged RB engine of the GT-R, as its power completely dips off way before redline, whereas the Z's powerplant is simply a peach to operate, having ample low end torque and hiding its 310HP near redline at 7,000rpm. In other words, it was an engine that just begs to have its nuts revved off, and it sounds pretty good wherever you're at. The Z, despite being the RWD car in this comparison, was much, much easier to drive than its AWD older brother, and that I think is really saying something.

So in conclusion, the Z33 is almost as fast as an almost R34 running at almost max power. Is there a point to running the R33 against the Z33? Not really. At least, I didn't do it thinking there'd be a point. But, thanks to that race, I think I now finally understand the Z's place in the Nissan lineup. The GT-R is the cruise missile of the Nissan lineup, whose only purpose is to destroy anything in its path. The Z on the other hand, is an understated grand tourer that has way more sporting DNA and capabilities than any grand tourer has the right to have, and this crazy old fart here thinks it's a more entertaining drive than an R35.

W196

So um... quick warning before this piece commences: it's really negative, to the point where even I hesitate to put this out in public. I just... haven't put out a review in weeks now and I feel guilty for it, and driving the Aventador made my mood that much worse.

"It feels like Lamborghini doesn't get chosen that often so why not bring out the SV", says Racer. Well, they don't get chosen that often because we all know they're hot garbage.

AVENTADOOR SV　ミウラオマージュedition by mshow1215 livery link (GTS)

It's a Lamborghini! It's their flagship car! It's a lightened, more powerful, winged version of their flagship car! You'd think all that would make the Aventador LP 750-4 Superveloce a car that is amazing enough to make anyone crap hexagonal vents and doors. But, even Lamborghini themselves don't seem to hold the Aventador to such high regard. After all, why is it that their record–setting GT3s, Performantes, and STOs are all Huracáns instead of Aventadors? I mean, sure, the Aventador was the base for several reskins into cars costing thrice its price, such as the god–awful Veneno, but that's hardly much to shout about, is it? It appears to me that, when Lamborghini needs to peacock, they use the Aventador, and when things actually need to be done, they call upon the Huracán. And that is exactly how I would describe the driving experience of the Aventador SV.

Yes, the Aventador SV has a NA V12 boasting over 700HP and revs over 8,000rpm. Noise and straight line speed have never been a problem with Lamborghinis—the problems arise when they have to shut up and stop, because the Aventador will ask of its drivers to be hard on the brakes at distances where most drivers won't even begin to think about approaching said corner, much less be setting their car up for it. To give just a few examples of how freaking long the Aventador requires to adequately slow for a corner and hit its apex, here are some of the things I had to do on race day while running Sport Medium tyres, an upgrade over the Sport Hard tyres that it comes default with in GTS, and the default tyres for the car in GT7:

• Turn 1 of Sardegna A: Brake on the uphill leading to T1, well before the crest of the hill, i.e. before you even come close to seeing the corner you're braking for.

• Turn 1 of DT Seaside: No, I don't mean the left–right chicane; I mean the gentle right kink that leads to said chicane. You need to lift for that to hold a narrower line going into the braking zone for T2.

• Bus stop of DT Seaside: Usually, cars need to brake only for the second set of chicanes for the bus stop at DTS, a.k.a. the "Chicane of Death". In the Aventador, you'll need to brake for the first set, an inconsequentially gentle right–left.

• Tokyo South Inner: you know that high speed right kink in the middle of the tunnel, right before the roof of the tunnel opens up? The Aventador will need to brake for that. You know what doesn't have to brake for that? A freaking Challenger Hellcat weighing 455 kilos more, with its engine up front, and two more doors.

Braking points on a track can certainly be memorised, if you like to drive in the same way us Asian kids are told to study for exams, and can somehow find these charades fun and fulfilling. But if the front tyres of a car can't slow it quick enough, it certainly won't turn the car, either. The Aventador understeers as though it were allergic to apexes of corners and has a self–destructive fetish for the outside barriers of any track. It's not just the front end of the car, either, but the whole car feels glued to its axis under braking, as the rear end feels like a lifeless carcass that cannot be coaxed into showing any signs of life, such as rotating into a corner under braking and corner entry. You might be thinking at this point, "well yeah, most modern supercars are set up with hand–holding understeer in their suspension setup because the people rich enough to afford these prohibitively expensive cars generally speaking don't have the driving skills to keep themselves out of trouble", and you're right about that.

...except the Aventador also oversteers on power in spite of having AWD and a spiteful suspension setup heavily biased towards understeer. I suppose that oversteer out of slow corners can be quite fun, in the same way that having a beautiful nurse tend to you when you contract anal cancer is fun, because the AWD can quickly "cure" the slide with not very tricky throttle modulation. The fatalities arise when you fight the understeer on high speed kinks that aren't even corners to any other car, such as the left kink on the back straight of Sardegna A, where I've had the Aventador step out on me at speeds in excess of 250km/h, and when it snaps at that speed, hoo boy, you better be prepared for some Fun, with a capital F. If this is supposed to be "improved aerodynamics" over the base Aventador, god forbid anyone drive that. Don't think that that's just a problem I have, either, because here's a photo of me losing the rear end on said kink, and RX8 mirroring my exact mishaps just a few metres down the road.

At this point, you might say to me, "Whatever Square you're just a hater because you're poor, can't afford these cars, are born in the wrong place given your passion, and have had your hopes and dreams so thoroughly crushed and every initiative and idea shot down before you in every waking moment of your life and now you're a mentally scarred degenerate who is completely disconnected from society, can't fantasise, or feel happiness anymore, whose resultant cynicism lends itself well to critiquing the one thing you know, cars, without offering any solutions to that which you critique." First of all, ouch, who are you and how do you know so much. Second of all, driving the Aventador put me in a bad mood and made me say things I wish I hadn't. Yes, it's the car's fault. Rob even said it before I did, "this car makes me angry". And third, even when removing my cynicism from the mix, what does it say about the Aventador SV when it:

• Got consistently spanked by a Nissan VGT of all things, which has 42 HP less and weighs 50kg more;

• Struggles to fend off a third gen Ford GT with half its cylinders, ballasted up to match the SV's mass, while having a hundred less HP, lacking AWD, and not even in track mode;

• Couldn't shake off a Grand Touring car, the SLS AMG, boosted up to the 622HP of the Black Edition with none of the other Black Edition enhancements, resulting in the car still having over 100HP less than the Aventador?

And yes, in case you hadn't picked up on it from the photos up to this point, most of us jumped ship from the Aventador on race day, because no one wanted to drive it.

Also, have I pointed out how it costs 1.2 million credits for some reason? As GT7 has more clearly demonstrated, GT credits are a 1:1 replica of the Japanese Yen, divided by 100 in international releases to roughly equal the US dollar, with Kaz even going so far as to consult Hagerty for the sale prices of classic cars. Real world prices of the Aventador SV start at around half a million USD before options according to Autotrader. Unless you're telling me "options" can more than double the price of a half million dollar supercar, the Aventador SV is a straight up rip–off in GTS, though it does cost exactly half a million in GT7 like it should. And for 1.2 million, whomever specced the Aventador PD scanned couldn't even afford the factory option SV decals? What, the 6.5L V12, garish styling, and rear wing are subtle enough, but an SV decal on the SV car is going too far? I usually try to refrain from being this mean in writing I share publicly, but is the owner of this Aventador a complete buffoon? Do they need help?

Lamborghinis don't get chosen often, because no one chooses a Lamborghini; they end up with it. The Aventador SV is a trophy car. It looks pretty, but is useless for being anything other than showing off and being paperweight.