Road test: 2015 Maserati MC Stradale (Centennial Edition)

It would be the simplest thing in the world to use the following 850 words or so to bang on about how Maserati’s ­GranTurismo is now exceedingly long in the tooth, how it’s in dire need of a major update and how it’s comprehensively outgunned by its competitors. Indeed, the same could be said about its most desirable variant, the MC Stradale, which is now available in special “Centennial” trim, in commemoration of its maker’s 100 years in business – an anniversary it celebrated last month.

But to do so would be to miss out on what makes certain cars more special than others, no matter how they let themselves down on a spreadsheet. To dismiss this exotica as irrelevant in the face of competitors such as the Porsche 911 or the new Mercedes AMG GT would be to fall victim to comparison tables and media hearsay – just sometimes, it’s how a car makes you feel that matters, not how fast it goes when the road opens up in front of you.

Not that the MC Stradale is a slouch. Far from it, because it can reach 100kph from rest in 4.5 seconds and can, if you so wish, hit a maximum speed of 303kph. And while the supercar performance tables have moved on a great deal in recent years, this Maserati is surely quick enough for all but the criminally insane.

So it isn’t particularly blistering when you put your foot down. And its six-speed gearbox is, truth be told, a bit of a joke when compared to the latest DSG transmissions that are fitted to even Lamborghinis now. It clunks and procrastinates and makes for far-from-smooth progress that will upset some passengers, there’s no denying it. Based on old Ferrari 599 tech, it would have (just) passed muster when it was first introduced – but not now. Now it just seems like a throwback to times when manufacturers were first dipping their collective toes into the waters of two-pedal performance cars.

So why do I find myself falling in love with these things whenever I get behind their meaty steering wheels? For starters, the cabin is a delightful place to be, all leather and lacquered carbon fibre with a hand-built-by-humans-not-robots vibe that harks back to a time before mass production and automated factory ­processes (just don’t look too close at the occasional glue run). It does what so few car interiors manage to pull off these days: it makes you feel special.

You should be feeling special about this thing long before you open its door to take your seat, however. Unlike the standard GranTurismo, this special MC S manages to properly fill its wheel arches with fat rubber and truly gorgeous 20-inch alloy wheels that subtly feature Maserati’s evocative trident mascot on the outer edges of their spokes. It’s details such as this that remind you that this is a car that has been designed by human beings, not committees. Elsewhere, there’s a carbon-fibre boot spoiler and the bonnet is made from the weave, too, although thankfully here it’s painted the same as the rest of the car in “Rosso Magma”. Further scoops, vents and slashes all point to the fact that this is the beast of the range.

Not that you need such visual stimuli when you turn the 4.7L V8 and it catches after a fraction of a turn. Because, at that point, your ears are treated to one of the undisputed great engine soundtracks – a brief, shrill roar that encourages further blips of the throttle. Honestly, as fed up as I am of drivers of these things tearing through the streets outside my apartment late at night, I can fully understand why they let rip. I just wish they could channel the racket into a pair of headphones rather than my ears at 3am. But given the opportunity, I’d be sorely tempted to have the wail of that V8 bouncing off the skyscrapers – it’s nothing short of epic.

So it looks fabulous and sounds stupendous, but does that translate into dynamism on the move? Yes and no. The basics are there: it’s quick, it suffers from less in the way of oversteer than many moderns (find a road that’s empty enough and you could steer on the throttle all day long) and the massive Brembo stoppers are assuring. Its specially tuned suspension feels stiff but not overly so and there’s a delicacy to its chassis and drivetrain that once again point to it being designed and built by humans. But ultimately, it’s the silly ZF gearbox that lets it down, particularly when driving in urban areas.

It’s practically impossible to execute smooth shifts (it even struggles when in Auto mode), with the car feeling unsettled with each cog change. Once you’re on the open road and at speed it’s less problematic, but still I long for a manual whenever I drive it. Would it put me off buying one? Not a chance. I’d just make sure there was another car in the garage for taking out when occasion demanded.

motoring@thenational.ae