Jaguar F-Type R Coupé

Being A DOG-Person, I’m not particularly fond of cats. They’re perfectly fine when they’re little kittens, but their motives change as they grow up. Thankfully, big cats are among those I’ve always not just liked, but also admired. They’re majestic and loyal to their mates, in both senses, I would like to believe. The really big, potentially vicious ones are just as admirable as they are scary. From black panthers to leopards, tigers, lions and pumas, most of which are also brands, there is one of particular interest to me brand, that is and that’s Jaguar.

Jaguar have a vast heritage in motor racing, and British Racing Green (BRG) is a colour so prominent, it’s made it to the official colour options chart. Be it touring cars or Formula 1, Jaguar have been there, done that. Their C-Type and D-Type racers from the 1950s grew immensely popular and, in the ’60s, the E-Type came to become one of the most beautiful and inspired cars ever, and is still considered one today. In the power-mad ’80s, the XJ220 arrived: low, sleek, and sporting a 550-PS 3.5-litre twin-turbo V6 which propelled it to 343 km/h; it was the world’s fastest production car until 1993. The successor, spiritual or intentional, would have to be something wild, bold and just as mental, while conforming to the many stringent norms for everything from design and pedestrian safety to emissions and its carbon-footprint. The F-Type, then, is that car; embodying the heritage of the Types and road-legal madness of the XJ220, in a contemporary, all-compliant form.

The F-Type is a beautiful car. The wide, naughty smile from that face, thanks to the wide grille and swept-back headlamps invite you to take the entire form in. The sloping roof, made of glass, leads to a petite rear with wide haunches an essential sports car trait. No surprise then that many passers-by screamed ‘Ferrari!’ as it went along. Let’s not forget the quad-exhaust pipes which hold nothing back (except carbon monoxide molecules), letting it unashamedly announce its arrival from a distance and trumpet on by in all its glory.

The bulging bonnet points to only one thing. Remember, the coupé was actually launched after the convertible model, and that led to an interesting turn of events. The AJ-V8 in gen-III supercharged guise went on to evolve into its most powerful version yet. Plonked into the XKR-S. In the F-Type R, it’s offered in the same bursting-at-the-seams 550-PS state of tune.

The details are as intrinsic on the inside as anyone would expect from a car of this bloodline. The carbon-fibre-like finish adorning the centre console is actually what Jaguar call ‘Dark Technical Weave Aluminium’. Even the premium leather seats, which are immensely supportive, have a stripe down the middle of what looks like pre-baked carbon-fibre in its expensive cloth form. The bronze finish on the engine start/stop button, the mode selector switch and the wheel-mounted gear-shifter paddles adds a fine contrast to the sporty dark surroundings. The eight-inch high-resolution touchscreen in the centre console delivers all the information you need on the move. Select ‘Dynamic’, and it incorporates the ‘Dynamic i’ configurable display showing everything from throttle, brake and steering input to lap times and G-force. Wicked!

The cabin doesn’t feel compact. There’s enough room for two and the panoramic glass roof helps maintain a healthy light quotient. The view through the rear windscreen is not too bad either. But the all-important aspect of visibility is up front, and, through that wide curved windscreen, is the open road that begs this wildcat to stretch its legs. Let’s not forget, this Jag has the strongest heart of them all.

The earlier-mentioned V8 is a 5.0-litre unit with a Roots twin-vortex supercharger that is mounted in the V to help keep things compact. The maximum of 550 PS comes at 6,500 RPM with a hefty 680 Nm of peak torque available between 2,500 and 5,500 revs. The QuickShift gearbox from ZF has eight ratios, bunched up very nicely indeed, sending all of those twists and screaming wild horses to the electronic centre differential and on to the two fat rubber donuts wrapped around those big 20” wheels. However, what actually brings a wide smile is the Active Exhaust system, which, in Dynamic mode, opens up at 3,500 RPM and lets the big cat sing its tune loud and clear. Next to the button for the rear spoiler, there’s also a button to keep those active exhaust pipes turned on. Thank you, Jag!

Left foot on the brake, right foot on the throttle, hearing the growl building up intensely at close to 3,000 revs. Left foot off, right foot to the floor and the pair of 295-sections claw into the tarmac, with a wiggly feeling that scared the living daylights out of me for that split second. Launch done with, and with me barely comprehending the aggressive lunge forward, the F-Type R hit 100 km/h from standstill in just 4.06 seconds, and then went on to post a 10.85-second quarter-mile! The R will go on to 300 km/h, although the greatest restrictions, more than the legal speed limits, are the bumpy road surface and mindless motorists who fail miserably in understanding the concept of travelling in a straight line.

The numbers are good on paper, and even better to feel. The F-Type R can cruise comfortably at 180 km/h, all sliding and wiggling sensations done with once you’re on the move. The active rear spoiler comes up at 120 km/h and stays up till the speed drops below 80 km/h. It’s absolutely planted, stable and never fails to let you know that there’s always so much more power its heart has left to give. Heading towards a patch of slow-moving cars, it effortlessly shed speed after tottering at 130 km/h doing 1,600 RPM in eighth gear. The turn-off arrived and I lifted off, turning in sharply and then proceeding to crawl as fast as I could through the busy street.

The winding, open hilly roads were perfect and I felt the urge to let loose, watching out for the odd speed-bump, of course. The F-Type R corners sharp and sure, and the grip from the P-Zeros is very appreciable. It’s agile, reassuring and always seems to insist that I push harder, egging me on to try and find the limits of grip, because all that power seems limitless, or at the very least, extremely more than adequate on the roads I was on. One particular corner tempted me no end to turn off the traction control and slide my way around it, but, even by not giving in, I went around having just as much fun, but with more peace of mind, feeling the rear anxious to kick out, but staying put, just like I was. The R is a blast on the straights and a downright hoot around bends, and there are few others which deliver such a wholesome drive experience.

If you’re wondering about the efficiency a supercharged V8 sports car such as this mad Jag delivers, prepare to not be disappointed. The R returned four km/litre in the city and seven on the highway. Admirable! Also, at Rs 1.97 crore plus tax, it’s not for everybody, but, with its style, stance and substance, it sure makes everybody sit up and take notice. Turns out I am a bit of a cat person after all.