McLaren 720S vs Lamborghini Aventador

What's the difference?

Past McLarens have been accused of being a bit soulless, but this one is alive. The last time I felt like this in a car was a Ferrari F12, one of the scariest but most brilliant cars I've ever driven. Except the 720S isn't scary on the road, just sheer genius.

The 720S doesn't necessarily beat the competition but it opens up new ways of doing supercar things. It's a car that looks amazing, is more than fit for purpose but has a wider range of talents than the others. 

That makes it ever more compelling, both as a piece of automotive brilliance to admire, andl as something to consider when you've got half a Sydney apartment to spend on a car.

Australian roads await, but the drive through rural English country roads and villages was a great preview. All I can say is: gimme one.

The Aventador isn't the best car you can buy for the money and truth be told, it isn't the best Lamborghini, which is a bit tough when you remember the only other car they make at the moment is the V10 Huracan. But it's all about the theatre as much as being a very capable supercar. 

I'm not a Lamborghini fanboy, but I completely get the Aventador. It's a because-we-can car, just like the Murcielago, Diablo and Countach before it. But unlike those cars, it's thoroughly modern and with the upgrades introduced to the S, it's faster, harder and enormously entertaining. 

As the last of a dying breed it delivers on everything a Lamborghini should - amazing looks, nutty price tag and an engine that excites not just driver and passenger but anyone with a heartbeat. It's by far the most charismatic car you can buy, no matter how many zeroes are on the cheque.

Photography by Rhys Vanderside

The 720S has received mixed reviews but nobody will say it isn't striking. I love it - every designer says their influence is a Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird (designer Melville even jokes about it), but you really can see it in the 720S, especially in the cockpit design, which looks like a glass canopy from that surveillance jet.

McLaren's signature dihedral doors, which go all the way back to the 1994 McLaren F1, are substantial, with a double skin to act as a serious piece of aero kit.

Melville told me in January that he thinks the cars look shaped by nature, using the example of a stone left in a stream to erode. The 720S is full of details evoking that image, with a clean, taut surface. Where everyone complained that the 12C was "designed in a wind tunnel", the 720S looks designed by the wind. In the carbon and aluminium, it looks extraordinary.

One of the most talked about features are those headlights - almost always finished in black, they're known as "the socket". When you get close you see slim LED DRLs, small but powerful headlights, and you then discover two radiators behind them. Follow it through and the air exits through the bumper, around the wheels and then through the door. It's quite something.

Inside is the McLaren we've come to know and love, but with a clever kicker. The dash panel looks lifted from a race car - but with far nicer graphics. Switch to "active" mode, turn everything up to Track and the panel swings down and presents you with a minimised set of instruments to reduce distraction and make up for a lack of head-up display - just speed, get and, revs.

Asking if there's anything interesting about a Lamborghini design is kind of like asking if the sun is warm.

While there are some geese out there in the corners of the internet who think Audi has ruined Lamborghini styling, there is absolutely nothing shy about the Aventador. It's an incredible looking machine and, if I may say so, shouldn't be had in black because you miss a lot of the madder details.

This car is all about the experience.

It might look close to the deck in the photos, but however low you think it is, it's lower. The roofline barely makes it to the bottom of a Mazda CX-5's windows - you need your wits about you in this car because people just don't see you.

It is absolutely spectacular - people stop and point, one chap sprinted an easy 200 metres to take a photo of it in the Sydney CBD. Hello, if you're reading.

Inside is pretty tight indeed. It's amazing to think that a car 4.8 metres long (a Hyundai Santa Fe is 4.7 metres) struggles to contain two people over six feet tall. My six foot two photographer's head left an impression in the headlining. It's a tiny cabin. It's not a bad one though, it even has a cupholder on the rear bulkhead behind the seats.

The centre console is covered in Audi-based switchgear and is all the better for it, even if it is starting to look a bit old (those bits are from a pre-facelift B8 A4). The alloy gearshift paddles are fixed to the column and are brilliant to look at and touch, while the digital dashboard - which changes with the driving mode - is fantastic even if the reversing camera is awful.

For a supercar, there is a surprising amount of space in the cabin. You can strap 220 litres of (hopefully) soft stuff on the rear shelf behind the seats and there's a 150-litre boot under the nose. You can store your track gear under there, including helmet, or even cram in a few soft bags for a weekend away.

Again, unusually a for a supercar, you're also  treated to a couple of storage cubbies in the centre console.

There's plenty of room in cabin for two bodies and the driver's seat offers lots of adjustment. Despite being so close to the front wheels, your feet have space even for my ridiculous duck feet to fit easily. There's even enough headroom for those over six feet, although the glass portholes in the top of dihedral doors might not be so welcome in an Australian summer.

Yes, well. There's not a lot of space because a V12 is not just big all on its own, all the ancillaries to support it rob a lot of the remaining space. Having said that, there's room in the front for soft bags with a 180-litre front boot, space for two people inside, a cupholder and a glove box.

And the doors open up into the sky rather than out like a normal car's. Who cares if it's impractical, it's hardly something that's going to stop someone buying one.

As with any Italian supercar, the price-to-feature ratio is rather higher than your average humdrum hatchback. A 'naked' Aventador S starts at a horse-spooking $789,425 and basically has no direct competition. Ferrari's F12 is front-mid engined and any other V12 is either a decidedly different Rolls Royce-type machine or super-expensive niche manufacturer (yes, niche compared to Lamborghini) like Pagani. They're a rare very breed, Lambo knows it, and here we are a sneeze-on-the-spec sheet away from $800,000.

So you have to keep two things in mind when rating a car's value for money at this level. The first is that there isn't any real rival in a pure sense, and if there was, it would be the same price and have the same spec. That's not excusing it, by the way, it's an explanation.

Anyway.

For your eight hundy you get 20-inch front wheels and 21-inch rears, climate control, cruise control, 7.0-inch screen (backed by an older version of Audi's MMI), four-speaker stereo with Bluetooth and USB, car cover, bi-xenon headlights, carbon ceramic brakes, electric seats, windows and mirrors, leather trim, sat nav, keyless entry and start, four-wheel steering, leather trim, digital dashboard, power folding and heated mirrors, active rear wing and active suspension.

The number of out-of-the-box options is staggering and if you're keen to really get on it, you can commission your own options when it comes to trim and paint and wheels. Let's just say that as far as the interior went, our car had almost $29,000 of Alcantara, steering wheel and yellow. The telemetry system, heated seats, some extra branding and front and reversing camera (uh-huh) added up to $24,000, the cameras almost half that total.

With all the bits and bobs, the test car we had was a sobering $910,825 before on-roads.

The 720S runs a 4.0-litre version of McLaren's familiar flat-plane crank twin-turbo V8. Power is up to 537kW (or 720PS, hence the name) and torque up almost 100Nm to 770Nm, from 678. McLaren says 41 percent of the components are new.

A seven-speed twin clutch sends power to the rear wheels and the 1283kg dry (down 106kg from the 650S) monster hits 100km/h in 2.9 seconds, surely a cautious claim. The more alarming 0-200km/h clam is a terrifying 7.8 seconds, half a second quicker than its closest rival, the 488 GTB. That is seriously, insanely quick, while top speed is equally bonkers at 341km/h.

Instead of a complicated and heavy active differential, the 720S uses the rear brakes and various other methods to get the same effect. It's one of several ideas pinched from F1, some of them now banned.

The Aventador S is powered by Automobili Lamborghini's 6.5-litre V12. You know it's a V12 because there's a plate on top of the engine (which you can see through the optional glass cover) that says so, and handily, tells you the cylinder firing order. That's a neat touch.

Buried deep in the middle of the car, this monster engine develops an astonishing 544kW (30kW up on the standard Aventador) and 690Nm. Its dry sump means the engine sits lower in the car. The gearbox is slung across the back between the rear wheels - the rear pushrod suspension actually sits on top of and across the gearbox - and is apparently brand new.

The transmission is known as an ISR (Independent Shift Rod) and has seven forward speeds and still just the one clutch. Power goes through all four wheels to the road, but it's clear the rears get the lion's share.

The 0-100km/h time is the same as the standard car, which kind of tells you that 2.9 seconds is about as quick as you can go on road tyres when you don't have four electric motors with torque from zero rpm.

McLaren claims the European combined cycle could return 10.7L/100km, but we have no way of knowing if that is accurate because we weren't mucking about on the day we had the car.

Hilariously, the official figure is 16.9L/100km. I doubled it without trying. Simple as that. If you're buying this car thinking it will be easy on the juice, you're insane.

Cheeringly, Lambo has at least tried, the V12 going silent when you sit at the lights, the best thing being the way it bursts back into life when you lift off the brake.

If you have the time available, it takes 90 litres of premium unleaded to fill the tank.

One of the biggest changes from 650 to 720 is the new Monocage II carbon fibre tub. The drop in overall weight is partly because the cage now includes the windscreen hoop, which previously was metal. Kerb weight with all fluids and a 90 percent full fuel tank (don't ask why 90 percent, I don't know either) it weighs 1419kg, giving it the same power-to-weight ratio as a Bugatti Veyron. Yikes.

The 720S is an astonishing car. We always say you can pootle in a modern supercar, but the 720S is so user-friendly, maneouvreable and so easy to see out of - there are no significant blind spots with an almost entirely glass roof - you can tackle city and country in comfort mode and actually be comfortable. Comparatively, a Huracan goes all blergh in Strada mode and the 488 GTB never stops begging you to kick it in the guts. The McLaren is easy, liveable and smooth. 

I was driving a left-hand drive car in the UK, which should have been a complete nightmare, but it was fine - the vision is excellent, particularly over the shoulder. 

But when you do decide to kick the 720S into action, it's wild. The acceleration is brutal, the handling impeccable and the ride, oh, the ride. No supercar can handle bumps, irregularities and flat out poor surfaces like the McLaren. The 540C's ride is incredible as it is, but the 720 is just wow.

Because it's quite light, the nose goes where you point it, the huge brakes have less to stop, the towering power less to push. The steering in the 720S is well-weighted but has tons of feel - you know what's going on underneath the double-wishbone sprung front wheels and you can adjust what you're up to accordingly. The stability system is excellent, too. Never overbearing or abrupt, where talent ends and the help begins is delightfully blurry.

The new engine is a bit more tuneful than past McLarens - there's even a loud-start party trick - but it's not loud and overbearing. You'll hear turbos whisting, sighing and pshawing, a deep bassy exhaust note and some awesome intake roar. But there's not much off-throttle character. It does at least do away with the histrionics of the Italians.

The only serious drama is the amount of noise bouncing around the cabin over about 100km/h. There's a lot more glass than sound-soaking Alcantara, which explains some of the extra tyre racket over a 650S. You can't have everything, I guess.

In Strada or Street mode, awful. Everything is slow and doughy, particularly the gearshift which goes looking for a gear like dog looking for a stick you didn't throw, but instead hid behind your back. The low-speed ride is nothing less than terrible, fidgeting over every single lump and bump and is only slightly more appealing than being dragged along behind.

The gearbox is really the worst bit about it. Automotive history is littered with cars that laboured along with a single clutch semi-auto: Alfa Romeo 156, BMW's E60 M5 and today the Citroen Cactus is stuck with just such a dud transmission.

Like that old M5, however, there's a trick to making the gearbox work for you - show absolutely no mercy.

Switch the selector up to Sport, get off the highway or major arterial road and head for the hills. Or better still, a clear race track. Then the Aventador goes from a pain in the rear to a glorious, roaring, completely unhinged and unhinging battle cruiser. This car is all about the experience, from the second you lay eyes on it to the moment you put it to bed.

This isn't an everyday supercar and it's absurd to think Lamborghini thinks it is.

First up, there's the obvious entry point with those wacky doors. While it's tricky to get in, if you're under six feet and reasonably mobile, stick your backside in, keep your head down and you're in. If you've been clever, you've specified the glass engine cover so you can see out the back but the huge wing mirrors are surprisingly effective.

Has someone thoughtlessly parked the car in a tight spot? No trouble, the four wheel steer makes the car absurdly manoeuvrable given its extravagant length and width.

As we've already established, it's not much fun at low speeds, waiting until about 70km/h before things start to make a bit more sense. This isn't an everyday supercar and it's absurd to think Lamborghini thinks it is. It just isn't.

The old Aventador was not the most capable of machines but made up for it with its overall belligerence. The new S takes that aggro and dials it up. When you move the drive mode to Sport you are basically unleashing hell. You can pretend to be super-masculine and switch to Corsa (race) mode, but it's all about getting the car straight and getting you around the track in the most efficient way possible. Sport is where it's at if you want to have fun.

The Aventador is about being seen, but not before you've been heard - from two postcodes away. It really is utterly glorious when you have a stretch of road to yourself. The V12 revs furiously to its 8400rpm redline and the wallop of the upshift is accompanied with a fantastic bark and a burst of blue flame. And these aren't the best bits.

Approach a corner, stomp on the colossal carbon ceramic brakes and the exhaust erupts in a combination of bangs and pops and growls that puts a smile on even the most hardened car-hater's face. The fact it steers into corners with just a demure roll of the wrist, aided and abetted by that funky four-wheel steering system. It's just brilliant, addictive and truth be told, it gets under your skin.

The Aventador doesn't have an ANCAP safety rating but the carbon chassis also comes with four airbags, ABS, stability and traction controls.

The 720S comes with McLaren's three-year/unlimited kilometre warranty with roadside assist. McLaren will want to see you every 12 months or 20,000km, which is quite unusual at this level.

In an unexpected twist, you'll get a three-year/100,000km warranty and the option to increase to four years ($11,600!) or five years ($22,200!)(!). Having recovered from typing that, given the cost of something going wrong, that's probably money well-spent.