BMW M5 30 Jahre (F10) | PH Heroes

The F10 is the forgotten M5, but its curious positioning between eras is a beguiling one...

By Stephen Dobie / Saturday, 25 October 2025 / Loading comments

It’s perhaps no surprise that the F10 30 Jahre’s power-to-weight ratio beats that of the current G90 BMW M5. The latter is a chunky old thing, after all. But what really underscores the brutal output of this decade-old M car is its sole driven axle. Its 600hp isn’t to be shrugged at and put through only two wheels (via antiquated electronics), it’s quite something to encounter.

Let’s not pretend the F10 is an immediate Hero shoo-in. Its place at the M5 party is a little muted, cautiously clutching its drink in the corner while the more extrovert attendees let rip. But don’t forget this was the first turbocharged M5, and a typical example of the breed in the way it wedded monstrous performance to everyday liveability. It just did so with perhaps less panache or precision than some of its more iconic namesakes.

The M5 30 Jahre arrived in May 2014 to sharpen things up and celebrate, you guessed it, 30 years of the M5. Limited to 300 cars, just ten per cent of those were allocated to the UK, the bulk of which remain. “This special edition is not only the most powerful BMW M5 ever to emerge from series production under the auspices of BMW M GmbH, but also the most powerful production car in the history of the brand,” read its grandiose launch statement.

The ‘S63’ 4.4-litre V8 twin-turbo had its peak outputs raised to 600hp and 516lb ft – figures which weren’t much improved when the F90 M5 first launched with 4WD – and proved enough to shuttle the 30 Jahre to 62mph in 3.9 seconds. If you could hook all that power up, of course. Headlining its raiding of the BMW Individual configurator was matt grey (sorry, Frozen Dark Silver) paint that’s aged marvellously, no doubt with meticulous care. The interior was a sea of leather, Alcantara and special edition badging – including a naff dashboard sticker – and beneath it all lay the firmer, 10mm-lower Competition chassis optional on standard F10s at the time.

It remains bafflingly big, even if it’s around 100m smaller than a G90 in both width and length, and the impression is only strengthened as you get going. There’s no four-wheel steer to help you tuck this one around a multi-storey, but the steering itself is a hydraulic system that’s abundant in feel and natural feedback. My muscle memory of it tingles merely typing these words, so rich does it now feel in a world of EPAS.

And its rich babble of information is useful for feeling on top of what is quite a boisterous car on a grimy B road. The proliferation of both electric and four-wheel-drive performance cars means the ability is just mash your foot whenever the opportunity presents, for the car to just dismiss the physics it must conquer, is something that’s all too easy to take for granted. Even rear-drive Ferraris and McLarens save our blushes with complementary (and complimentary…) stability and traction control systems.

The F10 has such systems of course, but it’s amazing how quickly tech like this ages. Here is a car that requires prudence even with its systems firmly ‘on’, demonstrating a warning flare of revs and a squiggle of its rear axle even hauling fourth gear as a village makes way for national speed limit. But that feeling of having to warm up both the tyres and yourself, to tentatively push the car beneath you a little bit further each time you exit a junction or corner, is thrilling. Anticipation is often more exciting than the event itself, and you can be in thrall of the M5 and its abundant power without plundering much of it at all. Promise. Feeling your way around a performance car as surfaces and components slowly get up to temperature is a skill that may well be lost to increased electrification. Let’s hope not.

Indeed this is a car that soars for its lack of electrification. This engine exudes star quality even when you’re just rumbling around on its bassy torque. No sound augmentation, no mild hybridisation, just pure V8. Perhaps it’s a bit too easy to punt around in town, certainly given how many moments you might wonder if it’s really an M5 rather than a plushly painted 5-Series with a loutish exhaust. Its gearbox helps snap you out of such slumber; while I’m a cheery advocate of M Division’s current eight-speed ZF auto, the aggression of this seven-speed twin-clutcher promptly morphs me into a curmudgeon pining for the past. Granted, its reactions contribute to the M5’s occasional traction outage, but it serves up some euphoric moments.

This F10 is an intriguing car to get back to grips with, all told. I'm still not quite sure it knows what it wants to be. It acts the big, comfy limo just pottering around, but without truly accomplished ride comfort to underscore the act. Yet with everything notched up it feels too twitchy for its own mass, its 1,945 kilos never more obvious than when they begin to slip.

A suspension refresh might help. It feels a touch too long in its travel, so even once firmed up in Sport Plus its motions continue a mite too long. Perhaps this particular example needs a refresh or, more likely, a careful aftermarket upgrade might just tie the F10 down and give its chassis the polish that soaring powertrain deserves.

In the meantime, you have three M buttons through which you can individually cycle through Comfort, Sport and Sport Plus for the damping, powertrain and steering, while the stubby gear selector houses the toggle for three levels of shift ferocity. Customisation is easy (and inviting) on the move and you're never tied to one setup, nor must you distractedly ogle a sub-menu to alter anything crucial to the F10 driving experience. This car is a respite from relentless progression in so many ways.

It's old enough to lack CarPlay, natch, and other ergonomic quirks abound. The auto wipers need turning on every time you start the car, the indicator stalk is of BMW’s fiddly self-centring era and there’s no creep built into its DCT, the throttle needing an inordinate amount of flex to get you moving from a standstill. The car doesn’t hold itself as you flick between reverse and drive, either, making manoeuvring its 4.9 metres an unexpected chore. Yet with a vibrant head-up display – the F10 among the early pioneers of a technology now bordering on the ubiquitous – it doesn’t feel entrenched in the past.

Modern turbocharged power without the latest stability and traction control systems, four-wheel steering or four-wheel drive. The curious precipice between eras which the F10 occupies is delicious, and its misunderstanding in hallowed M5 history lends a 600hp, 1.9-ton behemoth more underdog spirit than you’d dare credit. Whether it’s a Civic Type R or Carrera T, there's plenty of ‘last of the last!’ hysteria around certain modern performance cars, their end-of-era vibe commanding some predictably lofty pricing.

With an F10 you can swerve the hype, save a fortune (they’re as little as £16k!) and indulge in a car whose insouciance towards 2020s levels of traction and precision can make you laugh out loud. Never a PH Hero new, it's a delightfully obtuse nomination today.

SPECIFICATION | 2014 BMW M5 30 JAHRE (F10)

Engine: 4,395cc V8 twin-turbo
Transmission: 7-speed dual-clutch transmission (DCT), rear-wheel drive
Power (hp): 600@6,250rpm
Torque (lb ft): 516@1,500-6,000rpm
0-62mph: 3.9sec
Top speed: 155mph (189mph with optional M Driver's package)
Weight: 1,945kg (EU)
MPG: 28.5 mpg (NEDC combined)
CO2: 231g/km
Price new: £91,990 (new)
Price now: £16,000+ (standard F10s)