Climb in and you immediately notice how low you sit. The exhausts and torque tube are stacked together in the high central tunnel allowing the driver to be dropped right down, race car style, and seemingly at the same level as pedestrians' knees. The cabin is simple but flawlessly finished in leather and carbon-fiber; this is a Lexus, after all, and some things can't be messed with. Most of the cabin functions are handled by the RX-style, remote-touch 'mouse' and a screen, keeping switchgear to a minimum. Again, being a Lexus, the car is fully loaded, but unlike any other Lexus you'll be able to delete items, like the Mark Levinson audio system to save weight. Race-style Alcantara-trimmed fixed bucket seats will be an option.
There's some great cockpit-theatre on start-up, with the four sub-dials in the TFT-screen binnacle radiating out from the main tachometer to take their positions, and the entire display physically motoring sideways to reveal another screen behind for subsidiary functions. But for start-up drama, nothing beats the sound the V10 makes when you thumb the wheel-mounted, carbon fiber starter button; a hard, sharp bark, soon followed by perceptible kick in the back as you select first gear and move off. But again, it's a Lexus. There's occasionally a little kangarooing as you move off but with the 'box in auto mode the LF-A is a surprisingly undemanding drive on city streets, with reasonable low-speed ride quality and decent visibility.
But what you want to know, of course, is how it feels to redline a dry-sumped V10 capable of revving from idle to 9000rpm in just over half a second. The answer? It's as technically impressive as it is viscerally exciting; while the left side of your brain is admiring how such a big engine revs so cleanly and quickly and how perfectly matched the changes are, the right side is craving another hit of the hard, hollow howl you get - all too briefly - as it closes in on the redline. At the risk of sounding spoiled, the LF-A isn't that fast; going sub-four is expected even of junior supercars now. The extra cost doesn't buy you much extra pace, but it's delivered with a character and a technical accomplishment that makes Lexus' first supercar worthy of comparison with its established, exotic, European rivals.
And like the Ferrari 599 in particular, on a twisty road or a track the LF-A seems to shrink, and turns into bends with the keenness and precision and composure of a much smaller, lighter car. It grips hard, rolls progressively and goes exactly where you point it, the quick rack demanding minimal inputs and the uber-responsive engine and 'box ensuring you can always balance the car with power.
The only real issues lie in the steering and the brakes. Electric assistance robs the steering of much of its feel; the front end offers huge grip but little communication. And the carbon-ceramic stoppers, though hugely impressive and utterly fade-free just don't feed back either, though they can be noisy.
So does the LF-A justify that eye-watering sticker price? Objectively, it's not worth double the price of a Lamborghini, but for the 500 lucky enough to get one this won't be a rational purchase; owning the ultimate Japanese supercar, and one capable - at the first attempt - of holding its own next to its aristocratic adversaries will be worth the price of admission.
Tuning Menu
Lexus LF-A Prototype
Engine 4805cc V10
Power 560hp at 8700rpm, 480Nm at 6800rpm, redline 9000rpm; 0-60 3.7, 325km/h
Brakes 390/360mm front/rear, carbon-ceramic, cross-drilled and vented
Wheels & Tires 265/35 ZR20, 305/30 ZR20
suspension & chassis
double wishbone front, multilink rear, aluminum
www lexus.com/fcv/lf_a.html