"At first glance, this seems hopelessly one-sided. A pukka fresh-air Ferrari just two generations removed from the new 458 Italia has pull on an industrial scale. All right, the interior could easily belong to a car showing twice the mileage. And the brake light fuse blows every six months. But just look at the thing. You would. You know you would.

The sweet-handling mid-engined Boxster is fanciable but has always seemed way too sensible to eclipse the lure of a Ferrari. But perhaps not this one. The fact that the Spyder gets the more powerful engine from the Cayman S is incidental. Among the more radical gifts from Zuffenhausen’s department of fun include the aesthetic attitude of James Dean’s ill-fated 1950s ‘Little Bastard’ 550 Spyder, a raft of measures to pare, hone and sharpen, and a DIY hood that replaces the regular Boxster’s famously slick, powered foldaway number and would try the patience of a saint on tranquilisers. By Boxster standards it’s shockingly silly. But it might just be irresistibly cool, too: a little bastard with great manners.

So here’s the question. Can a leaner, meaner, re-prioritised Boxster weave enough magic to extinguish the Ferrari dream? I’ve got the Porsche Spyder from my house in Whitstable to Beachy Head Road, winding through the undulating downs above Eastbourne, to form an initial impression, but the mouthwatering prospect of a lighter, harder Boxster (a sort of GT3 RS version) is going to give objectivity a hard time.

Few car makers know more about sucking weight out of a car than Porsche, and the Spyder weighs a useful 80 kilos less than the Boxster S at the kerb. In fact, at 1275kg, it’s currently the lightest car Porsche makes. Ditching the electric roof for the rudimentary fully detachable hood called ‘the Cap’ sounds like madness but the new carbon-framed weather-repelling arrangements weigh a paltry 11kg all told. The aluminium doors and long rear deck save another 18kg and the carbon-backed bucket seats 12kg. The new ten-spoke rims are the lightest 19-inchers Porsche makes, and the shallower side windows weigh less than the standard items as well. The rear boot’s gone for a burton, limiting the amount of weight that can be added. Stuff can still be stowed in a small well just behind the engine, but you have to lift the entire rear deck to get at it, and with the detached hood occupying the space there’s no room for anything else.

No matter. Sitting 20mm closer to the ground, the Spyder driver’s ‘office’ is as comfortable, ergonomically sussed and well made as the regular Boxster’s, with superb support from the seats. The driving position is millimetre-perfect, too, not just in relation to the major controls but to the windscreen, which is lower and further away than in, say, a 911 Cabrio, the better to deflect air over the occupants’ heads, while the cluster of overlapping major dials (with that big, central rev-counter) couldn’t be better placed.

With a light clutch and a beautifully precise and well-oiled gearchange, the Spyder is as untaxing to drive as any other Boxster. But the available urge, massaged by the extra 10bhp and the substantial weight loss, feels more charismatically 911-like than ever, the weight reduction amplifying mid-range torque and the baleful engine note at full chat (especially with the Sport button engaged), encouraging a red-line rendezvous at every shift.

There are clearly areas where the Boxster shows itself to be the more modern car. On poorly-surfaced roads, its ride is extremely firm but the body structure feels vault-solid where the Ferrari’s shakes and shimmies. And the 360 doesn’t feel as secure on the limit, a point where the bond of trust between driver and chassis begins to curl up at the edges. It’s more an impression than a certainty – the 360 plants too much rubber on the road to betray all but the most wreckless of pilots – but sometimes, powering out of medium-to-fast corners it’s hard to tell whether the rear is taking up suspension slack or beginning to slide. Which rather puts a cap on confidence.

And it’s true, the Boxster Spyder can easily keep up on the twisty roads of the South Downs, even teach the Ferrari a few things about chassis neutrality and poise in extremis. It corners harder and with a little more fluidity, though with less communication and less involvement. But the 360 Spider delivers such an intoxicating hit of pure supercar sensation that all of this seems almost unimportant."

Driving the 360 flat-out is just plain thrilling. The scream and shove of that extraordinary flat-plane crank V8 makes a crucial difference. For all its talent as a pure driving machine, the Boxster Spyder isn’t a supercar. The 360 Spider, on the other hand, remains one of the best. To read the complete article visit