The year 1990, as I’ve written several times before, is situated right in the middle of a most inauspicious period in automotive design. Even Jaguars looked ugly back then, for crying out loud. So I’m effectively calling the R32 Skyline “the best of the worst.” Bit of a backhanded compliment, but a compliment all the same.
I know, I know, everyone has their pet bête noire when it comes to this subject. Some lament the gaudy excesses of the ‘70s Brougham epoch, others loathe the computer-assisted soullessness of the present times. And there is some truth to both of these points of view, but nothing compares, in my opinion, with the dark veil of mind-numbing blandness that descended on the world circa 1985 and remained in place for about a decade. I remember the period well. There was one type of hatchback, one type of big saloon, sports cars were legally mandated to have pop-up headlights and anything American other than minivans necessarily wore that stupid “formal” roofline. Rays of sunshine were few and far between.
But at the time, I was not aware of the intricacies of the Nissan range. All I saw were uninspiring Micras and Primeras puttering about my corner of Europe. Dour little things they were. Over in Japan though, Nissan were experimenting with the Pao and the Figaro, perhaps in an acknowledgment that automotive design was in such dire straits that looking to the past might provide an answer. But they also looked ahead, and the R32 Skyline is a case in point.
The predecessor: 1985-90 Nissan Skyline (R31) saloon and coupé
I have yet to meet an R31 Skyline saloon in the metal, but from what I’ve seen online, it seems they represented the species’ lowest ebb, though the R30 saloon was pretty bad too. I tend to judge a car design by its base model – a workmanlike four-door, if available – and by that measure, it seems the famous Nissan nameplate did not live up to its sporty image in that generation. The R31 coupé is a bit better, but hardly spectacular.
Above: Nissan Skyline (R32) brochure excerpt, 1989; below: 1989 Nissan Skyline GT-R
By contrast, when the R32 arrived in 1989, with the customary plethora of trim levels, Skylines started looking interesting again. The previous generation’s unimaginative square-peg-in-a-square-hole body, which looked like a rejected Volvo prototype, gave way to a more aerodynamic nose and a finer-looking cabin. The elongated headlamps provided a bit of sensuality. The rear end was still in the rectangular idiom, but it was less severe than the preceding generation’s blocky back-end. And if high performance was the client’s chief concern, the GT-R coupé was a credible alternative to a Porsche 911 Turbo.
One of the most distinctive features of the R32 saloon is its greenhouse. Again, where the predecessor Skyline displayed a damning lack of imagination or flair, this one reintroduced a curvy rear glass and simplified the C-pillar design to great effect. The hardtop look really suits the car and the compact, close-coupled nature of the beast almost makes it look like a four-seater coupé.
I understand that this appearance of compactness is confirmed when one sits inside the Skyline, especially at the back. It’s no Tardis, but then that’s what one should expect of a high-performance saloon like the R32. The only pity is that Nissan gave up the station wagon variant for this generation, so there really is no way to get something a little bigger. One merely had to wait until the Stagea came to fruition in 1996.
Speaking of inside, here’s what that looks like. Interesting little collection of “at your fingertips” buttons and controls on the leading edge of that dial pod, there. Would have made a ‘70s Citroën proud. Still, this looks mightily more appealing than most 1990 cars, which still usually ignored anything but straight lines.
As is often the case, this Skyline’s owner has taken the badges off, so one can only speculate as to the car’s engine. It’s probably not a base-spec model with the puny 1.8 litre 4-cyl. (a Skyline without a six? Booo!), so it ought to have the RB20DE 2-litre straight-6. Whether said six is a peaceful 125hp standard unit or a potent 215hp turbocharged version (or somewhere in between) is anybody’s guess.
One thing is certain: the four-door Skyline only received the 2.5 litre engine option when the R32 got its mid-life facelift in August 1991, so our feature car here does not have the bigger engine. I’m sure whatever’s under the hood is amply sufficient for a bit of a drift anyway. And if one really wanted a Skyline with serious performance, one just had to order the GT-R – but those had two doors only. So let’s take a look at one of those, too.
“GT-R” is one of those GT acronyms that made its way into the collective automotive unconscious, like GTO, GTV and GTI. When the R32 resuscitated the name, which had last been seen in 1973 on the Skyline C110, it was a masterstroke of branding. This time around, the famous three letters would only adorn coupés, and those would be armed with a twin-turbo 2.6 litre straight-6 officially providing 280hp, though some say the engine’s actual output was closer to 315hp.
This impressive cavalry was sent to all four wheels. Said wheels, all independently and multilink-ly suspended, also featured Nissan’s High Capacity Actively Controlled Steering (HICAS) four-wheel steering system. There were some even-spicier special versions made, but the standard GT-R was already plenty good for most people.
I didn’t manage to photograph this GT-R’s interior, so here’s a period brochure photo of one. Pretty much the same thing as the four-door, except those extra dials on the central stack. Probably turbo-related or whatever. Why is that handbrake trying to move in on the gear lever’s personal space though? I realize social distancing wasn’t a thing in 1990, but too close for comfort surely was.
On the track, the R32 Skyline GT-R wiped the tarmac with its competitors. It dominated the Japanese Touring Car Championship five years in a row and conquered the Australian one so definitively in 1991-92 that the Ozzies dubbed it “Godzilla.” So Nissan sold these as fast as they could make them, not even bothering with exports.
Actually, it seems they didn’t export the Skyline saloons, either, but at least they stopped making those after a while (i.e. summer 1993). When it came to the GT-R, the R32 coupé outlived the saloon by over a year. They just could not stop making them – maybe they knew the successor R33, both heavier and uglier, was never going to top this one.
As a result, these are not an uncommon sight in present-day Tokyo, despite being 30 years old. Very few cars can claim that, especially performance-oriented ones. If any Skyline ever deserved to be called iconic by Japanese enthusiasts, it’s probably the R32 GT-R.
Personally, I’ve got more of a soft spot for the four-door. It’s now becoming scarce and it probably can’t be of any use for anyone over six feet tall, but its combination of a lithe look with a steady stance is more attractive than the GT-R’s bulging fenders and tacked-on spoilers. Competition was at an all-time low when the R32s came off the assembly line. Makes them shine all the more brightly today.
1989-1993 were “Peak Japan”
R32 GT-R
NSX
Twin Turbo 300ZX
Last “100% Toyota” Supra
Last RX-7
MX-5 Miata
Lexus LS400
Infiniti Q45
2nd generation Legend
All happened around that time
I’d include the 90-series Corolla, especially the liftback (Sprinter Cielo in Japan, Corolla Seca in Australia, Geo Prizm Hatchback in America) along with the 4th and 5th generation Civics and Accords and the third gen Camry in that count.
I’d include the Nissan Maxima of those years also. That was when “4DSC” really meant something.
You forgot the 89-94 Maxima
3000GT VR-4
The R32 Skyline sedan is one of the most beautiful sedans ever designed.
I nearly bought one a few years but couldn’t find a tidy example.
The cars worst feature was the cramped interior for what is a medium to large sedan. I believe Nissan Australia had considered importing or assembling the sedan as an update to the R31, but they realised the packaging would have not have met customer expectations.
The R31 wasnt a sales success in Aussie that might have put them off a little
Ah, the ’80’s. Why did they bother? In fact, to borrow the Basil Fawlty line, I didn’t know they did.
I have not only met an R31 Skyline sedan but threaded my way carefully past the sharp outside edges into the inside, which is unquestionably the finest place from whence that exterior is best surveyed, though once ensconced, the Attack Of The Set Square is also apparent in the dashboard, (which is ofcourse impossible to avoid once one is there, unless one is willing to drive in the slightly hair-raising position wherein one only looks directly downwards, itself possibly a risk to the neck joints and even maybe other road users). It is a relief to be able to report that the offences inflicted upon one’s sense of the aesthetic natural order by the appearance of things is balmed greatly by the driving experience, as it is smooth, it is quiet, it comfortable, and it handles like a competent car from the era in which it was made, rather than driving like a machine from the era in which it was surely styled (that being the era of the Invention of the Set Square some centuries prior). They also proved most reliable over vast mileages, thus making them like someone’s obnoxious and agile child, very hard to like and yet very hard to kill. Oh, and like obnoxious children now, they were everywhere here then. Popular with an senior crowd whose eyesight was essentially guesswork, one presumes.
The R32 was a bit nicer than that, some said. In the sense that Mother Theresa was considered to be a bit nicer than Ghengis Khan, I agree.
The sedan is indeed a proper beauty, and it would take the skills of a Dr T or Proff Andreina to explain the subtleties of just how it is so nice whilst still actually getting many cues from the two previous Skylines. My sophisticated version is that I don’t know how they done it, but I know they done it, and I don’t know anything about styling, but I know it when I see it.
Sadly, the sedans never got here, probably sensible unless one had shrunk the kids, honey – actually, “and honey”, and oneself, come to that, as they aren’t big, but I digress – and just 100 of the Godzilla turbo 4wd/steer jobbies ever came. As mentioned, it did well everywhere it raced, leaving seething crowds of Intellectually Minimalist Folden supporters to outright boo the Skyline winner of the Bathurst 1000. (They were rewarded with a podium spray not only from the champagne of the driver but a choice selection of his best un-Parliamentary repartee. If any had understood the word “chastened”, they should have felt so, but alas, evolution is an incremental process, but I am again digressing).
And since the arrival of those once-reviled 100, a younger crowd have since imported approximately 273,000 of them and made replicas, albeit I have stated that evolution is gradual, as they are universally replicas that include a turbo nearly big enough to be towed on its own trailer, asthmatically shrill ear-removing dump valves, and exhaust systems so large that they alone held off the demise of the Australian steel industry for length of time that has continued to bamboozle economists. Still, it counts as a sort of upward progress if one takes the long view, though if the view is of one such Nissan outside one’s window at 2am reducing it’s tread depth and smoking, one generally takes up a rock, but I digress.
After reading the article last night, I was looking forward to your response this morning. I was not disappointed. Brilliant!
Very attractive cars and they don’t come across as 30-somethings, which only the best can avoid. Interesting that both your finds came in that more or less obligatory Skyline of the era color. Not a bad color, if a bit difficult to photograph and capture the excitement of the underlying metal.
I don’t know if I’d fit but I’d surely love to have a go in one, whether 2 or 4 doors, they all look pretty good to me!
2 or 4 doors, better looking than any Nissan today.
+1.
The R33 Skyline with the inline-6 was arguably “The Last Prince”
The R34 was mechanically identical. 🙂
*triggered* 1990 JDM was at its peak, Europe started coming up with designs that didn’t come from the same two overrated Pininfarina/giugiaro tracings from 1975, and American design had largely shed most of its dystopian compacted sharp edged sheer look obsession. My favorite period in collective car design is 1965-1975, but 1985-1995 is the runner up. Everything since has homogenized bodystyles, lost regional identity, gained lovehandles, been scarred with goofy post-modern flares and creases, and look utterly terrible without checking the gigantic impractical wheel and low profile tire option. Present times aren’t just computer generated soullessness, they are an ugly soul. R35 included, that grotesque mutant. And popup headlights were the best thing to happen to sports cars, only the best used them 🙂
A big fat PLUS 1 to that.
Word!
Well, anything seems beautiful when parked next to one of those Nissan NV350 vans (or at least I think that’s what it is)…
I have no in-person experience with these vehicles, but to me the sedan looks a lot like the 2nd generation Honda/Acura Integra sedan — the profile, pillars, hardtop-look, etc. In my opinion, not too bad, but far from memorable, and I never recall anyone getting excited over an Integra 4-dr.
And I think our featured sedan here would look a lot more alluring if it were painted in a color other than monotone rat gray.
Just a couple of notes, that 4-door looks to be a GTS-T type M, or GTS-4, with the RB20DET, judging by the steering wheel and especially the brakes – Type M’s, GTS-4’s and GT-R’s got 4-piston front calipers, twin rear, while the other grades got singles.
A look at the dash cluster would confirm, as the GTS-4’s had a torque bias gauge on the dash. Which always seemed a bit redundant to me, as if you’re in a situation where drive is being directed forward you’re probably a bit too busy to be looking at the gauges!
On the GT-R, they were exported in small numbers to Australia, where they were localised to Australian design rule specification, with extra indicators added to the front guard behind the wheel. I assume this was to meet homologation rules to race in Group A over there? Or perhaps just that Nissan saw a chance to sell some cars on the back of their absolute domination of the Australian Touring cars series. I’m unaware of the exact numbers, fairly sure it wasn’t even into the hundreds.
I have a feeling that one or two were brought in to New Zealand as press/promotional cars as well, but can’t confirm that.
One of the first Japanese cars where excessive details were left by the wayside. I like these, but wow was I blown away the first time I saw one in person; they are much smaller than photos suggest. The last Ford Focus sedan dwarfs this car in all but length, and even then it’s only two inches shorter.
Interestinly or not the Skyline that conquered the Australian touring car mountain wasnt Japanese it was built in Australia by Gibson Motorsport yes it had a Nissan engine block and head and the shell began life at Nissan but the car was extensively modified to race in OZ and Kiwi Jim Richards drove it,
Crashed Skylines are pretty common in NZ every boyracer seems to get hold of a Skyline and automatically believes all the propaganda about the brilliant handling forgetting that was the GTR model with 4WD not the shitbox four door they have and they spin off into the scenery good ones are getting quite prized now unmodified ones almost unobtanium.
After seeing several articles, featuring older vehicles, I cannot help but wonder how those cars manage to survive to this day in spite of mandatory quadrennial Shaken inspections that require expensive replacement of parts.
Chiming in about the “peak period” of Japanese cars, my favourite is Y31 Nissan Cedric hardtop (1987–1991) in either plushier Brougham or sportier Gran Turismo trims.