The Ferrari F50 is by far the least popular of the firm’s first four generations of modern hypercars. All the world’s respect and awe for the F40 met the F50 at its debut, but the tide quickly turned for this $480,000 machine after reviewers and Ferrari customers alike revealed the F40 replacement’s familiar styling hid dynamics and a driver experience nowhere near the ferocity of the legendary original.
Instead of a peaky and violent Group B reject like the F40 , the F50 was a heavy, high-speed missile with limited tractability at low speeds from the V-12 versus the explosive F40’s twin turbochargers and short gearing.
Make no mistake, there is nothing wrong with the performance of the F50, which easily spanked [the hottest thing available from Lamborghini at the time, the Diablo VT in sprint pace, as well as maximum velocity. The construction is carbon-fiber with the rigidity of a fortified bunker, the rear wing is eye-catching, and the 1990s makeover of the F40 ’s simple nose was beautiful, at first.
The F50 largely included the F40 ’s exaggerated and exotic proportions and clamshell hoods front and back. Headlamps above the bumper and hood’s leading edge were possible via shrouded enclosures for the first time in three decades, and the unadorned intake wears only a simple and modest prancing horse.
The F50 is an enjoyable case study for armchair experts and everyone else forced to endure Ferrari ’s frequent grandstanding. It also shows a few nice things for all supercar fans, especially those who are, unfortunately, not debating which Ferrari to purchase (at least not any time soon)!
Click past the jump for the full debrief of the Ferrari F50: the Ferrari’s hypercar sophomore album that is now a study in what *not* to do when replacing a legend.
The F50 writes checks all over its exotic styling that the driving experience failed to cash.
While the F40’s chiseled features and unapologetic aerodynamic modifications felt almost more than authentic, like something directly from the race courses of the future, the F50 was more of a moment in time for 1995. The third-gen Taurus had just debuted its 100-percent-oval styling abomination on the public, and you were nobody without curves on every panel.
Much as the 1996 Ford Taurus will not be joining any automotive museums besides the "Edsel Ford Memorial Car Crusher and Smelter:" the F50 is also in a bad period at the moment: too old to appeal to freshly minted fortunes, and too young to get any respect on the classic scene.
After staring into this beautiful machine for hours, but feeling little or no spark like the F40 generated, people were confused. The F50 seemed to have all the right stuff, but just hit the floor with a thud the moment curves went out of fashion by 1999.