Pininfarina Battista review: 1,874bhp electric Hyper GT in Miami

There may be no worse spot on Earth to work out how a 1,874bhp hypercar actually behaves than Miami. In truth, most of Florida is flat, clogged up and swampy. Those smooth, broad ribbons of tarmac that twist uphill and then spill down the far side simply aren’t a thing here. Still, no point fighting reality: I’m here to go with the current and lean fully into the Miami mindset.

Not by squeezing into a Lycra catsuit four sizes too small and knocking back Big Gulp cocktails (honestly, American tourists are a remarkable species), but by sampling a sliver of billionaire theatre. Hence the freshly acquired US$7m mansion for the photo-op: more marble than the Parthenon, plus a fridge-freezer larger than my first flat. I’ve pulled on a party shirt with questionable judgement and fixed some sunglasses firmly to my face. Outside on the drive sits the car.

Pininfarina Battista: design-led electric Hyper GT

The Pininfarina Battista is what the next chapter of very, very fast machinery looks like. It’s effectively the Rimac Nevera’s sister, sharing the same powertrain know-how, electrical architecture and carbon core, then reworked to Pininfarina’s own requirements and wrapped in bespoke bodywork and a cabin of its own.

For a firm that’s arguably Italy’s best-known design house, with a 91-year back catalogue featuring home runs like the Ferrari F40 and Cisitalia 202, this is the first road car ever to wear a Pininfarina badge… and it’s also the most powerful Italian car ever produced.

Photography: Rowan Horncastle

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Cruising between the art deco façades of Ocean Drive and the murals of Wynwood may actually suit the Battista perfectly. Where the Rimac Nevera feels like a physical manifestation of Mate Rimac’s brain - a tech shrine in all its gloriously nerdy detail - Pininfarina is pitching a more traditional idea of luxury and design.

Yes, the performance reserve is absurd, but it’s packaged in a classically handsome carbon-fibre body, finished with world-class materials and backed by extensive personalisation so that each car in the 150-strong run can be genuinely individual. Someone in Pininfarina’s PR team even ran the numbers and concluded that “the total number of possible individual designs stretched to 13.9 quintillion”. I can’t begin to visualise that (I ran out of fingers), but it certainly sounds plentiful.

And, yes, it’s an all-electric Hyper GT. No waiting to brim it with £20 of petrol in this £2m lump of carbon and lithium; you simply charge it via the optional Residenza wallbox (designed by Pininfarina and colour-matched to your car) in your cavernous garage and carry on. Pininfarina says you’ll see 310 miles (500km) on a charge if you drive with learner-level restraint - which you won’t - thanks to a 120kWh T-shaped battery mounted down the car’s spine and curving around behind the seats.

Living with the Battista in Miami

Range anxiety isn’t top of mind while we carve through the few miles from downtown, over the MacArthur Causeway, past a row of CO2-belching cruise ships, and thread around roadworks and well-lubricated holidaymakers by Miami Beach. Happily, at low speeds the Battista is completely undramatic.

In something like a Porsche Carrera GT or a McLaren F1 you’d be coaxing delicate mechanical bits and a hair-trigger clutch; here, none of that applies. The ride isn’t exactly limousine-soft, but it’s compliant enough for daily use. With dual single-speed gearboxes (one per axle), calmer throttle calibration in the gentler modes, and regen strong enough to one-pedal your way through town, it’s like driving a very low, very wide Tesla. And it’s hushed, aside from the manufactured soundtrack.

Yes, it makes noise - projected through two external speakers (one front, one rear) as well as the 12-speaker in-car system. Better still, the volume builds in 54Hz steps, because 54 is a multiple of 432Hz, which is billed as the purest frequency in the universe. Meaningful benefit or marketing nonsense? Your call. All I can say is the effect is… intriguing: like the car is breathing, or pulsing. It’s most noticeable when you power up in a garage and that bassy throb ricochets off the walls. It isn’t aping a combustion engine, though you could mistake it for one. Consider it prime polo-club conversation bait.

It’s a battle of willpower not to gun it at every opportunity

Those butterfly doors lift part of the sill with them, and entry doesn’t demand gymnast flexibility. Rather than dropping into rigid, high-sided race buckets, you slide across soft bolsters. That’s deliberate: the Battista wants to be a usable GT first and a full-fat missile second.

Inside, the layout is clean and driver-focused, centred on three screens. The smallest display, mounted to the steering column, shows speed and drive mode. The left-hand touchscreen covers charge status, explains what each mode does, and lets you set seat and steering wheel adjustments. The right-hand screen handles climate control and audio.

If blue suede seats, acres of matte carbon (a chunky knit on the exposed tub, a tighter weave on the interior pieces) and quilted leather are your thing, you’ll be very happy here. The unspoken rule is simple: if you’re asking many millions for a car, you take every chance to wrap it in rare, exotic materials. Exhibit A is our test car’s exposed-carbon exterior, which can’t have come cheaply. Close up it’s mesmerising; from afar it reads as a brownish black. We’d choose a louder paint shade and wear the success proudly.

It’s an agreeable place to sit, and a relaxed machine at sane speeds - but resisting temptation is hard. The performance is always there, hovering like a devil on your shoulder. With four motors (one per wheel) enabling torque vectoring - meaning power can be fired instantly to whichever corner needs it most - it combines for 1,874bhp and 1,696lb ft of torque. For context, that’s the twist of 2.4 LaFerraris. 0–60mph takes less than two seconds, 0–186mph takes under 12 seconds, and vmax is 217mph.

Homestead Miami: unleashing Furiosa

Time for chapter two of the billionaire daydream: a private session at Homestead Miami - a NASCAR oval with a proper set of infield turns - all to ourselves. I don’t hang about: line it up on the straight, bury the throttle, and immediately emit an involuntary squeak as the air is squeezed from my lungs and the car lurches forward in a way I’ve never felt before.

Its straight-line shove makes a Taycan feel like a G-Wiz. Then I glance down and clock that I’m in Energica, not the full-English Furiosa setting, so I’m only calling on 1,341bhp and 1,393lb ft of torque - a mere 71 per cent of what the car can do.

My brain trips a circuit breaker.

A quick note on the drive modes, selected via a rotary dial built into the door by your left thigh. There’s Caraterre (where you can tailor the car’s settings), Calma (the softest, with 402bhp and 870lb ft), Pura (999bhp, 1,044lb ft), Energica, and then Furiosa (1,874bhp and 1,741lb ft, with full torque vectoring engaged). The rear wing, which can act as an airbrake and rises automatically at high speed, is capable of producing up to 500kg of downforce - “more than the weight of a fully grown polar bear", says Pininfarina. I’d be keen to know how they proved that.

Just as I’m about to dial in Furiosa and likely rearrange my spine, the sky unloads and we dive back into the pits. That matters because when we return the circuit is still damp - and damp tarmac is a serious detail when you’ve got 1,847bhp and cool Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2Rs.

Use full throttle and it’ll light up the tyres anywhere (there’s a standard 30/70 front/rear torque split before torque vectoring or traction control steps in), and the front end can’t always bite hard enough to arrest the momentum. A small throttle adjustment can flip pushy understeer into power oversteer. There’s a lot happening. Yes, it’s among the most technologically advanced cars going, with electronic assistance that’s borderline mind-bending, but 1,874bhp remains 1,874bhp - and there’s always an intimidation factor when four lukewarm contact patches are trying to claw at a wet surface while also managing around two tonnes.

As the afternoon moves on and the track begins to dry, the Battista’s brilliance comes into focus. With grip returning, I start using more throttle, more often. It begins to key into the corner on entry and then slingshots out. You can sense the torque vectoring getting to work, and the weight seems to evaporate until I’m firing it down the straight, leaning hard on the brakes (which are colossal given the job), and slicing through the infield.

It’s a ferocious experience - and physically taxing, despite steering that’s Ferrari-light yet whipcrack-quick and the total absence of clutch work. The strain comes from g-force rather than heavy controls.

It’s astonishing that something this heavy, not sold primarily on track credentials, and meant to be a touch more laid-back than the Rimac Nevera, can deliver such animal aggression. It devours the infield and leaves me winded and greedy for more. I doubt many Battista buyers will be queueing for track days, but they should: the limits are sky-high. Choose a sunny date and prepare to be stunned.

Of course, choosing an electric hypercar over one with a shrieking V12 comes with compromises: less noise, finite range, a public charging network that’s still maturing, and no satisfying up-and-down through a gearbox, for starters. But at this price and performance altitude, the goal is an experience that sticks in your head and spikes your adrenalin - and it’s impossible to drive the Battista without being captivated by the way it hurls itself forward and manages its mass. Take it from me: you’ll never become blasé about the Battista’s club-round-the-head pace, because the human body simply isn’t built to acclimatise.

And yet it nails its mission. It’s gorgeous inside and out; find a chain of rapid chargers between your Mayfair mansion and your Courchevel chalet and it’ll do the long-haul stuff without drama. Give it enough space to stretch its legs and it will always leave you wide-eyed. It makes you optimistic about the inventive EV solutions still to come. True, this corner of the market isn’t exactly crowded yet - but it’s also Top Gear’s Hyper GT of 2021.

A big thank you to Sotheby’s for lending us a mansion for the morning - and it could be yours: 8341 SW 54th Ave Miami is listed for US$6.99 million by Michael Martinez with ONE Sotheby’s International Realty