This first Lexus to be rolled out without a stated passenger-to-golf-bag quotient has been 10 years in gestation and has been overtaken by technology and events, writes Andrew English.

In June 2005 the engineering team dumped the LFA's aluminium structure for carbon-fibre. Since the 2007 appearance of the LF-A concept, the styling has dramatically changed and its whimsical details slashed away, and Nissan's GT-R has set up a fence round the market niche known as "wraparound-Japanese-supercar-in-white", while McLaren's cheaper MP4-12C carbon-fibre rocket-ship rival arrives in 2011.

Yet Toyota's Lexus division was backed into a corner. It had to produce something or it would lose face and the LFA is part limited-run damage-limitation strategy. Sales of this virtually unique car (only the aircon is shared with other Lexus models) will be limited to just 500. These will be sold through a website opening this week, which will be collecting deposits for deliveries starting in January 2011 at a price of around €580,000 in Ireland. Ouch.

"We were driven to build a world-class supercar," said Harukiko Tanahashi, the chief engineer, and though development resources were never restricted, he felt at times "we had negative winds against us".

The first impression of this long-awaited phenomenon is that it isn't dramatic enough. The nose is rounded off to the point of an idiot's grin and there's almost too much going on over the 14ft 9in long and 6ft 2.5in wide bodywork.

But if you don't like the view from here, there's always another one from over there. What do you mean the bonnet looks left open? Shuffle to one side and check out these crazy triple-buttressed front wings. And what about those triangular vents everywhere?

Under the skin the LFA is a pretty simple machine. Shove a 4.8-litre, dry-sumped V10 in the nose as far back and as low as you dare. Attack a torque tube and hang a six-speed transaxle and rear wheels off the other end. Then tell the engineers that everything else has to go as low down and centrally as possible; even the water and oil pumps are mounted at the bottom rear edge of the block.

There's plenty of unobtainium in there, too; titanium con rods and engine valves, Yamaha forged pistons, carbon-fibre cabin tub and body, aluminium-alloy subframes and suspension components and carbon ceramic brakes. Not that any of that helped much to cut a porky kerb weight of 1.5 tonnes.

Perhaps the cabin is partly at fault in that respect, although it is an unalloyed, if unintentional, triumph. The incredibly high scuttle gives the impression of driving through a letter box, but also of strength and security.

The instrument display is digital with a central analogue rev counter and digital speedometer that shifts from side to side to reveal ancillary displays for temperatures and the like underneath.

Someone's put a lot of love into the LFA and the cabin is delightful. Except for the steering wheel, that is, which combines red leather on a carbon-fibre squared-off rim with all the clammy tactile appeal of a cold sausage. Economy-sized leather bucket seats accommodate most sizes of adult, but there's scant storage space around the passengers and the tiny boot, accessed via a lifting rear screen, has room for one overnight bag -- and no golf clubs.

Press the starter and the 72-degree, twin-cam, short-stroke V10 bursts into a turbine-like life. Fixed position gearlever paddles are an easy fingertip reach and first engages with a clunk. The LFA feels heavy and unwilling to pull away at first and out on the road it feels edgy and unsettled. The throttle is oversensitive and it is easy to wobble your foot and end up squirting sideways.

The ride, although comfortable, is firm and you need to brace your body with your left foot to get a smooth throttle action.

That extraordinary engine is at the heart of the experience. Revving from idle to the red line at 9,000rpm in just 0.6 seconds, it has no modern tricks of turbocharger, radical cam profile or inlet and exhaust flaps to steepen its power delivery.

At the level of pub conversation, the big question is, of course, whether the Nissan GT-R would spank the LFA. To 100kph they'd clash wheels, but after that the LFA would leave the GT-R for dead. On a circuit the Nissan might scrabble to keep up with the LFA but its four-wheel drive would count against it, at least in the dry. But Lexus will counter that the LFA is not competing in that arena -- indeed, at €580,000, it can't.

Scary, weird, wildly expensive and without any discernable practicality or purpose, the LFA has transcended the Rubicon of super. It's sufficiently rare, expensive and downright bonkers to qualify as a bona fide supercar; if you are still doubting, then consider the fact that Lexus will lose money on each one.

Looks like job done then, Lexus.

Irish Independent