No, Japanese cars still don’t have an easy standing in the established classic car scene in this country. At trade shows you really have to look closely to spot the occasional car from the Land of the Rising Sun, and most of the time it’s the clubs that fly the white flag with the red dot – rarely the dealers. At classic car rallies, Japanese classics are equally rare but welcome guests, and at most open-brand meets, the presence of Toyota, Mazda & Co. is only slowly increasing.
But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a fan base. Quite the opposite: the scene is large, young, and colorful. Tuning and modifications are simply part of the culture here. Bright paint jobs or vinyl wraps scream for attention, the camber of shiny deep-dish wheels sometimes reaches alarming angles, and dozens of stickers on the car’s flanks tell of the tuning brands installed. The great thing is: anything goes, nothing is a must! Tuning extremists and originality purists celebrate their shared passion for Japanese cars together at meets.
Largely overlooked so far by major events in the German classic car scene, a separate scene has developed for Japanese classics – almost a subculture that probably seems rather strange to the average Pagoda or E-Type driver. Just like the unmistakable chatter of the blow-off valves on turbocharged beasts like the Nissan Skyline GT-R R34 or the Toyota Supra A80. Admittedly, two predictable models for a blog post about the fascination with Japanese classics. But at the latest since the Fast and Furious movies, their prices have literally gone through the roof.
From the Playstation to the Garage
And that brings us to one of the reasons why a model like the Skyline GT-R is so popular among young car enthusiasts. The first Fast and Furious film grossed $207 million worldwide in 2001 – a huge success. Teenagers at the time – myself included – flocked to the cinemas and then drove their on-screen automotive heroes on the Playstation. The Gran Turismo series, a racing simulation that sold millions of copies, was developed by the Japanese studio Polyphony Digital – and this was reflected in the selection of playable and collectible cars. The small-car brand Daihatsu alone is represented in Gran Turismo 4 (from 2004) with more models than BMW. A weighting that a German development team would certainly have handled differently.
But much more important than success in pop culture is that these cars don’t just meet the expectations projected onto them – they often exceed them. Let’s stick with the R34. It’s not just the coupe body that makes every car guy’s heart beat faster, but above all the legendary 2.6-liter inline-six (RB26DETT), which officially sends 280 hp to all four wheels. “Officially” is the key word here, because the 280 hp figure is only on the spec sheet because of a gentlemen’s agreement between Japanese manufacturers. Any dyno would easily put it well beyond 300 hp. And the best part? These engines can be tuned to 500 hp without much effort. With a bit more? There are Skylines out there boasting up to 1000 hp. That’s how legends are made!
The aforementioned gentlemen’s agreement, by the way, is one of those typically Japanese peculiarities that make their car culture so special. In 1988, Japanese manufacturers agreed to stop the dangerous arms race for ever more power. The rule: no production car should have more than 280 hp or go faster than 250 km/h. Sometimes this agreement was adhered to more strictly, sometimes less – but it actually held until 2005.
Culture and Curiosities
Another important part of Japanese car culture is the so-called Kei cars. These tiny cars, restricted in length and engine displacement, are tax-advantaged and can even be registered in many prefectures without proof of a private parking space. And it’s not just about minimalism, as the Subaru Libero proves – a microbus that was even available here in the ’90s: there’s room in the smallest hut. And models like the Daihatsu Copen or Suzuki Cappuccino impressively show that driving fun is guaranteed even on just 3.40 meters of length.
But in 1992, Suzuki’s engineers took the concept of a sporty Kei car to a whole new level: with the Suzuki Cara and its twin, sold under Mazda’s Autozam sub-brand as the AZ-1, they presented a mini sports car with gullwing doors. Just 3.30 meters long, only 720 kilograms in weight, and with 64 hp under the sheet metal, it’s a technical and visual curiosity – delightfully quirky to European eyes. A rare gem that can be admired in the special exhibition at this year’s Bremen Classic Motorshow.
Technology that Excites
It’s exactly these oddities, these unique paths and technical solutions that make Japanese classics so fascinating. Want more examples? How about Mazda’s rotary engines: in the 787B, the rotating piston triumphed as the first and only Japanese car at the 24 Hours of Le Mans. In the RX-7 it conquered the streets as well as the tuning and drifting scene, and in the Eunos Cosmo (another former Mazda sub-brand) it brought luxury to the coupe class. No other manufacturer has cultivated the rotary engine as consistently as Mazda.
Honda, with its VTEC engines from 1989 onwards, created a true monument. Sure, the idea of variable valve timing wasn’t entirely new, but the simple, compact, affordable design and impressive reliability made VTEC a genuine milestone in engine building.
Then there’s Subaru, which alongside Porsche is the only car brand to consistently rely on boxer engines. Mitsubishi, which in 1995 was the first to put gasoline direct injection into series production for four-stroke engines. Or Toyota, which in 1997 made hybrid technology mass-market-ready with the Prius.
This list is far from complete, but it already suggests that the German classic car scene is still a little blind in its Japanese eye. But maybe that’s our advantage, as the young generation who grew up with Fast and Furious, Gran Turismo, the anime Initial D, the video game Need for Speed and other formats – that we didn’t experience the panic that German media spread in the late ’70s about cheap Japanese imports supposedly on the verge of destroying the German auto industry.
Because today, 50 to 60 years later, we find: the German auto industry isn’t dead. The much-cited “threat” from the Far East has turned out to be an enrichment for a colorful, diverse car scene – and an entry point for many motivated young car enthusiasts. I wish this would be reflected more clearly in the established classic car formats here.
German text: Daniel Endreß
