Nissan GT-R Production Has Ended, and This Is the Final R35
The longest-running GT-R generation concludes its 18-year run as a Midnight Purple T-Spec model, but this isn’t goodbye for good.
2025 nissan gtr production end
Nissan
The last R35-generation Nissan GT-R has rolled off the production line.
The final GT-R—a T-Spec model painted Midnight Purple—is a fitting send-off.
Over the R35’s nearly two-decade run, Nissan built 48,000 copies.
Nissan has finally built the last R35 GT-R. The car, a T-Spec model in Midnight Purple, bookends a surprisingly lengthy production run of 18 years, far more than any other Nissan to wear the GT-R badge. A T-Spec is a nice send-off for the breed, splitting the difference between the standard car and the track-focused NISMO model, with 565 hp from a twin-turbocharged V-6 with balanced internals, lightweight alloys, and heritage colors that pay homage to past GT-Rs.
Reflecting on the R35
Looking back along the lineage of the GT-R nameplate, each generation has its own personality. The original (the boxy Hakosuka) is partway between a Datsun 510 and a BMW E9. The R32 Skyline GT-R of the late ’80s and early 1990s is the touring-car monster. The R34, the last manual-transmission GT-R, is the Fast and the Furious film star.
Nissan
The R35 lasted longer than all of them, introduced as a cutting-edge technological powerhouse, then aging into an old-school brawler. Nearly two decades is a shockingly long time to remain relevant, but the NISMO variant in particular could still show up at a track day and blow the doors off far more exotic fare. Australian racing mags nicknamed the R32 GT-R “Godzilla,” making the R35 a sort of Mechagodzilla. It wasn’t cutting edge anymore, but it could still stomp your city flat.
Nissan built some 48,000 R35 GT-Rs over the entire production run, with roughly a third of those sold into the home Japanese market. The car evolved as the years progressed, with early ones having the tendency to lurch and ride stiffly like racing machines, later ones perhaps offering too much polish, and the outgoing model feeling a bit like driving your own giant Gundam space war robot. There were complaints that this generation of GT-R could feel artificial, but the last of them had aged into a character of their own.
As a race car in Japan’s top-flight Super GT series, the GT-R performed admirably, winning five GT500 class championships and three GT300 championships. It was also a regular presence at the Nürburgring, baiting Porsche with ever faster times. Arguably, the world would probably not care as much about ‘Ring lap times if not for the GT-R’s heyday.
Besides being a showcase for clever all-wheel drive and slick traction-enhancing electronic trickery, the R35’s GT-R had a bit of mysticism at its heart. Each one of those 48K V-6s was individually built by one of a small group of specialized technicians working in a clean room in Nissan’s factory. It was a prized role, each one of them referred to as Takumi—the Japanese word for craftsman—and each signed their work, just like what’s done for the best engines in Mercedes-AMG products. As part of the final dyno tuning, a Nissan Takumi would place his hand on the engine, looking to feel for any hard-to-define imperfections.
Nissan
Nissan insists that the GT-R nameplate will return again in the future, perhaps in some kind of electrified form. But the company is not in the greatest financial shape these days, and a flagship supercar-fighter is not high on the list of priorities. The Nissa Z now soldiers along alone, carrying the brand’s performance heritage.
It’s hard not to feel a little sadness at bidding goodbye to the R35 GT-R. True, from behind the wheel, it could sometimes feel a little robotic. Even so, as the car equivalent of a giant titanium mutant iguana with radioactive breath, it was not without its charms. Rest well, Mechagodzilla GT-R.
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Lettermark
Brendan McAleer
Contributing Editor
Brendan McAleer is a freelance writer and photographer based in North Vancouver, B.C., Canada. He grew up splitting his knuckles on British automobiles, came of age in the golden era of Japanese sport-compact performance, and began writing about cars and people in 2008. His particular interest is the intersection between humanity and machinery, whether it is the racing career of Walter Cronkite or Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki’s half-century obsession with the Citroën 2CV. He has taught both of his young daughters how to shift a manual transmission and is grateful for the excuse they provide to be perpetually buying Hot Wheels.
