Pants in Motion

Yesterday I drove the Nissan GT-R.

Now, I’m not a GT-R guy, never have been. In my world, those cars are for people with annoying baseball caps, stupid trousers and other bargain-basement ‘performance’ cars like the Subaru WRX or the Honda Civic Type R. I drove the Nissan 370Z last week and it was… acceptable. Well put together but with enough flaws (limited headroom, ‘meh’ interior finish and weak steering adjustment) to drop it well down my list of cars to investigate in the future.

The GT-R, though… that’s an entirely different kettle of fish. The 370Z feels like most fast cars – you take a reasonable chassis, you put in a powerful motor, upgrade the brakes and tweak the suspension and you’re pretty much done. The GT-R is like sitting in the cockpit of a fighter jet, and your co-pilot is Voltron.

You hear everything. The interior is loud, but not in that ‘cheap car without enough sound damping’ way. Rather, this car was designed by a bunch of very clever engineers who were simply trying to make the best damn sports car they could imagine, and silence? Silence doesn’t make a car faster, more exciting or more visceral. And so it wasn’t on their checklist.

Starting the car is simple – press the ENGINE ON button and the machine rumbles into life. It’s a dual-clutch manual, similar to a Volkswagen DSG system, but the transmission is behind you, almost giving you the sensation of a mid-mounted engine. It’s not a fussy car to drive slowly, although you do feel utterly ridiculous puttering along at walking pace.

Putting the foot down makes that feeling go away. It’s nothing like any car I’ve driven before. Nothing like a big V8 Commodore, nothing like my turbo FWD. The car simply picks you up and throws you forward without any complaints or hesitation. The acceleration is godly, and the all-wheel drive system keeps the car ridiculously well-planted. You simply don’t feel the weight of the thing, even though it’s as heavy as a Commodore VE.

Braking is just as effortless. There is no squirming, no squirrelly feel, just a strong pressure on your back and the rapidfire blasts of the transmission dropping gears faster than any mortal could.

I didn’t think I’d like this car. And in some ways, I still don’t. It’s loud, it’s impractical – it’s almost the complete opposite of a 911 Turbo (a car that really can be used as a daily driver). Yet it has something that I think the Turbo would lack, a sense of drama that I wasn’t expecting from a Japanese car. Somehow this land of science and engineering has produced something with soul.

If you have the chance to try one of these, take it. It’s a masterwork of engineering.