Alfa Romeo Stelvio Quadrifoglio review: an SUV that’s actually interesting

If anyone can make this sort of car interesting, Alfa Romeo can.

Alfa Romeo Stelvio Quadrifoglio

Back in the ’80s London was full of interesting cars: mid-engine Renault 5s and Alfa Romeo Alfasud Sprint Veloces, rear-wheel drive Toyota Supras and turbocharged Mitsubishi Starions. Even the odd BMW M5. It was like walking around an art gallery – only with a growling, buzzing, throbbing soundtrack.

Now, though, it’s just an endless parade of dreary SUVs. It’s my job to know what they all are, but on a walk yesterday I couldn’t name a single one. They were just grey shapes, like frogspawn. Plainly this sort of car is what everyone is interested in these days, so the week before last I borrowed the Peugeot 5008 Allure for testing. It had a 1.5-litre engine, could go from 0 to 100km/h in a certain length of time, ran on diesel and cost just shy of £30,000. In every way it’s just another SUV, except you don’t look through the steering wheel at the dials. You look over it. And if that’s what you want – if it’s what’s been missing from your life, a new way of mounting the steering wheel – then the Peugeot is the car for you.

Eventually it was taken away – and the car that replaced it was another bloody SUV, but this one was an Alfa Romeo. And if anyone can make this sort of car interesting, Alfa can. It’s called the Stelvio, which means it’s named after a famous bit of road that twists and turns its way up an Alp in Italy. I tried the diesel version last year and it was sort of all right, but this time Alfa sent the full-fat, 378kW Quadrifoglio version.

Now. I adore the engine in this car. It’s a twin-turbo Ferrari V8 with two cylinders lopped off, and it’s a masterpiece. Genuinely, an all-time great. If it were music, it would be Beethoven’s Fifth. If it were art, it would be Turner’s Rain, Steam and Speed – The Great Western Railway. It revs as if it’s held at idle by an elastic band that the throttle just snaps, and the noise it makes can curdle blood at 500 paces. You can use it to potter about, but that’d be like playing chopsticks on the organ in the Royal Albert Hall. This is an engine that wants you to open all the stops, all the time. But would it work in an SUV? That’s what I wanted to know.

Well, to make sure the rest of the car – which is tall, because that’s what people want these days – doesn’t throw its arms in the air and panic when asked to deal with a volcanic burst of power, it’s all been tightened up. Really tightened. And then nailed down. And then fitted with tyres that have the give of steel. I’d like to say that despite all this the Stelvio copes very well with badly maintained urban roads. But it doesn’t. It rides like a racer.

Which is what it is. It has a carbon-fibre prop shaft, and most of the time all the power is fed to the rear wheels. Alfa says when they lose grip, power is sent immediately to the front, but as I exited one roundabout on full opposite lock, I can testify to the fact that Alfa’s idea of “immediately” and mine are a bit different. A friend of mine actually bought one of these cars last month and texted me after a few days to say: “This thing is mad.” He’s right. It is. Hilariously, mind-bogglingly insane. Imagine a harbour tug with three Lamborghini V12s. It’s that.

There are a lot of fast SUVs on offer now: there’s the Lamborghini Urus and the Jeep Grand Cherokee Trackhawk and the Audi SQ7, but nothing is quite as swivel-eyed as this Stelvio. And as a result it’s easily the most exciting SUV out there.

There are some issues, though. When you zoom the sat nav in to see individual streets, it goes into what I call “moron mode” and swivels round when you turn a corner. I hate that and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. And while the carbon-fibre seats are cool, the seatbelt buckles rattle against them all the time. You can’t even fit a towbar because of the complex exhaust system. Mind you, not being able to tow a caravan is probably a good thing.

This car, then, is exactly what you’d expect from Alfa Romeo. Its best brains fitted a truly magnificent engine, then the factory cleaning staff were left to make everything else. I love this sort of thing. I love Alfas because there are bits of them that don’t work. If you find this infuriating, I suggest you buy the Giulia Quadrifoglio saloon, because it’s far superior as an actual car. But you don’t want a saloon. You want an SUV, because you are a sheep. So go on, buy an Audi Q5 instead. Be a dullard. See if I care.

Alfa Romeo Stelvio Quadrifoglio

Engine: 2.9-litre turbo-petrol V6 (378kW/600Nm).

Average fuel: 10.2 litres per 100km.

Transmission: Eight-speed automatic, all-wheel drive.

Price: $149,900.

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars