2023 Honda Civic Type R review

Enthusiasts groaned at the introduction of the FD2 in 2007 in spite of the fact that it was built at Swindon and had the same engine as its predecessor. The FD2 had the slightly heavier ‘spaceship’ body shell with the fuel tank under the front seats and a technically-inferior torsion beam rear suspension setup and 111bhp/litre. Still a nice car, but not as fiery as what had gone before.

It was here, in 2015, that things started to change in the world of European hot hatches. The burgeoning number of cars coming to market meant a smaller slice of the cake and the market started to split into luxury and all-out monsters. In the latter category, the red badge of courage (and sales success) was a scintillating lap time of the old Nordschleife at the Nürburgring and you don’t get to do that without wings (and a turbocharger).

So, the short-lived FK2 (2015 to 2017) got wings, vents, a turbo and considerable attitude, but it didn’t last long as Honda had another version of the Civic on the way with independent rear suspension, which in turn begat the monster FK8 of 2017.

For those who cling to the Doctrine of Signatures espoused by 17th-century botanist William Coles, the FK8 is proof positive that the Almighty shapes things according to their purpose. There were few more purposeful-looking beasties than the fifth-generation go-faster Civic with a power output of 158bhp per litre. Its wings sprouted little wings, its air intakes had air intakes within, it had three exhaust pipes, diffusers on the roof and a front splitter low enough to scrape chewing gum off the street.

Those wacky aerodynamics gave real downforce rather than just reducing lift and their purpose was proved when on April 3rd, 2017, Christian Menzel, the Porsche Supercup driver, laid down the gauntlet at the Nordschleife in a class-record 7min 43.8sec – you can see it here. It’s a tyre-torturing, virtuoso drive, though quite what that has to do with whizzing along a bumpy British B-road beats the hell out of me. Downforce in a road car is a fairly awesome thing. I was on the FK8 launch and with blind faith and the red mist, I overtook the test driver; believe me, that didn’t go down too well…

But time and emissions regulations move on and Honda has replaced its Civic with the latest 11th generation model, a handsome, fine-driving, hybrid device which frankly should have been on the Car of the Year shortlist, although that’s another story altogether. But such is the pressure to produce electric SUVs for Europe, we all wondered if a Type R version of the new Civic would even make an appearance. Could Honda’s corporate aggregate CO2 afford it and would it be a denuded machine barely worth the candle?

Chief engineer, Kakinuma-san, couldn’t make the launch because he was racing a new Civic Type R in an endurance race at Suzuka, which perhaps says it all. Everything is changed, nothing is changed; the Civic Type R still comes at you straight off the grid.

‘Soichiro Honda said that “without racing, there is no Honda”,’ he commented on a video link. ‘Type R is a definition and symbol of Honda’s understanding of driving pleasure, which is the core of personal mobility.’

The new FL5 Type R is an altogether less ludicrous-looking device than its predecessor, although that complex rear spoiler is going to be a bit of a bugger to clean. It’s a bigger car, longer, wider but lower than the last. As a result, it weighs 1429kg, which despite the resin tailgate, is about 30kg more than FK8. It also has a mild power boost to 324bhp and 310lb ft, which gives 163bhp/litre, along with a much lighter flywheel.

Insiders say the FK8 was rushed to market and wasn’t quite the car Honda’s engineers wanted. The FL5 is Honda putting things straight by throwing the kitchen sink at it. Mind you, I’d expect the gold-plated boiler taps thrown in for my £46,995 (or about £499 a month), which is a sizable increase from the outgoing model. The books open from today and first deliveries will be in January, though the UK’s allocation will be miserly. Should you join the orderly queue?

From the forged BBS wheels shod with 265/30 R19 tyres upwards, virtually everything is strengthened, titivated or made more efficient. The press conference was a blizzard of figures and percentages; think of this as Type R after a training montage.

The body is stronger and more resistant to twisting, with four times more glue in the joints than the FK8. The strut-front, multi-link rear suspension, while derived from that of the FK8, is thoroughly reworked with a wider track. There are new settings for the springs and adjustable dampers, increased camber stability and stronger front dual-axis struts with tweaked geometry and reinforced lower suspension arms.

The dual-pinion electric power steering is uprated with a 60 per cent more effective torsion bar, strengthened tie rod ends and reduced hysteresis (wind up). The brake servo is faster reacting and the two-piece front disc brakes are cooled with ducts which reduce front pad temperatures on an unnamed track by as much as 60 degrees C. At 124mph, the redesigned front pack and bonnet, plus that zany rear wing give 90kg more downforce that the standard Civic and more than the FK8, though that figure isn’t available, nor is a Nordschleife lap time, yet.

There’s a new ECU allowing quicker throttle response and a new set of software algorithms which can monitor your performance using data from the dampers, longitudinal and lateral forces and yaw. It can even work out the ultimate grip of the tyres and tell you how near you are getting to the ragged edge, though the advisability of staring at the centre screen to see how near you are to crashing seems questionable. There is also the usual plethora of timing aids, which are meaningless on a day like today.

So, what’s it like? On the unctuous Portuguese track, pretty awesome. The engine buzzes mightily as we pull out of the pits and head off to the tight third-gear Curva 1. So that’s a normal Type R bee-in-a-biscuit-tin accompaniment then, though with maximum torque from 2200rpm, you don’t have to row it along on the gear lever.

Changing down (because, yes, it’s still manual), you can feel the work that’s been done on strengthening the gear shift, not so much on the linkages and selectors, more the gate which allows more direct and smoother changes. Perhaps not quite as slick as that of the Ford Focus ST, though. The rev matching system makes track work fairly simple, but isn’t perhaps as rewarding as a proper driver heel-and-toe change. There is a way of turning it off, but it’s buried in the sub menus.

The steering feels calm, perhaps not the last word in feedback, but direct with a clear and precise on-centre response and a quick ratio so you never have to cross your arms on a race circuit. You can feel the traction control reining in runaway wheelspin and that electronic intervention is a feature of the whole lap, cutting the power, braking the inside wheel and keeping my excesses in check. It’s most impressive round the first parabolica, where the temptation to get on the power early has to be tempered by the massively slippery line on the exit. The entire car slides wide, the back and front of the car responding in equal measure depending on whether you close or open the throttle. At no time does the little Honda feel as if it’s taking charge, just helping. The chassis response is amazing, with variable degrees of oversteer available to those who dare depending on which driver mode you’ve dialled in: Comfort; Sport; +R; or Individual.

On one hard braking moment, the wheels start to lock and there’s that sickening lift of the bonnet and lighter than air feeling as you contemplate the smoking wreck that will end up against the Armco barrier. Ease, then gently press the brake pedal again and the progression of the brake system is an exemplar, enabling an in-control if off-line entry to the following hairpin.

Back in the real world and on the road (also wet), you’re immediately impressed by the jump in quality of the new Civic dashboard and cabin. Honda ploughs its own furrow with touchscreens, although this latest one is the best by far and the screen graphics and instrument binnacle are clear and well done. The sports seats are comfortable and supportive and there’s room in back for a couple of tallish adults, with a 410-litre boot behind them. Just not sure how long lasting that red carpet will be, though – perhaps floor mats would be a good addition to the options list.

All the good bits of the Type R on the track are still there on the road: the responsive steering and chassis, and the impression of calm behind the wheel which gives time and space to driving, even in traffic. But if that chassis responsiveness (and the grown-up cabin) are high points, the ride isn’t up to much, even in the Comfort setting. The chassis bobs front to back even at low speeds and the rubber-band profile tyres are not especially tolerant of a sharp-edged bump or pothole.

So, it’s a hatchback which will get you to work, but is happiest on a track with the revs soaring and the tyres’ squeals joining the engine’s shrieks. Seems to me this is the sort of car we had when young, when our joints were more supple, our eyesight 20/20 and single-minded, lightweight, responsive performance trumped any requirements for Isofix seat anchors, space and lane-keeping assistance.

What is it Steve McQueen said? That ‘racing is life, anything before or after is just waiting,’ even if he did appropriate the term from high-wire artist Karl Wallenda. The Civic Type R seems the mechanical embodiment of that and I loved it.