But just as I know there are good Countachs and bad ones too (and the tired LP5000 I drove was undoubtedly in the latter category), I can tell you from personal experience the same applies to the Diablo. And as a basic rule of thumb, avoid the four-wheel-drive models, and avoid them even more if they are roadsters, and not just because I threw one off a road trying to do a dramatic handling shot, drove through a field and out the other side without doing it any damage at all – the only time I’ve ever been grateful to be in a Diablo with all-wheel-drive hardware.
However there were two that were just fine. The first was the 1995 SV, which despite being more powerful than a standard Diablo was stripped out and priced as the entry level model and given shorter gearing. So it was quicker, better to drive, looked amazing and cost less too. It was brilliant.
But the best, at least of those I drove, was the SE30, a super lightweight, limited edition Diablo, even more powerful and full of trick materials to keep the weight down. Finally this was the Diablo I’d hoped for all along. It was a real brute, genuinely challenging to drive fast, but properly tied down, endlessly rewarding and, you felt, ultimately on your side. And I never felt that about any all-wheel drive Diablo I drove.
The Diablo lasted 11 years in production before being replaced by the Murcielago, which still has some Diablo in its architecture, but which had been developed with Audi money and was exceptionally engineered as a result. And good though those couple of Diablos, none could hold a candle to the Murcielago, which may even today be my favourite Lamborghini of all.