The Landrovers Panterra: an electric Defender that probably shouldn’t work, but does

Another rebuilt Defender. Or is it?

Let’s get this out of the way early.

Yes, it’s another old Defender that’s been stripped, rebuilt and sold for serious money.Yes, it costs a completely unreasonable amount of money.And yes, at first glance it looks like the sort of thing that exists mainly so people can argue about it online.

But this one’s awkwardly hard to dismiss.

Most buyers don’t choose this one

Most Landrovers customers don’t buy this version. About three-quarters of them go straight for petrol power. Big American V8s, lots of noise, lots of drama and a sense that subtlety was never invited to the meeting. That makes sense. A classic Defender suits excess. It’s a brick with windows.

The Panterra is the odd one out. It’s electric. Fully electric. And not in the ‘we found some batteries and made it fit’ way.

What’s actually changed underneath

The company has essentially rebuilt the entire underside of the car. New suspension mounting points, fully independent suspension all round and an in-wheel motor at each corner. That means torque can be shuffled about constantly, rather than just flung vaguely forwards or backwards and hoped for the best.

You can have air suspension or coilovers. Steering is electric and much quicker than anything ever fitted to an old Defender. And then there are the numbers, which feel faintly ridiculous when you remember what shape the car is.

About 600bhp. A claimed 4,720lb ft of torque. Five-and-a-half seconds to 62mph. And a weight somewhere around 2.9 tonnes, because it’s carrying a 200kWh battery that’s been stuffed into every available gap like an expensive game of Tetris.

Range, weight and the awkward questions

That battery gives a claimed 375 miles of range. Which isn’t about environmental smugness. It’s about not having to explain yourself when you tell people what you drove here in.

Despite all that weight, it doesn’t feel like a disaster. The balance is close to 50:50, so it doesn’t constantly threaten to headbutt hedgerows. You’re always aware you’re driving something large and heavy, but it behaves itself if you treat it with a bit of respect. That shouldn’t really be notable, but here we are.

What it’s like to drive

Around town, especially on air suspension, it’s oddly civil. The steering is calmer and more accurate than the petrol cars, and it doesn’t fight you at low speeds.

The throttle is the real surprise. It’s smooth, progressive and easy to judge, which makes the Panterra far less stressful than its power figures suggest.

It also means it should be very good off-road. Electric drivetrains often are. There’s none of the snatching or lunging you sometimes get with high-output EVs.

Regenerative braking has three levels, though you’ll need to poke the touchscreen to change them, which feels very modern for something that still has flat sides and door hinges you can see.

Software, screens and modern bits

That touchscreen runs software developed by The Landrovers itself. In fact, almost everything here is in-house apart from the gear selector nicked from a modern Defender. The system is quick, clear and mercifully free of clever tricks. It just works. Which sounds minor, but it isn’t.

Would you change anything?

Possibly. The accuracy of the drivetrain sometimes tempts you to drive it harder than the comfort-focused setup really wants. Coilovers and more road-biased tyres might let the torque vectoring show off a bit more. Or it might just make it feel pointlessly firm. Hard to say without trying it.

Money, obviously

Price is where reality bites. The electric setup adds €100,000, taking the starting point to just under half a million euros, or about £425,000. Which is mad. But also sort of the point. The company builds 28 cars a year, each taking roughly 3,000 hours. This isn’t an experiment or a side project. This is the product.

Inside the thing

Inside, it’s nicely done without shouting about it. Plastic trim is replaced with machined aluminium, but in a way that still lets you replace parts from standard Land Rover shelves if you’re somewhere inconvenient. The seats free up a bit more legroom than usual, though your elbows still know you’re in a Defender.

Why it matters

The Panterra matters because it feels like more than just another rebuilt classic. There’s clearly something bigger sitting underneath all this, and it’s not really about this car at all.

Which is mildly annoying, because it means this isn’t something you can just laugh at and move on from.

You kind of have to take it seriously.

Even if you don’t want to.