Just when the hypercar world was getting comfortable—quietly swapping noise for screens and soul for software—the Apollo Evo has turned up like an uninvited guest and flipped the table.
Now confirmed for production, the Apollo Evo will be built in a run of just ten cars, each costing around £3 million and each designed with one very clear philosophy: driving comes first, convenience can wait outside.
Born from the ashes of the old Gumpert brand, Apollo has never been interested in playing the same game as everyone else. While most modern hypercars are drifting toward being extremely fast grand tourers—plush interiors, hybrid assistance, and enough tech to run a small country—the Evo goes in the opposite direction. It is loud, aggressive, unapologetic and gloriously analogue where it matters most.
At the heart of the Evo is a naturally aspirated 6.3-litre V12 built by Ferrari. No turbos. No electric motors. No hybrid complexity. Just 800 horsepower delivered the old-fashioned way, revving hard and sounding like it was designed to offend emissions committees worldwide. Power is sent through a six-speed sequential gearbox rather than a dual-clutch unit, because Apollo wants this to feel like a race car, not a rolling smartphone.
Weight is where things get especially interesting. At just 1,300kg, the Evo undercuts most modern hypercars by a serious margin. That low mass matters more than headline figures, although the numbers are still properly dramatic: 0–62mph in 2.7 seconds and a top speed of 208mph. But unlike many of its rivals, the Evo isn’t designed for one heroic launch and a long cooldown. This is a car built to be driven flat-out, lap after lap, without excuses.
The chassis and aero package underline that intent. Ceramic brakes come as standard, Michelin Pilot Sport Cup 2 R tyres are fitted by default, and the downforce figures are borderline absurd. At close to 200mph, the rear wing alone is claimed to generate more load than the car actually weighs. This is not styling theatre—it’s functional aggression.
Inside, the Evo is refreshingly honest. There’s air conditioning, proper displays and sensible ergonomics, because even the most hardcore track-day addict appreciates not needing a chiropractor after every session. Luxury takes a back seat to purpose, but usability hasn’t been forgotten.
In a world increasingly obsessed with electrification, autonomy and digital experiences, the Apollo Evo feels like a defiant middle finger—an 800hp reminder that some manufacturers still believe driving should be visceral, demanding and slightly terrifying.
And if you happen to have £3 million spare behind the sofa, it’s hard to think of a more entertaining way to spend it.