Bentley - Luxury Car Reviews

Traffic, like life, moves slowly in America’s retirement capital. Maybe it’s that retirees are free of commitments, or it’s a subconscious attempt to delay the inevitable, or maybe everyone just dawdles lest they show up for dinner before the restaurant opens. Whatever the cause, Florida’s slow-motion transit means that while you can buy a $342,000, 190-mph sedan, even the truly wealthy can’t buy time. These are the profound insights you ponder while making the single-file march through the Florida Keys at 10-mph below the limit in a car named Speed.
The 2015 Bentley Mulsanne Speed, with its 530 horsepower and 811 lb-ft of torque, would prefer to move much faster. That torque figure is second only to that of the Bugatti Veyron (until you start counting heavy-duty pickups and niche supercar builders like Koenigsegg), yet neither is the monotony entirely unrepresentative. A sedan like this will inevitably spend a significant portion of its life slogging through the sprawl as it connects the heliports to the marinas in the world’s wealthiest, most urbane cities.

Britain’s Own Eight-Cylinder Ancestor

The Mulsanne Speed owes its big output to an engine that’s energetic even if it is nearing retirement age. Like the enduring Chevrolet small-block, Bentley’s 6.8-liter V-8 has roots in the 1950s and to this day retains architectural ties, such as the bore spacing and the pushrod-actuated valvetrain, to the original engine. Over many decades of development, though, this eight-cylinder has also sprouted modern features like two turbochargers, a variable-valve-timing cam phaser, and the ability to run on four cylinders to save fuel. The 2015 Mulsanne Speed introduces new cylinder heads, improvements it shares with the standard Mulsanne. Tuning differences give the Speed its extra 25 horsepower and 59 lb-ft of torque.
Bentley engineers say that the Speed’s 811 lb-ft of twist is almost enough to slip the tires around the wheels they’re mounted on. That’s a problem we last heard about while driving the Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, a road-legal race car that wears tires molded from Krazy Glue. There is ample torque to smoke the Dunlops on the rear-drive Bentley, but the electronically massaged throttle tip-in and the gentle squeeze of the long-travel brake pedal would rather facilitate graceful transitions; heaven forbid someone in the back seat spills the champagne. Flatten the right pedal and the rear end squats on its 21-inch wheels, the nose rises like a speedboat’s prow, and the $3330 Flying B hood ornament becomes the rifle sight guiding your trajectory. At the low 4500-rpm redline, the eight-speed automatic slides into the next gear as trainlike momentum builds.
Bentley claims the Speed is 0.3-second quicker to 60 mph than the standard Mulsanne; we estimate that the Speed will do the deed in 4.7 seconds. Its standout attribute, though, is not so much how quickly it moves, but how unremarkable speed feels from behind the steering wheel. We saw 160 mph when a little-used airstrip presented 10,500 feet of traffic-free runway. The speedometer was the only indicator that we’d broken into triple-digit velocities.
This is the first Mulsanne to offer carbon-fiber trim to complement the sea of quilted, perforated, and hand-stitched leather that wraps the cabin. Yet at roughly 6000 pounds, nothing about the Mulsanne Speed is lightweight. In the Sport setting, the air springs and the adaptive dampers are slightly stiffer and the hydraulic steering a touch heavier than in the standard mode, although the Speed retains the isolation to make a pothole feel like a dimple. In fast corners, the Bentley leans on its tires and suspension with a solid, stable feel.

To Drive or To Be Driven? That Is the Question

Bentley tells us that the distinction between a Mulsanne owner and a Mulsanne Speed buyer is that the former is more likely to be a passenger while the latter is apt to drive his own car. That hasn’t stopped the Brits from lavishing luxuries on the rear-seat passengers. Our $407,235 test car came equipped with a $10,970 champagne cooler and a trio of crystal Bentley flutes, plus $28,760 worth of entertainment equipment, including a 20-speaker Naim sound system, video monitors in the backs of the front-seat headrests, and picnic tables that motor up and out to reveal an iPad and a Bluetooth keyboard.
The Mulsanne Speed’s identity is a dichotomy; it’s a purpose-built chauffeured ride on one hand and a decent driver’s car on the other. It’s definitely not a sports car nor even a sports sedan. The Mulsanne Speed is simply more: more power, more torque, more exclusivity, and more money. The only thing it can’t offer? More time.

For automobiles, 11 years is a long showroom tenure. That’s how long Bentley’s last flagship sedan, the Arnage, was in business—uncomfortably close to twice the industry average. Every now and then, we all wake up in the same shirt we had on yesterday, but make a habit of wearing the same outfit two days in a row, and you’re going to lose some friends. The Arnage was losing friends rapidly—sales dropped from a high of 689 in 2005 to just 217 in 2009, although there’s a slight chance that the global financial situation was a factor, too.
For 2010, the folks in Crewe introduced the Mulsanne, an all-new dreadnought to replace the aging Arnage. It rides on a new platform exclusive to Bentley, although some suspension pieces are pillaged from Audi (the front control arms come from the A8, the rears from the A6 Avant). At 219.5 inches overall, the Mulsanne is about seven inches long­er than the Arnage and less than three inches shorter than a Chevrolet Suburban. Speaking of Suburbans, the Mulsanne’s 6036-pound curb weight just trails that of the last four-wheel-drive Suburban we tested. Bentley’s new flagship carries six more inches between its axles than the Arnage, which contributes to an appreciable boost in interior space.
Although it may not immediately appear so (Bentley V-8s have displaced 6.8 liters for the better part of Betty White’s career), the engine is all-new as well. While the pushrod valvetrain, the bore-center spacing, and the bore and stroke remain the same, the block, the heads, and the major internal parts are new. For the first time ever in a Bentley, the Mulsanne’s engine features cylinder deactivation. With a pair of Mitsubishi turbos squeezing a maximum of 16 psi into the manifold, the big eight grinds out 505 horsepower at 4200 rpm and, oh, 752 pound-feet of torque at just 1750. That’s only 13 pound-feet fewer than the ­diesel in a heavy-duty Chevy Silverado, peaking just 150 rpm later. The Mulsanne’s redline is a similarly ­diesel-low 4500 rpm. This sort of grunt could affect plate tectonics. Rope this thing to one bank of the Mariana Trench, and you could cinch it shut like a doctor suturing a lacerated thumb.
Based largely on its string of Le Mans 24-hours wins before and after the Great Depression obliterated the car business (plus one repeat victory in 2003), Bentley says it builds cars for drivers, a seemingly preposterous claim. It builds cars that are the size of  houses, as opulent as old English manors, and as expensive as the average suburban castle. Cars for drivers? Bah! Sounds like cars for residents. To test our theory, we decided to live in the Mulsanne for a weekend.
As cars go, the Mulsanne is better suited to living than most. The square footage inside is roughly what this $328,365 example’s price tag would buy in Manhattan, and the furnishings are supremely comfortable. Numerous 12-volt outlets scattered around the interior allow simultaneous operation of a TV, a grill, and a refrigerator, and the rear seating compartment boasts power shades on all windows. However, the Mulsanne’s heating system, reliant as it is on a twin-turbo V-8, is vastly less efficient than the heating systems of most homes. On the plus side, it’s highly doubtful your furnace could propel anything to a top speed of 187 mph.
On the list of tasks for which a Bentley is perfectly suited, accruing straight-line speed ranks right alongside the other important stuff; things like cultivating envy, sowing seeds of jealousy, and inspiring covetousness. Were one to be so crass as to drag-race a Mulsanne, his win light would illuminate in just 13.4 seconds as he whisked past at 105 mph. Along the way, 60 mph would have fallen in 4.9 seconds, 100 in 12 flat. Of course, effort is so déclassé. The most incredible thing about the Mulsanne’s engine—the “6 3/4-litre,” as it’s been known to the decimal-averse for decades, is backed by the ZF eight-speed auto currently found in the Audi A8, the BMW 760Li and 5-series GT, the Rolls-Royce Ghost, and your underwear drawer—is how easily it catapults such tremendous mass. It’s like having world-champion strongman Mariusz Pudzianowski help you move your fridge—a monumental task for a mere mortal, in this case accomplished with no evident exertion. Credit the low redline for the lazy impression, as it has the ZF snatching the next gear just as the engine starts to sound like it might be trying. Instead, the soundtrack is a relaxed, low rumble; pure, unruffled snort.

Above: The sapelli pommelle wood veneers add $4630 to the cost of the Mulsanne but look about $4630 better than the knotty-pine paneling in your rumpus room. Top right: Drool-proof hides.

This being a Bentley, the sensation of speed is limited to the surreal blurring of passing scenery. Close your eyes at 80 mph (only recommended for passengers), and you might honestly believe the vehicle is stationary. The only disruption in the driving experience is a mild tremor when four cylinders deactivate during cruising, but we only noticed this if the air and the radio were off and we were in the middle of a deep-breathing exercise. At the track, our test driver noted that the car was hands-off dead smooth at 170 mph and higher. The Mulsanne’s greatest feat, though, is cosseting the driver in this sort of serenity without entirely isolating him from the driving experience.
It filters out untoward road imperfections but not in the floaty  way that a Rolls-Royce does. The steering is not so boorish as to be quick, but it is extremely direct, precise, and even a little communicative. The wheel is the Mulsanne captain’s mole, secretly feeding him information—road textures, slip angles, and stock options—the rest of the car sugarcoats. Throw the Bentley most ungentlemanly into a turn, and the wheel weights up like the helm of a car weighing half as much—okay, maybe three-quarters as much. Thanks to near-50/50 weight distribution, the understeer to which the car defaults can quickly be balanced out, and if you feel like drifting your Bentley, the rear tires put up the meagerest of fights against the engine’s 752 pound-feet of torque. With its immense weight, the Mulsanne might have tilled a rut around our skidpad had it stuck for more than 0.81 g, and its 165-foot stopping distance had us expecting the pavement in front of the car to be crumpled like a rug shoved to one side of  the room.

Above left: Pitiful that after all these years Bentley continues to spell “Liter” incorrectly. Author and outsized bluegrass picker Jared Gall makes even the gargantuan Mulsanne appear petite.

Serenity as a car doesn’t necessarily translate to comfort as a home. The obvious bedroom is next to the pilothouse, but no car seat will ever be as comfortable as, you know, a bed. As a result of sleeping in the front seats, we ended up needing their massaging function, a $3000 option (that includes ventilation) for the fronts and outboard rears. You can’t hang out in your bedroom all the time, which makes the back seat the ideal living room. But, while it is comfortable and the seats do recline, they  won’t do so to a suitable angle for falling asleep while watching golf, which renders them insufficient. On the whole, the Mulsanne makes a piss-poor residence.
Its interior might not be great living quarters, but it is nearly unmatched in hedonism. The leather headliner might be the largest single piece of  leather we’ve ever seen in a car—so expansive that we half expected to find an udder hidden along an edge—but it is certainly not a lonely swath. Bentley says as many as 17 hides are used in a single Mulsanne interior, and they cover everything above ankle height. As expected, the environs are so opulent you feel like you ought to leave your shoes at the curb. We bought a welcome mat to place outside of our Mulsanne for just this purpose—well, and because welcome mats separate man from apes.
Soft and fragrant as the leather is, the real eye-catcher inside is the unbroken ring of  wood circling the cabin at its beltline. It looks as though a sapele tree has just finished a long soak in the tub, even wrapping behind the rear headrests at the leading edge of the guest bedroom—were we not living in the Mulsanne, we’d call this a parcel shelf. The wood is polished to a depth that invites snorkeling, and it looks to be made of full trunks instead of mere veneers. Walnut and piano black are no-cost options; the “sapelli pommele” is one of a half-dozen optional woods ($4630). Add the $1220 inlay and $2265 for the tables that fold out of the front seatbacks, and our car had more than $8000 in wood alone. Other highlights that swelled the price of the car tested here from a base of $291,295 to $328,365 include $345 for the roughly five-pound metal fuel cap, $2550 for the “radiator mascot” (perhaps you’ve heard of hood ornaments?), $3270 for adaptive cruise control, and $6315 for the two-piece 21-inch wheels. The biggest single investment was $7415 for the 20-speaker, 2200-watt Naim audio system.
As extravagant and comfortable as the Mulsanne is, its most impressive trait is its poise. The notion of  building a driver’s car the size and weight of a lavishly appointed Suburban is laughable, but Bentley has succeeded.  Just don’t try to live in it.
Reviews of cars like the Mulsanne inevitably include a comparison between the interior and an English drawing room or library. But, since our drawing rooms are either the less-posh American style or riddled with bullet holes from being used as quick-drawing rooms, we thought we’d see how much it would cost to upgrade Alterman’s 14 x 17-foot office to Mulsanne spec. The idea was to recreate the car’s interior as faithfully as possible but on the scale of Eddie’s lair.
We contacted Lauren Coburn, a Chicago-based interior designer familiar with this caliber of craftsmanship but whose customers usually have some means of paying that doesn’t depend on expense-report sleight of hand. She was nice enough not to toss out our sketch of Eddie’s floor plan and went to work. It looks like we’ll be putting in a lot of overtime.

Why would any potential buyer of a Bentley Flying Spur—a rolling symbol of a life lived large—ever choose an engine that has less power and fewer cylinders than the existing 6.0-liter W-12? We can pretty much discount price. The new V-8 model is $20,700 cheaper than the one powered by the W-12, and that would be considered a sizable discount in the real world. But as the V-8 still carries a base price of $197,825, it’s fair to assume that anyone who could afford it might easily stretch to the W-12. Specify a V-8 with the premium audio system, rear screens, and those all-important walnut picnic tables, and you’ve already offset the price difference between the two cars.
The eight-cylinder does give better gas mileage, in the unlikely event this matters any. It uses selective cylinder shutdown to turn itself into a V-4 under gentle use. But with the possible exception of Scrooge McDuck, it’s doubtful this will be a concern to many modern millionaires. It’s true that in some parts of the world the V-8 engine’s smaller displacement and more modest carbon-dioxide emissions will save buyers tens of thousands a year in taxes. But since the U.S. hasn’t succumbed to the forces of eco-Marxism quite yet, this difference can also be discounted.
No, the reason to choose the less powerful eight-cylinder is simple: It makes the Flying Spur a better car. We’ve already driven this engine in the Bentley Continental and Audi RS7, among others, and a refresher course behind the wheel of the Bentley gives a welcome reminder of just how good it is. The Spur V-8 can’t match the headline-grabbing performance figures of its bigger sister (it still manages 183 mph and an estimated 4.2-second 0-to-60 time), but the smaller engine’s keener throttle response and lag-free delivery more than offset its relative lack of power and torque.
It sounds better, too. The W-12 has an interesting noise—an overly busy exhaust note and induction roar often making it sound as if at least two engines were puffing beneath its bonnet. Yet the V-8 sounds like a V-8 should, a subdued purr under gentle use that turns into a pleasingly baritone snarl as the revs ascend.
Under and over Queen Victoria
Dynamic differences are relatively modest. The V-8 car is about 330 pounds lighter than the one with the W-12, with most of that mass coming off the front end. As a result, it turns slightly more willingly and steers with more precision. This hasn’t transformed the car, which still feels substantial in a premium luxury way. The ride quality is Bentley plush, deeply appreciated over some of the broken British back roads on which we drove the car. The air suspension offers four levels of damping, with even the softest keeping the body under tight control when asked to deal with asphalt that seemed to have been relaid for the last time under (or possibly over) Queen Victoria.
As with the rest of the Continental clan, the V-8 Spur’s four-wheel-drive system has been set up to ensure maximum traction at all times, and there’s never any sense that you can do much to influence your cornering line via the throttle. Not that you should try to, of course—you might spill the rear-seat occupants’ champagne. The eight-speed autobox shuffles its ratios smoothly and seamlessly in everyday use, but requests for sudden acceleration seem to confuse it momentarily as it delivers multiple kickdowns, one after the other. You can sharpen it by sliding the gear selector into Sport mode or taking control of selection yourself via the paddles located behind the steering wheel.
U.S. buyers have already been able to choose the V-8 engine in the Continental coupe and convertible, and a take rate nearing 50 percent proves it possesses an appeal beyond its modest cost saving. The Flying Spur V-8 confirms that, when it comes to Bentleys, less really can be more.

They came seemingly out of nowhere. Nearly 2800 feet above sea level and hours from the nearest city of consequence, a group of approximately four-dozen camera-wielding tourists of random nationalities spun on their heels and began to snap pictures of, well, us. The fact that we arrived at this Norwegian mountaintop overlook in a fleet of candy-hued 2016 Bentley Continental GT coupes may have contributed to their elation. Although we in the press are known for our handsome profiles and chiseled physiques, it’s hard to compete with the international language of horsepower, not to mention flawless paintwork and Bentley’s stately Big B logo. While the attention was not entirely unexpected, that the tourists so hastily turned their backs on a glorious display of Mother Nature’s finest glacial carvings for a photo op with a car speaks volumes. Nobody was jockeying for prime photo real estate around the Ford Kuga parked next to us.

Norwegian Woods

Our day began a few hours earlier near Alesund, a heavily forested community positioned on a rocky precipice typical of western Norway. Given the seemingly glacial pace at which changes come to the Continental GT, it was a fitting locale to debut the latest round of updates.
A new front bumper with a revised lower mesh pair with a slightly smaller radiator surround and new, more pronounced fenders for what Bentley calls a more “assertive stance.” While we agree, it’s of our opinion that the effect looks most at home when paired with the more extroverted colors—like the Monaco Yellow on the V8 S pictured here—than with colors selected from the traditional Bentley palette. (That said, Bentley would like to remind you that it will gladly color-match any shade known to the human eye.) Chrome fender badges, as previously seen only on the GT Speed, now appear on the fenders of the V8 S and W12 as cosmetic enhancements. The rear of the car gets largely the same treatment, the reshaped bumper getting a full-length strip of brightwork, and the composite decklid has been reshaped with a slightly more pronounced profile to the trailing edge. To help keep the pecking order sorted, the V8 S and the GT Speed get a different rear-diffuser treatment. Some new wheel choices arrive for 2016, including the 21-inch five-spoke directional alloys found on the GT Speed we drove.
Although the interior has also been subjected to a round of minor updates—a revised stitching pattern in the seats, LED illumination, new dials and graphics on the instrument panel, larger gearshift paddles, and additional USB ports, all standard—you shouldn’t be surprised to learn that it remains true to its basic men’s-clubroom ideals. Leather abounds, punctuated by bits of chrome and either carbon fiber or wood, and the control layout is unchanged. A sportier steering wheel comes aboard as an option, as does onboard Wi-Fi connectivity for $1330. Mulliner Driving Specification brings a unique, "small-diamond" quilting pattern to the seats, and the GT W12 and GT Speed models can be outfitted with supersoft semi-aniline leather for the princely sum of $3200; how, exactly, Bentley determines which cows are the softest remains a trade secret.

From the Midnight Sun Where the Hot Springs Blow

For the first portion of the drive, we selected a Continental GT Speed cloaked in a dark hue known as “Spectre.” Whether Bentley chose the name as an official reference to Ian Fleming supervillain Ernst Stavro Blofeld is up for debate, but it certainly plays the part well. What we can confirm, however, is that the torque swell from the 626-hp twin-turbo 6.0-liter W-12 remains as alluring as ever, all 607 lb-ft of torque on duty at 2000 rpm. Permanent all-wheel drive performs discreetly in the background, doling out torque as needed (normally split 40/60 front/rear, variable from 15/85 to 65/35 as conditions dictate). The resultant acceleration belies the GT Speed’s 5100-pound curb weight, with 60 mph arriving in a claimed 4.0 seconds. Additional factory performance figures have 100 mph passing in a claimed 9.0 seconds and a top speed of 206 mph. From the long, linear travel of the accelerator (we like!) and the soft-ish brake pedal (don’t like so much), to the speed-sensitive electric power steering (like well enough) and damped but precise movement of the shift paddles (sure, why not?), the controls move as if they are mounted with bushings made of equal parts folding cash, Beluga caviar, and human tissue extracted from Barry White’s larynx.
At the conclusion of the impromptu mountaintop photo session, we slipped into the yellow GT V8 S. Equipped with Bentley’s “Extended Sports Specification” kit ($19,180—yes, really), our car had the carbon-ceramic eight-piston front brakes, sports exhaust, and carbon-fiber interior bits, making it the best choice for the run down Norway’s infamous Trollstigen Mountain Road, a ribbon of single-lane pavement carved out of the side of a cliff. Mistakes made here could have grave consequences. Although the twin-turbo 4.0-liter V-8 produces “only” 521 horsepower, all 502 lb-ft of torque are available at a low 1700 rpm, which helped to give the eight-speed ZF automatic gearbox a breather during the twisty descent. Short straight chutes were acknowledged with blasts of the throttle, followed by braking hard for corners and then downshifting—the transmission will let you skip gears downshifting—to coast against engine back pressure and elicit some joyous cacophony from the tailpipes. Down a quartet of cylinders, the V8 S gives up only three-tenths, Bentley says, to the W12 Speed in the zero-to-60 measure, clocking in at 4.3 seconds; zero to 100 mph is a different story, the V8 S taking 10.3 seconds to do what the W-12–powered GT can do in just 9.0 seconds (again, factory figures). Although said to be lighter over the front wheels by only 57 pounds, the V8 S had the best steering feel and response. The air suspension does a fair job of keeping the body on an even keel while simultaneously isolating the harshest wheel impacts. You’ll never forget that it’s a big car—that it handles as well as it does is a testament to dogged engineering persistence.
With a base price of $214,425, our Continental GT V8 S wore $44,020 in options (extended paint, $5715; yellow stitching, $1980; faux-leather headliner, $1200; Naim for Bentley audio, $7595; and many, many more). Final tally? A cool $258,445.

This Bird Has Flown

The biggest news in Continental GT land can be found under the hood of the most pedestrian 12-cylinder. Seeking improvements in fuel economy and emissions, Bentley has added cylinder deactivation to the twin-turbo W-12. (The V-8 has had it for years; the W-12 in GT Speed trim doesn’t get cylinder deactivation.) According to Bentley, the Continental GT W12 notches a five-percent improvement in combined fuel economy, although the EPA combined rating of 15 mpg is the exact same figure earned by the previous W12. But emissions were reportedly reduced. Best of all, adding cylinder deactivation required remapping of the ECU, and in the process Bentley harvested an additional 15 horsepower and 15 lb-ft of torque, which now stand at 582 and 531, respectively.
As you might expect, spending time with the GT W12 after driving the previous two cars was less than a revelatory experience: The heft, the interior tranquility, the impeccable fit and finish were all present in spades. The variable-displacement system went about its business without drama or inopportune hiccups, and if our handlers hadn’t informed us about it we likely would never have noticed its presence.
While all of these cars handle well, the word “crisp” is nowhere in their vocabulary, and Bentley remains empathic that the Continental GT is a true grand tourer and “not a sports car.” But for those who desire a large coupe with classic styling, a coddling interior, and speed to spare, the Bentley remains happy to oblige.

From the outside, it’s easy to dislike the Bentley Continental GT3-R. It’s nearly $150,000 more expensive than a base Conti GT V-8. It’s the high-performance model but makes 34 fewer horsepower than the W-12–powered Speed. It’s the “lightweight” version, but it weighs 4937 pounds.
But climb inside, and it’s easy to like the GT3-R. Its 4.0-liter twin-turbocharged V-8, which makes 500 horsepower in the basic Continental GT, cranks out an additional 92 horses with surprising ease. Nominal output is 572 horsepower and 516 lb-ft, but in case you need to get from a standstill to 135 mph in a hurry, it’ll make 592 and 553 for up to 15 seconds. Even if it is for a limited time only, 148 horsepower per liter is impressive output. There’s no noticeable increase in lag, and the engine even lunges for redline with a little extra push between 6000 rpm and the fuel cutoff at 6800. The turbos definitely aren’t running out of breath at high speeds.

The Violence and Sound of an Old Batman Comic

The resultant acceleration is explosive. Speed builds so fast that, if you have the GT3-R in manual mode, you need to pull the upshift paddle as the tach needle sweeps past 5000 in first gear, because it can smack into the limiter the merest fraction of a second after that. There’s a good deal of squat, and the steering goes light as this big boy blasts from zero to 60 in just 3.4 seconds. The quarter-mile takes only 11.6 seconds and passes at 122 mph. The launch is a triumph of all-wheel drive over mass, but even above 60 mph, the Bentley keeps pace with the 640-hp Dodge Viper SRT—a car that’s nearly 1600 pounds lighter. That acceleration is also a triumph of gearing. Not only does the car hit 60 mph in 3.4 seconds, it crams two shifts into that span. The ZF eight-speed is programmed for quicker shifts in this car, and it delivers.
Like an increasing number of performance cars today, the GT3-R is engineered to burble and pop on engine overrun. Sometimes it’s a 21-gun salute, sometimes a 24. Other times it’s just 13 or four, or maybe just one big field-cannon boom and a couple of pea-shooter pops, but each time the driver breathes off the throttle, he’s rewarded with a little race-car fanfare. It’s charmingly uncouth in, say, a Jaguar F-type. But in a $341,000 Bentley, it’s the equivalent of a carbon-fiber interior with lizard-green leather accents.

Taste? These People Eat Fish Eggs

Did we mention that the GT3-R also has a carbon-fiber interior with lizard-green leather accents? The concept of lightweighting something that weighs more than 5000 pounds is kind of ludicrous, like installing carbon-fiber door panels in your Kenworth. But Bentley did manage not only to cut 200-plus pounds from the V-8 Conti, it also ditched the back seat, preventing you from loading in another 200 or so pounds of whatever. And the door panels are cool, a huge expanse of black weave punctuated with green-quilted suede inserts. That green is also picked up by accents on the seats, dash, and center console. Meanwhile, GT3-R script on the fender, rear quarter, sill plates, floor mats, headrests, and dashboard remind that this is the really expensive Continental. It’s unique but of questionable taste. Then again, most things that cost this much are of questionable taste.
What’s not a question but a surprising reality is the magic that Bentley’s chassis team worked on a vehicle that still weighs very nearly two-and-a-half tons. Its agility transcends its mass and bulk with a neutral balance and responsiveness more befitting something carrying about 2000 fewer pounds—say, the actual GT3 race car. But with a powered 275/35ZR-21 Pirelli P Zero at each corner, the R’s lift-throttle oversteer is easy to catch and re-vector down the next straight.
Bentley has thus far enjoyed a fair measure of success campaigning the GT3 racer in Asia, Europe, and North America. The company is limiting import of the GT3-R and will sell only 99 of them to its wealthiest and most-dedicated fans in the U.S. Each of those buyers will find it easy to like their new toy.

It’s all over but the driving at this point. With this whole Bentayga thing, Bentley has teased us with the unceasing tenacity of Elisabeth Báthory under a bad moon. It started with the EXP 9 F concept unveiled at the Geneva auto show back in 2012. The conventional wisdom was that there was certainly a hole in the market large enough for Bentley to park an SUV in, but the reaction to what Crewe came up with was mixed, to put it rather charitably. And instead of the EXP 9 F’s vaguely Mulsanne-ish demeanor, we now have the Conti-fied new Bentayga.
To put it bluntly, we’re not entirely sure if the Bentayga is an aesthetic improvement over the EXP 9 F. The artist’s conception we ran earlier this year was close to spot-on, save for the production vehicle’s haloed headlamp washers. We like the fact that it has pop-out headlamp washers. As children of the ’70s and ’80s, pop-up or –out anything on the nose of a car strikes our fancy. We’re just not sure if Bentley’s implementation is what we were after when we fell asleep, hoping to dream of something, anything, to succeed the Cizeta V16T in oddball lights-and-actuators glory.

Mechanical Fanciness

Washers aside, Bentley has packed the Bentayga to the rafters with bells and whistles. Courtesy of the company’s Drive Dynamics Mode and its optional Responsive Off-Road Setting, up to eight drive modes can be activated. Whether they actually will be probably has something to do with whether you’re a dune-hooning sheik or merely Newport Beach chic. Responsive Off-Road mode allows you to pick the surface closest to the one you’re currently motoring on. It’s accompanied by a handy display of pitch, roll, wheel articulation, steering angle, altitude, and direction. Perfect for those, “Hey! Earl of March! Hold my Lagavulin!” moments.
Bentley’s Dynamic Ride system uses a 48-volt system to adjust the air suspension to offer various heights—the ute can be lowered while standing at the tailgate—and Hill Descent Control makes traversing steep grades one-touch simple.
While diesel and hybrid options are on the horizon—and we wouldn’t be surprised to see an eventual V-8–powered Bentayga—at launch, power comes exclusively from the Volkswagen Group’s W-12 engine, routed through an eight-speed automatic transmission. Tuned in this application to crank out 600 horsepower and 663 lb-ft of torque, the updated W-12 now features cylinder deactivation. Bentley claims the Bentayga will hit 60 in four seconds flat and press on to 187 mph. Be on the lookout for undercover cops.
Crewe will happily point out to you that these numbers make it the most powerful and fastest SUV on the planet. We wonder, however, how long that might stand, especially given Bentley’s speedy, luxurious VW Group relatives. After all, the Lamborghini Urus is on the way, and would it do to have Sant’Agata’s hot, hot heat tempered by its cool, Brit cousin? And might not Zuffenhausen go to Weissach and say, “You must engineer harder, for the Cayenne Turbo S cannot be trumped by others within our group!” Future Porsche Cayenne GT2, anybody? Just because.

As Always, the Most Opulence Is Inside

What will not be trumped, however, is the Bentayga’s interior. We had a chance to sit in it, and the innards are good enough to make one forget the exterior aesthetics. Fifteen veneered pieces of wood trim go into the cabin, and customers can choose among seven different varieties of dead tree to accent one of 15 shades of naturally tanned bull hide. The leather covers 22-way adjustable front chairs with massage functionality, as well as 18-way adjustable rear seats in the four-place models. A rear bench also is available. And if you’re inclined to enjoy an especially lovely sunset or an impromptu shooting match, a folding “event seat” is available, upholstered to match your Bentayga’s interior and easily stowed in the boot.
Bentley’s extra-care Mulliner division offers a host of further customizations at the buyer’s request. As of launch, the opulence includes a “hamper set,” with custom Linley china, utensils and crystal, a fridge, and a storage area for dry goods. Sections of it can be removed and used for seats for impromptu al fresco dining. That, friends, is one heck of a pic-a-nic basket.
But perhaps the best interior option—in fact, it is very likely the best option, period—is the Mulliner Tourbillon by Breitling clock. Featuring a mechanical movement, the Mulliner Tourbillon is actually wound by the car. Oh, your Mercedes has an IWC timepiece? Is it machined from either white or rose gold? Does it have eight diamond indexes on the face? Might we ask you one last thing? Does your automobile wind your freaking clock? Chump, we heard our footman mention that there’s a sale at Kohl’s. You’d best be on your way.