The Nismo’s V6 isn’t what you’d call sonorous, but it is eye-openingly effective
The rear-biased all-wheel-drive system edges the back-end wide on corner exit
The spring rates, shocks and dampers are all Nismo specific, and there’s also a hollow rear anti-roll bar.
Oddly, given the Nismo’s track focus, the brake package (390mm ventilated discs up front, 380mm rear) remains unchanged from the entry-level GT-R Premium, though there are additional cooling ducts.
What has changed is the weight, but not by as much as you’d expect given the Nismo’s extra lashings of carbonfibre, which also extends to the front and rear bumpers and the bootlid. Officially, the Nismo hits the scales at a hefty 1739kg, just 26 kegs less than the regular GT-R.
Still, incremental gains have long been the GT-R calling card and as I pull out of the pits onto Mountain Straight for the first time, I’m instantly reminded of the staggering way this thing stacks on speed. The VR38DETT isn’t what you’d call particularly raucous or sonorous, but it is eye-openingly effective. There is some turbo lag down low, but once on song the V6 rushes to its 7100rpm redline with ferocious intensity.
Another welcome reminder is just how connected the GT-R feels. In a world of polished, refined supercars the GT-R Nismo is refreshingly analogue, its diffs grumbling and transmission clunking at low speed and its hydraulic steering providing a tactile sense of communication. Nismo’s engineers have added a little more steering weight, and the result is a tiller that’s immediate, direct and instantly confidence inspiring.
If the bottom of Mount Panorama is all about power and big braking, then the top is about finesse. And the GT-R comes to the party. It turns in hard, is eager to change direction, and demonstrates a sense of balance and grip that defies its substantial heft. It’s particularly impressive through the high-speed sections, where it feels almost unflappably stable. The brakes are mighty too, though several hard laps does
result in some fade and a longer pedal.
The Nismo is also a car that’s easy to over-drive. Get too fussy with the steering or too eager on the throttle and you’ll run into understeer and power oversteer. Better to be smooth, to settle the car and revel in the grip and the way the rear-biased all-wheel-drive system edges the back-end wide on corner exit. Is it as engaging and as rewarding as rivals that weigh 200kg less? That’s questionable, but in isolation the Nismo is a staggering thing.
Where it makes less sense is on a public road. On old, pockmarked tarmac around Bathurst, the flipside of the Nismo’s extra focus is immediately felt. The suspension isn’t crashy, in fact it’s well controlled, but there’s no hiding that it’s super firm. Tramlining is rampant too, and if you do hit a big bump at speed, the whole car skips half a lane across the road. Is it unbearable? No. Is it acceptable? Just, if you’re driving to a race track. For regular use, the far cheaper, and only slightly less focused Track Edition makes more sense. Which brings us to the core of the issue facing the GT-R Nismo: do its exclusivity and incremental performance gains justify the $300K price tag? Objectively, no they don’t. But as a car to experience, as an expression of what the GT-R is capable of, the Nismo is one of the most engaging, talented and characterful cars on sale. It’s deserving of its place at the top of Godzilla’s family tree.