How are Volkswagen Group's super-premium car lines like the humble iPod? Both those ever-shrinking white boxes and these Teutonic heavyweights spawn like hares. Dr. Piech and Mr. Jobs have tapped some collective nerve that responds to incremental newness, fluttering at the mere suggestion of something just arrived and not really needed. Look at brands such as Bentley, Lamborghini, and Bugatti, all of them assimilators of this lesson. Don't care for the plain ol' Veyron? How about a Hermes edition? It's only twice the price! Gallardo Superleggera not doing it for you? May we introduce your wallet to the LP560-4?
The thing is, this is a sound business plan. When, for example, Bentley saw that a sine wave might emerge in its Continental GT coupe sales figures, it launched the GT Speed to backfill its transactional valleys. Similarly, to keep the momentum in its Continental Flying Spur, it has given the car a so-called Speed version, too.
You would be right to wonder how Bentley could substantially improve on the excellence of its Flying Spur sedan, but you'd also be wrong, because in addition to being better, the 2009 Bentley Continental Flying Spurs are also much, much newer.
The Spur has been on sale since 2006, and let's face it: Would you really want to be seen in an '06 model today, a whopping three (3) years later? I mean, it's an automotive swayback, limping exhaustedly toward McMusty's olde glue shoppe. (Note to Bentley: Trade-ins of these cars are just going to take up space on dealer lots, so we'll do you a favor and let you keep a sufficient quantity of them at Motive HQ. If you guys could pick up the gas, that'd be great.)
For the reasons stated above and for 2009, the base car gets a substantial makeover. There is a revised Servotronic steering system, larger anti-roll bars, new bushings, and new spring and damper rates, all tipped toward lighter efforts, increased stability, and more comfort. Outwardly, the car gets a more upright grille, larger lower air intakes, chromed head- and taillamp bezels, a blacked-out rear diffuser valance, and chrome-strip extensions around the rear bumper. Inside, there is new acoustical glass and sound insulation, aluminum "B" logo pedals, and new rear seating options. Also, there is available leather piping, wood inlays/marquetry, seven leather schemes, and a new dash material made entirely of the crushed skulls of your enemies. Just joking about that last one, but with just the non-custom (Mulliner) options there are a whopping 6120 different color and trim configurations.
As significant as the details are to these cars' buyers, what is remarkable is the deftness with which Bentley has split the all-wheel-drive sedan's personality. For the plushbottoms who require more comfort, there is the Flying Spur with its significant reductions in tire, wind, and cabin noise, as well as a comfier ride. Those who care about driving hard will welcome its performance counterpart.
The Flying Spur Speed bumps power from the base car's preexisting 552 hp to 600, and its 479 lb-ft of torque to 553, an increase of nine and 15 percent, respectively. While keeping displacement of the twin-turbo W-12 motor fixed at 6.0 liters, Bentley installed a new crankcase to reduce internal losses, a lighter-weight single-chain camshaft drive, a new exhaust system with less backpressure, lighter-weight con rods for improved engine response, new pistons to withstand the increased cylinder pressures, and a strengthened 6-speed manumatic transmission. The performance gains are impressive: 0-60 in 4.6 seconds and 0-100 in 10.5 seconds, versus 4.9 and 11.3 in the regular Spur. The base car's numbers are an achievement in themselves when you remember that this is a 5450-lb machine.
More changes abound: The Speed gets a solid-mounted front subframe, a bigger-still rear anti-roll bar, stiffer bushings, 10-mm lower ride height all around, retuned steering, revised damper-control software, and a new trapezoidal link at the rear. The goal was to get optimal front-to-rear phasing in the chassis, so that both ends complemented each other and so that the rear would start generating turn-in as quickly as possible.
I devoted most of my critical attention, such as it is, to the Speed. My car was painted a shade of green just a little bit lighter than BRG, and it was subtly metallic. The leather package combined diamond-quilted, saddle-colored seats with a green dash and brown stitching. There were knurled aluminum knobs everywhere, bookmatched veneers (my car had the suggestion of a face in the passenger's-side cove), and chrome-plated zinc pulls over brass levers. There is a great economy and consistency of materials here — no cheater panels of plastic or stopgap surfaces that don't relate to anything else. It's all wood, chrome, and leather. Bentley also offers an optional 3-spoke, multifunction steering wheel in the Speed, and if you have the means, I highly recommend it. Via even more knurled alloy knobs, it manages the radio and the cruise control, now with an optional adaptive feature.
Briefly, a word about that radio. It is built for Bentley by Naim, home to some of the best, most expensive ($30,000 CD players) pieces of UK-sourced audio. This system, with its 15 speakers, 1100 watts, and $6900 price tag, is the crispest, most live-sounding stereo I've ever heard in a car. It's like listening to music with a set of reference-quality headphones on — there's stuff you'll hear for the first time in even the most familiar recordings. While cranking Led Zep's "Black Dog," I think I heard the late, great John Bonham getting it on with a 15-year-old.
So how does the Speed drive? Basically, it's like piloting a very large stick of butter. And not your supermarket Land O'Lakes, either — we're talking Plugra or President here. Extremely high fat content, completely consistent throughout. The chassis modifications have resulted in a car that moves as a cohesive unit and manages its weight like a prizefighter. There is no nervous deflection at the wheels or hesitation in the body's transitions, just natural and direct responses, all overlaid with soft, progressive control feel. The carbon-ceramic brakes, a $16,500 option, are the easiest such binders I've ever had the pleasure to modulate. Gear changes are incredibly smooth and uninterruptive. The steering, too, is without stiction or on-center vagueness. Because the controls are so beautifully matched and since every reaction is so predictable, the Flying Spur Speed drives far smaller than its actual size. Even with the weight of the W-12 hung over the front axle, the car simply devours turns. True, the optional 20-inch wheels do transmit some tire slap over expansion strips, but you hear it more than feel it.
And like the rich European emollients on which this rickety simile rests, the power is addictive. With the Speed's shift lever knocked into Sport mode, you get a little exhaust burble every time you lift off the throttle. But the impulse to hear the noise is outweighed by the impulse to keep your foot in it. Peak torque is available from idle or thereabouts (1750 rpm) and power unspools in one long, flowing ribbon. And while impressively tidy in town, the car's stability and competence increase with speed. It is happiest doubling highway speed limits, or so we hear.
But is it worth its $198,500 price tag, its $24,400 increase over the regular Flying Spur? If you're asking that question, you're probably not spending 200 large on a car. Besides, what's another $24,400 between friends, especially when it sharpens the Flying Spur's teeth? Don't forget that the Speed comes standard with the Mulliner package upgrades that would fetch about $12,000 on the commoner's Spur: drilled pedals, indented headliner, quilted leather, and diamond shift knob. So there's your value right there. To the people buying these cars, dropping $200,000 on a Bentley is roughly equivalent to one of us wage slaves spending $200 on a sweater. Or maybe an iPod.
