We love complaining in the UK. They don’t make them like they used to. It’s the standard mantra. Youth are disrespected. The old ways were superior. Always.
The car crowd agrees mostly. Old machines are engaging. No screens. No sensors. Just you and the road.
But here’s the secret nobody admits aloud. Most old British cars were garbage. Especially the British ones. Rusty. Leaky. A constant fight against gravity. Which is exactly why companies like Twisted exist. They fix the soul. Or at least, the suspension.
Photo by: Twisted
Twisted sits in Thirsk. Founder Charles Fawcett started it around the millennium as a side hustle selling parts for Land Rovers. It grew fast. Too fast maybe. He stopped just selling bits and started building idealized Defenders.
They laser-scanned panels for perfect gaps. Fixed the steering, which was usually awful. Added sound deadening that didn’t smell like wet dog. Decent stereo. Suspension that didn’t sink into the earth. Even a V8 if you begged. Their Defenders set the bar high. Fans loved them.
But the classic Rover was still just… British. Until now. Twisted turned its eyes to the Range Rover Classic. Not the Defender. The proper SUV. Fawcett says this approach is suitably Twisted. Meaning slightly unhinged.
Photo by: Twisted
British Body, American Heart
Currently only one prototype exists. Bahama Gold. Loud. Aggressive. Fawcett walks around it pointing at flaws he hates in the original. Panel gaps meant for mass production lines look sloppy now. He smoothed them. All of it.
The color is a tribute. His dad owned a Range like this. Constantly tweaked. Constantly driven. Holds a spot in his heart. Now he owns a piece of that nostalgia.
Expect the Twisted treatment. Quiet where needed. Loud where desired. Panels lined up to within a millimeter. The goal? To drive it. Actually drive it.
No CarPlay screens here. Nothing to distract from the engine.
That’s a Chevy LT1 6.2 liter V8. Breathed on by Twisted. Outputs roughly 500 horsepower. Roughly does the work here. It’s mated to a GM 8-speed auto. Also tweaked by Twisted. Your left leg atrophies. It is glorious.
Starting the car is an event. You turn the key and it barks. A Chevy V8 noise echoing in a British shell. It feels naughty. Burble. Bark. Warmth spreads through the cabin. Purists will roll their eyes. They will complain about authenticity.
sod them.
It moves off smooth. Gears shift gently. You feel the shifts though. Good. Twisted didn’t turn it into a lounge chair on wheels. They made a driver’s car. Commute in it if you must. Burn rubber if you have the £350,00 ($477,00) spare cash.
There are no drive modes to numb you. No artificial aids smothering sensation. Sport mode is just your right ankle. ABS is the limit of the tires. It’s analog in a digital world. That’s the point.
Designed To Corner
Classic Range suspension is… soft. Too soft. Corner fast and you worry the door handles will touch asphalt.
Not here.
Some body roll exists. Sure. You’re not cornering flat like a Ferrari. But you don’t fall over. Front springs are a bit stiff right now. On the to-do list. But when you stomp the throttle, the car squats. Just enough to tell you the weight is transferring. Not so much that the hatch blows off.
Steering is progressive. Smooth. You feel what’s under those front tires. You can actually take corners without apologizing to the road.
Is it fast? Obviously. That V8 doesn’t lie. The speedometer needle climbs too quick for comfort. You start checking for speed cameras instinctively. The exhaust is a new set of angry pipes. Metallic howl. Brakes match the pace. Thank god.
Photo by: Twisted
Properly Bonkers
Beating the shit out of it is fun. It defies expectation. A Range Rover shouldn’t do this. Yet it does. And you can still live in it. Usability isn’t sacrificed. It burbles through town. Sits quietly on the motorway.
It’s still a Range. You can pile friends inside. They won’t hate you. The ride isn’t harsh. Just competent. Competent in a way classic Rovers rarely were.
This is new for Twisted. A leap from Defenders to Classics. Scary territory maybe. Don’t be scared.
Decades of know-how are in this machine. It toes the line between performance and retro luxury perfectly. The prototype is fun. The final product will be dangerous.
Will anyone buy it? Probably. That’s how this ends.
