OVERVIEW - What is it?
Less a car, more a sort of mobile shrine to V10 worship. It’s the topless version of the entry-level Lambo, now facelifted into ‘Evo’ form and available in two flavours. Choose between the Huracán RWD Spyder, which makes do with sending 602bhp to the rear wheels only, and the other Huracán Evo Spyder, which remains four-wheel drive, and now chucks out 631bhp.
Whichever version you go for, you get a seven-speed twin-clutch gearbox, an electrically-folding cloth roof, a top speed north of the magic 200mph (or 322kph), and a noise that will wake the dead, make them grin, and shout them to death all over again.
The Huracán is by no means a young supercar – it’s been with us now since 2014. In those six years, Lamborghini has fiddled with it, so beyond the original LP610-4 model, there’s been the Spyder, then the rear-wheel drive versions, and the lighter, more powerful Huracán Performante.
Now, Lamborghini has basically ripped the Performante’s furious engine out and stuck it in a revised Huracán, which has new bumpers, new wheels, and a new cabin. All very new, for what’s basically the mid-life facelift. But when the opposition is the likes of Ferrari, Porsche and McLaren, a fresh set of floor mats isn’t really going to cut it.
Since the Spyder is designed for sunny days, we’ve concentrated most on testing the rear-wheel drive version. Hey, you’re hardly going to miss the four-wheel drive in the middle of high summer, are you? It’s the cheapest way to get a brand new Lambo cabrio into your life, with prices starting at a cheap-as-chips £188,800.
Okay, those are some pricey chips, but for the sheer amount of performance and pantomime on offer here, most people will assume you’ve parted with at least a quarter of a million quid for the privilege. And if you were worried about value for money, you’d just plump for an Audi R8 Spyder instead. Same engine, same gearbox, same chassis. But only one of those cars shares its badge with a diesel supermini…
DRIVING - What is it like on the road?
Hmm, wrong word really, ‘driving.’ You don’t ‘drive’ the Huracán Spyder. You press a pedal in the footwell which chiefly seems to unleash a noise like wolves and T-Rexes having a bar fight, and as a sort of by-product of all this commotion, you also accelerate quite fast. It seems that making the car move is the engine’s second job. Shouting comes first.
Even the powered-down RWD Spyder punts itself from 0-100kph in 3.5sec and on to a top speed of 323kph. But the raw pace will not be your defining memory of nailing launch control in a Huracán Spyder. It’ll be the baleful wail of that majestic naturally aspirated 5.2-litre V10.
That’s what this car is all about.
Lamborghini has committed not to muffle its engines with turbos, so the next Huracán will have to have some sort of clever hybrid system to keep the V10 alive. That’ll be interesting, but what we have here is the last time a drop-top Lambo will be dropkicked down a road by piston-power alone. And that makes it very special.
Being in the Spyder means you’re all the closer and more intimate to the sheer fury. It’s a wonderful motor.
By rights, the engine should be muffled. It should be quieter, thanks to petrol particulate filters mandated by the EU which strangle noise in the name of lower emissions. But apparently, Lamborghini has found a loophole to avoid stifling the Huracán V10’s death throes, because it’s louder than ever. The exhausts even glow orange when you’ve got it nice and hot. It puts tailgaters right off.
It’s a good job the engine and the gearbox are so magnificent, because the rest of the Huracan Spyder isn’t really at the races when it comes to modern topless supercars. It’s been set up to be approachavle and neutral, so the steering is quick but numb, and you don’t have anything like the razor-sharp responses of a Ferrari F8 Spider, nor the detailed corner-by-corner feedback and sheer agility of a McLaren 570S Spider, let alone the 720S Spider.
And because the Huracán isn’t based around a carbon tub, the weight gain after adding all the strengthening what-not is some 120kg. An equivalent McLaren is only 40kg heavier when decapitated. That said, the Lambo resists the dreaded chassis-wobble well.
Lamborghini says that, for the Huracán Evo RWD Spyder, it’s played with the traction control so it doesn’t cut it as abruptly. This can apparently lead to a very German-sounding ‘30 per cent more oversteer’. And it probably can. It’s not boring in the corners – it can still apex at light-speed. The thing is, you never feel as confident in the chassis as you do in the rivals to dare letting the Huracán dance for the pleasure of the million cameraphones that follow your every move. Though, that might have quite a bit to do with how you’re sat…
ON THE INSIDE - Layout, finish and space
Lamborghini ballsed up when it chopped the roof off the Huracán. Or perhaps it was Audi when it was concocting the current R8 Spyder, which shares much of the Huracán’s foundations. Someone somewhere got a bit confused between millimetres and inches, or accidentally hit ‘delete all’ on their chassis blueprint and had to pull an all-nighter typing it all back in.
Quite simply, there isn’t enough room in this car for the V10 engine, the folding roof gubbins, and the human sitting behind the steering wheel and the pedals. So something has to give, and it’s not the metal bits.
If you’re anything over five foot ten, you simply won’t fit comfortably in this car. The (unsupportive) seat doesn’t motor back far enough, and when it’s at the limits of its adjustment, hard up against the rear bulkhead, it can’t recline, so you sit bolt upright, like you’re being sentenced in court. Not stylish.
Your legs are kinked to get comfortable on the pedals. And that means the steering wheel needs to be adjusted clear of your knees. If you’re anything around six foot tall, when you finally settle into some approximation of being seated, you’re at level eyeline with the top of the windscreen rail. So, you choose whether to drive along hunched, ducking to peer through the windscreen, or peek straight over the top and enjoy catching swarms of insects in your eyelashes. All the while, you’re the star of fifty thousand Instagram stories.
These were all problems with the original Huracán Spyder. However, it’s now been joined by a new and even more Italian whoopsie in the Huracán Evo. See, Lamborghini came over all, well, Audi-ish, and got rid of all the switchgear. Where there was once a bank of buttons for the radio, climate control and settings, there’s now a 4.4-inch touchscreen. Very minimalist. Very cool.
… and completely pointless, because the second you drop the roof, reflections make the display entirely unreadable. In fact, they’re blinding. Supercars are supposed to be impractical of course, but deliberately hiding all of the car’s interior toys in behind a window of fingerprints is just cruel. Even a Countach is less hard work than one of these.
As before, the roof is well-insulated and motors away quietly in 17 seconds at up to 50kph. Headroom is very tight when it’s raised, though. To cheer yourself up, the rear window can be lowered independently, so the V10 can invade the cabin even when the weather is as depressed as your hairstyle.
OWNING - Running costs and reliability
Good news if you shared your winning lottery ticket with a dozen other members of the syndicate – this is as affordable as soft-top Lamborghinis get. The four-wheel drive Huracán Evo Spyder kicks off at £218,000, but if you can make do with the detuned V10 (it sounds just as good and you can enjoy the noise for a few more tenths before things get illegal) then the rear-drive Evo Spyder is yours for £37k less – but still £15,600 more than the coupe.
That’ll quickly skyrocket when you set about splashing ‘forged carbon’ trim, painted brake calipers and bi-colour stitching about the place. Even Apple CarPlay is an option, which seems cheeky. The matte ‘Blu Arione’ example in these pictures was tricked out to a cool £232,512. Oof.
No-one’s expecting this to be an IKEA chariot, but practicality isn’t the Huracán Spyder’s strong suit. With or without front driveshafts, the nose boot is a one-suitcase space. There’s no room to shove squashy bags behind the seats either. We’d heartily recommend speccing the nose-lift function to save any embarrassing graunches entering that underground car park near Harrods.
With CO2 emissions vaulting over the 300g/km barrier, road tax will set you back over £2,000. You can probably afford it, but it remains to be seen how long you’ll be able to drive a car like this into the heart of a city where adorning fans will smother it with selfies.
Less a car, more a sort of mobile shrine to V10 worship. The show-off's super-spyder of choice
In many ways, this latest drop-top Lambo is a very old-school Italian supercar. The driving position is against the Geneva convention, the interior makes no sense, it’s hopelessly impractical and yet, because of the looks, the noise and the character, it’s still a machine you’d strongly consider using to burn the apocryphal ‘last gallon of petrol on Earth’. That’s how life-affirming that sonorous V10 engine is, and how rich the sense of occasion is once you’re enclosed inside the Huracán’s gorgeously angular body.
If we have to come over all grown-up, we’d recommend you spend your lottery winnings on a different drop-top supercar. Or, a hard-top Huracán. It’s more tactile, more vivid in the corners, there’s more space inside and you don’t need to wear a welder’s mask to see the touchscreen on a sunny day. It’s also considerably cheaper than the soft-top, and no less striking.
But supercars defy rational explanation, don’t they? And that’s why, long after our backs have stopped aching from the hopeless seat, and our ears have ceased ringing, we’ll remember the Huracán Spyder fondly for being a poetic love letter to high-revving engines, style over seriousness, and sheer bloody entertainment.
Words: Ollie Kew
‘Evo’ updates don’t make the Huracán any easier to live with... but we almost forgive it, because of that V10
|Those looks. The engine. That NOISE. The sheer theatre of it all.||It’s bloody uncomfortable. New infotainment screen is useless when the roof’s down.|