By Dan Neil | Photography by Jeremy M. Lange for WSJ
When Ferrari revealed the Purosangue three years ago, many in the red brigade derided the design and, more generally, the very idea of a Ferrari sport-utility vehicle, scorning it as a sort of heresy. "It's not a real Ferrari," etc.
I marveled at the presumption. First of all, Maranello's bankers are the ones who decide what is and isn't a Ferrari. For years, clients quietly petitioned for a four-door, four-seat model, with cargo space to accommodate skis and luggage; higher ground clearance to get up snowy mountain roads; and suspension damping, ride control and cabin isolation suitable for driving long distances. A weekender's Ferrari.
Another unserved market was the livery trade. In Asian markets, it's not unusual for the wealthy to be driven rather than to drive.
For Ferrari the only sin is leaving money on the table. And so, the Purosangue.
But it didn't have to be so awesome. It could have come to life as a lesser kind of Ferrari, a diminished derivative of one of the company's mainline GT cars, with a turbocharged V8 under the hood. Instead, deep beneath the swells and swales of aluminum and carbon fiber, is the full send, the real deal: a naturally aspirated, dry-sump lubricated, 6.5-liter V12.
With maximum power (715 hp at 7,750 rpm) and torque (528 lb-ft at 6,250 rpm) coming at high rpm, the free-breathing V12 is quite the sky writer. In more relaxed moments -- at highway speeds, in 8th gear -- the V12 is barely turning 1,000 rpm. But paddle-shift down to 3rd gear and step on the gas. Watch as the graphically animated tachometer needle fans through a couple of full-power upshifts. Observe the terrifying velocity of passing scenery. Hearken the V12's warbling wail at redline (8,250 rpm), sawing bourgeois decency in half like a magician's assistant.
Owners will pay for the privilege, of course. Ferrari's production of V12 engines is limited. The cars so blessed are especially pricey. While it's a bit apples-and-oranges, you can compare the Ferrari Amalfi coupe with the 12Cilindri. The difference shakes out to about a $125,000 upsell for the V12. And that's ignoring the considerable collectible value.
In the interests of maintaining brand mystique, Ferrari limits Purosangue to 20% of its overall production, lest it suffer the fate of Porsche, which now sells many more SUVs than its legendary sports cars. Nor can the average ultra-high-net-worth individual just stroll into a dealership and scratch a check. Ferrari is in the enviable position of allotting Purosangue sales to its well-regarded clients, collectors and other Friends of Enzo.
And as for amateurs gainsaying the work of the Centro Stile design department, I think that's adorable. Three years on, the Purosangue remains an astonishing presence on any street, a provocation, an outrage, a moral panic -- indeed, sire, very like a Ferrari.
While you're marveling, consider that, even with the V12 in front, the Purosangue's weight distribution is nearly ideal, with just over half (51%) the curb weight on the enormous rear Pirelli 315/30 R23s. In order to achieve this salutary ratio, the engineers located the eight-speed, dual-clutch transmission at the rear axle. The rear-mounted transaxle works cooperatively with a front-mounted two-speed gearset being driven off the engine, supplying all-wheel traction as necessary, under speeds of about 124 mph.
It was not easy to pour this car into such a voluptuously shaped bottle. In fact, the vituperative V12 comes with a number of downsides compared with a twin-turbo'ed V8. The V12 really puts away the petrol. The EPA fuel economy figure of 12 mpg, combined, hilariously overstates mileage in my real-world driving. Admittedly, that includes a few power launches.
The Purosangue's wheels and tires, glorious in their audacity, also required some sophisticated workarounds. These include the exotic 48V fully active suspension system, which Ferrari said at the time was the first in production. With the instantaneity of electrohydraulic power, the independent suspension puts real muscle into the car's ride quality, chassis control and stability systems -- provided you can ever get it near its limits to tell.
With all this machinery taking up space, the challenge becomes finding room for passengers and ways for them to get in and out. The solution: the Purosangue's uber-charismatic rear coach doors. All but hidden in the coupe-like profile, the rear-hinged doors swing open almost 80 degrees. Getting in and out of the rear cabin is effortless. Whereas with its low-slung siblings, the struggle is real.
Also, unlike those I've sampled from Rolls-Royce, the Purosangue's coach doors are relatively compact. At least they don't reach out to clobber nearby cars.
The rear cabin matches the front in molded-leather magnificence, with two deep-seated, high-bolstered rear chairs cozied up between the wheel wells, sharing an armrest. The rear seats fit close and hold tight, helping to keep passengers from moving about the cabin during turbulence. I note that the rear seats also have Isofix attachment points for a child's safety seat.
But before you go hustling this half-million-dollar bison through the cones at the school drop-off, be sure to warm up the tires. An indicator on the dash will let you know when they reach operating temperatures.
Ferrari is trying to give the people what they want -- maybe too hard. Conspicuous in its absence in the center position of the dash is an LCD touch screen. Instead, where the rolling leather landscape forms a valley, a black-mirrored disc holds pride of place. This touch-capacitive device -- mainly for climate, comfort and seat controls -- is elegant, rune-like, often inscrutable. The personalization menus you'd typically expect to find on a center touch screen are instead baked into the driver's instrument display. To drill through the selections for entertainment, navigation, comms or connectivity, drivers use a four-point controller on the steering wheel. I predict a sudden wave of nostalgia for touch screens.
The angry button is right where it usually is. In the lower right of the steering wheel, the metallic, spring-loaded Manettino selector engages one of five drive modes, including Sport mode and Electronic Stability Control Off. Stop-start cycling is active in all drive modes. To disengage, drivers have to press a button to the lower left of the steering wheel -- an act of conscious hyperconsumption.
Toggling up to Sport mode engages the sport-mode exhaust. The vocalizations get thicker, boomier, more lascivious, but not appreciably louder from the outside, as far as I can tell. The latest European noise pollution standards are another tightrope Ferrari must walk between giving clients what they want and what they can have.
Ferrari Purosangue
Base price: $393,350
Price, as tested: $576,544
Powertrain: Front-mid-mounted, naturally aspirated, direct-injected 6.5-liter DOHC V12; eight-speed dual-clutch rear transaxle; two-speed (plus reverse) front-mounted transmission for the front wheels.
Power/torque: 715 hp at 7,750 rpm/528 lb-ft at 6,250 rpm
Length/wheelbase/height/width: 195.8/118.8/62.6/79.8 inches
Dry weight: 4,482 pounds
0-62 mph: 3.3 seconds
EPA fuel economy: 11/15/12 mpg
Cargo capacity: 16.7 cubic feet
(END) Dow Jones Newswires
April 17, 2026 20:00 ET (00:00 GMT)
Copyright (c) 2026 Dow Jones & Company, Inc.
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