The other day, out for a walk, I passed a third-generation Volkswagen Golf parked beside the latest model, still on dealer plates. They shared the same name and manufacturer and had connecting styling cues. But they weren’t the same category of car, let alone the same model. The new model drives well and has great technology, but it’s significantly longer and wider than its older relative, which had a more manual driving experience. Sure, the added space is more practical, but a great many customers prefer the size and experience of the older car to the new one.

If you trust in the wisdom of the free market, this makes no sense. Customers want smaller, more manual cars, so why aren’t they getting them? But, of course, the market here isn’t free. As the years progressed, regulators have strangled car manufacturers with red tape, demanding compliance with ever stricter safety and emissions rules, making cars bigger, heavier, and more electronic.

Not only does this damage the driving dynamics for minimal benefits, the increased weight causes an engineering spiral. Larger, heavier cars cause more harm when they crash — to pedestrians and other vehicles — and so the safety mechanisms have to scale up in proportion; and as they scale up, the rest of the car has to as well, and you’re back to square one. The automotive obesity crisis was caused by a regulation-fat diet, not consumer choice, and — unless you spend roughly $3,000,000 for one of Gordon Murray’s ultra-light, manual supercars — it’s almost impossible to escape it.

But the demand remains — for new, well-made cars, with the petite, manual manner of older cars — and where there’s a demand, the market provides. And so, we get the rise of restomods, a niche industry where boutique manufacturers buy older cars, strip them down to the chassis, and reclad them in a new stylish body with new technology and great craftsmanship.

The best-known are Singer for Porsche 911s, Alfaholics for the Alfa Romeo GTA, Kimera for the Lancia Evo 37, Eagle for the Jaguar E-Type, and Eccentrica for the Lamborghini Diablo. These are all superb, but the restomod market is looking more and more like a bubble. Only so many people are shopping around for a $500,000 to $1,000,000 weekend toy, built by a small manufacturer; yet every day, a new company appears, asking for cheques.

And so, we have the Ælla-60 from “Art Machines by Anthony Jannarelly,” a new mid-engined supercar, likely built around the engine and chassis of the 1999 to 2005 Ferrari 260 Modera, reclad in a retro sportscar body. It’s a pretty thing, with the long swooping front fenders, simple headlights, and long tail reminiscent of 1960s race cars. Inside are brown-leather-clad carbon bucket seats, aluminum switchgear, and a manual gearbox with exposed switchgear — because, of course, all restomods have a version of this interior. The Ælla-60 is meant to weigh a dainty 2,491 pounds, will go 0 to 62 miles an hour in 3.5 seconds, and will start at roughly $900K, before taxes. That is, if Jannarelly secures five orders, which I doubt they will.

The fundamental appeal of the restomod market is that you can retain the low weight and manual driving feel of an older car, then update it with modern features and craftsman, and have it customized to your preferences. That works with Singer, for example, as they’ve been doing so for years, have an excellent reputation, and their work truly improves on the base car. Singers are the rare aftermarket cars that sell well above sticker on the second-hand market. But “Art Machines” is a new company trying to sell a far less compelling car that seems only to exist as a render.

More fundamentally, the price makes no sense. Looking on the auction site Cars and Bids, I found a 360 Modena in stunning Blue Tour de France, with the perfect wheels and a gorgeous brown interior, which sold for $63,500. That was an automatic model, but manual swaps are easy to come by now; such as this silver car, with under 20,000 miles on the clock, which sold in the low $80K range. Or, in other words, for a 10th of the price of the Jannarelly, despite fundamentally being the same car.

And if you want the restomod feeling, why wouldn’t you bring a Modena to a trustworthy shop and have it modernized and redesigned perfectly to your preferences? Doing so would cost far less than $900,000, so why pay for the Jannarelly? It’s a question without a compelling answer.

This isn’t even Jannarelly’s first time trying to make a retro sportscar. In 2019, Jannarelly Automotive — a different company by the same designer — released the Design-1, a retro-sportscar with incredibly similar looks to the Ælla-60, built on a custom tubular spaceframe chassis. It looked great, came in roadster, couple, or “Aero” versions, used a 3.5L Nissan V6, weighed less than 1,900 pounds, and had similar acceleration figures to the Ælla-60. Oh, and it cost almost a ninth of the price of the Ælla-60, at roughly $110,000.

So, what happened to Design 1? They made a few of them at least, which car reviewers tried, and said that — though it drove well — the build quality didn’t live up to the price, with the Top Gear review noting its loudness, the creaks and groans of the chassis when driving, and the lack of ride comfort. Today, not a single one seems to have been sold used on UK car marketplaces like Autotrader, suggesting very few were built. In 2023, the company was bought by new owners, but it’s otherwise been pretty silent.

Maybe Jannarelly will succeed in this higher bracket in the restomod space. But don’t be surprised if this is the only time you hear about this company.