That’s the key to the engine and to the whole car. It’s smooth and sophisticated, calm and glorious. The default in town is to push the Sport button just ahead of the gear lever, which makes the gearshifts faster, but importantly shortens the exhaust’s path to the outside world and makes public theatre out of every scrap of the engine’s exertion. It’s unendingly compelling.
It’s also unendingly loud, so it’s best to switch off the Sports mode on highways, lest you fancy headache tablets, but it also helps it to deliver astonishing throttle response at all engine speeds, especially adjusting the car’s stance in a corner.
It spins so smoothly that it often catches you (in its manual mode, shifting with the enormous, steering column-mounted carbon fibre paddles) by crashing into the braaap-braaap-braaap limiter. No German soft limiters here.
All of that just brings unwanted attention to the transmission. It is bearable when you are cruising, and it should be, with two overdriven gears. It’s not necessarily the number of gears, but it’s always reactive, like it’s behind the game.
It helps that, with a 2,942mm wheelbase, the 4,920mm coupe rides better than it probably should, even though the MC might suffer on some roads because it dispenses with the Gran Turismo’s active dampers for a firmer fixed-rate setup.
The list of stuff the facelift does better is pretty short, based mostly around the entertainment system and the bragging rights of crossing the 300km/h threshold.
But the best parts are its heart and soul, and they’re unchanged. Nothing wrong with that.