The chances of seeing a regular NSX in white are next to zero, but you’ll be able to identify the Type-R by the red H emblem adorning the nose. It lies just ahead of the vented carbonfibre bonnet which, together with a hollow rear spoiler made from the same stuff, a lighter battery and the elimination of kit such as the central locking system, helps chop around 145kg from the standard car’s 1445kg kerbweight. That front scoop is more than just window dressing, too. It’s part of a series of aerodynamic tweaks, including a rear diffuser, that are claimed to keep the Type-R welded to the tarmac at high speed.
Peer inside and the fantastic Recaro bucket seats, titanium gearknob and yellow instrument dials should remove any trace of doubt over the R’s game plan, although the presence of air conditioning and electric seat motors seem odd given the weight savings made elsewhere. Sadly, the ‘grey’ car’s lovely Momo steering wheel has bitten the bullet to make way for an airbag-equipped item.
But you’ll forget that, and the slightly high-set seat, the moment you turn the key. Doing so opens the floodgates and unleashes a rich torrent of mechanical noise into the cabin. Engine tweaks are limited to blueprinting the internals, so Honda quotes the same ridiculously pessimistic 276bhp as it does for the standard car (torque is up 4lb ft to 224lb ft) but we’d put money on it making more.
Gear ratios are the same, too, but a lower final drive and that weight-saving program result in a tangible jump in performance over the 170mph and 5.7sec to 60mph claimed for the standard car. Talk is of a 4.8sec potential, but what really matters is that it feels deliciously fast as you slice up and down the six-speed manual ’box. It also sounds even better than before as the needle howls towards the number eight on the left-hand dial, accompanied by a frenzied crescendo of induction and exhaust rasp.
We weren’t able to try the NSX on the sort of nasty British A- and B-roads that have the potential to reveal an unpleasant side to stiffly set-up cars but, on track, the uprated springs, dampers, anti-roll bars and new bushes work brilliantly, making this a car in which even mildly handy drivers can lap quickly and confidently. Pedal spacing is ideal for heel and toe work and the ventilated brake discs feel massively powerful, hauling the R down from big speeds time and again without signs of fade.
But even better is the steering – unassisted on the R and hugely heavy when parking – which demands a fair amount of arm work even at speed, but rewards with an incredibly detailed and uninterrupted dialogue between you and the front wheels, leaving you in absolutely no doubt about events at the sharp end.
At a time when too many manufacturers are trying to fob us off with synthesised feel for the sake of saving the odd mile per gallon, it’s this single aspect of the Type-R that leaves the most lasting, and welcome, impression.
So incredibly capable is the chassis, though, that you just know it could handle a whole lot more grunt. Front-end bite from the special Bridgestone RE070s is phenomenal in the dry and, so good is the traction, you can safely employ full noise exiting quicker corners without unsettling the rears. The same technique on second-gear turns reveals the Type-R to be just as happy drifting as the NSX always was. The legality of those boots for European applications is still unclear: we genuinely hope they get the nod.
As you’d expect, there’ll be a premium to pay for all this extra ability. Full prices are still guesswork, but reckon on £75,000 for the R against £60,000 for a regular NSX. So good was the standard BMW M3 that we questioned the sanity of someone willing to pay over £60k for a CSL. Until we drove one – then its 50 per cent mark-up seemed almost justifiable.