Alpine’s A110R doesn’t try to outgun the big names; it sidesteps them. Where many rivals chase numbers and Nürburgring bravado, this is a car built on feel. It’s lighter, simpler and more single-minded than the standard A110, and all the better for it.
You sense the difference within the first few metres. The A110R reacts without delay, flowing with your inputs rather than processing them. Steering is light yet communicative, throttle response is crisp, and there’s no torque-vectoring theatre or synthesised sound to flatter the driver. It just gets on with the job, cleanly and honestly, and rewards smoothness more than swagger.
Alpine achieved that clarity the old-fashioned way: by removing mass. The R doubles down on the A110’s ethos with carbon-fibre wheels, carbon seats, a carbon bonnet and even a carbon rear window. Kerb weight lands a touch over 1,000kg, nearly 300kg less than a Porsche 718 GT4 RS. Power remains at 300bhp from the 1.8-litre turbo four, but the weight loss transforms the experience. It’s alive at any speed, not merely when you’re deep into three figures.
The result is a car that speaks in high definition. Front-end bite is eager, the rear is alert but predictable, and the whole chassis feels keyed into the road surface. You don’t need a circuit to enjoy it; a run to the bakery can feel like a mini special stage. It’s that rare modern sports car where less really does feel like more. It isn’t flawless, and that’s part of its charm. The driving position is idiosyncratic, visibility can is tricky, and the infotainment is a generation behind, but still host Apple CarPlay. The cabin is awash with exposed carbon, which underscores the focus but won’t suit every taste. None of it matters once you’re rolling, because the A110R’s dialogue drowns out the distractions.
Crucially, Alpine hasn’t tried to turn the A110R into a Porsche rival. It’s not playing the horsepower game or chasing headline lap times. It’s about weight, balance and simplicity – values that have been quietly squeezed in an era of configurable dampers and ever-bigger tyres. If you arrive expecting GT-department polish, you’ll miss the point; lean in and you’ll find something rarer: individuality.
There’s also a sense of occasion here that goes beyond speed. The A110R makes everyday miles feel special without resorting to artificial drama. It’s quick, of course, but its magic lies in how it connects you to the surface, how it rewards tidy inputs, and how it turns modest pace into real engagement.
That matters because cars like this are becoming scarce. Alpine heads towards an electric future, and focused, featherweight specials are unlikely to be part of it. The A110R feels like a swansong to an approach built on restraint and feedback. It may not dominate a spec sheet, but it nails the brief that counts: making the driver feel part of the machine.
Verdict? The A110R is the most compelling expression of the Alpine idea. It trades excess for elegance, polish for poise, and proves that lightness still wins hearts. In a market obsessed with metrics and statistics, this is the car that reminds you why you fell in love with driving in the first place.
