Chery Tiggo 8 PRO MAX vs Ferrari 812

What's the difference?

This mid-sized seven-seat SUV segment is dominated by just a handful of nameplates, and it’s easy to see how some of them might be under threat by something like the Chery Tiggo 8 Pro Max.

There are a few areas where it could use some fine-tuning, but these are mainly restricted to being pedantic about the drive experience. There are no dealbreakers here as there often can be for low-cost alternatives, and so long as you’re primarily putting kids in the back seats, this Tiggo is well equipped, comfortable, plush, and surprisingly refined.

With a robust ownership proposition as well, it’s hard to see why you wouldn’t consider one of these if you’re shopping in the seven-seat SUV space - and that's why this could be Chery's shot at the big leagues.

Clearly, this is not a car for everyone, and you’d have to question whether it’s a car for anyone, really, but people who like spending $610,000 on Ferraris, and waiting in a queue to do so, will be delighted, because it delivers the kind of exclusivity, and bragging rights, that you’d have to hope a car called Superfast would.

Personally, it’s a little too much, a little too over the top and definitely too mad, but if rockets are your thing, you won’t be disappointed.

The Tiggo 8 Pro Max just looks like a mid-size SUV. Perhaps if you calculated the average design cues of every mid-size SUV on the market, this would be what you end up with.

Of all the Chinese automakers currently in the market though, the Tiggo range of SUVs are the least controversial. There’s no weird theme to the design, there’s no bizarre light fittings or controversial angles. You could stick a badge on this car from any Korean or Japanese brand and you wouldn’t think twice about it.

It doesn’t say much for innovation, but I think it will very much work in this car's favour. It provides a much more globally appealing look when compared to the controversial design of BYD products, the crazy grilles and badging on GWM products, or the derivative style of the MG range.

For this reason it won’t turn heads at the school drop-off, but that’s perfect for families who want to run incognito and would normally buy a conservative mainstream SUV from Toyota or Mitsubishi.

Inside things get a bit more interesting. The Tiggo 8 has a contemporary design, complete with a high-riding bridge-style console, and the dual-screens are encased in a single housing that spans half the length of the dash.

It’s ambitious too, with generous amounts of soft-touch surfaces and synthetic leather finishes. Clearly, it’s inspired by others in the industry. The dual-screen layout is very Hyundai or Kia via Mercedes, while the Benz influence extends to the wood grain-look plastic inserts and even the little silver finishes covering the speakers up. Rather than a naff knock-off though, the Chery interior genuinely feels its own space.

The only areas that you can see through the facade to a car built-to-a price is in a handful of places. The steering wheel buttons, for instance, feel a bit cheap, and when it comes to those big screens, the resolution isn’t as high as you might expect, and the processing isn’t as fast as it could be, leading to a slightly laggy experience.

Still, the same can be said for many mainstream manufacturers, and at least Chery’s native software has been localised and is easy to navigate. Also, none of this stops the Chery from feeling properly plush on the inside. It was also seemingly pretty well put together, free of rattles, switchgear with too much play, or nasty hollow plastics.

First impressions are good.

It’s very… big, isn’t it? And it looks even bigger in the flesh with a bonnet you could use to put a roof over your tennis court. In all, the Superfast is 4.6m long, almost 2.0m wide and weighs 1.5 tonnes, so it certainly has presence.

Making something this big look good is a challenge even for those as talented as Ferrari’s design team, but they have nailed it. The front has what appears to be a mouth, poised to swallow lesser cars whole like some whale shark Terminator. 

The bonnet appears to be flaring its nostrils, and looks fabulous from the driver’s seat, and the swooping side and taut rear complete things nicely.

Personally, it still just looks too big to be a Ferrari, but then this is not a mid-engined super car, it’s a grand touring rocket ship, and the ultimate expression of unnecessary excess, and it pulls off that aura perfectly.

The interior is also thoughtfully designed, but it needs to compete with user-friendly cars like the Honda CR-V and Nissan X-Trail in this segment.

The front occupants are treated to a reasonably spacious cabin, which for the driver is quite adjustable, although the design of the dash means it sticks out into the front passenger’s knee area. Head and shoulder space is impressive, and everywhere you put your arms or knees there’s a soft-clad finish rather than hard plastic to greet you.

As already mentioned, the software isn’t half bad when it comes to ease-of-use, however the lack of tactile toggles or dials for the climate unit is a bit of a miss. It has its own dedicated set of touch controls below the screen itself, but they provide no tactile feedback, so are a little hard to use while on the move.

Storage is great, with large pockets and bottle-holders in the doors, a further two bottle holders in the centre console, a wireless phone charger, and a neat little set of drive mode buttons and a digital shift lever within easy reach.

The bridge-style console also offers a large pass-through area underneath for the storage of larger items, and there’s a deep centre armrest console box, too.

The second row is quite versatile, offering rail adjustment for the base, so you can maximise the room available to the third row if need be.

Second-row occupants (with the seats set to a decent position for myself at 182cm tall) have plenty of knee room and plenty of headroom, and the doors open nice and wide for the loading of objects or people.

Storage includes large pockets on the backs of the front seats, a bottle holder in each door, and a further two in the drop-down armrest. There is a set of adjustable air vents on the back of the centre console, with both a USB-A and USB-C port for power delivery.

The third row is a bit more challenging. I had to contort myself to get in with the second row seat either slid forward or folded flat. Once I was in there, I was surprised to find I fit, but only just.

My knees were hard up against the seat in front, while my head was touching the roof. Mercifully, I had enough room to slide my feet under the seat in front, otherwise it would’ve been too tight. It’s passable for adults then, but only in a pinch, and you wouldn’t want to be back there for long. No problem if you’re just putting kids back there though.

The third row gets air vents on either side with an independent fan speed controller on the mid-grade Elite and top-spec Ultimate, and there’s a useful storage tray, and small bottle holder on each side. You don’t get USB ports, but there’s a 12 volt outlet available just behind the rear seats in the boot.

On the topic of the boot, it is not as large as I was hoping, but then neither is the car itself.

The boot measures 479 litres with the second-row up, or just 117-litres with all seven seats deployed. It’s smaller than some mid-size rivals, but not enough for it to be a dealbreaker. We’ll get it back for a longer test to see what does and does not fit.

The floor is quite high to facilitate those fold-flat rear seats, and there’s a small under-floor storage tray where you can hide the retractable luggage cover on the Urban and Elite variants. Unfortunately the Ultimate gets a subwoofer here.

All variants get a space-saver spare wheel mounted outside underneath the car, so at least you don’t need to deal with a tyre repair kit.

Practicality isn’t really your concern when you buy a two-seat mega car like this, so let’s just say it’s about as practical as you would expect it to be. Not very, then.

Is it possible that any car - save one made from gold, dusted with diamonds and stuffed with truffles - would represent good value at a price of $610,000? It seems unlikely, but then people who can spend that much assay value differently, and would probably say that something as profound as the 812 Superfast is worth buying at any price.

Another way to look at it is price-per-litre, which is less than $100,000, considering you do get 6.5 litres of V12 Ferrari donk. Or you could go by kilowatt, which works out at nearly $1000 each for your 588kW.

Other than that you do get a lot of leather, a high-quality interior, superior exterior styling, badge-snob value that’s hard to put a price on and vast swathes of F1-derived technology. And a free car cover.

There is only one engine option in the Tiggo 8 Pro Max range, a 2.0-litre turbocharged four-cylinder petrol unit that produces 180kW/375Nm.

No matter which variant you choose, it’s also mated to a seven-speed dual-clutch automatic transmission. The Urban and Elite variants are front-wheel drive, while the Ultimate scores a Borg-Warner-sourced all-wheel-drive system with additional off-road drive modes.

The outputs are more than competitive with a lot of rivals, but there’s no fuel-saving hybrid option in the line-up just yet. It’s something Chery wants to add in the future.

Especially for Australia, the folks at Chery also made sure to get the Tiggo 8 Pro Max certified to tow. It can do that at up to 1300kg braked, or 750kg unbraked.

I did want to give the epic, enormous 6.5-litre naturally aspirated V12 engine a perfect 10 here, but when I paused to think about it I had to admit that it is, quite possibly, a little too powerful.

Yes, it is amazing to think Ferrari can build a car that has 588kW (800 horsepower - hence the 812 nomenclature; 800 horses and 12 cylinders) and doesn’t just dig itself a hole in the road as soon as you put your foot down.

And yes, it does provide the kind of performance that makes all other cars seems a bit piss poor and pathetic, even the really good ones. 

But honestly, who could ever use it all, or need it all? They might seem like irrelevant questions, I guess, because it’s all about conspicuous over-excess, a car like this, so really the question is, would anyone want to live with 588kW and 718Nm of torque, or is it just too scary in reality?

Well, a little bit, yes, but Ferrari’s engineers have been wise enough not to actually give you all of that power, all the time. Torque is limited in the first three gears, and maximum mental power is actually only available, in theory, at 8500rpm in seventh gear, at which point you’d be approaching its top speed of 340km/h.

The fact that you can rev an engine this big, and this lusciously loud, all the way to 8500rpm is, however, a joy that would never tire.

In more practical terms, you can run 0-100km/h in 2.9 seconds (although cheaper, less crazy cars can do that, too) or 200km/h in 7.9 (which is a tiny bit slower than the far lighter McLaren 720S).

What you can’t do, of course, is achieve any of those numbers on winter tyres, or roads with snow on them.

The 2.0-litre turbo engine has an official/combined consumption rating of 8.1L/100km for the front-wheel drive variants, or 8.7L/100km for the all-wheel drive Ultimate.

On our drive route for the day which took place on curvy country roads and expressways, my Ultimate all-wheel-drive test example produced a figure of 9.5L/100km which seems reasonable.

Unfortunately the engine also requires mid-shelf 95RON unleaded fuel, so this will push your running costs up slightly.

The Tiggo 8 Pro Max has a 57-litre fuel tank, indicating an estimated maximum cruising range of 703km for FWD variants.

Much as you can’t have a good volcano without some serious lava, you can’t have 800 horsepower without burning a lot of dead dinosaur goo. The Superfast has a claimed fuel-economy figure of 14.9L/100km, but on our drive the screen just said "Ha!" and we burned through a whole tank of fuel in less than 300km. 
Theoretical emissions are 340g/km of CO2.

Cars from Chinese brands often fall short of expectations when it comes to the drive experience, but the Tiggo 8 Pro Max moves everything in the right direction, and importantly it doesn’t add any deal-breaking characteristics along the way.

Visibility is great out of the cabin, with large windows all-round. The wing mirrors are great, but the centre rear-vision mirror is a quirky piece with a wide viewing angle. In a way this is great for parents, because with one glance you can see both out the rear of the vehicle and the rear seats to keep an eye on kids, but it does mess with your depth perception a bit.

On multiple occasions I felt like the car behind was tailgating, only to peer in the side mirrors to find that it was actually quite far back. Odd!

The steering is very light, and a bit disconnected as a result. While this sounds like a negative, I actually think suburban buyers who often negotiate with shopping centre parking lots, apartment towers, and school drop-offs will love it. It makes a big SUV feel really easy to steer and position.

Sure, it feels a bit doughy out on the open road, meaning it's hardly a confident corner-carver, but that’s not really the point of this car.

The engine on the other hand has loads of poke. Power of 180kW sounds like a lot because it is (once upon a time not so long ago this was well into V6 territory) and actually for the front-wheel-drive versions it might be a little bit too much power. It will readily spin the front wheels with slightly too much throttle input, which brings us nicely to the dual-clutch automatic which is responsible for communicating that power to the ground.

Dual clutches rightly raise a bit of a red flag for some because they can be particularly jerky from a standstill and have some pretty questionable gear shifts once you’re rolling. For the most part though, the Tiggo 8’s dual-clutch unit is pretty good. The brand stressed that it had done significant software tuning to this transmission to try to iron out nasty characteristics, and while it's still occasionally caught off-guard, I’ve certainly driven worse. It will occasionally produce a bucking feeling rather than a full second of lag like some rivals, but its enthusiasm to deliver power to the ground quickly gives the front-drive versions that slightly skittish feel.

It is one of those rare occasions when it’s worth splashing for the all-wheel drive. I found the Ultimate to be much more sure-footed and confident on the road, able to handle the engine’s relatively mountainous torque with ease.

On the open road I was impressed by the Tiggo 8’s level of refinement. The amount of sound entering the cabin in both variants was low, with minimal tyre roar or wind noise. Thuds from the suspension and roar from the engine under load were also pleasingly distant, even at freeway speeds.

When it comes to the ride it’s built to a certain cadence. It’s soft and comfortable, matching the semi-luxurious cabin feel nicely, but it can be a bit springy and lose a bit of body control over undulations and corrugations. Again, it’s not exactly an athlete, but then for most people, it won’t have to be.

Importantly, it filters out sharper bumps like potholes, road imperfections, and speed bumps with relative ease. It’s even better in the 2WD versions thanks to larger tyres and smaller alloy wheels.

Mercifully, the active safety systems don’t intrude on the driving experience either. Chery has apparently learned some hard lessons after the feedback it received on the overbearing lane assist equipment on the smaller Omoda 5, and applied those learnings here in the Tiggo 8.

The lane systems are still there, but they only intervene when they really have to, while warning chimes from things like the traffic sign recognition, blind spot monitoring, and driver attention alert are, at worst, background. It’s a good thing too because of all the systems, the driver attention alert is the one that triggers most often as you look away from the road to adjust the touch-based climate systems.

Where does that leave us? Actually pretty impressed. The Tiggo 8 Pro Max might not have the balancing act between ride quality and performance quite as well tuned as some of its Japanese and Korean rivals, but this is a comfortable, quiet, and refined SUV that, importantly, feels very normal. There’s no deal-breaking safety bugs, or a terrible transmission or frustrating software that takes away from the experience. Chery is learning, and it’s learning fast.

Insane. It’s a word that people often lift from their lexicon when describing a supercar experience, because clearly, as forms of transport, things like Ferraris and Lamborghinis are not sane options.

But the Superfast really deserves the word, because it feels not only the opposite of sane, but truly bonkers. As if someone built it for a dare, realised it was a bad and possibly dangerous idea, and then put it on sale anyway.

Picture some tiny-handed child with his greasy, post-cheeseburger fingers poised over a big red button on his desk that could wipe out humanity, and that’s basically the situation your right leg finds itself in when driving the Superfast.

There is so much power on tap here - even the limited amount of it that the engineers allow you to access in lower gears - that it truly seems possible you’ll have a Road Runner moment, and simply dig a hole in the ground, if you push the throttle too hard.

Yes, on the one hand, the noises this extreme V12 makes above 5000rpm are memorable and moving, like Satan himself singing Nessun Dorma in a shower of sparks. At one stage we found a long tunnel, perhaps the only dry road within 500km that day, and my colleague forgot all about his licence and let rip.

The numbers on my 'Passenger Screen' spun like poker-machine wheels, then turned red and then implausible. I was shoved back into my seat as if by Thor himself, and I squealed like a small pig, but my co-driver heard nothing over the Monaco tunnel during F1 sound.

Even on dry road, of course, the winter tyres we were forced (by law) to run in the foul snowy conditions could not maintain grip, and we constantly felt the rear skipping sideways. Fortunately we were in Italy, so people simply cheered us on.

The likelihood that you will lose traction in this car is so high that the boffins have included a special feature in its new 'Electronic Power Steering' system called 'Ferrari Power Oversteer'. When you inevitably start going sideways, the steering wheel will apply subtle torque to your hands, 'suggesting' the best way to get the car back in a straight line.

A proud engineer told me that this is basically like having a Ferrari test driver in the car with you, telling you what to do, and that they used their skills to calibrate the system. You can override it, of course, but it sounds scarily like an autonomous-driving precursor to me.

What’s disappointing about this car having EPS at all, rather than a traditional hydraulic system, is that it just doesn’t feel muscular enough for a hairy-handed monster of a car like this.

It is accurate and precise and pointy, of course, and makes driving the Superfast, even in stupidly slippery conditions, almost easy. Almost.

It’s actually surprising how hard you can push a car like this along a windy and wet mountain road without careering off into a muddy field.

More time, and more traction, would have been appreciated, but you can tell it’s the sort of car you’d grow into, and perhaps even feel in control of, after a decade or so together.

So it’s good, yes, and very fast, obviously, but I can’t get past the idea that it’s all a bit unnecessary, and that a 488 GTB is simply, in every single way, a better car.

But as a statement, or a collector’s item, the Ferrari 812 Superfast certainly is one for the history books.

It might not surprise you to hear that, unlike every other company’s press kits, the Ferrari ones don’t generally include a section on 'safety'. Perhaps because driving something this powerful is inherently unsafe, or possibly because they believe their 'E-Diff 3', 'SCM -E' (magnetorheological suspension control with dual-coil system), 'F1-Traction Control', ESC and so forth will keep you on the road no matter what. 

If you do fly off, you’ll have four airbags, and a nose as big as a house forming a crumple zone, to protect you.

Chery offers its line-up with seven years and unlimited kilometres of warranty, seven-years of capped-price servicing, and seven years of roadside assist.

The roadside assist is topped up on a 12 monthly basis so long as you service with Chery. At the time of writing, Chery was yet to provide costings for its capped-price servicing program, but if it follows the same scheme as the Omoda 5 and Tiggo 7, it will be competitive.

Once you’ve paid the vast cost of entry, it’s nice to know you will get some stuff for free, like your first seven years of servicing, including all parts and labour, carried out by trained Ferrari technicians, who even dress like pit crew. It’s called 'Genuine Maintenance', and is genuinely Kia-challenging in its scope.