Honda doesn’t have a more soulful, raw and exciting car.

ASIMO the humanoid robot who progressively went from shaking hands and tentative steps to moon-dancing like MJ … by now he’s probably got a professional basketball contract in the US and earning extra bucks playing piano at concerto-level in bars.

A small business jet just uprated to fly 3000 kilometres’ burning little more than a cup-full of fuel; stunningly quiet lawn mowers.

And so much motoring innovation. Cars that forsook dinosaur juice for battery drive and burning hydrogen, well before we understood why we might one day even want to. The first brand to deliver four-wheel-steer to a production car. First with variable valve timing and lift electronic control. Or, as you know it, VTEC.

Honda’s bent for forward thinking, with complex solutions to huge challenges, is well demonstrated. How ironic, then, that the best of the showroom goodies, from an enthusiast view, is a car built on ‘bad’. And simplicity.

No argument, the ‘FL5’ Civic Type R releasing this month has plenty of clever technology. Layers and layers of it. It’s the most sophisticated of its kind, yet.

Even so, in adhering to the same template that packed into the two previous editions, the most recent of which also sold new here, it’s really pretty simple. Stonkingly powerful small capacity engine, now outputting 235kW and 420Nm, three pedals, perfectly-weighted close ratio six-speed manual gearbox, harness-ready bucket seats, front seats and dash covered in arterial blood red flocked felt, just enough driver assists, stiff suspension, competition quality brakes and tyres, not a load of refinement. That’s hot hatch 101. A recipe as simple as scrambled eggs.

And, yet, Honda manages to add a special something that enhances the flavour. It’s a mad car, of course, to point where it looks and acts like it took a wrong turn off a race track. And a great one, because of this.

How will it truly cope as a daily drive? Past experience suggests it will be highly invigorating, hugely involving and, on occasion, somewhat intimidating in the general roadscape. Exactly to what to degree I’ve no idea, sorry. With just one, pre-production example in the country, the media introduction was by necessity purely at Pukekohe circuit.

Honda NZ put in effort into the day. With ‘R’ having been around for 50 years, 25 with Civic, 2022 is a big year. It had a big spread of its past performance portfolio trackside, everything but an NSX. It also provided, for hard driving fun, the 2015 (Civic Mk 9-based) 228kW/400Nm FK2 and an FK8 (same output initially, a bit more in the mid-life form we drove). Reason being? If you’re true to Type, you’ll know why.

If not? Okay, it’s the drivetrain hardware. They all run a 2.0-litre turbocharged four-pot VTEC engine (KC20C1 to nerdists), driving the front wheels through a six-speed manual gearbox and limited-slip differential.

Insofar as a strict NZ new model reference goes,what we get now is a second gen. But that’s because we only got to officially know the hottest Civic in its 2017 issue, as a second spin with the boosted engine. The Civic Type R story actually began last century, with four preceding generations.

Remarkably, some of those were on display at Pukekohe, too. No mean feat given the very first Type R, a 1.6-litre of 1997 (EK9), was Japanese exclusive, the second (EP3, 2.0-litre, naturally-aspirated) was for Japan and the United Kingdom and the next (FN2/FD2) then FK2, went all over the show. Except here. Until, at least, they arrived via grey channels.

There have been other Type R Hondas, too – in Integra form, which NZ had in normally-aspirated form before it went to the Civic (the yellow press car I recall giving a good thrashing was among the display cars, and now off limits to journos) - the Accord and even a hens’ teeth-rare version of the NSX (this writer got to drive one of those at the Motegi circuit in Japan).

Just sticking with the turbos made for quite enough to think about. As samey as they all are, each demonstrated its own character out on the track.

You could write a book about the nerdiness of the changes between these generations, with a chapter even about how the gear shift action has been continually and minutely dabbled with. Likewise the shifter knob. It’s now more teardrop-shaped, recalling fast Honda race cars of yore, including the RA271, the landmark single seater that took Honda into Formula One back in 1964.

The FK2 was a great starting point fro our driving immersion. It’s less muscular as those that followed, but still genuinely stonky and has a lovely purity to it. I thought it felt deliciously balanced and truly playful.

The FK8, on the other hand, was initially something a rude shock for the next 20 minute instalment of track time: It was a real Spinal Tap experience, everything turned up to ‘11’.

Dialling in to it asked for a different, more sensitive approach and took some time. Initially, I pushed too hard and felt it bite back. The boost in punch was immediately, but more evident was the step up in urgency and soundtrack. I almost spun it in the first lap, having gone too hard into the back straight chicane on cold tyres, and even managed to fluff a cog change from a gearbox many have decided offers the best shift action in any performance car. I’m relieved to say I finally did attune to the car’s ways, but it took more time than I expected it to.

What can you expect from FL5? From where I sat, it seems an attempt to blend the best of both preceding offers.

It’s definitely more ferocious than the two before, yet the styling is a bit calmer – yes, even with that huge wing – and is more akin to the FK2 in respect to driver feedback. The engine remains as rev-happy as ever, but in respect to aural signature it less shouty than the FK8 when they’re each in the ultimate R Plus mode. Like FK8, it has rev-matching, including now on first gear with was never needed at Pukekohe, but there’s less drama to that, as well.

Don’t think it has gone soft. Yes, it looks the least racy of the three turbo editions, but appearances very much deceive. FL5 does nothing to discredit the claim this is the fastest of the lot. What’s also evident is a trace more sharpness to the turn-in and improved pedal feel from those fancy brakes. It also has the best driving position and offers the most complete instrumentation from a wholly redesigned digital dash. If anything, the display probably offers too much data.

The suspension tune does raise questions only a road drive can answer. The previous editions were tightly-sprung, but this one’s ultimate suspension tune is something else again; to me it seems is very much on the edge. I suspect it would prove too unyielding for daily circumstances. If were one to take it out for a burl on a bumpy wet road, you’d really have to keep your wits about you, that’s for sure.

The day was overseen by Mike Eady and his Track Experience driver coaching team. Mike’s a good mate and a well-known racer. He reckoned the FL5 to be rather more brittle in its ultimate setting than his historic 1990s’ NZ Touring Car Championship-dominating E36 BMW race car.

Pukekohe’s bumps are infamous; they’re especially obvious on its toughest right-handers - the mountain curve before the finish line then the next section immediately after that all but hugs the horse track boundary fence.

The cars were up to ‘mumblemumble’ speed then - we were asked to stick below 160kmh, but it’s hard to hold a Type R back; getting it stoked up takes no effort at all.

Mike had warned that, on the optimal race line, the car would become busy was an understatement; it was at point of skittering across the imperfections.

Not dangerously, but enough to focus attention, with enough harshness to bring stutter into conversation. Honda’s contention is that this new model’s design philosophy is about being the fastest and delivering an addicted and secure feel. It did all of that, but in respect to the last part?

Well, we were finding the edge of the envelope. I wondered if, by then, the aero addenda plastered all over the body where keeping it from flying off. Save for the gigantic spoiler on the back, this one is a bit less festooned with wind-grabbing and deflecting bits than the the last, but apparently for better effect. Honda claims the Type R is the only car in its class which generates downforce at speed to help improve stability and performance.

Just as the engine’s bite has altered over the generations, so has its soundtrack. Honda’s just one of many playing with artificial augmentation, in this case with the employment of an Active Sound Control (ASC). The end result is a bit odd; only by standing trackside do you understand how little of the very little of the thick, buzzy growl resonating around the cabin comes out of the triple exhaust and into the outdoors. That it quite different to, say, a Hyundai N car, which are as barking outside as in.

The big advancement is with the Individual mode, which allows a driver to pick and choose the various adjustable dynamic attributes and then customise them.

That it is such a finely-honed machine might bypass some buyers, because even to those of us who make a living writing about cars, it’s frighteningly technical. What it all boils down to is that it’s a model that is set to be far more astonishing when you're having a bit of fun behind the wheel than you might ever imagine it could be. And also one that demands driver respect. I was so pleased the rain that was forecast for Pukekohe stayed away.

The provision of a Comfort mode on a car such as this might seem an example of dark Japanese humour and, assuredly, when this setting was enacted – mainly for the first lap out and the cool down run back to the pits – though it is a bit more cushioned and quieter, it hardly regresses to limo-like state.

People like hot hatches because they tend to be more affordable than outright sports cars and are also more practical. At $69,000, the Civic R now is $6000 more expensive than its predecessor, but it does have more kit, including a full strength of Honda Sensing safety fare, up to point where it is the first Honda here with traffic sign recognition.

It also delivers with a five doors and a rear bench, but is now downgraded from being a five-seater to a four. The addition of a cupholder between the outboard passengers in the back means there’s no room for a ‘third’ in between. The boot is reasonably big, and the lid isn’t too heavy to lift even with that giant hoop atop the lid.

So, it’s fit for the family. Yet that’s just to get it into a household. Really, this car is dedicated to just one person. The driver.