Driven: Lamborghini Murcielago LP670-4 SV

Riggers finds the last incarnation of the Murcielago hasn't mellowed with age

However you look at the Lamborghini Murcielago, there is simply no getting away from the fact that it is a bit of a dinosaur.

Its V12 engine can be traced more or less directly to the lump found beneath the louvred rump of the 1960s Miura. The Murcielago’s huge footprint and minimal vision make it an increasingly tricky proposition on the UK’s congested road network. And its shamelessly extravagant nature is becoming deeply politically incorrect in a world where even supercars are in danger of having the dreaded word 'hybrid' attached to them (I point you in the direction of the - albeit now canned - Infiniti Essence concept).

The thing is, because there's a six-year-old child somewhere inside every one of us, we all love dinosaurs. We're fascinated by them. I mean, if Jurassic Park was real, you'd sure as hell visit, wouldn’t you?

Of course, the wonderful thing about the Murcielago is that, although it is a dinosaur, it is not yet extinct. This is the last one, though. It’s called the SV (the Lamborghini Murcielago LP670-4 SV to give it its full name) and it’s the latest in a long line of hardcore ‘SuperVeloce’ models that stretches all the way back to the Miura.

Still, we haven’t had one since the Diablo did the SV trick back in 1995, so the Murcielago LP670-4 is a welcome return for the SV badge. As befits an extreme version of an already outrageous supercar, the LP670-4 is littered with carbon fibre bits and bobs both inside and out including – in this car’s case – an utterly lovely but hardly unobtrusive rear wing. Set off against the sparkling orange paint of our test car, the overall effect is stunning, but much in the same way that a whack to the head with a solid-gold cricket bat is stunning; subtle, it ain’t.

At least the Murcielago has the balls to back up its, er, vivid exterior. Behind the seats sits a 6.5-litre V12 that pushes out 661bhp where the ‘standard’ LP640 has to make do with a mere 640bhp, although torque remains the same at 487lb ft. The carbon fibre gewgaws aren’t just for show, though, so that torque has to haul around 100kg less than it does in more workaday Murcielagos.

The result of the weight-saving programme is pretty stellar performance for one so large. There are cars out there that will accelerate quicker, but to call 0-62mph in 3.2secs, 0-100mph in a whisker under 7.0secs and a top speed of 212mph anything other than thoroughly mind-blowing would be churlish to the point of rudeness.

The ease with which that performance is accessible is also truly astonishing - flick the eGear paddleshift into first and all you have to do is plant your right foot while the V12 howls its way to the 8000rpm redline before a ferocious-yet-controlled upshift automatically puts you into the next gear. We had time for a couple of runs on Millbrook’s mile-long straight and could pull a comfortable 185mph before needing to hit the brakes - and that was without anything like a full-on start.

We also wound the big Lambo up around Millbrook’s tortuous hill route and found it to be surprisingly approachable there, too. Sure, the sheer size of it and its capacity to generate huge amounts of pace mean you need to treat the SV with a certain amount of respect, but those 100 kilos of shaved weight actually make the car feel quite nimble. A rock-hard ride and heavy steering always remind you of your place in the grand scheme of things but, provided you stay with in certain bounds, you really can grab the thing by the scruff of the neck. This might well be a classically outrageous supercar, but you can throw it at bends like a hot hatch (oh, all right, a 661bhp 4.7-metre long V12 hot hatch that you can barely see out of and which has only two seats).

It’s a clever trick that the SV manages to play, actually, because this is a car that simultaneously intimidates and puts you at your ease. It’s most definitely a raw-meat-and-muscle sort of supercar - one you have to physically tussle with to get the best out of - but dependable handling and a relatively friendly drivetrain (we wouldn’t want to speculate on how long a clutch would last you in everyday city driving) make it approachable in a way that the most extreme supercars so rarely are.

If you have £270k to spend and want to splash out on a supercar, there are surely few more satisfying directions to point your hard-earned cash.