“With MC20, we made our comeback,” states Maserati at the media launch of the new MCPura. In the hearts of enthusiasts, they’re not wrong – the MC20 is a spectacular little supercar, one which appeared somewhat out of the blue to quickly sweep up several high-profile awards. Small wonder, perhaps, that its MCPura replacement sticks so closely to the original script of five years ago.
A full rundown of its advancements over an MC20 shan’t take long. Quite how they’ve strung the official press release out to 16 pages, I’ll never know, and you must be one of the designers (or designers’ mums) to properly tell an MCPura from an MC20 at a quick glance. The front and rear bumper treatments are new, and supposedly more aggressive thanks to inspiration from the GT2 Stradale wild child, but this new car does – to our eyes, at least – look a bit cleaner and less fussy this time around. Still a stunner, basically.
Inside, leather has made way for Alcantara (but you can still spec either), the steering wheel’s top and bottom are flattened and there’s some new performance data to be found by swiping through its still-fiddly touchscreen. And that, my friends, really is it. Which, if you’ve experienced an MC20, might prove something of a relief. Its strident 3.0-litre V6 ‘Nettuno’ turbo hasn’t gained even an ounce of electrical assistance (potentially a surprise, given everything else within House of Stellantis is generally going that way) and still knocks out 630hp at a mite under 8,000rpm. Whether you choose the Coupe or marginally heavier Cielo drop-top, you’ll hit 62mph in just 2.9 seconds; only the fully closed car breaches 200mph officially, although the retractable hard-top version gets within the finest whisker of it.
But forget outright speed. The neatest trick of the MC20 was how it made a raw and visceral driving experience feel so honed and cohesively engineered. The flaws and curiosities of its performance felt baked in and intentional, the whole thing perfectly imperfect.
I’ll admit my only previous MC20 experiences have been on damp, gritty UK roads, where the car felt wonderfully unhinged on full throttle and deliciously readable and compliant when I diligently strung a few corners together. It had that modern Ferrari sensation of immediately giving you utmost trust in what’s going on beneath, ensuring a flick of the oddly recalcitrant drive mode dial to Corsa – to ramp up the damping and loosen the nannies – felt the most natural thing in the world.
Experiencing the MCPura in warm, autumnal Italy is mighty different in terms of grip – there’s tons of it beneath the 305-section tyres, even with deliberate yobbery – but the overall sensation is still wonderfully reminiscent. With such strong traction, Corsa mode ought to be your default setting given how studious it reveals the control systems to be in anything else. You’ve little need for them suppressing your style when the car is so balanced and readable, though I can see the appeal of its stricter Sport mode back in Britain.
Whichever way you’ve flicked its dial, this is a wildly accelerative car, its EV-rivalling performance claims no less arresting away from the spec sheet. It’s still heavier than you’d hope a carbon-tubbed Italian sports car would be, and it still doesn’t especially act like it on the road, sling-shotting forwards out of Autostrada toll booths with just the tiniest scurry from its rear tyres.
The metallic paddles are pleasing to operate and the eight-speed DCT at the end of them is just the right side of aggressive, though this isn’t, sadly, an engine you’re desperate to wring out every ratio of. It’s just as much fun to short shift through its torque, a cacophony of huffs, whistles and chuffs the whole way. The paddles play tunes here as much as they dictate your progress and it’s a powertrain with real reach and flexibility – it’s just not overflowing with soul. The car feels slap bang between an Alpine and McLaren in attitude, and its V6 soundtrack has a similarly bassy, industrial edge to the more familiar fours and eights.
Whirring the Cielo’s roof open lets more sound pour in, but it’ll also invite far too much wind on longer drives. The artful folding mechanism yields a slim targa opening and just like a 911 Targa or MX-5 RF, it’s all a bit too blustery at speed and best saved for low-speed mooching. Its trick glass roof – which flicks between clear and opaque via a messy touchscreen sub-menu – helps assuage some of its shame.
Roughly two-thirds of MCPura buyers will play Cielo and I didn’t once pine for further rigidity or focus from the chassis, though I suspect I’d personally choose the Coupe for the glass engine cover and the extra ogling opportunities it provides when stood still. The cabrio’s 85kg weight disadvantage is pleasingly slim and it’s clear the carbon core of the car was designed with both bodies in mind.
The media launch also informs us that existing owners love their MC20 for its usability, frequently indulging in long trips away (apparently). Admirable when its luggage and cubby space are both so limited and your bags will be parboiled if they’re perched behind the Nettuno out back. Nowt’s changed for the Pura and there remains a sliver of a glovebox and only one cupholder; the feeling of an overly boosted A110 is always lingering in the background. Which is mostly a vociferous compliment.
If you are buying an MCPura for everyday endeavours, I’d avoid the carbon ceramic brakes, which feel like a throwback in their lack of feedback (yet obscene squeal) during sedate use. I’d specify the suspension lifter, though, whose appearance as a mere option does feel stingy. Same goes for the electronic limited-slip differential. We’ve never tried a media demonstrator without one and it feels ludicrous to imagine anyone buying a 630hp, rear-drive supercar without it.
Options and customisation are rife, of course, and the MCPura plays even more into the hands of Modena’s Fuoriserie division than its predecessor. No longer toying with '90s restomods – for shame – they’re now going great guns with personalisation and have a brand new paint shop to prove it.
Before you’ve even entered the world of paint to sample, there are over 30 colours and ten wheel options. The latter are all 20-inch in size and favour a three-spoke feel (if not physical design). The vast majority of buyers will dip a toe into the pricey world of Fuoriserie, with around a quarter diving deep into the bespoke opportunities. When retained values aren’t looking amazing, buying one of these new is already a bit of a punt – so perhaps you owe it to yourself to avoid resale silver and indulge in some Night Interaction or Nude Texturised. Yes, those really are MCPura colours. Wonder what was on the design team’s minds that day…
The base price hasn’t much changed, starting at £209,930 for the Coupe and £234,890 for the Cielo. If you weren’t sold on an MC20 originally, the MCPura does nothing to change your mind now. It instead gives existing customers a chance to pop back to the dealer for a pricey upgrade and a new, saucily named colour, their fresh Nettuno V6 primed and ready to drown out any scary noise about what’s happening to Maserati in a broader context. Cute mid-engine balance, great steering and a supple ride, but with a wild turbocharged ride lurking when you command it. And proper supercar doors. Though the MCPura may not feel especially new, we’re still wholly thankful it’s here.
SPECIFICATION | 2026 MASERATI MCPURA CIELO
Engine: 2992cc V6, twin-turbocharged
Transmission: 8-speed twin-clutch, rear-wheel drive
Power (hp): 630@7,500rpm
Torque (lb ft): 538@3,000rpm
0-62mph: 2.9sec
Top speed: 199mph
Weight: 1,560kg
MPG: 24.5
CO2: 261g/km
Price (from): £234,890
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