Ottawa Citizen

SAME OLD PERFECTION

The GT-R transports you into another dimension when those twin turbocharg­ers kick in

- NICK TRAGIANIS

I’m speechless.

Now, this doesn’t happen often, but the 2020 Nissan GT-R leaves me at a loss for words. Not because it’s a remarkable feat of engineerin­g built to dominate racetracks, or because the driving experience harkens back to the days when cars had feedback and soul, or even because it was styled by a dream team staffed by Ian Callum, Giorgetto Giugiaro, and I suppose Paul Deutschman.

I’m speechless because, well, there’s just nothing much new to say about the GT-R. It’s still (mostly) the same car today as it was back in 2008. It still packs a hand-built, twin-turbocharg­ed 3.8-litre V6, it still keeps the shiny side up (and the greasy side down) via Nissan’s legendary ATTESA E-TS all-wheel-drive system, and it’s still a two-door coupe.

Nissan’s given the GT-R tweaks and refreshes through the years. Today, you’re looking at 565 horsepower and 467 pound-feet of torque from its double-boosted V6, hooked up to a six-speed dual-clutch automatic. Opt for the Track Edition, and you get a bump to 600 hp and 481 lb-ft of torque, as well as a bunch of other go-fast goodies.

And last year, Nissan introduced the 50th Anniversar­y Edition model. It’s a throwback to the first in a rich lineage of hopped-up sports cars known almost exclusivel­y by their chassis codes, or nicknames like Hakosuka, Kenmeri, and of course, Godzilla. This package decks the car out in one of three colours, plus unique wheels and badging, a special interior colour combo, and some questionab­ly tasteful graphics. Honestly, this Godzilla could do without the stripe, and the “50th anniversar­y” script on the rear bumper looks kind of tacky. The badge right beside it is enough.

Once you slip behind the wheel and tap the start button, the first thing you’ll notice is how communicat­ive the car is; you can actually hear bits of the powertrain work and engage, like when the transmissi­on hops from park to drive, or when the cooling system kicks in.

As a daily driver, the big Nissan is surprising­ly docile. With the suspension in its softest setting, it soaks up bumps and rough pavement reasonably well, but you’ll feel bigger imperfecti­ons like expansion joints and potholes. Steering is on the heavy side, but unlike so many other systems, it doesn’t feel artificial and there’s a good amount of feedback; parallel parking or squeezing through tight garages is hardly a cake walk, but it isn’t as unwieldy as, say, the Challenger Hellcat.

Oddly enough, the GT-R is a bit too relaxed in its default drive mode. But set up the GT-R the right way, and hoo boy, does that ever change. You’ll be sorry you underestim­ated it. Flick the shifter into manual mode, downshift two, maybe three gears using the steering wheel-mounted paddle shifters, nail the throttle, and you’re essentiall­y transporte­d into another dimension as induction noises from the twin-turbocharg­ers tickle your ears.

Grip is phenomenal. Take a corner with any semblance of speed, and the GT-R hunkers down and grips tarmac as though the tires are coated in superglue.

At that point, you’re not even close to touching the GT-R’s limits. It’s insane.

Over the years, Nissan has jazzed up the GT-R’s cabin quite effectivel­y. The 2017 refresh added vastly improved interior materials, and that carries over for 2020. The driving position is absolutely spot on; the gauge cluster actually moves with the steering column when you adjust it, ensuring a clear view at all times.

There’s a good mix of physical switchgear, and the exposed carbon fibre on the centre console is tasteful. Unfortunat­ely, infotainme­nt hasn’t really kept up — it’s easy enough to use, but the display is fairly low-resolution and seems washed-out when you’re on Apple CarPlay. That said, the infotainme­nt also gives you access to a collection of readouts and gauges that monitor aspects such as engine coolant and oil temperatur­e, the drivetrain’s torque split, transmissi­on oil temperatur­e and pressure, and even g-forces. Nerdy, but neat.

The base GT-R Premium starts at just under $130,000, while the 50th Anniversar­y kit brings the as-tested total to about $139,000 — a far cry from the $80,000 price tag when it first launched in 2008. Opt for the Track Edition, and you’re looking at $166,998.

Who cares if there isn’t much new to say about the GT-R? You’ll be speechless, too, each time you nail the throttle and find your stomach in your chest.

Godzilla doesn’t need words.

 ?? PHOTOS: NICK TRaGIANIS/DRIVING ?? The 2020 Nissan GT-R 50th Anniversar­y Edition isn’t a whole lot different than its 2008 ancestor — and that suits Nick Tragianis just fine.
PHOTOS: NICK TRaGIANIS/DRIVING The 2020 Nissan GT-R 50th Anniversar­y Edition isn’t a whole lot different than its 2008 ancestor — and that suits Nick Tragianis just fine.
 ??  ?? It’s easy to underestim­ate the GT-R in its docile default drive mode, but set it up right and it offers some serious accelerati­on.
It’s easy to underestim­ate the GT-R in its docile default drive mode, but set it up right and it offers some serious accelerati­on.

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