2016 Range Rover Sport SVR: Real World Review

Some say the 550 horsepower Range Rover Sport SVR is a bit excessive. Some say its six-figure price tag is a bit steep. Those people would probably be correct, but that doesn’t mean they’re necessarily right.

What Is It? 2016 Land Rover Range Rover Sport SVR: four-wheel-drive, five seat track-ready SUV

Price range: $112,345 - $131,690

Competitors: Porsche Cayenne Turbo / Turbo S, Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT, BMW X5 M

Alternatives: Land Rover Range Rover Autobiography, a small house

Pros: Wickedly fast; engine note straight from heaven; ultimate swagger

Cons: Not cheap; not fuel efficient; not roomy

Would I Buy It With My Own Money? House or really fast Range Rover? House? Really fast Range Rover? Damn it I want the Range.

What in Ganesha’s name is a five-seat SUV doing lapping the Nurburgring in 8 minutes 14 seconds? Why am I cocooned within sports car-like seats boasting the comfort of a Taiwanese jail cell? Why is the exhaust note audible from Mars? These are just some of the questions I asked myself while testing the $130,000 Range Rover Sport SVR, and each time, my answer was unwavering: Because it’s awesome.

All of these traits are, admittedly, completely pointless. And yet you care not when you stand on the gas pedal, unleashing all 550 supercharged horses from its 5.0-liter V8. That motor also sees duty in the F-Type R: There, it’s crazy and savage. Here, in 5,300 lb. SUV guise, it’s as equally batshit—perhaps more so, given you’re perched high above the world looking down on the plebeians below.

The Range Rover Sport SVR, then, isn’t for the sensible or the modest. It’s a souped-up, track-ready, off-roading SUV for the rich who enjoy speed and have money to burn. Because boy is the SVR fast.

It hits 60 mph in 4.5 seconds—about as fast as Porsche 911. And it achieves that speed with shocking ferocity, the exhaust popping and spluttering in a manner that demands you to stop whatever you’re doing and take notice: Rescuing a kitten from a tall tree? Drop it; it has 8 more lives to burn. In the midst of helping an elderly lady cross a busy street? She’ll probably be fine, her cane looks sturdy enough, and the braking distance for today’s cars are surprisingly short.

The Range Rover Sport SVR is more than just a bold statement; it remains a glorious place to spend time. While the seats are seemingly made of igneous rock, it doesn’t feel any less luxurious than your typical Range Rover Sport: There’s still a fridge under the armrest, all the safety wizardry one can imagine, a panoramic roof up top, and seating for three in the back. While I didn’t go off-roading, I’m assured—with the right tires—it remains as competent as a Land Rover should. And yet the cabin is brimming with carbon fiber accents and a button that makes the exhaust note even more maniacal. If it has a fault, it would be JLR’s lousy, outdated infotainment system. Using the navigation? Expect to get lost.

On the road it handles with the poise of a sports car half its weight. Aggressive torque vectoring ensures little understeer, and the adaptive dampers keep harshness over bumps to a minimum. Why you need this level of performance over the standard V8 Sport is debatable, and the $30,000 price jump is not insignificant. Then there’s the fuel consumption, which guzzles more swiftly than Charlie Sheen; EPA estimates14 mpg city, 19 mpg highway, 16 mpg combined.

What this is, then, is a toy—a completely unnecessary inanimate object. No one needs this SUV, and yet if you spend just five minutes behind the wheel, you’ll sell your mother-in-law to get it. The same can be said for the Porsche Cayenne Turbo and Turbo S; in fact Porsche claims its S can lap the ‘Ring in a scarcely believable sub 8 minutes. To me, though, the SVR boasts more character. And I’d willingly accept any concerns regarding JLR’s history of poor reliability.

But then maybe I’m an idiot. Maybe Land Rover creating a skunkworks division to build SUVs that go on racetracks and F-Types without roofs is stupid. Maybe I’d be better investing my hypothetical money in bonds or real estate; after all, putting kids through college isn’t cheap. And yet I don’t care about rationality. I don’t care about being sensible. Which is maybe why I can’t afford to buy one in the first place.