Ferrari has done it again. They’ve built a car so rare that even Google only has about six photos of it - the Ferrari SC40. It’s a one-off. Which means, as usual, one very wealthy human walked into Maranello, waved a bank balance that could bail out a small country, and said, “Make me something no one else has.”
The result? A car that’s part tribute, part science experiment, and possibly part fever dream. It’s meant to be a modern homage to the F40 – that glorious, angry wedge that hung on every bedroom wall in the late eighties. But this one looks like what might happen if you fed an F40 a diet of kale, hybrid power, and Italian espresso for 40 years.
The SC40 sits on the bones of a 296 GTB. That means it’s powered by a V6 hybrid system rather than a fire-breathing twin-turbo V8. So while it nods to the past with its fixed wing, sharp angles, and louvred engine cover, it’s secretly running on laptop batteries. Enzo would either be proud or haunting someone right now.
Ferrari insists it’s not a “reinterpretation” of the F40. They call it a homage - which is car-speak for, “Please don’t shout at us on the internet.” And to be fair, they’ve nailed the details. The rear wing is big enough to dry washing on. The vents and ducts look borrowed straight from the eighties. It’s white, too - which feels cheeky, given the F40’s strict red-only dress code.
There’s no official price, because Ferrari doesn’t do things like that. If you need to ask, you’re in the wrong postcode. But safe to say, it’ll be somewhere between “ouch” and “goodbye, both kidneys.” And yes, I’d probably give my right arm if they agreed to let me buy it - which is exactly why Ferrari keep making these things.
The SC40 joins a long list of what Ferrari calls “Special Projects” - a secretive part of the company where customers can basically design their own car. Past clients include Eric Clapton, who commissioned the SP12 EC (essentially a 458 Italia dressed up to look like a 512 BB). There’s also the P80/C, a track car so aggressive it looks like it’s about to punch a Porsche. Every one-off follows the same pattern: someone with taste, money, and probably a very patient spouse walks in, sketches an idea on a napkin, and waits two years while Ferrari turns it into carbon fibre reality.
And that’s the genius of Ferrari. They don’t just sell cars; they sell dreams - expensive, petrol-scented dreams that most of us will only ever experience through a computer screen. The SC40 might not be pretty in a traditional sense, but that’s missing the point. It’s a conversation piece. It’s art. It’s proof that somewhere out there, Ferrari still has the courage to make something that’ll split opinion faster than pineapple on pizza.
Look long enough, and the SC40 grows on you. Those sharp lines start to make sense. The high tail looks purposeful rather than odd. It’s not quite F40 beautiful - that’s impossible - but it carries the spirit. It’s the kind of car you’d spot at a Supercar Driver event and pretend to dislike, all while secretly wondering how you could remortgage the house to afford one.
The thing about one-offs is that they’re absurd and brilliant in equal measure. They’re Ferraris turned up to eleven. And while we can joke about trading body parts for the privilege, the truth is we love that Ferrari still does this. That someone, somewhere, is brave enough to say, “Let’s build a modern F40.”
So yes, I’m not entirely sure if I like it. It’s bold. It’s odd. It’s probably the closest anyone will ever get to owning a modern version of the F40 - and that’s reason enough for me to be utterly fascinated by it.
If Ferrari rang tomorrow and said, “Paul, it’s yours if you want it,” I’d already be halfway to Maranello - sleeve rolled up, right arm ready to negotiate.
Written by: Paul Pearce