Maserati MC20 - long-term review

Last time out you heard we’re living with a £310,000 Maserati MC20, but we didn’t yet delve into the darker corners of its particular spec. Hold on tight, because things are about to get carbon-y.

Let’s be clear: this is not a tactic exclusive to Maserati. Charging telephone numbers for carbon weave has been a tried-and-tested tactic in the supercar realm for over a decade now, and ‘MC20 ART’ (subtle, eh?) was destined to spend its life starring in photo and video shoots. So it’s no surprise Maserati decided to empty the entire catalogue onto it.

The ‘Exterior Carbon Pack’ ensures your front splitter and rear diffuser are resplendent in carbon. The door innards are also exposed carbon – the marble-effect ‘chopped carbon’ kind rather than a woven mesh – which makes the theatrics of raising the doors thirty-eight-per-cent more ‘look-at-me’. Weirdly, the carbon pack also includes a lightweight bonnet… made from fibreglass, the data sheet says.

All of the above is a chunky £36,240. Or about the same as a second-hand Bentley Continental. And you still need to find £4,855 for the carbon fibre-clad engine bay.

Naturally, you’ll want the interior to match with its own fleet of carbon trinkets. Door sills, steering wheel, gauge cluster hood… that’s another £7,000. Luckily this MC20 retains its standard alloy shift paddles instead of carbon ones. Yes, they’re pinched from the Alfa Romeo Giulia saloon, but they’re also the single most expensive-feeling, sculpted paddleshifters this side of a Lamborghini Revuelto. So we’re not complaining one bit.

Like the colour? Hi-vis yellow, aka ‘Giallo Genio’ is just shy of £10,000. This design of wheel is £3,840, and you shell out another £1,100 to have the brake calipers lurking within daubed in blue.

Then we get to the really fun bit, where prices seem to have been chosen using a dartboard and a blindfold. Electrically motorised sports seats? £5,900. Oh you wanted them heated? Sorry, another five hundred quid.

You get the idea. Supercars charge you money for stuff you don’t need, on the basis that yours will look rubbish next to its classmates if you don’t get ticky with the boxes. And then they charge you all over again for stuff that comes as standard on a Dacia. 

Funny thing is, the MC20 is on the money. An in-depth and incredibly scientific survey of my neighbours had them guessing the price of the new loud car that wakes them up most mornings at around £250,000-£300k. That’s within a carbon fibre sun-visor of being absolutely spot on.

Main bugbear so far? Well, it’s the ride height. Or lack thereof.

The MC20 is equipped with a nose-lifter. It’s an extra £3,250 for that, since you ask. No issues at all with how easy it is to access: there’s a dedicated up/down button right there on the steering wheel. No mucking about with a touchscreen like recent Ferraris. No twanging hidden stalks like older McLarens.

But once it’s back down at regular cruising altitude, the MC20 is on extremely intimate terms with your average British B-road. Even A-roads, sometimes. Get sucked into a compression and with a shoulder-clenching graunch, it shaves off a few more millimetres of its floor. I’ve never known a supercar scrape as much as this one, and it doesn’t even look especially low.

Plus, roads in Modena where this thing was signed off are hardly glass-smooth. So the test drivers must’ve noticed, right?