2023 Maserati MC20 Cielo Review: A Convertible That Does What No Other Can

The MC20 originally debuted in coupe form only, with a 621-horsepower twin-turbocharged 3.0-liter V6 slung low in a lean carbon-fiber monocoque. The resulting combination of stunning good looks and raucous boosty turbo whooshes revive a lost sense of magic amid the current crop of anesthetized supercars that can sometimes seem to drive themselves. And I can prove as much with science, too, since I wear a Whoop strap that monitors my heartrate and will often ask whether I've completed an activity such as a bike ride, a long hike, or even wrenching on one of my cars.

Track time will also usually raise my heartrate enough to prompt the Whoop app to ask a series of questions about my recent activities. But no car ever managed to do so on public roads until my first time driving an MC20. Then it happened again, when I road-tripped a different MC20 to Joshua Tree a few months later. And once more a few months after that while driving an early Cielo briefly in the Italian countryside—so perhaps I should have expected as much my first morning out in Malibu driving this production Cielo loaner.

It sounds silly, I am aware. But why, out of all the sports cars, off-roading four-wheelers, and supercars I drive, does the MC20 get my heart all aflutter? Other than the lithe, supermodel good looks, that is... Well, I suspect that Maserati somehow tapped into the hardcore, gnarly, almost intimidating nature that made supercars in the mid-2000s such a phenomenon, as opposed to the refined characteristics that other manufacturers seem to prioritize these days. And make no mistake, pushing anywhere near the limit in the MC20—either the coupe or spyder—will undoubtedly bring on the kinds of sketchy moments that bring smiles to the faces of automotive enthusiasts the world over.

With the goal of combating potentially disconcerting chassis flex given the MC20's power output and handling capabilities, Maserati distributed carbon-fiber layers differently throughout the Cielo's monocoque to enhance torsional rigidity. The stiffer structure and added weight of the roof then prompted the use of firmer rear springs (5-7% beefier, Maserati tells me). 

But a tighter chassis and stiffer springs run counter to the ethos of top-down cruising, so when compared to the MC20 coupe, the Cielo runs the dampers softer with GT mode selected—as well as revising the locking percentage and torque distribution for the electronically controlled rear differential, to create less reactive behavior under load.

The engineering updates manifest immediately in the real world, as the Cielo's compliant comfort in town gives way to communicative confidence in the canyons. Rough roads reverberate much less through the body and cockpit, as compared to the coupe, with speed bumps and expansion joints no longer creating jarring bumps or bangs. For something so low and light, the Cielo transforms the (often uncomfortable) supercar driving experience into serene pleasure—and that's before dropping the roof for real convertible fun.

The Cielo's retracting hardtop must reduce storage space, right? Guess again: The rear trunk for both coupe and spyder still measures in at 100 liters of volume (3.5 cubic feet). That's small, without a doubt, and certainly not wide enough for golf clubs. And I can't recommend storing groceries in the rear trunk either, since heat from the Nettuno engine will just about toast bread on a long enough drive. The MC20's frunk also remains unchanged (read: borderline unusable), reducing any actual storage space to only the passenger seat and footwell.

But the main meaningful sacrifice that the Cielo demands only hit me when I stopped for a photoshoot at the top of Saddle Peak between Malibu and Topanga: Namely, the roof and clamshell cover now prevented me from snapping pics of, or even looking at, the engine bay. Otherwise, wind noise with the top down also drowns out the otherwise spectacular Sonus Faber sound system, which tries to compensate by automatically adjusting equalization if the roof is open or closed. But even while commuting around town, I only wanted to listen to the MC20's engine soundtrack anyway.

Switching over to Sport or Corsa mode via a dial on the center console prompts a bit more exhaust rumble, but more serious changes to turbo boost, pedal sensitivity, gear shift settings, suspension, and traction control intervention. That dial itself is also new, with a touchscreen center that allows for the selection of damper settings with a swipe of the finger—the coupe only offered two suspension firmness settings, both of which feel tauter than Soft and Mid in the Cielo. Sport and Corsa allow for Mid and Firm shocks, while a button on the steering wheel activates Launch Control in Corsa mode only.

Even canyon carving in the softest GT mode, the Cielo handles better than just about the best sports cars on the market—think Porsche Cayman GTS 4.0 or Lotus Emira. At the bottom of Las Flores in Malibu, pebbles flicking up into the carbon chassis echo akin to an F1 racecar in the pits as a constant reminder of that capability. But switching over to Sport or Corsa and setting the dampers to Firm unleashes the MC20 coupe's original raw edge, reintroducing that hint of twitchiness under hard acceleration, cornering, or braking that sets my heartrate thumping. 

Then, when I mash the throttle purposefully through a patch of running water left over from this past winter's atmospheric river storms, the rear wheels slip out into an easily controlled 30-foot drift. Not that the water is required, though, just Maserati's old-school traction control allowing quick slides that take a momentary flick of countersteer to correct. A punch of throttle out of any tight turn coaxes the 305-millimeter Bridgestone Potenza Sport rear tires into stepping out with ease, chirping in protest, and skirting into oversteer with aplomb.

Part of why the MC20 makes my Whoop strap ask whether I've exercised recently involves that traction control and ESC programming. The adrenaline-laden edge of sanity pushing such an expensive, exotic car hard demands that tech help, rather than hinder, the overall driving experience. Now go tell that to other supercar manufacturers, who need to cater to the lowest common denominator of buyers most likely to produce the highest number of damaging headlines and social media clips.

And plenty of the Cielo's tech undoubtedly enhances the overall experience, whether driving to the grocery store or hammering through canyons at ungodly (dubiously legal) pace. As opposed to the first years of the MC20 coupe, the Cielo now introduces Maserati's new suite of driver aids including a very helpful blind-spot monitoring system and a digital rearview mirror—two critical details in a low two-door with minimal visibility.

I also found myself wishing the key fob allowed me to retract the roof from outside the car, to sidestep the heat during this Southern California summer's first real series of nonstop scorchers. But otherwise, my time with the Cielo left me truly wondering whether any other supercars can beat such a unique combination of design, dynamics, and daily drivability. Of course, a few can undercut the price, since this specific Primaserie Launch Edition finished in an exclusive opalescent blue Acquamarina paint stickers for a borderline unbelievable $339,700.

That's par for the supercar course over a $261,200 base price, almost half of which comes courtesy of the Exterior Carbon Fiber Pack that runs for $39,000 alone. Now tack on the optional carbon-fiber wheels—which Maserati's PR team in their infinite wisdom decided not to risk a bunch of journalists curbing, but would have saved an additional 30 kilograms (66 pounds) of total unsprung weight and possibly improved the driving experience even more.

In the neighborhood of $300,000 and up, the Cielo undoubtedly faces stiff competition. The Lamborghini Huracán Tecnica I drove only a few weeks prior combines a rowdy V10 with angular styling and a few compromises for daily use at a similar price point. But here in LA, Huracáns around every corner blunt some of the appeal that Lambos used to inhabit. A McLaren 720S Spider starts at $326,500 and pumps 710 horsepower out of a twin-turbo V8, all in a svelte package that can probably lay down better lap times than any road-legal MC20. But even McLarens are now a dime a dozen at the Malibu Country Mart, whereas I have seen a grand total of two other MC20s—and zero Cielos—that I can recall other than my press loaners here in the past few years.