7.5/10: BMW M760i (2017-2022). When they start playing you off, but you have more to say so you start yelling.
Every now and then, a car comes along that makes you ask “why?” so many times that the question collapses in on itself, forming a singularity where logic simply ceases to operate. Enter the BMW M760i, a sedan that scoffs at fiscal restraint, ecological doom, and any pretense of good sense. For the 35 uninterrupted years from 1987 to 2022, BMW was not always the king of the V12 sedan game, but it was always there, building driver’s cars while its rivals quietly slipped away. Mercedes packed away their V12 in 2019, relegating it to Maybach duty for the idle rich who do not have driver’s licenses. Jaguar, the pioneering spirit behind the modern V12 sedan, exited the segment at the end of the 20th century and disappeared from the car market entirely in 2025. When the party was over, BMW was left behind to lock up. Instead, it set off fireworks in the empty hall just to see if anyone was watching.
Beneath the hood sits the N74B66TU, a 6.6-liter twin-turbocharged V12, shared with the first two generations of the Rolls-Royce Ghost but pressed into service here with a bit more Bavarian swagger. Tuned to 601 horsepower, nearly fifteen percent more than its already-ridiculous predecessor, the F02 760Li, the M760i could launch its two and a half tons from zero to sixty in just 3.4 seconds. This is the kind of performance that, not so long ago, was reserved for hypercars, now delivered in several layers of soundproofing and leather. Mercedes’ own V12 sendoff, the S65 AMG Final Edition, brought 621 horsepower and 738 lb-ft of torque to the fight, but lacking the BMW’s all-wheel drive, needed 4.1 seconds to do the same trick.
The absurdity continues once the acceleration-induced giggles subside. BMW, not content with mere opulence, decided the back seat should be a plausible setting for a minor royal scandal. The optional four-seat Executive Lounge came with a full-length center console, a detachable tablet whose only function is to serve as redundant controls for the rear seats and sunshades, and so many buttons you could land a 747 from the rear armrest. Forget “new car smell.” BMW offered a cabin fragrance dispenser diffusing exclusive aromas like “Golden Suite No. 2,” a name that sounds like either an AI hallucination or a lost Bond film. As for the panoramic moonroof, it does not just open to the sky. BMW recreated it with fiber-optic stars embedded directly into the glass, making every night drive an occasion for private cosmology and subtly one-upping its own Rolls-Royce brand’s starlight headliner. For good measure, BMW threw in four-wheel steering, because if you are going to hurl 4,900 pounds of luxury through a roundabout, why not have the back end help?
It is not just that nobody asked for a car like this. BMW already offered the Alpina B7 for those who wanted a ballistic luxury limousine and the M5 for purists who needed a proper sports sedan. Every V12 sedan BMW had ever built was simply a luxury car, always fast and always a driver’s car, but never with real performance pretenses. For over a decade BMW watched the various AMG “65” models with twin turbo 600+ hp V12s and shrugged. No one, inside or outside Munich, was calling for a twelve-cylinder 7 Series with M branding. The logical move would have been to let the 760Li fade out quietly in one final generation as a pure luxury sedan, a discreet and whisper quiet finale for the faithful. Of course, BMW did not do the logical thing; it gave the last V12 sedan the most extravagant and unhinged send-off imaginable.
Why is the M760i this high up on the Absurdity Index? Because from 1987’s E32 750iL to this final, glorious exercise in excess, BMW built V12 sedans for drivers, not passengers, and kept doing it after the competition went into retirement. The M760i is not just the end of an era. It is, sadly, the punchline delivered after everyone else had left the room. Sometimes, the answer to “why?” is “to win.”