The Porsche 911 GT3 looks set to be a classic, even if Richard Hammond does hate that colour
If you or I stubbed a toe on the bedside table every time we got up in the morning, we would move the table. A Porsche engineer would redesign their foot. They might be bonkers, but you've got to admire their determination.
For 40 years, they've honed and improved the 911, because honing and improving is what they do. Yes, they could have moved the engine to the front end decades ago, but where would the challenge be? Thanks to their fetish for sticking with a plan and honing and improving it, what they've ended up with is one of the most accomplished and characterful cars ever made.
It may have started out as not much more than a sporty VW Beetle in 1964, but it has evolved - just as we evolved opposable thumbs to be able to peel bananas and build Porsches. And now this, the new 911 GT3 RS, is the most complete and exciting supercar on Earth.
Of course, there's little point in me getting snared up in an argument about why this car is better than all the others, because supercars are ultimately a matter of individual taste, and you can't argue against individual taste. James chooses to grow his hair long, because he thinks it looks good.
No amount of arguing that he looks like a spaniel mated with a tramp will ever persuade him otherwise; it's a case of personal taste.
Look at our 100 Fastest Cars list, and you'll see what I mean - you're sure to disagree with some or all of it. But what I can do here is explain why, for me, this car is the boss, and maybe you'll be able to relate to at least some of what I'm on about.
You probably know about the GT3, Porsche's stripped-out version of the 911 designed for racing homologation. To make it, the normally aspirated 911 lost its rear seats (and other bits and pieces) to shed weight - it's 30kg lighter than a Carrera S - and gained a racing roll cage.
To turn it into a GT3 RS, Porsche put it on a more extreme regime, with a different, more complex cage, lightweight carbon-fibre rear wing and Perspex rear window, saving another 20kg. About 700 will be produced, guaranteeing exclusivity.
And that RS livery means a lot - some sensational cars have worn it in the past, like the 1972 2.7 RS. That's enough to make the ?14k premium over the GT3 more than worth it, even forgetting the improved resale value.
Oh, and it looks a bit meaner than the GT3, because it uses the slightly wider rear bodywork (it has a 44mm wider rear track, to be exact) from the Turbo and Carrera 4.
The 3.6-litre flat-six in the GT3 is a very different animal to the one in the standard 911, using a lot of parts from the racing GT1 motor- exhaust, headers, intakes and the ECU have all been fettled, and its special twin-cast blocks make the engine stiffer and capable of producing more power.
The RS version is also fitted with a slightly lighter flywheel than the regular GT3 for even easier revving. The figures are impressive - 415bhp at 7,600rpm and 299lb ft at 5,500rpm.
That makes it the most powerful normally aspirated, six-cylinder engine in production, and in a car the size of a small hatchback, 415bhp is plenty. Standstill to 62mph takes 4.2 seconds - some magazines have got it as being below 4.0 - and you're doing 100mph in 10 seconds dead, on the way to a maximum of 187mph. Sheesh.
But figures are just figures, numbers on a page. It's the way the engine does its job that blows me away. You can potter off down the shops in it and it never bites - it's tractable and benign. But for God's sake, don't go shopping in it. Just because you can, doesn't always mean you should.
Please, please beat this car mercilessly until you think it can take no more. Because it can and, on this occasion, you definitely should. It revs with a furious, charging energy - it thrives on revs, and it never, ever feels anything other than urgent when you want to push on.
One of the great things about this car is its purity of purpose. When a Ferrari is finished, it's sort of garnished with character, like ketchup on chips. Porsche doesn't do that. It finishes the car and then it is what it is. And that sense is nowhere better expressed than in the engine.
It doesn't have a nice Perspex cover above it to say "ooh, here I am and aren't I lovely?" It doesn't have pretty valve covers or badging or exposed exhaust manifolds. No. It's the ugliest engine in Christendom - it looks like the back of an old washing machine. And who gives a bugger? Because it doesn't need to look any different - it's designed to slam the car down the road as fast as possible. And sod beauty, it's the driving that counts.
If it looks like a washing machine, then it certainly sounds like one. The lack of aesthetic buggering about extends to the engine sound - at least at low revs. It's all mashing, clattering valves and mechanical din invading the cabin. Sure, the Porsche guys could engineer a lot of that roughness out, they could acoustically tune it, but why? It's not a clarinet, it's a supercar engine.
The noise it makes is a direct result of the purpose the engineers have set for it. If you love it - and many of us do - then great, the Porsche guys appreciate your understanding. If you hate it, they couldn't give a flying fig. Buy a CD of pretty V8 engine sounds and play it, if that's what you want. Play it in your BMW.
It's when you let it off the leash that its real character shouts at you - a howl that makes me grin like, well, like a bloke at the wheel of someone else's ?94k Porsche supercar every time I hear it.
This sound couldn't be anything other than a Porsche flat-six, but it's louder and more aggressive in this GT3 than the standard Carrera. It is simply a more extreme expression of the same beast in standard form.
I can't tell you how much I love a Porsche for its lack of pretence, its lack of engineered-on glitz and garnish. It doesn't need added character, because it has character oozing from every micron. And let's not forget, they may only be numbers on a page, but those figures also mean it's stunningly fast in real life - that 10-second 0-100mph time is only 10ths away from a Turbo.
Here's a thing - why don't you see more Lamborghinis and Ferraris and Astons at the Nurburgring Nordschleife, the world's greatest, most demanding race track?
Because they're not built to take it, and their owners aren't the sort of drivers who'd enjoy thrashing their expensive cars round there.They would rather admire their engine through its Perspex lid or listen to their CD of V8s singing opera. But go to the 'Ring on a public day and the place is chock-full of 911 GT3s. That's purity of purpose for you
Another spin-off of the Porsche obsession with fettling is a sense of continuity and lineage. If you put me in the passenger seat of any current 911, blindfolded me and put ear muffs on me, I could still tell we were in a 911.
It has a distinct bobbing motion at the front end that has been there since the Sixties. It's a function of the weight of the engine being where it is and the compliant but firm damping, and I love it.
That's not to say it's unstable or in any way dangerous - this is the most planted car you can imagine. It's as if the nose is a bit restless, sniffing for another corner to attack. The steering chatters away in your hands, alive and full of feel. You sense every tiny bump on the road surface, every ridge and dip.
OK, the downside is that it can tramline quite badly on occasion, but you can live with it, because the alternative is a numbness that just wouldn't be a Porsche 911. It is talking to you constantly through the suede rim, and the slightest thought of a movement in your hands will have the car changing direction. Along with the engine, it's the car's most impressive quality.
Or is it the chassis? I can't decide. It's all good. Punt it through a high-speed bend and as you'd expect, the grip levels are gigantic - at least they are in the dry on these Michelin Sport Cup tyres.
Streaming wet and slippery conditions might be a bit more hairy. Lift off, and you still get that 911 oversteer moment as the mass of the engine pivots beyond the rear axle, but it's under control - yours to use if you feel the need. And have the balls.
And, of course, the stability control will let you slide it a bit before it catches the car. Or you can turn it off. This is a track-focused machine that any racing driver would be immediately at home in.
I'm not a racing driver, not by any means, but I can certainly appreciate how direct and agile this car is. And if you love driving as much as I do, you'd love it too.
I was expecting the ride to be a lot harder than it is. Even when you hit the Sport button - which firms up the dampers - the ride is still comfortable and compliant. Porsche's active damper system had the purists howling when it was first released, but I think they've probably gone a bit quiet now. The compromise between ride and handling is pure magic.
I drove this car hard for a good two hours on some pretty bumpy roads, and none of my teeth got broken. You never find yourself avoiding bumps to save your spine, and the body-hugging lightweight racing seats, though hard, seem to match the compliance of the ride perfectly.
Anything I don't like? Well, the seat is set way too low for a bloke of my height, but that's easily sorted. And I'm not sure about the suede all over the place - I'm not a fan of Alcantara and if I could spec the car without it, I would. And, er, I'm struggling to think of much more.
Other than the colour. It's too green. And the orange is too orange. I think I'd have the world's greatest performance car in black - a car can't be too black.
This could be the last of the flat-six 911s, so perhaps we should pause for thought. There are rumours flying around about Porsche working on a new flat-eight engine - that it has decided it has squeezed all it can out of six cylinders and it's time to move on.
Once again, the purists will be jumping up and down in a worried frenzy about the death of the six, and I must admit, I feel a pang of anxiety when I think about this great engine being scrapped. Still, as the last flat-six 911 GT3 RS, the car you're looking at is probably a classic already.
But we mustn't get too worried about the future of the 911, because there's one thing you can bet your house on - that the eight will be better than the six, and that the next 911 GT3 RS will be better than this car. The ultimate 911 is always the latest 911 - quite an achievement.
I find it impossible to imagine how they could improve it, but that's why I'm not a Porsche engineer. In fact, I'm pretty sure if you or I hung around at the factory gates at Weissach for long enough, we too would find ourselves improved.
