Clearly, given the nature of its raw performance, the SVR would be nothing without commensurate enhancement of the Sport’s chassis. But we’d argue that it would have been rendered equally defunct were the car not still discernibly a Range Rover.
The careful treading of this fine line, somewhere between unstoppable force and immovable object, is a core part of what makes the new model such a compelling vehicle to drive. That said, not even Land Rover, with its favourite suspension spring medium – namely air – to play with, can entirely conceal a whopping tightening of the dynamic screw. Consequently, the suspension’s usual mighty consumption of bumps comes now with a certain constriction.
This you’ll notice before anything else, because to get to the higher speeds where the trade-off proves rather inspired, you must first traverse the low speeds at which it feels incrementally less accomplished.
However, even in town, ride comfort remains of a standard that would make the German engineer of an equally fast saloon weep into his currywurst. And as you still sit high above it all, the car’s capacity to absorb the world underneath you unheralded is still largely intact, but the ability to then make it disappear behind you in fierce, scathing bursts is all-new.
With the adaptive settings left unaltered, the SVR’s heightened potential feels much as SVO promised: a firmer, flatter, pointier Range Rover Sport. That literal description hardly explains the molten pleasure of the thing, though.