Ferrari California Cabrio

Color It Red, Like a Sea of Ink

By JERRY GARRETT (New York Times - October 18, 2009)

A new Corsa-red Ferrari California convertible, its top down, pulled to a stop under the immense porte-cochère at the St. Regis Monarch Beach resort. An eager valet sprinted over to offer assistance. This was exactly the type of car he would park by the main entrance — not in the garage — to be flaunted like a trophy, a sign of the stature and allure of the ocean-view resort.

The California is aptly named; it is a perfect pace car for the Land of the Endless Summer. Here, idling in front of an opulent resort in Orange County, the car was a portrait of grand touring panache — except the scene it inhabited this day was rather surrealistic.

The couple in the Ferrari weren’t checking in, they were stopping to see if the sprawling resort — the only California hotel to get five stars from Mobil — was still open. It was, but the place, which sprawls over the hills above Monarch Bay, was practically empty.

For good reason: the faux-Tuscan village of alabaster and terra cotta had just been seized by creditors. We were visiting on the day Citigroup found itself in possession of a fancy ocean-view hotel, and it seemed nobody had tipped off the poor, earnest parking valet.

The Monarch Beach had already drawn notice as the site of an infamous September 2008 retreat for a subsidiary of the American International Group, the insurance giant. Just days after taxpayers tossed A.I.G. an $85 billion lifeline, sales agents for AIG General racked up a $442,000 tab here, including $150,000 for food and $23,000 at the spa.

Since then, Monarch Beach has become something of a symbol for unjustifiable excess. Conventions, which once accounted for up to 80 percent of revenue, evaporated. The Orange County Business Journal reported that the summer occupancy rate was only 15 percent. Bnet Travel, an online travel industry publication, called the resort “a very fancy white elephant.”

Those missing guests surely include some of the privileged people who used to buy Ferraris, and certainly the Italian sports car maker is not immune from their economic distress. Instead of the usual three- to five-year backlog of orders for its new cars, the company says the California has a waiting list of only 18 months. As Ferraris go, it’s almost a buyer’s market.

The California is the company’s least expensive model by far. With a base price of less than $200,000 (as tested, $216,553), it is a relative bargain by Ferrari standards. Its standard features include a 453-horsepower V-8 engine (a detuned version of the F430’s power plant), a 7-speed dual-clutch transmission, ceramic brakes and racing-inspired traction and launch controls that enable 3.5-second runs from a stop to 60 miles an hour.

But detractors point to what they say are compromises:

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“The head unit for the stereo and navigation system is straight out of a Chrysler minivan.” That’s damning, but not really true. Yes, the Chrysler MyGIG infotainment system is similar, but Chrysler did not develop it; a Canadian company, QNX, did. The Ferrari uses a unit made by Harman/Becker, a QNX affiliate. Regardless, it is a high-quality unit.

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“The four chrome tailpipes are useless — they’re not connected to anything.” Yes, the exhaust principally exits elsewhere under the car, but the pipes help to dissipate heat, Ferrari says. (Do not touch: they are hot!)

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“It looks as if Peugeot designed the grille.” Though it might have seemed so when the car was introduced a year ago in Los Angeles, I no longer see the resemblance. Here, the Pininfarina studio’s styling is lovingly executed, and the razor-sharp lines fairly ooze Ferrari DNA.

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“It has a big fat rear end.” Yes, the California gets a standard rear parking sensor because you can’t see out when backing up. Its bustle is big, but that’s because the retractable hardtop has to fit inside. Is the backside grossly disproportionate compared with other open-air grand touring cars? Not really.

And then there is this basic question from the skeptics: Who wants to drive a Ferrari with an automatic transmission and a V-8 engine mounted in the front?

Well, I do, for one.

It’s hard to believe Ferrari has never before made a car with a front-mounted V-8; indeed, in its earliest conceptual form, this car was destined to be a Maserati.

But any concern about whether the California is a true Ferrari will be blown out the fake exhausts by the engine’s soul-satisfying salvos. The car’s curb appeal is seductive, judging by the covetous looks it attracted, but its rear-biased proportions are a bit harsh by Ferrari standards.

The double-wishbone suspension can be harsh, too, especially in sport mode, but I found it satisfyingly unflappable over a range of surfaces. (An active computer-controlled suspension is optional.) In automatic mode, the transmission balks at slow speeds; in manual mode, you may tire of shifting through so many gears.

The optional back seat of my test car was done in caramel leather that looked good enough to eat. It added almost $6,000 to the price and, while beautiful, was tiny, plank-hard and unfit for human habitation.

The California is a vehicle upon which Ferrari has staked much. At its factory in Maranello, Italy, an area once graced by rows of blood-red racing cars has been cleared out and converted to a state-of-the-art assembly line dedicated to the California.

While Ferraris were traditionally built by hand, this one gets its window glass from the company’s first robotic assembly unit — a jarring sight in an Old World shop where seamstresses still hand-sew the upholstery.

Californias creep down the line by millimeters a day, five days a week, at a pace that will churn out 3,000 a year. That’s a minuscule amount in the total universe of the automobile industry. But it is a veritable avalanche for a company that once (40 years ago) balked at the idea of building even a run of 50 cars; in one notable instance, Enzo Ferrari refused to build more than 25. But times change, as does Ferrari.

Profitability usually trumps most other considerations in today’s auto industry. And who’s to say what the sustainable balance is between volume and exclusivity? Or for that matter, where’s the line between the tasteful and the vulgar? In today’s recessionary times, can luxury co-exist with lowered expectations? Just ask the valet at Monarch Beach.