It's been a long road for the current generation of Nissan's iconic GT-R. The latest edition, the R35, has been on the market for 17 years now, but its lineage goes back further. The first concept debuted in 2001, becoming an instant icon thanks to its inclusion in Gran Turismo a full five years before entering production.
This generation of Godzilla has been on the market longer than the span covered by the previous three generations combined, the R32, R33, and R34. But while it's easy to use that as an attack against the creaky bones of the R35, that staying power represents how substantial a shift it was. Those previous two generations before were all iterations, fresh mixes of the same basic tune. The R35 was a tidal change, one that not only elevated the global perception of Nissan but also predicted a radical shift in the performance car industry as a whole.
Ahead of the R35 finally being granted a well-deserved retirement from American shores, I made a pilgrimage to Japan for one final go behind the wheel of the R35 in its ultimate form, the GT-R Nismo. I also talked with the car's product specialist, Hiroshi Tamura, often known as "Mr. GT-R," to get his thoughts on that car's legacy.
As it turns out, he knew it would be something special back when it was just a twinkle in his eye.
A Fond Farewell
This year marks the 40th anniversary of Nismo, which stands for Nissan Motorsport, Nissan's ostensible racing division that, lately, has become a label applied to any model given a bit of sporty finesse and red eyeliner. In its home market, Nissan today applies the Nismo label to everything from the tiny Note Aura to the X-Trail SUV. Even the electric Ariya and Leaf have received the Nismo treatment.
But the GT-R Nismo is something different, something special, a model retooled from the already decidedly quick GT-R. Offering more power and torque, the Nismo flavor also comes with carbon-ceramic brakes, a carbon fiber hood, and a lengthy set of tweaks and modifications designed to make this big coupe as aggressive as possible.
Among Nissan's current lineup, this is Nismo at its most extreme implementation, a throwback to the many and varied racers that have worn the label over the years.
At this year's Nismo Festival, the Nismo logo—whether the original, funky version that looks like it has hand-cut block letters or the new, more sleek version—could be seen on the fenders of all manner of performance hardware. On one side of the Fuji pit complex sat the little Pulsar GTI-R, which waged an ill-fated WRC attempt in 1991. On the other end of the garage, a series of delightfully sleek, red, white, and blue Le Mans prototypes, most of which sadly fared little better in the world's greatest endurance race.
Nissan brought dozens of cars out of its historical collections for the event, running most of them in various exhibition sessions around Fuji Speedway to the delight of nearly 30,000 attendees. But the greatest delights were, for me, in the various parking lots scattered around the circuit.
There, it was easy to see the passion of the owners exhibited in the big wings, flared fenders, and giant exhausts that dotted the landscape. Vintage Skyline GT-Rs, whether they be early Hakosukas from the 1970s or R34s from the 1990s, dominated the various parking lots, seemingly all showing signs of significant tuning.
But for all the brutal power and prodigious grip those earlier Skyline GT-Rs became known for, the R35 would be a departure, adding on a layer of technology and sophistication that would not only radically improve the performance of the car but ultimately shape the entire industry.
'Trend Maker'
Before hitting the track in the R35 GT-R Nismo, I had a chance to chat with Hiroshi Tamura, the man known as "Mr. GT-R" in Nissan circles. Tamura, who has been with the company in some form or another since 1984, first became involved in the GT-R planning process back in the '90s. He was named chief product specialist after that, overseeing the development of the R35. Lately, he's gone on to take a role at Nissan that's somewhere between influencer and spiritual advisor.
From day one of development of the eventual R35, Tamura-san knew that what they were developing would be significant, even while the team was deciding what they should call the project internally.
"It used to be in Nissan, we had two-digit [project names]. 'LM' was R34. R32 is 'RX.' A kind of secret code," Tamura-san told me when standing next to the R35. "I put in this car 'TM,' for 'Trend Maker.'"
"I put in this car 'TM,' for 'Trend Maker.'"
The intent, then, was to make something different than anything else on the market, something that would make waves. But there was another meaning, too: "Traction Master," he said. "How can you grab the road as much as possible?"
The R35 did that with an all-wheel-drive system built around a radical transaxle setup with two driveshafts. It was one of the first cars with launch control, standard fare these days, and its array of gaming-inspired telemetry readouts and virtual gauges have likewise become de rigueur.
It's interesting to look back and see just how far ahead of the curve the R35 was. Its tenacious grip pulled the entire industry in its direction, with top performance models from every brand now taut with advanced stability control systems and grip-management techniques. Even brands like Lamborghini and Ferrari spend more time talking about torque vectoring and driver assistance systems than engine design and power outputs.
Horsepower has become boring. Digitally assisted handling is king, and the R35 was doing it before it was cool.
One Last Lap
For a car that was frequently described as being too digital when it was released, this last generation of the R35 GT-R Nismo feels delightfully raw as I get myself settled in the pits in 2024. Even at idle, the engine has an edgy rasp to it, a tone that's far from sonorous but dripping with intent.
It'd been a few years since I've driven an R35, and I'd forgotten that the entire instrument cluster pivots as you raise or lower the wheel, ensuring a clear view of the gauge cluster but, more importantly, making the process of getting settled all the more dramatic. Despite its generous proportions, the GT-R is far from roomy, but the ergonomics are just about perfect—its outrageous bare-carbon Recaro seats delightfully snug.
The only problem? Those seats were never offered in the American market, and now never will be.
The R35 never had a manual in any market, either, and though the dual-clutch, six-speed transmission has been improved greatly over the years, it's still clumsy. The car bucked a little as I idled my way out of the pits, and the first few shifts at part-throttle were less than seamless. That transmission just doesn't work smoothly. Likewise, the R35 has a tendency to clunk and complain from its various differentials when weaving through parking lots, but three-point turns weren't what brought me out to Japan.
Around the first few corners of Fuji's twisty short course, I was reminded just how good the GT-R’s steering feel is. The now old-school hydraulic power steering on the GT-R offers just the right amount of weight.
Most performance cars today struggle to offer any semblance of steering feel. Electronic power steering systems can be tuned to deliver whatever degree of resistance you want, with many manufacturers simply dialing down the assistance to make a car feel more "sporty" while failing to actually communicate what's happening beneath the tires.
As I moved from the well-worn asphalt in the circuit's early hairpin onto the smoother stuff that covers the more sweeping subsequent corners, I could feel everything.
As I moved from the well-worn asphalt in the circuit's early hairpin onto the smoother stuff that covers the more sweeping subsequent corners, I could feel everything. The Nismo’s stiffer suspension bucked over every bump, while the complete absence of insulation meant the cabin was filled with noise, a total ambiance of performance.
The car was a delight through the corners, nicely balanced, and doing all the right things to send all the power to the right places when I asked too much of the front or the rear. But even at its most basic, roaring down the front straight with both turbos Hoovering up volumes of crisp Fuji air, the GT-R was simply delightful.
A Fitting Send-Off
Other than the seats, Tamura-san told me that the GT-R I drove is representative of the final models here in the United States, the last of the R35s. The car lives on for another year in Japan, but Tamura said not to expect any major updates before the production ends in August. Yes, it's a shame we're missing out on almost a full year of availability, but it could be worse. The GT-R fell victim to European regulations two years ago.
But this isn't the end of the road for Nismo in the US. The Z lives on, a car that Tamura likened to a more active dance partner on the track. By comparison, the GT-R is a "mobile suit," he said, referencing the giant robot armor from the Gundam series.
The Z certainly proved fun around the same Fuji circuit, moving and, indeed, dancing on the edge of grip quite a bit more readily than its bigger sibling. It is a more active partner and a delight in its own right, but it's no GT-R.
The R35 was a car that was ahead of its time, but now that time has come. I asked Tamura what he thought the legacy of the R35 would be. "I don't know," he said. "Legacy must be said by you." But, he went on to add that the work isn't done.
I had to ask him for a hint of what's next. He naturally declined to give any details on when or even if the GT-R will return, but said that Nissan is studying every permutation of powertrain feasibility, chasing an ever-evolving set of propulsive trends to try and guess where the market is heading next.
Tamura said he doesn't know which will win out. "That's why I'm now like an advisor, brand ambassador," he said. But, he has an open mind. "If this is 100 percent EV, it's okay," he said, referencing a theoretical next-gen GT-R.
Only one thing matters: "Driving pleasure."
