Reviewers have long cut Aston Martin too much slack. They'd concentrate on the cars' hand-built nature and thoroughly British pedigree as if that excused lousy quality, extreme weight, disappointing performance, inhumane ergonomics, trucklike chassis and hideous expense. Then, using the hoariest cliché, they'd apply the rhetorical coup de grace by reminding readers that James Bond drove one and that that pretty much sealed the greatness deal.

The new 2006 Aston Martin V8 Vantage, however, is a no-excuses two-seat sports car. It's beautifully built, performs brilliantly and while the ergonomics aren't perfect, they're not bad. All Aston had to do to achieve that was give up some Britishness.

And at $119,340 the Vantage is a bargain.

Beyond beautiful
As a sculpture the V8 Vantage is one of the most stunning sports cars of all time; the body is tautly stretched over the 102.4-inch wheelbase with minimal overhangs, the fenders cover the 19-inch Bridgestone Potenza tires with devastating sensuousness and the windshield is fitted into its one-piece aluminum frame at such an extreme angle that the car's profile is practically ballistic.

But this isn't a car that only looks good from 50 feet away. It's actually more beautiful up close. The detailing is all very restrained and tasteful, but the body is undeniably provocative — the automotive equivalent of Kate Beckinsale in a skintight Versace gown. And it makes cars like the scoops-laden Ferrari F430 seem almost vulgar in comparison.

It says "Hand Built in Great Britain" right there on the Vantage's door sills, and this car proves the label should no longer make you wince. If you're thinking a frame built by carpenters using fresh-hewn ash and metalwork with "close enough" panel fit, get over it; those days are long gone.

The "VH" (Vertical Horizontal) structure that underpins the Vantage is an intricate assembly of aluminum extrusions, steel and magnesium castings and composite body panels, all bonded together with advanced adhesives, self-piercing rivets and welds so beautiful you can run your fingers over them and never feel a bump or joint. Some of the aluminum extrusions, like those framing the engine bay and bolstering the cockpit structure, are so luscious the designers decided they were better off not covering them at all.

Throw in details like ventilated disc brakes clamped by perfectly detailed Brembo calipers and the result is a car that is thrilling to behold in every conceivable way — and stops from 60 mph in just 113 feet. It's a $107,400 semi-exotic ($119,340 with 19-inch wheels, satellite navigation and a few other options) that packs both the visual firepower of a $250,000 super-exotic and the restrained elegance of a Porsche 911.

That's a neat trick.

Leveraging the network
Aston Martin is now owned by Ford and this dinkiest division of the Blue Oval has put the resources of its parent to good use in the V8 Vantage. For instance, the DOHC 32-valve V8 itself is based on the same block castings and general design used in both Jaguar products and the Lincoln LS, but has a personality all its own.

Assembled in Aston's engine workshop in Cologne, Germany, (as all current Aston engines are — there goes some Brit content right there) the V8's 89mm cylinder bores and relatively short 86mm crank stroke result in a nominal 4.3 liters of displacement (the 4.2-liter V8 in the Jaguar S-Type has 86mm bores and a 90.3mm stroke). That short stroke design combined with Aston's own cylinder heads, variable valve timing on the intake valves and a dry-sump lubrication system results in a V8 that revs with astonishing eagerness and a sound that's somewhere between the growl of a panther and a Jack Roush NASCAR machine.

In a world of 400-horsepower "base" Corvettes and 1,001-hp Bugatti Veyrons, the 380 hp available in the V8 Vantage seems almost modest — particularly since that power peak occurs at a screaming 7,000 rpm. That's deceptive. Stirring the rear-mounted six-speed manual transaxle takes some muscle and the Vantage rips to 60 mph in 5.1 seconds and consumes the quarter-mile in 13.3 seconds at 106 mph — quicker than the last base C6 Corvette we tested. And it does that with ease, grace and straightforward technique.

Beyond 0-to-60-mph and quarter-mile acceleration, this engine is both easygoing and flexible. While the 302 pound-foot torque peak occurs at a rather lofty 5,000 rpm, there's grunt available from just off idle right up to the redline. Yes, there are faster cars, but there aren't many that feel so eager or are more fun to play with.

Environmental science
The V8 Vantage's seats aren't for the wide-of-butt, the window switches are mounted a bit awkwardly on the doors and the crystal start button doesn't change the fact that it would be more convenient to just twist the ignition key, but the glamour factor of the Aston's interior overwhelms those hiccups. What it can't disguise is that the thick suede-covered A-pillars restrict vision, particularly when diving toward the apex of a corner.

With the speedometer needle sweeping clockwise and the tachometer's pointer heading counterclockwise, the Vantage's cockpit is always a high-drama environment. The steering wheel is exactly the right diameter and the shifter rises up on the center tunnel to perch precisely where the driver's right hand naturally falls. Throw in the glorious sounds rising from the exhaust and this car envelops the senses in a way that cars running paddle shifters and other electronic interferences can't approach. As refined as the Vantage is, there's also something very elemental about it.

Thanks to its dry-sump system, the Vantage's power plant sits low between the front suspension's wishbones — just as the transmission's mass similarly sits between the rear suspension's wishbones. The result is a very balanced chassis with very little body roll, even when diving into off-camber corners at extreme velocities. It ripped through the slalom at a thrilling 68.6 mph. The rack and pinion steering isn't as quick as a Ferrari's or as precise as a Porsche's but it's plenty good and provides significantly more accurate feedback than the heavier steering in a Corvette or Mercedes SL.

Aston packs the V8 Vantage with such technologies as ABS, electronic brake assist, traction control, stability control and positive torque control, but they all operate almost transparently. Turning off the traction control only amplifies the car's reflexes; it doesn't turn it into a crazed tail-wagger.

This isn't a luxury car with sporty overtones, but a sports car. It rides rather stiffly but offers immediate turn-in, tenacious grip and unflappable transitions in compensation. It is as engrossing to drive as practically any other car in production.

Best Aston ever?
With the V12-powered DB9 and Vanquish positioned above it, the V8 Vantage is as close as this tiny, ancient company has ever come to producing an "entry-level" model. But the Vantage will redefine Aston Martin for the 21st century by moving it from the lunatic supercar fringe and positioning it as a sophisticated alternative to high-end Mercedes sports cars, low-end Ferraris and, most directly, the Porsche 911. In Southern California, where 911s are more common than house cats, the V8 Vantage is as conspicuously imperious as a British lion (with a German heart and American financing) strolling up Rodeo Drive.

It may be a little less English than before, but the Vantage V8 is the sort of world-class product that puts the Great into Britain. No excuses need be made. No slack need be cut.

Four doors and four seats are not the standout points expected to headline in an Aston Martin. But the handsome Rapide concept, for many the star of the NAIAS, is no ordinary Aston.

This is the company’s first serious stab at a super-luxury sedan and a development that underlines the confidence and resurgence of modern-day Aston, blossoming in its 18th year of Ford ownership.

Sitting atop a three-car range—V8 Vantage, DB9 and Vanquish—Rapide is Aston’s answer to the upcoming Porsche Panamera, the rumored Lamborghini four-door and possibly even a Ferrari four-door.
In that sense it contributes to a fast-emerging new segment of four-seat, four-door supercars. Not the formal, upright sedans Rolls-Royce, Bentley, Mercedes and Maybach make, but informal, low-roofed coupe-like models with the sex appeal of a supercar cocktail—shaken with a dash of four-door practicality.

In rare bright English sunlight at Aston’s test track in Warwickshire, the Rapide looks as good as under the catwalk spotlights of its auto show debut. The fluid lines and the aggressive, road-eating grille of the Marek Reichman-penned design meld together into a beautiful continuum.

Then you notice how low the car is. If it was a ’60s Le Mans racer, Rapide would be badged GT52—just 12 inches taller than a GT40. For a four-door in a driving world hijacked by legislation, that’s incredibly low—half an inch lower than a Ferrari Scaglietti.
Rapide’s inviting and bright rear cabin, with soft leather and polished wood, is a tactile treat. Light floods through the full-length electrochromatic roof panel even when clouds block the sun.
At the same time, this is no compact sedan. At 197 inches long, the Rapide matches any of the Mercedes S-Class/Audi A8/Jaguar XJ genre, though that’s not as obvious as might be expected. Parked next to a tall Land Rover LR3, that low stance hides the lanky dimension, with its 9.8-inch stretch over the aluminum-chassis DB9 donor car.

Inside, the individual rear bucket seats are surprisingly comfortable, with the main constraint being the width, shoehorned between the trans-axle gearbox and rear wheel arch, and the difficulty of finding reasonable foot room.

The former will be hard to improve on without a fundamental engineering rethink, but the latter is already a work in progress, according to chief engineer Jeremy Main. The solution is a new drive system for the electric seats that will free room under the front seat for the rear passenger’s feet.
Unlike most cars of this ilk, Rapide’s rear cabin is not a gloomy place. Light-colored trim helps, as does the large rear hatch and deep rear windows. But the full-length electrochromatic roof panel is the key here. At the touch of a button, the obscured-glass roof magically clears to let in even more light. A consequence of this is heat soak. We needed the air conditioning on cool, even on a 50-degree day. The roof also frees up an extra couple of inches of headroom.

Rapide designer Reichman says the rear seat package is designed around a 60th-percentile adult, better than the average coupe, but no match for a luxury sedan.
No matter. It’s up front where we really want to be. Slotting into Rapide’s driving seat is like nuzzling into a DB9. To keep costs down, the seat and instrument panel are carryover, so the relationship between wheel, pedals and controls is pure DB9. That means a deep dashboard to cover the V12, which is located far back in the engine bay, and a distant windshield, positioned with one eye on a sporty slope for great styling and another on the latest crash regulations.

Minor switchgear is carried over from the DB9, but there is a new center stack of controls that is much better than the DB9’s tiny plasticky buttons (the DB9 will get this improvement, too).

Aston’s push-button starter cranks the glorious V12 into life and the Rapide rumbles onto the test track. First impression is the Rapide is quite refined, despite being a concept. Running show cars are typically noisy beasts, and with the gearbox just inches away from the back seat, we expected to hear nothing but gnashing gears. But even in a concept bereft of engineering development, the gearbox is quiet.
Because we’re limited to 35 mph or so, we can only get an impression of on-road behavior. Like the DB9, in tight turns the Rapide feels quite wide and placing it accurately takes a bit of adjustment. But turn-in feels reasonably sharp despite the extended wheelbase, the rear wheels follow the fronts faithfully, and maybe there is a hint of extra straight-line stability.

Appropriately, the snarling 480-hp V12 feels like it wants to propel the Rapide up to its 186-mph-plus maximum as soon as possible. For a prototype, the Rapide rides with suppleness and steers faithfully, a reflection of its production-car underpinnings.

That word—production—keeps cropping up, yet officially Aston hasn’t committed to build the Rapide. A chat with an Aston official soon reveals the will is there, so no wonder a feasibility study is giving the engineering center plenty to do right now. More significantly, Aston boss Ulrich Bez has a track record of making the right things happen quickly. Ever the pragmatic engineer, Bez predicts production to begin no sooner than early 2009.
There are many details to be sorted out. Structurally, the rear bulkhead has disappeared to make the open, hatchback load area with its flat floor. As a result, the fuel tank shrinks to an impossibly small volume for the real world. Another unknown is whether the DB9’s bonded aluminum chassis is stiff enough to cope with the near-10-inch wheelbase stretch without costly modification. There are other things, too—the position of the interior front door handles, for instance. Because the front doors are simply shortened DB9 doors, the handles are too far back.

The business case for Rapide also demands defining who would buy a four-door Aston, if there are enough of them to sustain sales over a probable six-year product cycle, and what they would be willing to pay.

Aston doesn’t profess to know the answers to these questions, but having sampled the Rapide we can only hope the right answers can be found. This is one handsome, desirable and classy car, and one the sports car world deserves to see in production.