What defines a supercar? Is it performance numbers? Chassis dynamics? Exclusivity? Thirty years ago the lines were clear-cut, but in today's age of "more everything", we're finding the classifications difficult to define; the lines blurred. Any number of the more sport-ute, sub-$40K sedans on today's market would annihilate the performance figures of yesterday's best, emerging as clear-cut victors in any competition, all while blockading the outside world's unpleasantries via heads-up displays, posh surroundings and decreased NVH levels. But with all those features, six cylinders, two turbos and 365 hp, are we to regard the latest Ford Taurus as a supercar? Why then, the Nissan Skyline GT-R? Or what about a car with no turbos to speak of, even less power, made by a company known more for fuel efficiency and crash safety than performance? Clearly there is more to consider.
The 1970s changed everything for the world's automakers. A paradigm shift in the Middle East's oil-producing nations prompted panic in the global market, drove up oil and gasoline prices, and brought utility and fuel economy to the forefront of the car buyer's wish-list, in place of performance and luxury. Take today's push toward small, lightweight, fuel efficient, and otherwise boring cars, multiply it many times over, and you'll begin to get the idea. Joe the plumber (and later, the rest of the world) traded in his carefree muscle car for something that wouldn't leave him waiting in gas station ration lines three times a week. Performance car lineages morphed into econoboxes (Skyline, Lancer, Corolla), were put on hiatus (GT-R), or eliminated entirely (Domestic muscle), and models like Honda's Civic and Accord, introduced seemingly in response to the times, sold like wildfire.
But through it all, the well-to-do got to hold onto their toys. Sales of European sports cars from Ferrari, Lamborghini, and Porsche barely took a dent amidst the turmoil, and while Honda toiled away building ultra-efficient econoboxes for the masses, putting their advancements in road-vehicle efficiency toward strengthening their race effort (and vice versa), serious thought was given to creating a halo car that could bridge the gap between performance and practicality, to rank the automaker among the world's elite.
Honda weren't inventors of the FF layout, but it's arguable they perfected it in the quest for an efficient commuter car. When it came to designing their performance dream car, adapting that layout to the rear wheels in a midship configuration (MR) would not only retain Honda's signature efficiency, but also decrease drivetrain mass, improve chassis rigidity, allow for improved visibility and control, and create better weight distribution for aggressive driving. Research into such a car began in 1983, when the company retrofitted a City and CRX with rear-mounted engines. The cars were found to handle better, but ultimately offer little perceived benefit over their native FF configuration. It was clear a ground-up platform would be needed, and with Honda re-entering Formula 1 ranks the same year, a low, wide, sports coupe seemed the logical ticket.