I love Japan. I love the weirdburger culture; the way manners are taken to the extreme yet there are vending machines in Tokyo unapologetically dispensing used women’s underwear.
If you overlook the fact some Japanese prefer Moby Dick swimming in soy sauce than the ocean, Japan is great.
But I first fell in love with Japan for its cars. My first performance car was a 1986 Toyota MR2. It had a mid-mounted supercharged 1.6-litre engine, so close to your spine it felt like you were wearing it as a backpack, and would happily and swiftly punish messy driving by spinning within its own length. It was terrific fun and an education in driving. I miss it.

But what rips at my soul these days is that Japan has lost its way. I love the 86 and BRZ but nearly two years after their on-sale, we’re yet to see any hotter versions. This used to be Japan’s “thing”.
There’s the Nissan GT-R and Lexus LFA, but buggered if most of us could afford either. The 370Z and Mitsubishi Evo X, meanwhile, are ancient.

Entire communities today worship these cars thanks to the internet. Yet they couldn’t give two shits about the new stuff because the Japanese car makers themselves don’t seem to have their hearts in performance cars anymore. Yet the Germans are churning out fast cars like sausages.
The Subaru STI is still kicking of course, but I can’t help but fight off a feeling of mild disappointment. It looks, well, nothing like the pumped-guard, animalistic concept car we saw at the 2013 New York motor show.

I realise this is all a bit harsh. The GFC kicked the Japanese car companies right in the gonads. They’re still recovering. I just hope it’s sooner rather than never.
My hope the Japanese will mount a performance-car resurgence clings like a frightened barnacle to one car in particular. It’s not the new NSX or Civic Type R – they don’t do it for me yet, I don’t know why.
