Lanzante unveils the 95-59, a three-seat supercar with 850bhp+ from a tweaked McLaren V8Only 59 will be built at £1.2m each, celebrating their 1995 Le Mans victory in McLaren F1 #59The carbon fiber body weighs just 1,250kg and features fighter jet-inspired aerodynamics There are moments in the automotive world when someone does something so brilliantly mad, so spectacularly bonkers, that you can't help but stand up and applaud. This is one of those moments. Lanzante, the British engineering house that's been quietly building automotive masterpieces while the rest of us were arguing about electric cars, has just revealed something rather special: the 95-59. This isn't just another supercar. Oh no, that would be far too ordinary for a company that once took a McLaren F1 to Le Mans victory in 1995. This is a celebration, a love letter, a middle finger to the idea that modern supercars can't capture the magic of the originals. With three seats, 850 horsepower, and a price tag that would make a lottery winner wince, the 95-59 is Lanzante's way of saying, "Remember when cars used to make you feel properly alive?" The name itself tells a story. In 1995, Lanzante campaigned McLaren F1 chassis #59 at Le Mans and won the whole bloody thing. Thirty years later, they're commemorating that victory with perhaps the most fitting tribute possible: a car that captures everything that made the original F1 special while adding three decades of engineering evolution. What makes this particularly delicious is that Lanzante has taken a "current McLaren platform" and completely re-engineered it. It's like taking a Stradivarius violin and asking a master craftsman to make it even better. The result is something that looks unmistakably McLaren but feels entirely unique. Lanzante 95-59 performance and engineering At the heart of this mechanical masterpiece sits McLaren's familiar 4.0-liter twin-turbo V8, but this isn't your garden-variety engine. Lanzante has worked their magic on it, extracting upwards of 850 horsepower and 650 lb-ft of torque. That's enough power to run a small town, all contained within a package that weighs just 1,250 kilograms. To put that in perspective, the 95-59 is lighter than most family hatchbacks but has more power than a Formula 1 car from the 1980s. The power-to-weight ratio is so extreme that it borders on the obscene. This isn't just fast; it's weapons-grade velocity wrapped in carbon fiber. The engine is mated to a seven-speed dual-clutch gearbox that sends all that fury to the rear wheels. No all-wheel drive system here—this is old-school, tail-happy performance that rewards skill and punishes overconfidence. It's the automotive equivalent of giving someone a sword and telling them to have fun. The body is entirely carbon fiber, styled by Paul Howse, the man responsible for the McLaren P1 and 720S. This isn't some pretty face designed by committee; this is the work of someone who understands that form should follow function, and function should be absolutely bonkers. The design features a "two-layered" approach, with lower surfaces managing aerodynamics and downforce while the upper surfaces are wrapped tightly for efficiency. The rear deck is particularly striking, featuring a massive diffuser and central exhaust that took inspiration from the F-22 fighter jet. Because apparently, when you're building a car this extreme, you need to look to military aviation for design cues. The result is something that looks like it could achieve flight if you hit the right speed. Lanzante 95-59 interior and exclusivity The interior is where the 95-59 really shows its McLaren F1 DNA. Three seats, with the driver positioned centrally and slightly forward of two passenger seats. It's like sitting in the cockpit of a very expensive, very fast spacecraft. The driver's seat is mounted low, with the steering column and wheel repositioned for optimal control. Glass roof panels flood the cabin with light, while functional switch packs have been relocated for easier entry and exit. Following the fighter jet theme, switches are mounted on the roof pod—because nothing says "serious performance car" like having controls above your head like a military aircraft. The attention to detail is extraordinary. The 'LM30' pack adds forged aluminum wheels, Inconel exhaust headers, titanium pipes, and gold-plated heat shielding that pays homage to the original F1. These aren't just aesthetic touches; they shed an additional 20 kilograms from an already featherweight package. But perhaps the most impressive aspect of the 95-59 is its exclusivity. Lanzante is building just 59 examples, each costing £1,020,000 plus tax—bringing the total to £1.2 million. That's serious money, but then again, this is a seriously special car. The exclusivity isn't just about the low production numbers; it's about what this car represents. In an era where supercars are becoming increasingly sanitized and electronic, the 95-59 is a throwback to when driving was about skill, courage, and the willingness to be properly terrified. It's for people who understand that the best cars don't just transport you—they transform you. Dean Lanzante described the original brief as creating "something accessible and useable, for drivers." The irony, of course, is that a £1.2 million supercar is about as accessible as a moon landing. But in the context of modern hypercars, where million-pound price tags are becoming commonplace, the 95-59 represents something refreshingly honest: a car built by enthusiasts for enthusiasts. This is more than just another limited-edition supercar. It's a statement that the golden age of motoring isn't over—it's just become more expensive. The 95-59 proves that with enough passion, engineering skill, and complete disregard for practicality, you can still create something that makes your heart race just by looking at it.
