Nissan slams the door on the R35 GT-R.R35 GT-R.H Finally.
After 18 years of terrorizing supercars costing three times as much, Godzilla is officially retiring. Nissan closed the order books in Japan last month, the final market where you could still buy a new GT-R.
The message on Nissan’s Japanese website reads like a funeral notice for an engineering marvel that refused to die.
Production continues until July 2025, when the last examples will roll off the line.
The Last Samurai
The R35 GT-R has outlasted presidents, prime ministers, and entire automotive brands.
Launched in 2007 with a 3.8-liter twin-turbo V6 producing 480 horsepower and sporting an advanced AWD system that made supercars look primitive.
Initial pricing started around $78,000—a performance bargain that made Porsche engineers buy one just to figure out how Nissan did it.
The car had already disappeared from other markets years ago:
- Exited Europe in 2022 (noise regulations)
- Left Australia (crash safety standards)
- Departed America after the 2024 model year
What killed it wasn’t competition. It was bureaucracy.
Eighteen Years of Dominance
Most sports cars get redesigned every 7-8 years. The R35 laughed at that timeline.
It just kept getting faster. And more expensive.
The final NISMO variants pushed 600 horsepower and price tags north of $200,000—yet still found buyers who recognized raw performance when they felt it.
The GT-R’s evolution over nearly two decades tells a story of engineering obsession:
- Launch control systems that voided warranties but delivered sub-3-second 0-60 times
- Transmission refinements that turned the early car’s clunky shifts into rifle-bolt precision
- Aerodynamic tweaks that kept it planted at speeds that would send lesser cars airborne
No Heir Apparent
Nissan hasn’t announced an R36 successor.
Financial struggles and a failed Honda merger have shifted priorities away from halo performance cars.
The GT-R departs as perhaps the last true Japanese supercar built without compromise—a machine engineered for speed first, with everything else as an afterthought.
It never pretended to be luxurious. Never claimed to be practical. Never apologized for its singular focus.
That’s why it earned respect. Not for what it tried to be, but for what it actually was.
A monster.
