Range Rover Sport SVR 2015 Review

When it comes to the thorny issue of performance SUVs, we must be getting close to such a reckoning, as they’re definitely here to stay. It’s only 13 years since the first Cayenne shocked the Porsche faithful into a paroxysm of rage, and now – in volume terms – the brand has effectively become an SUV maker with a nice sideline in sportscars. Throughout the top of the motor industry it’s the same story, rival manufacturers slinging billions of engineering investment into the unlikely quest to build the fastest and best-handling off-roader.

There’s certainly demand, both in the lumpier and bumpier parts of the world that are usually used as justification for such models, but also in places like Australia where enthusiasts know they’re meant to know better.

Sure, we’re supposed to hate the idea of a performance car that weighs so much more than it has to, and sits so much higher. But it’s also hard to deny the dark appeal of something that combines so much go with so much show, plus the justificatory possibility that you might actually take it off-road one day. Well, you might if the road has washed away.

An SUV will never be a proper sportscar, regardless of what the marketing department says. But it can still be a bloody nice place to spend time while travelling quickly and comfortably.

Perhaps the biggest surprise about the Range Rover Sport SVR is that we’ve had to wait so long for it. Land Rover has been building faster Range Rovers for years, but the SVR is the first fully-fledged performance product from JLR’s recently launched Special Vehicle Operations division, and as such we should see it as the equivalent of an M-badged BMW or AMG-Mercedes.

Although the SVR branding will ultimately be applied to both Land Rover and Jaguar products, with each meant to be the ultimate performance iteration of that particular line, it’s telling that the first outing for this brave new direction is a Rangie.

First impressions aren’t exactly underwhelming, but they flag up a suspicion that the SVR is maybe going to be a bit too soft-edged for its designated performance mission, a bit too nice.

They’re also deceptive, as I discover later on, but at low speeds the SVR feels to be as quiet, well insulated and as comfortable as the standard Range Rover Sport.

The air springs deliver a pliant, well-damped ride, even on the optional 22-inch wheels and driving over some of the UK’s low grade tarmac. The supercharged V8 engine exhales through a rortier sounding exhaust, but it doesn’t feel noticeably quicker than the already-rapid stock V8 when you stick to the top of the throttle travel.

The logical inference, as conditioned by dozens of firmer-riding and meatier-feeling sports versions, is that the corollary of having lost nothing means that the SVR won’t have gained on the other side of the sheet either. The spec reinforces this casual assumption that the SVR is the standard V8 plus a small bit, power rises from the Supercharged’s 380 to 410kW, meaning the 5.0-litre engine is in the same state of tune as when fitted to the Jaguar F-Type Coupe R.

Kerbweight is claimed to be 40kg less than the standard Sport V8, but that still means a porky 2335kg overall.

Yet this perception of adequacy chances as soon as you unleash the SVR for the first time. Order full ahead by mashing the throttle and the SVR delivers instant, startling pace. The transmission kicks down seamlessly, the engine roars and the whole car adopts a slight-but-noticeable hull-up stance, making for the horizon like a racing speedboat.

The official claim of a 4.7sec 0-100km/h feels pessimistic after you’ve made a full launch start. And it’s not just quicker than any other Range Rover, it feels far keener too. The transmission is the same eight-speed automatic as fitted to the rest of the clan, but with software changes that are claimed to help it deliver upshifts up to 50 per cent quicker.

Other dynamic cues are all turned up as well: the steering has more precision; the brakes bite harder and with more enthusiasm; and cornering response feels a magnitude keener.

And it’s twistier roads that bring out the best in the SVR.

Having been given the car in the UK with a free choice of where to go we tested it on Exmoor, where England keeps some of its twistiest, bumpiest and crestiest – and where every dynamic problem needs to be solved in at least three dimensions. Ride quality stays good, the suspension discovers a firmness at speed (especially with the driving mode selector turned to ‘Dynamic’) but it’s not harsh and body control remains excellent.

The steering hasn’t gained weight over the standard Range Rover, but there’s far more feel and much keener responses. The vast 295/40-22 ContiSportContact tyres generate huge grip, but this doesn’t smother sensation as it is allowed to in some other ultra-quick SUVs.

At lower speeds you can accelerate into understeer, basic physics determines that. But at bigger velocities torque vectoring system steps in to help keep the car on a chosen trajectory. It feels far more agile and adjustable than something this size, and this height, has any right to.

Off-road use is going to be limited by mechanical sympathy more than anything else. The SVR has the same ground clearance and 840mm wading depth of the standard Range Rover Sport, and still boasts a switchable low ratio gearing. But the beautiful low-lipped alloy wheels are not going to withstand anything other than brief contact with the wilderness unsullied, and the tyres are definitely road biased.

That said, we successfully traversed a couple of rutted gravel tracks to prove that the SVR could at least venture off hard surfaces. Whether owners will ever choose to do so is another matter; probably about as likely as making an attempt on the car’s claimed 8:14 Nurburgring Nordschlieffe time.

Complaints? The cabin lacks much to differentiate it from the standard Range Rover Sport. The SVR gets bucket seats, with silly-looking pretend harness cut-outs, but otherwise it’s lacking in much of the sort of bling that the buyer of a top-spec performance SUV might want.

It’s comfortable over long journeys and very well insulated from road and wind noise, but the satnav and central touchscreen feels at least a generation out of date with blocky graphics and slow responses.

Fuel economy is also predictably steep; we averaged 11.2L/100km after a 110km/h highway cruise but a less impressive 19.9L/100km after a blast over open moorland roads. But this is unlikely to be a major issue for anybody with the means to buy one in the first place, and the 105 litre fuel tank gives decent range.

The SVR isn’t the fastest SUV (the Cayenne Turbo S has already comprehensively beaten its Nurburgring time) but on first impressions it’s one of the nicest to actually spend time with.

And while you can certainly make the case that it’s still as fundamentally pointless as any other performance SUV, it’s also very hard not to see the appeal of something so multi-talented.