Bugatti wowed crowds at this year's Pebble Beach Concours d'Elegance when it unveiled the Centodieci. Based on the Chiron, it's meant as a tribute to the EB110, the oft-overlooked yet unforgettably styled supercar that's among the fastest
of the Radwood era. With the Centodieci, Molsheim had to accomplish two
things. First, make it a worthwhile business endeavor. Given that all
10 of the limited-run hypercar are sold at some $9 million each, that's a
clear success. Second, it needed to make the Centodieci a worthy homage
to the EB110. Here, in rare form, Bugatti may have faltered.
While the Centodieci is undeniably cool, its design is polarizing to say the least. Let's examine Bugatti's latest creation in detail.
First, the front. As a clear tie-in to the original, the brand's signature horseshoe grille is very small, much more so than other modern Bugattis. It's flanked by horizontal grille openings as a nod to the EB110's fascia. Ahead of the front fenders are curved scoops which make the car look like it's puffing up its cheeks. Headlights are sleek LED strips, so narrow that we wonder what kind of output and beam pattern they produce. Those lend the Centodieci a slit-eyed look only a multi-millionaire could love.
First, the front. As a clear tie-in to the original, the brand's signature horseshoe grille is very small, much more so than other modern Bugattis. It's flanked by horizontal grille openings as a nod to the EB110's fascia. Ahead of the front fenders are curved scoops which make the car look like it's puffing up its cheeks. Headlights are sleek LED strips, so narrow that we wonder what kind of output and beam pattern they produce. Those lend the Centodieci a slit-eyed look only a multi-millionaire could love.
The Centodieci's profile design is, like the EB110 and other
mid-engine vehicles, largely dictated by vents and ducts needed to
supply air to the powertrain. Most noticeable—and controversial—among
those is the "cheese grater" aperture behind the greenhouse. This is a
distinct cue from the EB110, which wears the same funky feature. In one
sense it solidifies the link between the two; in another it looks tacked
on and dissociative with other attempts to modernize the design.
The
same can be said for the brutalist character line rising across the
doors—another reference to the edgy haute-'90s EB110, but poorly
integrated with the rounded sculpting seen in other angles. Wheels, like
the headlights, seem conceptual, although a $9 million ask expands the
viability of such fanciful decoration. Blacked-out A-pillars give the
greenhouse a visor-like visage, but these days it's an indistinctive touch.
Moving to the rear, the car ends abruptly, although that's similar to the Chiron and Divo. Here, though, that's exacerbated by the fixed spoiler, which, while a clear parallel to the EB110, adds visual height to the blocky back end. The chandelier-like taillight nicely evokes the dotty rectangular openings between the rear lenses of the EB110, while coming in step with the wide light element on the Chiron. Meshes below clearly aid airflow, but louvered vents above seem like a hackneyed throwback attempt. Covering the engine with a glass panel is a break from other modern Bugattis, which proudly display the W-16's top to open air. We think the double-barrel stacked dual tailpipes are the coolest detail of the Centodieci.
Let us be clear: The Centodieci is cool. Anything so extremely
powerful and performant is bound to be, and on looks alone the car will
drop jaws. But Bugatti designs have to stand the test of time—the
brand's vehicles are of such rarified air that it must carefully
consider the legacy each will leave. After all, today's Pebble Beach
is bejeweled by Bugattis of decades past; the same will be true of
contemporary Bugattis in Concours decades to come. We think the Chiron
and its other variants will be celebrated at such events in the future.
The Centodieci? Time will tell.