FEAR of the dark, nyctophobia, lygophobia; call it what you will, but it’s a common thread that has run through all of us at some time in our lives. As children, we experienced pulse-racing tension as the light went out at night, turning the familiar diurnal forms of our world into dark, menacing shadows harbouring our most primal fears. It’s a nebulous space in the mind where the nature of our foreboding seems to bear no palpable shape or reason until we grow to understand it and allow logic to banish these demons hovering at the periphery of the psyche.
There’s a definite parallel between this deep-seated fear and the subject of this road test, the Mercedes-Benz C63 AMG Coupé Black Series. The form and function of this hard-edged, snarling creature is indefinite, causing it to exude a hard-to-place air of menace. But is it right to be afraid of Mercedes’s darker side, or will a logical, measured approach help us to see the light?
We all know what Mercedes-AMG GmBh is all about; the Affalterbach-based subsidiary that takes workaday Mercs, shoehorns mightier motors into their engine bays, beefs up the chassis and brakes, and adds some more aggressive visual addenda to turn them into the firm’s motorsport-bred performance foils to the likes of BMW’s M division offerings and RS-badged Audis.
Black Series? That’s a little more difficult to understand. On the face of it, you have some provisos; only two-door models need apply, weight-adding extras are often binned, the already aggressive AMG body kit gets an extra shot of nandrolone, power output takes a hike northwards, the chassis setup is more rigid and the production run is kept to a collector- and profit-margin-friendly figure.
A gloss over the C63 AMG Coupé Black Series press kit will throw up the odd reference to DTM, F1 safety car and the like, and our test unit’s exclusivity is assured thanks to it being one of just 800 examples in the world. But its execution (and that of most other Black Series models) is otherwise difficult to discern from that of stock AMG offerings.
It has to be said that our test unit is a lot more subdued than most models wearing the Black Series label. There are definite hints of the potential menace on offer here; the body kit, and to some degree the lightweight 19-inch alloy wheels, give the car a “DTM-lite” feel that is further intimated by slivers of carbon-fibre on the sills and aggressive front splitter, rectangular exhaust tips, a vent-studded aluminium bonnet and gaping, honeycomb nacelles on the arrow-shaped nose and rear diffuser. But look at the car as a whole and it appears that the menace lurks below the beltline, while the rest of the car looks pretty much stock C63 AMG Coupé – a far cry from the likes of the CLK63 AMG Black Series, which was overtly studded with prominent gills, bulging wheel arches and downforce-inducing scaffolding on the bootlid. The C63 AMG Coupé BS can be had with a Track Package that adds said spoiler and active rear-axle transmission cooling, among other things, but here subtlety prevails.
Much the same can be said of the interior. Aside from well-bolstered sports seats, the option to dispense with the rear pews (our car had them in place and they could just about accommodate two adults), aluminium pedals, a set of somewhat Gordon Gekko-esque red seatbelts and the odd bit of labelling and trim, it’s no more daunting or less well built than the cabin of any C-Class Coupé. Nor does it exude any real sense of occasion or, for that matter, any menace.
The Black Series’s malevolence actually lies beneath its skin. Nestled in the engine bay is a modified version of the M156 naturally aspirated, 6,2-litre V8 found in a number of AMG models. In this application, it shares its forged pistons, con-rods and lightweight crankshaft with the SLS AMG. Throw in a remapped ECU and the Black Series’s powerplant trumps its lesser siblings’ already respectable 336 kW/600 N.m with outputs of 380 kW at a revvy 6 800 r/min and 620 N.m of torque at 5 200 r/min.
It’s through this powertrain’s AMG sports-exhaust system that the much-loved, bassy, V8 growl gains a harder edge as you engage the Race Start launch-control system and watch the revs climb to round the 3 500 r/min mark as a pall of heat haze emanates from the dragon’s nostrils that are the twin vents sunk into the aluminium bonnet. You grip that wonderfully tactile steering wheel with its flat apex and base, draw breath, lift off the brakes and find yourself in a space between wide-eyed terror and groaning despair as your attempt to best the claimed 4,2-second 0-100 km/h sprint dissolves in a cloud of tyre smoke and a shimmy from the car’s tail before setting off.
By returning to basics, holding the car on its anchors and then burying the accelerator, we gleaned a 4,23-second run without a hint of tyre scrabble or fuss. Odd, that…
There’s no shortage of impetus here; as the engine growlingly revs into its power band, it broaches 140 km/h from standstill in roughly the same time a hot hatch takes to hit 100 km/h and 22,26 seconds later it’s crossing the kilometre mark at more than 241 km/h.
But standard AMG models can play the snarling, muscle-bound dragster card with similar results; in fact; they can also acquit themselves as comfortable means of transit, something that cannot honestly be said of the Black. It’s suspended on a motorsport-inspired adjustable coil-over suspension setup comprising MacPherson struts up front and multilinks aft.
Round town, this arrangement is incredibly stiff but remains well damped. Even so, potholes will still thud through the cabin and regular ripples in the road will set the car wobbling at low speeds. But urban environs are lost on a car such as the Black; it’s on a racetrack or your favourite stretch of deserted B-road where its dark side comes to the fore.
Make no mistake; while it shares a great deal of its DNA with the powerful but relatively easy-to-control C-Class AMG Coupé, it doesn’t suffer fools gladly. There’s enormous front-end grip on offer to complement the power, but it takes a steady throttle foot and a calculating approach when tackling sharp bends. The rear differential is track-aggressive, locking up very early when you climb on the gas. The upshot of this is that, if you’re overzealous with the throttle mid-corner, there’s a good chance that the rear will overtake you shortly before the front rubber gives up the fight with the asphalt.
There is a three-stage ESP system to intervene when things get lairy, but it isn’t abruptly intrusive in its manner of paring back power to the rear wheels. Even with the system in its intermediate setting, the Black is unruly, making more than enough allowances for a great deal of rear-end pendulum action, so switching the thing off is purely the preserve of the eminently skilled or those with a great deal of testicular fortitude.
For all of its relatively luxurious trappings, the Black serves up a visceral driving experience. The V8 thunders just ahead of your toes, your innards ricochet off your ribcage with both the forward urge and the lateral Gs the front-end grip affords, not to mention the stopping power served up by the 360 mm brakes clamped by four- and six-pot callipers, fore and aft.
While the ride is communicative enough to tell you what the car is doing beneath you – heck, it’s almost sensitive enough to allow you to discern whether the road markings are in gloss paint or enamel – the same cannot be said of the steering. It’s accurate, nicely weighted and responsive, no doubt, but it just lacks the level of feedback that would complete the circuit in the driver-car connection and instantly inspire confidence.
You’d think that this amalgam of power and instability would be a terrifying thing and, if you’re foolhardy or blasé, you’d be right. But, while piloting the Black at speed is not for the faint-hearted, it’s not something to be feared outright. The first few times you overdo it when cornering, catch a slide, or barely remain on the macadam, you sit there with heart firmly in mouth and beads of sweat prickling your brow. Depending on the driver, this stage is purely flight-or-fight; some folk will toss aside the keys and walk away glad to be intact, while others will remain and accept the challenge. Work out its nuances, guess your attitude between the informative chassis and the less communicative steering, adjust your cornering ritual to slow-in-fast-out and as it begins to make sense it becomes strangely compelling – addictive, even.
Test Summary
It’s really down to the individual. The C63 AMG Coupé Black Series is one of those cars you’re either cautiously drawn to, or dismiss as unruly and compromised. Even when you’re certain that you’ve figured out its temperament, there’s still that tinge of unpredictability that keeps you on your toes. It gently goads the brave, persistent driver into mining the car’s depths in order to earn its respect before you can unlock its potential. If you’re talking brass tacks, it might not make sense; the C63 AMG Coupé is similarly fast, more liveable, generously equipped and half a bar cheaper. But, for those who seek the most challenging iteration of the AMG ethos, nothing short of moving to the dark side will do.