Type R-ism has long been vacant in the American car world. Used but once before, on the holy Acura Integra Type R (sold as a Honda in Europe and Asia), Honda has reserved its sharpest tools for other markets. But that stops now: the new Civic Type R is the very first Honda to wear the R badge in America, and it’s here to fight its bigger and more established competitors. There’s no mistaking how and where on the grand automotive scale the new Civic Type R is placed, even for the casual layperson. With a prominent splitter, wing, roof spoiler, air-channeling lumps and vents, and the curious three exhaust tips, it’s replete with boy-racer visuals.

But this boy arrives with the right tools. Tucked under the cornucopia of aero and design appendages sit some drop-dead serious bits of hardware that check all the boxes. But there’s a far more elusive and important box that this car manages to check—one of mechanical harmony.

Home, home on the track

Yes, the turbocharged 2.0L inline-four engine belts out 306bhp (228kW) at a tame-for-VTEC 6,500rpm and 295lb-ft (400Nm) of torque at a fantastically usable 2,500rpm. Honda does not quote performance figures, nor did we put a clock on it, but the Type R will surely reach 60mph (96.5km/h) in well under five seconds.

Honda also set a record lap time for a front-wheel drive car around Germany’s 12.9-mile Nürburgring Nordschleife of 7 minutes, 43.8 seconds. I didn’t get to take it through the Green Hell, but I did go dancing around with the Type R at the Bob Bondurant Racing School’s circuit at Wild Horse Pass Raceway in Chandler, Arizona. At the end of that session, I wasn’t sure if I was Fred Astaire or Ginger Rogers, but I didn’t care. The car’s moves—especially for a front-driver—were intoxicating.

I can also confirm that yes, the six-speed manual has the familial snicky positivity of the great Hondas of yore, plus electronic rev-matching for the youngins who have never had to learn how to blip their own throttles by heel-and-toe downshifting. Yes, the helical limited-slip differential puts the power down without wasteful wheelspin. Yes, the steering feel; yes, the Herculean brakes; yes, the huggy seats; yes, the cornering grip; oh, and yes, even the $35,000 price.

Underneath, it’s not your average Civic

Because getting great power from engines seems easier today than even in the halcyon, unregulated, emissions-soaked days of the 1960s, let’s start with something harder: the Type R’s chassis. A dual-axis front suspension is made up of struts with steering knuckles that alter steering geometry, which also limits the effect of torque steer.

Pair these with spring and damping rates jacked up to about twice that of the normal Civic, along with 20-inch wheels and 30-section (30!) tires (235/30R20 to be specific) and you’d think the Type R becomes a device to shake tooth fillings loose, right? Not so much. In fact, everyday ride quality is entirely livable. The Type R turns in with lightning response, with the variable-ratio steering quickening in ratio as you dial in more steering angle. Sure, with the adjustable dampers set for Comfort, you won’t exactly mistake it for a 1964 Chrysler Imperial, but it’s also far from a Conestoga wagon.

But that’s not all. When you add all that kinematic suspension witchcraft to the standard helical limited-slip differential, the Type R’s chassis hooks all the overachieving power of the engine up to the road. There’s shockingly little understeer exiting corners, even with deliberate over-aggression. The four-piston, 13.8-inch Brembo front brakes have genuine brake ducts bringing cooling air to them under strenuous driving. (The rear brakes are similarly hefty at 12.0-inches.) All tallied, the chassis and suspension is damn-near ruffle-free, and those cats back at Honda responsible for all this should get fat raises.

In fact, the only disappointment in the Type R’s drivetrain is aural. Where the old magic VTEC Hondas spun to 8,000—or even 9,000 (in the initial-series S2000 roadster)—and made musical mayhem in the process, the new Type R is an orchestral shadow, comparatively.

Inside, unique Type R seats in red and black pour on the bolstering, but they’re also darn comfortable. In the “+R” driving mode, the car also fires up some active rev-matching if you’re less-inclined or unschooled in heel-and-toe throttle blipping.

It’s all just a tiny bit tragic, though. If the exterior design were a bit more palatable to a larger audience brought up on GTIs and Michael Schumacher, the Type R would make a convincing sales theft threat to the Golf R, Ford Focus RS, and even some affordable two-door sports cars, which it would completely outpace in each performance category, including acceleration, grip, braking, and lap times.

But when you step outside the Type R, there’s no denying it looks fussy. The front splitter, the hood scoop, the fender vents, the aero vanes up on the roof (that actually channel air over the wing), the winglets, the triple-tip exhaust, and the red pinstriped wheels make the Type R seem like a life-sized shout for help. To boy-racers, though, the Type R will rule the streets, at least for those in import-land who prowl them. But admittedly, that’s judging the book by its cover.

Taken as a whole, Honda’s Civic Type R is a giant middle finger to the unobtainable Ferraris and Lamborghinis of the world. It proves that a real thoroughbred need not only come from exotic Italian genes.

https://arstechnica.com/?p=1247345