The Ultimate Showdown: Aston Martin Vantage, Porsche 911 GTS, and BMW M4 CS Battle for Supremacy!

The broader-shouldered Vantage does not merely appear formidable. Clearly, it is tired of being referred to as the ‘baby Aston’ or the ‘entry-level’ model, and it shows no mercy. Entrusting a hefty 656bhp solely to the rear tires, it boasts significantly more muscle than its predecessor, aided by larger turbos and Aston’s engineers devising a completely new engine management system instead of delicately navigating AMG’s programming.

Photography: John Wycherley

And indeed, it looks more exotic, exuding the confidence of a vehicle that rightfully commands a price tag of £165,000. The bulging rear quarters highlight the cinched waist and bless the entire wide-mouthed ensemble with a touch reminiscent of the One-77 stance. Throughout the morning, the team has been admiring it in the pits, fabricating excuses to avoid taking it out on the track.

I selected the new 911 to familiarize myself with Navarra, which might seem peculiar to anyone who grew up perceiving these eccentric rear-engine coupes as stubborn, difficult widowmakers. We matched it against the finest sports coupes from Aston and BMW’s M division, and it turns out the anti-physics Porsche is the least punishing.

How did that transpire? Yes, there are contemporary tires and traction control, but it’s the manner of the latest 911 that’s remarkably forgiving. You can fling it into a corner with complete indifference to its layout, and it will comply just like a mid-engined vehicle. You can nudge it with a completely irrational mid-corner lift and a gulp ’n’ pray confidence brake, if you wish. It won’t retaliate.

Everyone who tries it returns with grins about how it combines adjustability with immense grip. Rowan mentions it’s impressively playful for an all-wheel drive vehicle. “Um, mate,” I gesture towards the badge. “It’s not a ‘4’. It’s rear-wheel drive only.” He sputters like the marshal who was mentally blinded by The Stig and staggers away, shaking his head.

You may have previously read about the 911 Turbo edge narrowly claiming victory over the new Vantage on the road – less flamboyant, but more practical. During Speed Week, we focus less on the mundane and are more concerned with what excites. Therefore, the 911 doesn’t get penalized for lacking rear seats here – they curiously now occur as a cost option, allowing Porsche to homologate the vehicle at 10kg lighter.

Why the eagerness to reduce weight? Because in this 992 GTS, there’s an additional 50kg of hybrid components to haul (a shoebox-sized battery beneath the windscreen powers a lag-reducing motor on the turbo, alongside a torque-enhancing motor within the transmission). However, you won’t sense that anything has been dulled or see anything out of place. No green insignia or fluorescent brake calipers. No crawling down the pitlane in e-mode. Just a rapid power delivery that makes what’s nominally the ‘mid-range’ 911 supercar feel quick. It’s yet another thoroughly well-rounded, refined, polished Porsche 911, as one would anticipate, after 63 years of progress.

Now, let’s end the BMW’s suffering. The M division is currently going through a strangely uneven, um, patch. During last year’s Speed Week, we enjoyed the M2 and M3 Touring, though neither shone brightly enough to secure a place in the final judgment. A year before, we criticized the hefty M4 CSL – the most unworthy attempt to wear a badge since I sought to become school prefect.

This CS is expected to consolidate the findings of the CSL into a daily drivable blend. Plenty of positive news too: it’s not a limited edition, is £8k cheaper, and retains the same overboosted 543bhp engine. Happy with your purchase, CSL owners?

Underneath, the CS features stiffer engine mounts, improved cooling for the motor, and the all-wheel drive to outperform standard M4s on the track, tougher suspension plus a 20kg weight reduction due to various carbon panels and a loud titanium exhaust. Today, it should be wunderbar. There should be fights over the keys.

Instead, there’s whispering. I’m hearing grievances regarding a massive dead zone in the steering just off-center, and that it’s so heavy the front tires are falling apart.

With apprehension, I begin to familiarize myself with the M4. I drove one earlier this year as preparation to test the new M5 – a clever method of making the M4 feel as nimble as a Caterham. So far, so M4. The absurd carbon thigh gutter seats remain, and the straight six continues to produce a guttural, enhanced noise as it growls out of the pits while I scroll

through the infinite menus discovering a potential settings combination. Traction control set to the fantastic Dynamic mode halfway disengaged, AWD system distributing most of the torque to the rear, with throttle response and shift speeds cranked up to the limit.

For two laps, the CS is hopeless. Perhaps it’s malfunctioning. It won’t brake straight and true, it won’t initiate a turn. Eventually, it stubbornly understeers away from the apex. It’s exasperating. Apply power to rectify the situation and it pendulums into a chaotic skid that I recover from while inadvertently flicking the wiper stalk and honking the horn. What’s happening? It turns out the already struggling tyres are Pirelli’s Trofeo R chewing gum specification, which require a gentle warming to reach optimal performance.

Once they become sticky, the M4 transforms into a different vehicle. Trust that it’ll grip despite how uninspiring the hefty steering wheel feels in your grip. Be assured it’ll find excellent traction when you accelerate. The CS doesn’t favor carrying substantial turn-in speed, but once it stabilizes, it achieves a pleasing balance. It’s even more enjoyable when you mute the absurd upshift ‘thud’ they’ve programmed into the swift yet uninvolving automatic transmission.

The GTS places its performance on such a low pedestal, leaving you with minimal to do

Jethro is among the few to uncover the joy to be found here but concludes this allegedly hardcore, focused M4 oddly performs better in its everyday all-wheel-drive mode. The CS struggles to find its footing. It fails to satisfy those seeking the ultimate daily sports coupe or anyone who hops in looking for amusement. Would less ridiculous tyres have made a difference? We appreciated the M3 CS on the road, but at this moment, facing formidable competition, its M4 counterpart fails to justify being a £120,000 standalone variant. Opt for an M2. Or an M3 Touring. Both will have CS variants arriving next year.

Things are (as usual) looking bright for the 911, but there are a couple of caveats. Firstly, under no circumstances should you drive this vehicle with the sports exhaust activated. The harsh roar it produces is the most artificial sound ever captured in a Porsche, Taycan included. It’s merely volume and resonance, lacking in pitch, timbre, or the nostalgia-inducing flat-six burble. At least when switched off, you can detect a hint of the menacing ‘wheeeeee’ as the e-turbo spins away. GTS? Suffering from Tinnitus, Scheiße.

There’s also something amiss here beyond the lack of melody. The GTS places its performance on such a low pedestal, leaving you with minimal to do. GTS has always signified Porsche’s ‘sweet spot’ but this iteration resembles more of a 911 Turbo-lite, a highly capable all-rounder devoid of character amid its ‘measurable on a graph’ dominance. Having an S/T nearby prompts questions: if you can craft a 911 that exceptional, why aren’t they all of that caliber?

It’s also prohibitively expensive. This grey and black model arrived with a £180,000 as-tested price tag. Yes, ceramic brakes and anti-roll suspension are costly, and you likely won’t require either, but for such an expenditure, wouldn’t you expect a heightened sense of occasion?

This is where the Vantage (£165k prior to optional extras) excels to an almost absurd extent. The gap in improvement compared to the previous model is immense, not only in the tactile yet imperfect interior (the displays can only be read with a microscope, the seat controls are poorly positioned, and the target audience would perform DIY vasectomies on the bare carbon seat bolster). And not just in the significant power boost, as we’re no longer as easily impressed by power due to the rise of EVs. If you want ‘a quick vehicle’, acquire a Tesla. Providing a short wheelbase with more power than an Enzo is a calculated overkill. It sends a clear signal to customers and competitors. No longer Mr. Nice Aston.

“Wild.” “Spicy.” “Hairy.” “A handful, innit?” “Ow, my nads.” And various other more unrepeatable summaries. Just a handful of opinions were expressed by the guys as they emerged from behind the swan door, cheeks puffed. It doesn’t take long in the hot seat to realize why. This is a vehicle crafted to evoke laughter, gasps, and exclamations.

First, there’s the astonishing amount of torque. This V8 has never lacked low-end power, but the speed it accumulates from lazy revs in fourth gear is uproarious. The Aston’s quickened gearbox is the weakest link among the three vehicles here, especially when it outright dismisses downshifts under hard braking, but you soon learn to adapt by simply opting not to shift gears.

The Aston overwhelms the inert M4 and clinical 911 with its robust character

No apparent reason to shift gears, unless you enjoy your passenger suffering ear bleeds on the seats. For a turbo engine, the level of authenticity and aggression that’s been unleashed is astounding. It’s every bit as overengineered as those delightfully extravagant twin supercharged brick s***house Vantages from the 1990s. How irked must AMG be that just as it’s busy tarnishing the C63’s V8 legacy, Aston has delivered its most breathtaking performance to date?

So, the engine takes center stage. The remainder mostly complements it. Even on the track, the Vantage feels overly firm in its track configuration – we all enjoy it most once the dampers are reverted to the Comfort setting, aligning with Ollie’s discoveries on the road. On the track, its heft isn’t a concern, and the steering feels substantial yet relaxed and deliberate, allowing you to accurately select a line before focusing entirely on a battle of wits with your right foot.

Speaking of which, there’s a traction control system to promote antics – ‘1’ is mostly engaged, ‘8’ is completely disengaged. I confess I spun it in ‘4’ merely to demonstrate this isn’t some foolproof drift mode. This vehicle demands respect. At times, you’re not even piloting it. You’re merely hanging on.

The Aston overpowers the inert M4 and the clinical 911 with its vibrant character. Too much automobile to manage? For me, certainly. But I’m in good company.