Overview
What is it?
From the moment it arrived in 2017, it’s been a truly outstanding hot hatchback that operates on a different level to the rest of its front-driven rivals. One with barely a chink in its armour, and one that got even better upon the arrival of a mid-life update in 2020. Crikey.
However, times are a changing. Honda has revealed a brand-new iteration of the Type R, which means this FK8 generation (one for the model code nerds, there) has been put out to pasture. And that’s made us a little bit sad.
There, there. Tell me more about the old car.
Where to start? The Type R was mechanically untouched throughout its life: six-speed manual and front-wheel drive only, with a 316bhp 2.0-litre turbo four flinging its 1.4 tonnes towards a 169mph top speed via a 0-62mph time of 5.8 seconds. Proper figures, those.
And that manual was something else: the best shift action of the last decade, in our opinion. No higher praise than that. Especially at a time when everyone else was abandoning the good ship that was the manual gearbox. As everyone else was jumping ship to autos, Honda’s engineering team were the band still aboard clutching their instruments. And not only playing, but fine-tuning their performance as the water washed in around their ankles. We salute them.
What made it so good?
The lever itself was made from a satisfyingly stubby metal stick that controls the most beautifully wrought shift movement at any price. Except if you were on the Civic’s engineering team. “Could be better,” they ludicrously thought.
That 2020 update introduced a teardrop knob (rather than ball) to grasp, recalling fast Hondas of yore, and it shrouded counterweights which improved the way it moved around the H-pattern. The result was perfection.
Steady on now. What else did Honda change?
The Civic Type R recipe was tweaked a couple of years before it came off sale. Notice we’ve not called it a ‘facelift’; to do so when one of the most divisive styling packages on the market hadn’t really changed would feel wrong. But the geekier among you will spot the revised grille (and its 13 per cent larger opening) which resulted in a 10-degree drop in coolant temperature on track days.
And that was just the tip of the iceberg of Honda’s forensic-level update; behind those red-trimmed alloys lurked two-piece discs (rather than one) to take 15mm of ‘dead travel’ out of the brake pedal, which we’d wager no one had actually complained about. There was a retune of how the adaptive damping behaved through a corner, for more precision. Something we never, ever thought the FK8 Type R lacked.
Strewth. Anything else?
Oh yes. There were a few more options than before: the ‘regular’ car, pictured above, was bookended by a slightly more demure Type R Sport Line (much smaller rear wing, less red detailing, more sound deadening) and the considerably madder Type R Limited Edition (wearing committed Cup 2 tyres and weighing 47kg less than standard via forged BBS wheels, removal of the air con and stereo and less sound deadening). You can read a standalone review of that car by clicking on these blue words.
The Limited Edition cost a smidge under £40,000 when it was launched, and the UK’s 20-car allocation sold out in an hour. An hour! This rather suggests you’ll never pay less than forty grand for one when they re-emerge in the classifieds.
What were its main rivals?
Oh, only some of the best hot hatches we’ve ever known. The Ford Focus RS was launched the year before the Type R, the Renault Megane RS was another 2017 debutant. The Volkswagen Golf R Mk7 arrived earlier and departed sooner. Quite a generation of cars that, and the Type R was arguably the pinnacle.
Our choice from the range
Honda
2.0 VTEC Turbo Type R 5dr
£30,960
What’s the verdict?
“A spectacularly good hot hatch. Possibly the pinnacle of its era”
The Honda Civic Type R was spectacular, a hot hatch of great maturity when used for sensible stuff, but one possessing a truly wild side when called upon. While we’re excited to see what the new Type R will bring, we’re still a little sad to see the FK8 go.
Yes, the looks are OTT, but it’d be a real shame if they hold people back from delving beneath the surface, where it’s an engineer’s playground. One of the most formidable hot hatches ever. See you out there, old friend.
Volkswagen Golf GTI
Hyundai i30N
Ford Focus ST
£15,750 – £36,435
Continue reading: Driving
Driving
What is it like to drive?
Staggeringly good. The fact an engineer thought the FK8 Civic’s gearshift wasn’t quite perfect enough, and found a way to fix it, is important. Because it sums up the whole car. The updated Type R drove as spectacularly as ever while somehow feeling marginally sharper and more precise in ways we’d not thought important. Or possible.
You’d approach a corner, getting forceful but measured braking no matter how dimwittedly you stamp on the pedal, then bleed carefully off and back to the throttle as you turn its beautifully weighted steering wheel (later wrapped in Alcantara) before aggressively getting on the power at the merest sight of the exit, as its front differential doggedly drew you out of the turn before you fired up the road via two or three exquisite gearchanges. Again, no matter how ham-fistedly you rowed the stick around. Then you look at the number on the TFT dials and think “better calm down a bit now…”
Sounds mad!
Doesn’t it just. Grip was outrageous but not at the expense of some interactivity, and the car’s traction was unwavering (unless the weather was awful) without ever seeming ruthless in the way tenacious four-wheel-drive stuff can sometimes feel.
And every control was sooo precise and perfectly judged. Criticising the Civic Type R is tough, and you almost need rivals present to provide some context; a quick Golf would ride a bit more comfily, a Hyundai i30N would more happily act the fool at ‘normal’ speeds. And with so much power – and supreme ability to put all 316bhp of it to good use – the Civic’s performance wasn’t always what you’d call attainable.
You sound like you’re clutching at straws.
Oh we are. The FK8 Type R was always satisfying however you chose to drive it, and while it perhaps felt a little less relenting on rough roads (especially after its update), its damping always had a bit of comfort to spare. There was a genuine character change between the Civic’s Comfort, Sport and R+ modes, and the fact the car defaulted to Sport each time you nudged it into life felt about right.
Comfort’s biggest asset was the way it quelled the exhaust note on a motorway cruise, while R+ wasn’t necessary to wake the Type R up on a great road. But it did add some tangible excitement, not least in its more aggressive rev-matching on downshifts (which could be turned off, too).
So a car for all seasons, as it were?
It was a brilliantly judged package that would please anyone, whatever they thought of the looks. Which brings us to another point of nerdiness to note: the Sport Line, regular Type R and Limited Edition each got their own tyre to reflect how they’d likely to be used, with a Michelin Pilot Sport 4, Continental Sport Contact 6 and Michelin Cup 2 fitted respectively.
That’s probably responsible for the bright yellow Limited Edition’s biggest shift in character: we tried it for the first time on a sodden, narrow race circuit and it wanted to oversteer on every corner. Never a Type R trait before, but an absolute bundle of fun given how much information was drip-fed to you from every one of the Civic’s controls.
And when we ventured out onto the open road it still felt like a very special thing, though we can’t help but wonder why Honda stopped at ditching the air con and stereo and didn’t lose the rear seats too.
Previous: Overview
Continue reading: Interior
Interior
What is it like on the inside?
Most of the cabin was brilliant, and all the stuff that really mattered was absolutely nailed. The positioning of the pedals, steering wheel and gear knob were all set ‘just so’ for driving quickly, while the seats hugged you just the right amount and provided suitable padding from the harsher aspects of the ride.
In fact, you’ll have found no better seats below £100,000 when it was on sale. Not ones attached to a car, anyway.
They put many supercars to shame when it came to proving ‘support’ and ‘comfort’ aren’t enemy forces. They were mounted much lower than in rival hot hatches, too, for a properly focused driving position (though you could ratchet them back up if you craved crossover-esque visibility).
Changes for 2020 included an Alcantara-wrapped steering wheel – all the way round the rim, regardless of which level of spec you’ve chosen – and the option of more mature, less SHOUTY black seats if you went for the subtler Type R Sport Line. There was also better phone link-up than ever, so you wouldn’t be wound up by Honda’s own touchscreen setup for long. Phew.
Points of contention? You only got four belts – so there’s no popping a passenger in the middle of back seats – and lovely as the Alcantara wheel looked and felt, we wonder quite how red its red bits will be 10,000 miles down the line.
Anything else? If you do somehow get hold of one of those very limited Limited Edition examples in the future, be advised that the lack of air con is annoying on a hot day and the deleted touchscreen – oddly also sacrificing Honda’s data-logging tech in the version of the Type R most likely to visit a track – makes getting around tricky. Even a holster to display Google Maps on your phone would’ve done the trick.
Anyway… in case you’re wondering about more practical matters, the boot measured 420 litres with the rear seats up and 786 litres with them folded down. Meanwhile the Limited Edition managed a tad more on account of having more gubbins stripped from it. Rear legroom was plentiful but anyone over six foot might’ve needed a short back ‘n sides to avoid scrubbing the roof.
Previous: Driving
Continue reading: Buying
Buying
What should I be paying?
“Could you live with the looks?” We did, for six months, and adored the Type R even more by the end of them. It’s based on one of the most spacious and sensible hatchbacks of its day, too, so despite maniacal looks and a madly powerful engine, it still seats four easily and has a humongous boot.
Officially you’re looking at 33-34mpg depending on spec, and in our time with the Type R we averaged over 30mpg without really trying – try doing that in an i30N or Focus ST.
Before the Type R went off sale there was more choice than ever in the range, with the spoiler-less Sport Line, track-honed Limited Edition and the GT that sits between them, which is pictured here in glorious Racing Blue.
Prices started at a lofty (ish) £33,000, but that’s what a VW Golf GTI cost those days. And there’s no options list to speak of on a Type R: just a hell of a lot of stuff as standard which only begins to disappear if you go for that welterweight special.
The two key options on the configurator were the kind of thing you might not expect on a front-driven hatchback: carbon styling backs for the exterior (£3,500) and interior (£1,800). For those of you – in single figures, we presume – for whom the Type R’s styling is a bit too restrained.
Obviously with the FK8 Type R no longer available to order, your only hope of getting hold of one is in the classifieds. And that might be tricky because it’s a difficult car to find: clearly most owners don’t want to let theirs go, which is why most of the Type Rs that are up for sale being of the previous FK2 generation (or older). Find a 2017 example with less than 30,000 miles on the odometer and you’re looking at £23k, give or take. On the other hand some recent, low-mileage Type Rs are pushing £50k. Shop wisely…
All Type Rs cost £165 per year to tax, and those that crept beyond the £40k benchmark after options will incur a surcharge of £355 annually until the car is six years old. Services are recommended every 12,500 miles or 12 months, whatever comes first.
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Continue reading: Specs & Prices
Keyword: Honda Civic Type R (2017-2021) review