It’s always been easy to make fun of a Rolls-Royce. “At 60 miles an hour, the loudest noise is from the ticking of the bomb planted by the IRA.” But drive a new Phantom drophead coupe and the wisecracks will, ahem, drop right out of your head. There is a 453-hp, 6.8-liter 48-valve V-12 making the car capable of zero to 60 in 5.5 seconds (much faster than the IRA moves these days) and producing a top speed of 148 miles per hour. Computer limitation keeps the Rolls from accelerating further. I did not quite reach limited velocity on the corduroy- and moon crater–textured squiggle of my local New Hampshire roads. Or, if I did, I’m not saying so within Google-reach of small-town police departments.
But I will say the Phantom goes faster than the stink of how rich you’d have to get to buy one. It handles with the educated precision of the Nobel Prize–winning physicist that you’d have to be to repair it. And, thanks to brake discs the size of precious and irreplaceable Edith Piaf original vinyl LPs (14.7 inches in front, 14.6 in back), the Phantom comes to a halt as abruptly as the fall in net worth among Rolls-Royce’s customers while the drophead coupe was in its poorly timed production-planning stage.
Combine the Phantom drophead coupe’s cardinal performance virtues with a 0.37 coefficient of drag (better than an E-type’s) and a six-speed automatic (two more gears than I can usually find when I’m trying to drive fast), and you get a car that makes you feel like you could win Le Mans. And you probably could win Le Mans, at least back in the day, before Gurney and Foyt and their Ford GT40 got into the act (and assuming Gurney and Foyt were driving your Rolls).
