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Testarossa was always meant to represent. Ferrari has not just revived a legendary badge. It has earned it, but only if you take the time to understand why.
Originally published on GT Spirit by Zaid Hamid.
There was a time when 1,000 bhp felt like an abstract number. Something unreal, reserved for the most extreme exotica, the Bugattis and other bona fide hypercars that existed as much to prove a point as to be driven. The Ferrari 849 Testarossa quietly detonates that notion. This is a 1,036 bhp series-production Ferrari that accelerates from 0–100 km/h in under 2.3 seconds and reaches 200 km/h in 6.3 seconds, yet it starts at around €460,000 and is available from launch not only as a coupé, but as a Spider. Numbers like that still feel faintly ridiculous, but Ferrari now delivers them with a confidence that suggests this is simply the next logical step.
When Ferrari unveiled the car and its name for the first time, the internet duly combusted. “Testarossa” remains one of Maranello’s most emotionally loaded badges, and for many it immediately summoned images of flat-12 engines, side strakes and Miami Vice posters. But the history runs far deeper than that. Long before the 1984 icon, Testa Rossa referred to the redpainted cam covers on Ferrari’s racing engines of the 1950s, a designation reserved for the brand’s most extreme, competition-bred powerplants. Viewed through that lens, the name suddenly makes sense. This is Ferrari reclaiming Testarossa as a statement of engineering intent rather than a styling exercise.
The 849 Testarossa replaces the SF90 at the top of Ferrari’s mid-engined V8 range, and crucially, it feels like the finished article rather than a brilliant prototype. Its thoroughly reworked twin-turbo V8 produces 819 bhp on its own, paired with a three-motor plug-in hybrid system for a combined 1,036 bhp. It is the most powerful production powertrain Ferrari has ever offered, but more importantly, it finally feels cohesive.
Visually, the car leans into Ferrari’s Sports Prototype heritage rather than road-car nostalgia. The sharp, geometric surfacing and squared-off volumes reference the 1970s, most clearly at the rear where the twin-tail architecture nods directly to the 512 S and 512 M. Those twin tails are not styling theatre. They integrate active rear aerodynamics and help generate 415 kg of downforce at 250 km/h, alongside a 15 per cent improvement in cooling performance over the SF90. Heritage here is functional, not decorative.
Inside, Ferrari has deliberately pulled things back. The cabin is more driver-centric, with a mechanical feel returning through physical steering-wheel buttons and the classic red start key. The gated-style selector motif reappears as a tactile anchor in an otherwise very modern cockpit. It feels contemporary, but unmistakably Ferrari. Front-trunk space remains less than adequate, but the space behind the seats can be used if you pack very lightly.
Within a few metres on the road, you know this is a modern Ferrari. The control weights are hyperalert yet measured, the steering needle-sharp and immediate. The seating position heightens that connection, placing you close to the front axle and its electric motors, which adds a distinct sense of precision to the way the nose responds.
There is theatre too. Under load, you get a playful flutter from the turbo wastegates, audible and engaging without ever becoming obnoxious. In EV running, the electric motor emits a gentle, futuristic whirr that feels considered rather than gimmicky. It is always present, but never irritating. Performance is outrageous without ever feeling ragged. In-gear acceleration borders on surreal as instant electric torque stacks seamlessly with the relentless muscle of the 819 bhp V8. You burn through the revs so quickly you would swear the gearing is short, but it is not. The powertrain simply builds speed with an almost unreal sense of momentum, the sort that recalibrates your internal sense of pace.
The eight-speed dual-clutch gearbox is exceptional. Pull the oversized left paddle and it delivers downshifts you do not think it will allow, slamming straight into the red line with a proper V8 howl. Upshifts have been given real character too. There is a hard-edged, almost brutal chuff on the change that makes each upshift feel like an event rather than a background process. The brakes are ferocious. Ferrari’s latest brake-by-wire system with ABS Evo clearly delivers astonishing stopping power and repeatability. I trusted them completely, but I needed more miles to feel fully at one with the pedal. I had the same experience recently in the Amalfi, which suggests this is more about acclimatisation to ABS Evo than any real flaw. Once you adjust, the confidence remains sky-high.
What also stands out on the road is the ride quality, which is nothing short of sensational. This car does not use Multimatic’s active dampers, those are reserved for the F80 and Purosangue, yet the passive set-up here is a quiet masterclass. In its softer settings, particularly in bumpy road mode, the adjustable spring and damper calibration delivers remarkable compliance without ever feeling loose. It breathes with broken tarmac, maintains body control, and somehow manages to feel both settled and alert at the same time. Crucially, Ferrari has now made this configuration available as part of the Assetto Fiorano package. Rather than the fixed Multimatic set-up that previously defined Fiorano cars, buyers can now specify this adaptive passive suspension alongside a front axle lift system, making the most focused version of the 849 Testarossa far more usable in the real world. It is a smart decision, and a very Ferrari one.
What truly defines the car on the road is transparency. Many felt the SF90’s calibration was slightly rushed, as though the systems never quite settled into harmony. In the 849 Testarossa, everything feels aligned. The car is calm, devastatingly quick, and remarkably readable. You can sense the electronics working, but they work with you rather than over you.
Monteblanco was new to me, and learning a circuit with 1,036 bhp is objectively absurd. Yet the 849 Testarossa never once felt intimidating. This Assetto Fiorano-equipped car delivered huge pace with astonishing composure. The way the power is metered out is masterful. You get everything you ask for, but never in a way that tips you into trouble.
The car allows you to feel fast, encourages you to push, and quietly looks after you in the background. Variable traction control and side-slip systems let you lean into the torque, ride the swell, and make small, clean corrections. On corner exit, with the Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2s clearly past their best after a full day of punishment, you could feel the car carefully metering out its 1,036 bhp, the traction-control light flashing feverishly as it translated intent into forward motion rather than wheelspin. The chassis talks; the systems interpret. You can also feel the front electric motors at work on circuit. On turn-in and through tighter corners, there is a subtle pull from the front axle that helps draw the car into the apex, sharpening response and aiding rotation before the rear power takes over. It never feels artificial, just quietly effective. On those same well-used tyres there was a trace of understeer on entry, entirely understandable given the abuse. Yet traction off the apex remained mighty, and the balance stayed trustworthy throughout the lap.
The gearbox on track is borderline telepathic. There is no hesitation, no second-guessing. It gives you the gear you want, when you want it, even if that means snapping a downshift straight into the limiter. The sense of speed is immense, but the clarity through the steering and pedals keeps your head cool. You think you are the hero, and then you realise the calibration is quietly doing the heavy lifting while preserving the fun.
The flip side of all this control and confidence, and it is a genuine flip side rather than a criticism, is that the 849 Testarossa is not the spiciest or most intense Ferrari experience. It does not leave you climbing out drenched in sweat, ears ringing, booking an appointment with both your therapist and your chiropractor. If that is what you are after, Ferrari offers other answers. Cars like the 296 Speciale exist precisely to deliver that kind of raw, nerve-ending intensity. The fact that such different experiences sit side by side within the same range says everything about how broad Ferrari’s offering has become.
The design, too, divides opinion, and I include myself in that. I find the 849 Testarossa visually challenging, particularly with the AF package, complete with its stripes. That is entirely subjective, and there is no questioning the functional brilliance of the aero work, but it lacks the natural elegance of some other Ferraris. For those drawn to more classical proportions and more traditional powertrains, there are alternatives within Maranello’s own catalogue, such as the 12Cilindri, that prioritise form, atmosphere and theatre over outright technical aggression.
None of that detracts from what the 849 Testarossa achieves. It is ferociously fast, deeply confidence-inspiring, and astonishingly complete. It makes four-figure bhp feel usable, approachable and coherent in a way that would have seemed absurd not so long ago. It delivers on a name that set the internet alight, not by leaning on nostalgia, but by reminding us what
Testarossa was always meant to represent. Ferrari has not just revived a legendary badge. It has earned it, but only if you take the time to understand why.