Review of Lamborghini Huracan 2015: road tests

Lift the red cover on the Huracan's start button and get ready to take off.

If Santa was flying to my house in a Christmas car, I would have my fingers crossed for the Rolls-Royce Phantom. After all, if you're going to dream, you can dream big.

For many people, the inner child yearns for something more… well… outrageous. Something like a Lamborghini Huracan.

This is the car that appears on the poster on the boy's wall, continuing the tradition that goes back to the Diablo and Countach and ending with the 1960s Miura and setting the stage for a dream life.

When a machine like the Huracan jumps off the wall into the back world, it punches people right in the face. In the world of Corollas and Camry, they are not even remotely ready for something that is so outrageously out of step with the automotive mainstream.

Almost everyone turns to look, stare, smile and wave.

I know because I just got behind the wheel of a Huracan and almost everyone is turning around, gawking, gawking, smiling and waving.

One guy nearly crashed his HiLux because he was focusing on the Huracan in the mirror instead of driving ahead.

It probably helps that the Tick's car is matte black, giving it a more than passing resemblance to the Batmobile.

As a reminder, the Huracan is a brand new replacement for the Gallardo, sliding below the berserk Aventador but still with a $428,000 starting price, a howling 5.2kW 10L V449 engine and a stunning body that is truly futuristic.

Parking is hard, even with the optional rearview camera and parking sensors - can you believe they expect you to pay an extra $5700 for the perk? — and there are only two seats and no real space for luggage. It's also fuel-hungry, impossible to hide, and you'll need something sensible like a Camry - or perhaps a Phantom - for family duties.

But I don't think about any practical things when I get into the Huracan. I'm as happy as a six-year-old on Christmas morning when I realize that I'm actually going to operate this weapon.

I feel the same way when I lift the red cover on the start button - the same theater as in the Aventador - and fire up the V10. Only then can I relax a little and recognize the multimedia screen, switches and quality finishes. This marks the Huracan as a close relative of the Audi R8, supplying the base Italian stallion.

That means a mid-engine layout with lots of aluminum in the body, all-wheel drive on the LP 610-4, German-style air conditioning that actually works, and service intervals set at 12 months or the unlikely 10,000 km in that time.

When I get into traffic, I'm reminded to press the "nose up" button to keep the car from dragging down the driveway and leave the car in full "automatic" mode while I adjust to the scene.

It's cramped because the car is very wide and low, and the visibility is just awful. I can see a lot down and over my nose, but not much more. Therefore, I rely on the goodwill and patience of the people around me.

On the freeway, I can push the revs past 4000, getting a massive burst of power and a wonderful howl from the engine that feels freer than I remember from the R8. It helps that the redline is 8500 rpm and that's when the engine really squeals.

I'm still in the Strada settings for softer suspension and throttle response, but the 20-inch rubber makes a lot of tire noise that wins in corners.

A little later, and I push harder when I realize it doesn't make sense. I'm just going to get in trouble and there's no way to explore the real potential of the Huracan without hitting the race track.

It's a stupid, glorious, marvelous rocket ship car, but in the everyday world, it's as useful as a mankini.

So I'm reduced to the occasional bump coming out of slow corners, using the paddles to downshift than the car is really supposed to have fun with.

I find the suspension more supple than I expected, the leather buckets are just right shaped and supported, the handlebar feel is great, and every journey takes longer than expected because someone wants to talk about my Batmobile.

That's all good news, and it's also fun to take a few people in for rap and romp. Not too much noise or rage, you know, but a chance to see what a Lamborghini is.

Then, a day later, I found that I had completed the Huracan. Yes indeed.

It's a wacky, glorious, wonderful rocket car, but it's just as useful in the everyday world as the outrageous Ferrari F12 or mankini.

The Huracan is for the person who has at least four cars in their garage and chooses the one that suits their needs or mood for the day. It's likely that they have something like a huge SUV and a four-door family car like a Benz S-Class, and maybe a battered Land Rover or HiLux to test drive.

Driving the Huracan - like other supercars in the Aventador and F12, and especially the experience of driving in the snow in Italy with the Gallardo - is wish list time, but it's not realistic.

And that's the problem with the Huracan.

It's great fun and brilliantly addictive, but it's not a car you would even remotely recommend to a friend.

At least not my friends.

Even if they had the money, I'd rather point them to the Mercedes C63 AMG, or the Ferrari 488, or the Audi R8, which costs a lot less and offers more practicality and more fun than its Italian cousin.

I totally understand what a Huracan is and I know there are people who would never be happier than if Santa gave them a Batmobile, but that's not enough.

So I can understand why people love the Nissan GT-R and dream of the Huracan, but I'm tied to the real world and have to think about more than just the temporary high that a beautiful Lamborghini can deliver.

As much as it pains me, and I know how overloaded my inbox will be, I can't give Tick to Huracan.