Turbos have played their part. Slippy diffs, clever torsion beam rear axles, and semi-slick tyres, too. But none of those quite as decisively, it seems to me.
Engaging with a powerful, angrily forthcoming, slightly unruly combustion engine that feels close enough to you spatially to be almost on your lap and exclusively drives the front axle (also the nearest to you) – all via three pedals and a manual shifter – seems to me just about the irreducible definition of the hot hatchback experience.
It’s a test of your skill, timing, judgement and mechanical affinity – one that’s engrossing of body and mind, and totally absorbing.
Narrowly but clearly enough, I think the Civic Type R represents this better than the Ford. Even so many years after this car abandoned normal aspiration, the Civic’s slightly oversquare-cylindered four-pot turbo remains an exceptional performance engine. Balanced and free-revving.
Torquey, but thriving when extended. Dramatic and lively, yet still tame enough to respond precisely and behave itself under your right foot when you need it to, and not to feel remotely like a blunt instrument.
The Focus’s longer-stroke 2.3 makes a bigger slug of low-rpm torque so it feels more urgent right away, without a downshift, but it’s slightly laggier in its throttle response and lazier-revving beyond 5000rpm. You would expect Honda, at the height of its powers, to do the better job under the bonnet than Ford with a car like this. It clearly has.
