Rolls-Royce Wraith Review

The Luxury Car That (Practically) Drives Itself

But make no mistake: the car is no sportster. The Wraith echoes back to the classic pre-WWII Grand Tourers of ages past, not the performance-oriented GT’s of the modern age.

This is how I imagined driving a Rolls-Royce would be — rolling through gorgeous sunkissed Los Angeles landscapes with not a single annoyance ruffling my universe. Just the coddling luxury of the Wraith massaging my every sense. We just pit-stopped at the Beverly Hills Hotel’s legendary Polo Lounge for a shot of espresso, and the brief interlude couldn’t have been more fitting. Like Rolls-Royce, the Beverly Hills Hotel is an icon of wealth, a refined shelter of luxury that stands alone, even in its crowded competitive market. You just can’t buy or manufacture that kind of heritage. The very same can be said for Rolls-Royce.
Pulling out of the Hotel and turning right onto the wide thoroughfare, we aim the 207-inch-long barge straight towards the ocean, to the sweeping curves of the Pacific Coast Highway. But first we have to navigate the palm-lined Sunset Boulevard, a street as renowned for its serpentine curves and off-camber corners as it is for its sprawling billionaire estates. And the entire journey is an exercise in opulence, a luscious interplay between man, machine and senses. You don’t so much as drive a Rolls as you are wafted along in one — carried from point A to point B effortlessly in a voluptuous satin bathrobe of seamless mechanics.
On these twisting roads is where the dynamic aspect of the Wraith can best be felt. Two complementary technologies aid in giving the normally analgesic Rolls ride some playfulness: the inclusion of a “Low” button on the front stem and the world’s first satellite-enabled transmission. The former raises the Wraith’s shift points (with no adjustment to steering or throttle), while the latter uses the car’s exact GPS location to predict shifting needs. What this means is if you lift your foot off the throttle while approaching a corner, the Satellite Transmission "sees" the corner, recognizes you’re not simply cruising and prevents upshifting into a more fuel-efficient gear. This technology, lifted from Formula 1 (where it’s currently banned), reduces unnecessary shifts by 30% and keeps the Wraith in a torque-hungrier state.

But make no mistake: The car is no sportster. The Wraith echoes back to the classic pre-WWII Grand Tourers of ages past, not the performance-oriented GTs of the modern age. It has more in common with the iconic "Round Door" Rolls-Royce P1 than a Jaguar E-Type or even Bentley Continental. It was built with long-range drives in mind, the very raison d’être of a classic Grand Tourer, and it does so with the grace, gravity and performance of a trimaran.
Although based on the heavier, blockier Ghost (which is itself based on the BMW 7-Series), Rolls-Royce aimed to give its smaller coupé brethren a more dynamic appearance. This was done via the fastback profile, its long C-pillar swooping with a grand arch to the trunk. It’s wider by 28 mm than the Ghost, with more muscular rear haunches. And the grill is deeper-set — the blades recessed 44 mm, for a more jet-like appeal, referencing the brand’s vaunted aeronautics history. Rolls even tilted the Spirit of Ecstasy hood angel forward five degrees, to give her the forward motion of a sprinter.