
A Ride on the Razor’s Edge: Czinger 21C VMax Review
For years, the automotive world has been abuzz with the whispers of Czinger, a company that promised to reshape the hypercar landscape with additive manufacturing. We finally got our chance to experience the fruit of their labor on a three-day road rally featuring theCzinger 21C VMax. While the track performance is legendary, we were more interested in seeing what this futuristic machine is like for everyday use. Spoiler alert: it’s like nothing else on the road.
Factory Fresh: A Glimpse into the Future
To get a feel for the Czinger, we first had to visit the company’s headquarters in Southern California. It’s not just any factory; it’s a showcase of additive manufacturing at its finest. As we entered, we were greeted by CEO Lukas Czinger, who explained that the parent company, Divergent Technologies, supplies not only the automotive industry but also the Department of Defense.
We were given a tour of the massive 3D printers that produce the carbon fiber components for the cars. It’s a stunning sight to see lasers zapping powdered aluminum into automotive parts that look like bird bones. The technology reaches a level they call “Pareto optimal,” meaning any added or subtracted weight would detract from performance. This is essentially evolution on fast-forward, and it’s why nine other automotive OEMs use Divergent for their 3D-printed parts. Aston Martin, Bugatti, and McLaren are the only three who will admit it publicly, though we suspect even Ferrari’s F80 control arms are suspects.
Under the Carbon Fiber
Czinger builds two versions of the 21C. The standard model is a high-downforce, track monster, while the VMax is a wingless, long-tailed version designed for the road. We were fortunate enough to drive a silver VMax on the inaugural Velocity Tour, a 500-mile road rally through Central and Northern California.
The cabin feels less like a car and more like a jet fighter. There’s glass less than a foot away from both sides of your head, offering incredible visibility. Getting in and out of the car is a ridiculous process: you sit with your legs facing out on the massive sill, pull your knees up and spin on your butt as you tuck your feet into the footwell, then slide your head under the roof.
One reason the sills are so big is because they’re stuffed with batteries. The 21C VMax is a hybrid hypercar, and each sill contains 2.2 kWh of battery power, totaling 4.4 kWh. The car isn’t a plug-in hybrid; a motor powered by the mid-mounted V-8 engine keeps the pack charged. Those batteries can deliver 500 horsepower to the front axle, which has one motor per wheel. The gas engine is a Czinger-designed 2.9-liter twin-turbo V-8 that makes 750 horsepower on California’s 91-octane fuel. With 100-octane race fuel, the horsepower jumps to 850. Czinger also mentions the engine can run on ethanol for even more power, though they haven’t released the figures yet.
The gas engine powers the rear wheels through an Xtrac single-clutch automated semi-sequential gearbox. This is similar to the Xtrac seven-speed Pagani uses on the Utopia, but Czinger adds 3D-printed transmission cases and small 48-volt electric motors to smooth out low-speed shifts. It’s a remarkable improvement, as the twin-barrel actuators work perfectly at low speeds. Pulling into gas stations, restaurants, and hotel parking lots feels almost normal, and we commend Czinger for that.
Track Time
What never felt normal was the man sitting behind us for the entire day. As is typical with some big-dollar hypercars (like Bugatti and Pagani), Czinger had a pro driver, Evan Jacobs, in the car to ensure we didn’t drive the $2.5 million vehicle off a cliff. Thankfully, later that night, Jacobs assured the Czinger team that we were no threat to the car and could drive solo for the rest of the rally.
We stopped by Laguna Seca for some parade laps, but non-Czinger employees aren’t allowed to drive the VMax on racetracks, even at the slow pace of the rally participants. As we’ve learned the hard way, if you can’t drive, go for the ride. We scrambled into the bizarre rear seat, and the first thing to note is that if you have big calves or feet, the back-seat experience isn’t great. My XXL calves were literally wedged between the carbon fiber tub and the carbon fiber seat, and my feet didn’t fit well, either.
However, the visibility through the side glass is incredible. It reminded me of a stunt plane, and it was a novel way to experience riding around a track—something I’ve done more than 1,000 times. This was especially true when Jacobs and I convinced the Skip Barber Racing School staff to let him take the VMax for a couple of “6/10ths” hot laps.
The most impressive hot lap I’ve ever experienced was riding shotgun in an Aston Martin Valkyrie LMH race car, during which I could feel the blood pooling in my extremities under braking. The Czinger VMax is now second, and remember, Jacobs didn’t go full tilt. Even at something less than the limit and without the big-downforce rear wing, it was easy to understand how a Czinger 21C pulled off what the brand calls the California Gold Rush. That means it set five production car track records—at Thunder Hill, Sonoma Raceway, Laguna Seca, Willow Springs, and the Thermal Club—in five days and drove from each track to the next. Later on, Czinger returned to Laguna Seca to not only beat its own record but to reclaim the throne from a track-special Koenigsegg Jesko Sadair’s Spear. That lap time, a ridiculous 1 minute, 22.30 seconds, is quicker than the fastest MotoAmerica Superbike lap ever recorded at Laguna, a 1:22.56.
Czinger claims a vehicle weight of approximately 3,600 pounds, which is pretty light for a 1,250-hp hybrid. For context, the Ferrari SF90 Stradale Assetto Fiorano—the highest-performance version of a three-motor twin-turbo V-8 PHEV that only makes 986 hp—weighs 3,839 pounds. The new Lamborghini Temerario is another three-motor, twin-turbo V-8 (that again makes less power, but you get the comparison) that pushes past the two-ton mark, coming in at 4,185 chunky pounds.
Now’s a good time to mention that the SF90 and Temerario are the two quickest-accelerating gasoline-powered cars MotorTrend has ever tested (the Ferrari for 0–60 mph and the Lambo for the quarter mile). If Czinger’s weight claim holds true, the unorthodox California startup has managed to beat two Italian legends with job one. That’s remarkable on its own but especially noteworthy considering that while Southern California is known for many things, there isn’t a huge pool of supercar building expertise to draw from. In other words, L.A. isn’t exactly Modena.
On the Road
The route chosen for the rally consisted mostly of true back roads. Tight, winding, lousy, weather-beaten pavement—not the type of asphalt hypercar dream trips are made of. Plus, there was a lot of following the pack, navigating to lunch and coffee stops, and hanging with the camera car. I was perhaps a bit disappointed at the time, but in retrospect what I got out of the experience is something akin to what most owners will experience while living with a Czinger.
To my surprise, the VMax was mostly like driving any other hyper-exotic. Take everything out of your pockets as the seats are tight, drink your water before you get in as there aren’t any cupholders, and numb yourself to the fact that almost everyone else on the road, especially males between the ages of 16 and 24, will be looking at you, following you, waving at you, and revving at you, all while (probably) screaming friendly obscenities. Regardless, the Czinger rides much better than I figured it would; the team deserves applause for not making it overly stiff. Even the air conditioning works well.
If I have any complaint about the “just driving around doing normal stuff” aspect of the VMax, it’s simply how loud the cabin is. I’m not talking about the sound of the unique V-8, but rather there seems to be a complete lack of sound deadening. That’s great on a dedicated track car like the other version of the 21C but an annoying oversight on a road car like the VMax. It becomes especially apparent when you’re inside the car for hours at a time. Yes, weight is the enemy of performance, but really, how much does sound-deadening foam weigh? Twenty pounds? Twenty-five? Google AI says between 10 and 50 pounds. How about just 10 pounds of the stuff, then? It would be a big improvement overall.
Get to the Good Part
We finally came upon some proper California canyon roads, and I got to fully open up the Czinger