LA BELLA FIGURA

Stopping by at Cinecittà to connect with your inner ’50s movie star? The only car to arrive in, writes jon wall, is Maserati’s stunning GranCabrio

WHILE FERRARI NOW stands unchallenged as the world’s most charismatic builder of sports and racing cars, a little more than half a century ago the Maranello-based manufacturer had yet to affirm its dominance, being merely one of several European makers of high-cost, high-speed automobiles. After Mercedes-Benz pulled out of motorsport in 1955, the Italian company’s principal rival both on the track and as a maker of fast and glamorous transport was Maserati, whose factory in the ancient city of Modena lay just 15km up the road from Ferrari’s.

The rivalry between the two companies was fierce and sometimes bitter. When the four-times world champion Juan Manuel Fangio deserted the underperforming Ferrari Formula 1 team at the end of 1956 for Maserati – in whose magnificent 250F, now widely considered the greatest racing car ever built, the Argentine maestro went on to clinch his fifth title – an incensed Enzo Ferrari regarded the move as traitorous.

The competition was as intense off the track, Maserati’s road cars being easily the equal of Ferrari’s in terms of speed, sexiness and cachet, with even the luxuriant four-syllable name suggesting concupiscence. Indeed, with their voluptuous Touring or Vignale coachwork – surely the automotive equivalent of la bella figura – the 1957 3500GT and its derivatives are as emblematic of the era as pencil skirts, black-seamed stockings, stiletto heels and Brigitte Bardot’s pout. In their day they attracted a roll call of famous owners, from royalty (the Shah of Persia, King Saud of Saudi Arabia and Prince Rainier of Monaco) to the rich and powerful (Fiat magnate Gianni Agnelli), and from movie stars (Tony Curtis, Rock Hudson and Anthony Quinn) to – not surprisingly – Lotharios (including the notorious Dominican-born playboy Porfirio Rubirosa).

But even as Maserati was at its pinnacle, the rot was setting in. The factory pulled out of racing at the end of 1957 in response to the fatal crash that heralded the end of the Mille Miglia endurance race, and by the early 1960s its road cars were being gradually eclipsed by a host of Ferraris and Porsches, Jaguar’s E-Type and, after 1963, Lamborghinis (the latter’s groundbreaking Miura of 1966 is generally regarded as the first true supercar). The 1968 sale of the company to Citroën only served to accelerate the slide – perpetuated over the next 25 years by a dismal procession of investors and ever-more lacklustre models – so that by the time Fiat rode in to the rescue in 1993, the legendary marque was almost dead on its feet.

In an irony that would surely have provided ultimate satisfaction to the late Enzo, new owner Fiat transferred control and half of its Maserati shareholding to its Ferrari unit in 1997. Viewed in retrospect, however, the move not only revitalized the Modena company but also ensured its survival into the 21st century. (Following a further reorganisation in 2005, Maserati has been tied with another legendary badge, Alfa Romeo, within Fiat’s sports-car grouping.)

In 2001 the handsome 4200GT Spyder and Coupé were unveiled, followed by the Quattroporte sedan two years later – all powered by a Ferrari-built V8 engine. These morphed into 2007’s GranTurismo, a stunningly curvaceous, retro-influenced yet thoroughly modern 2+2 with coupé body by Pininfarina, which to these eyes is the best-looking road car to wear the brand’s trident motif since the 3500GT.

Or perhaps the verb in the last sentence should read “was,” because the GranCabrio convertible that joined it in 2009 possesses the virtues of being not only a full four-seater but arguably even more ravishing than the car on which it’s based. And though we’ve now had considerably longer than a year to get used to it on Asia’s roads, the appeal of this gorgeous drop-top has diminished not one iota, especially when it’s dramatically turned out in the black paintwork and red-leather interior of the test car that rolled up outside Prestige Towers last autumn.

To call the GranCabrio breathtaking is an understatement, for this is a thrillingly beautiful car, as svelte and perfectly proportioned as Aston Martin’s achingly lovely Virage – and this in spite of the fact that the Maserati carries four adults with minimal compromises in terms of personal space or comfort. And therein lies its appeal, for as well as being fast and stylish it’s also supremely sociable, positively encouraging owners to share their good fortune by bringing family and friends along for exhilarating, wind-in-the-hair drives.

With 440 willing horses and a thumping 490Nm of torque available from its Maranello-built 4.7-litre V8 (despite differences in displacement and output, the motor shares the same basic architecture with those of Ferrari’s current California and 458 Italia), the GranCabrio is clearly well capable of ruining carefully constructed coiffures. Weighing around two tonnes – about 100kg of this is due to the extra stiffening required after decapitating the metal roof – the convertible may not exactly be supercar-fast but it’s no slouch either, with a claimed maximum speed in excess of 280km/h and the 0-100km/h standing start in little more than five seconds.

At moments such as these – and especially when you select “S” on the ZF multimode, six-speed automatic box, which among other things opens the pneumatic bypass valve and retunes the exhaust note – the engine rumbles and then roars in an ascending scale of sound, thus providing another compelling reason (if one were needed) to pose shamelessly with the top down. Having such a magnificent mechanical accompaniment available at a touch of the accelerator does render the GranCabrio’s standard Bose sound system somewhat irrelevant, though it certainly provides a welcome distraction from the fuel gauge’s tendency to lurch towards the “E” marker whenever you feel the urge to press the pedal towards the carpet.

Engaging “S” mode also stiffens the dampers on the Maserati’s Skyhook active suspension, which enables the car to perform an entertaining and fairly convincing impersonation of a two-seat roadster, not that your companions in the back are likely to thank you for it. One suspects they’ll be far happier if you set the console shifter to normal, desist from flipping the gear-change paddles and flooring the throttle whenever even the briefest straight of tarmac appears in the windscreen, and instead permit the sophisticated chassis to do its work, ironing out the bends and bumps into something more resembling a feather bed. Because when driven thus, the ride quality on the GranCabrio is supple, fluid and quite astonishingly good.

As if to dumbfound the doubters who insist that while the Italians may have a virtual monopoly on designing sexy motorcars, they still can’t build ’em properly, the Maserati’s apparently flawless interior has been painstakingly handassembled. It’s covered almost everywhere in swathes of soft Poltrona Frau leather and, where it isn’t, dark chrome – and on the reverse side of the large gearshift paddles there’s even high-tech Alcantara. There’s also a nod to ’50s glamour in the elegant, retro-styled clock that occupies the centre of the fascia, right above the satnav screen. If there’s a single major drawback, it’s the boot, which is so minuscule you’ll have to leave the backseat passengers behind if your journey involves a couple of nights away from home or even a short run to the golf course.

Not that an impracticality such as this is likely to steer most potential owners away from this stunning cabriolet, which connects its occupants with their inner Marcello Mastroianni, Roberto Rossellini, Sophia Loren or Anita Ekberg as few contemporary cars can. Imagining golden summer evenings on the Amalfi coast, I simply want to gather together three of my dearest friends, wrap ourselves within this sensuous piece of kinetic sculpture, wallow in the reflected glory of its beauty, savour the sublime symphony of its engine and cruise along the ocean’s edge towards an endless sunset.