► The new Honda Prelude driven in the South of France
► Now a hybrid with simulated gearshift tech
► Available to order from next month
What a relief. A brand-new car launch in 2025 that isn’t an SUV. Crossovers have earned their place as the practical answer to modern life, but the homogeneity has dulled the landscape. The arrival of the Honda Prelude feels like a welcome palate cleanser – a rare return to something low-slung and elegant.
It’s not hard to remember the last time a mainstream maker took such a gamble. Back in 1990, when the coupe was supposedly dead, Vauxhall did it with the Calibra and briefly restarted the genre. The new Prelude probably won’t spark a renaissance – the world’s changed too much – but it could still become a quiet surprise judging from the internet’s reaction. Given how much online affection the nameplate attracts, Honda’s cautious UK allocation of 500 cars a year may look either beautifully judged or woefully timid by 2026.
And what a name to exhume. It’s been a quarter of a century since the last Prelude bowed out; most of today’s likely buyers were still at school. Yet the badge still carries weight, especially here at CAR, where LJK Setright once waxed lyrical about the engineering soul of his own Preludes. He’d have approved of this car’s intent: to make progress feel elegant rather than frenetic.
Should you buy a Honda Prelude? If you crave a coupe that values balance, civility and design integrity over fireworks, the Prelude is a rare modern indulgence worth considering. Find out how we test cars to see why you can trust us.
At a glance
Pros: refreshing shape in SUV sea, crisp handling, convincing hybrid refinement
Cons: modest pace, tight rear space, price might be an issue
What’s new?
This is officially called the Prelude e:HEV, Honda’s first purpose-built two-door coupe in a generation. The last Prelude bowed out in 2001, and while the futuristic CR-Z briefly kept the flame alive in the 2010s, the gap has felt long. Honda has always used the Prelude name as a showcase for its most advanced engineering, and this sixth generation continues that theme – just in hybrid form.
The look is deliberately clean and timeless. Project leader Tomoyuki Yamagami describes it as ‘low and wide, inspired by gliders,’ with ‘no gimmicks.’ You can see that in the graceful surfacing, the double-bubble roof, and the way light runs along its flanks. There’s proper aero thinking beneath the beauty too: a ribbed front under-spoiler guides air beneath the car, while the flat-tailed bootlid generates mild downforce for high-speed stability.
It sits on the same Honda Architecture as the current Civic but uses a bespoke suspension tune with dual-axis front struts, multi-link rear, and adaptive dampers derived from the Civic Type R. The wheelbase and suspension geometry has been tailored for what Honda calls ‘the joy of the glide.’ Brembo brakes and 19-inch alloys complete the stance.
Under the bonnet, the Prelude pairs a 2.0-litre direct-injection Atkinson-cycle engine with two electric motors in a full-hybrid e:HEV system producing 181bhp and 232lb ft. Power goes to the front wheels through Honda’s ingenious S+ Shift system – a world first that overlays eight virtual gear steps on top of the hybrid’s single-speed drive, complete with rev-matched downshifts and engine-note tuning through Active Sound Control. It’s the hybrid for people who still like to feel something mechanical happening.
Physically, the Prelude feels small and tidy – a blessed relief amid the bloat of modern cars – yet it’s a genuine 2+2 with passable rear seats. From the Italicised Prelude script on the tail to the blue-painted Brembos, the detailing feels confident, considered and refreshingly unshouty.
What are the specs?
The Prelude has always shared DNA with Honda’s mainstream models, and this one is no exception. It rides on the Civic’s Honda Architecture platform, trimmed for a shorter wheelbase and lighter body to sharpen its reflexes. The engineering brief, says Yamagami, was to make it ‘a car that flows – not one that fights.’
Most of the time it’s the e-motor doing the work, but a clutch locks the petrol engine directly to the wheels under heavier loads. ‘It’s effectively one top gear,’ Yamagami explains, ‘divided into eight virtual steps in S+ Shift mode.’
Underneath, the Prelude borrows hardware from the Civic Type R – including its dual-axis front struts, multi-link rear and adaptive dampers – but with softer springs and roll rates. ‘It’s tuned for real roads, not racetracks,’ Yamagami says. ‘We wanted precision, but also grace.’
The adaptive dampers link to four drive modes – Comfort, GT, Sport and Individual – which vary steering weight, throttle, damping and sound. The engine note is genuine too, simply amplified as the modes progress from calm to spirited.
UK buyers get one well-equipped model, priced around £40,950. Standard kit includes 19-inch alloys, Brembos, adaptive suspension, Honda ‘Sensing’ driver aids, Bose audio and full wireless smartphone integration. Options are limited to paint and accessories – everything else is standard, as it should be.
How does it drive?
What the Prelude isn’t is a sports car – and that’s precisely the point. It’s agile, composed and quietly rewarding rather than overtly quick. The hybrid powertrain delivers smooth, linear shove; acceleration is purposeful rather than pulse-quickening. Yet through corners it reveals genuine balance, with steering that’s clean, consistent and typically Honda in its honesty.
I’ve now driven it properly, away from the track and onto the crumbling mountain roads above Nice – surfaces as battered as any B-road in Britain. Here the Prelude shows its true depth. Ride quality is supple, settled, never brittle. We’re used to ‘sporty’ being shorthand for stiff, but Honda clearly didn’t get that memo. There’s genuine compliance in both primary and secondary ride, the adaptive dampers breathing with the surface rather than fighting it.
Find a stretch of clear tarmac and the Prelude builds pace with quiet determination. No, it’s not visceral like a GR86 or ballistic like a Type R, but it’s brisk enough to keep a grin in play. The figures – 0-62 mph in 8.2 seconds – don’t tell the full story, because progress here is about accessibility. You can go quickly without thinking about it, surfing a wave of seamless torque and precise responses that never overwhelm.
And when the corners link together, the chassis starts to sing. The Civic DNA is obvious – keen front end, linear steering – but the tuning is more fluid. Body control is good, allowing the car to settle and flow through bends with composure. Once clear of Provence’s lumbering traffic, the Prelude found its rhythm: effortless, absorbing, a reminder why coupes still matter.
The S+ Shift system adds just enough theatre. Pull a paddle and you feel a tangible rise and fall in revs, a faint nudge of inertia that mimics a good dual-clutch gearbox. Downshifts bring a subtle throttle blip and genuine engine braking, creating a sense of connection most hybrids lack. It won’t fool your stopwatch, but it might fool your senses – and that’s enough.
Overall, it’s a car that tracks the road faithfully. There’s agility without edge, composure without compromise. Honda has nailed that elusive midpoint between comfort and control – a dynamic equilibrium that makes this Prelude less a sports car and more a modern grand tourer for people who still love to drive.
What about the interior?
Inside, the Prelude feels familiar to anyone who’s driven a Civic, but calmer and more considered. The low-set dashboard stretches across the cabin and is topped by a crisp 10.2-inch digital cluster that morphs from power meter to rev counter when S+ Shift is active. The 9.0-inch touchscreen handles navigation and entertainment, with physical knobs for climate control – small mercies we’ll always applaud.
Material quality is excellent, and the two-tone white-and-blue or black-and-blue trims lift the mood. The front seats are superb, with firmer bolsters for the driver and softer cushioning for the passenger. The Bose eight-speaker system adds welcome warmth, and there’s an air of quiet quality that feels very Honda.
Honda’s infotainment software is fine rather than flashy, and most owners will default to Apple CarPlay or Android Auto. There are neat energy-flow graphics showing what the hybrid system’s up to – you’ll glance once, nod approvingly and never touch them again.
Practicality is mixed. Visibility isn’t great – the thick front pillars make it tricky to place in tight city streets, so kerbed alloys are a risk. But the hatchback boot redeems it, with enough space for two empty-nesters and their luggage, and folding rear seats that expand capacity to an un-sporty but useful 663 litres.
Before you buy
Honda opens the UK order bank in mid-November 2025, with first deliveries due spring 2026. Pricing stands at £40,950, there’s just one trim level – fully loaded – and allocation will be tight: roughly 500 cars a year after an initial 400-unit run for 2026.
As for a faster version? Don’t count on it, but don’t dismiss it entirely. Engineers quietly admit the chassis could handle more power; for now, a Prelude Type R remains in the ‘never say never’ category.
Rival coupes are almost extinct. The BMW 2 Series is the only direct alternative, with its rear-drive layout but none of the Honda’s hybrid serenity. The Toyota GR86 has vanished, the Mazda MX-5 RF is smaller and less sophisticated. A lightly used Alpine A110 costs similar money, is infinitely more desirable, and will depreciate less steeply, but the Prelude answers with modern tech, refinement and daily usability.
Verdict: Honda Prelude
Honda has built a car of delightful contradiction: a hybrid that wants you to feel, not just save fuel. It’s quick enough, beautifully made, and rewarding in the quiet way great Hondas used to be. This isn’t nostalgia, it’s restoration – of proportion, of control weights, of that subtle dialogue between driver and machine.
In a world drowning in SUVs, the Prelude feels like a message in a bottle – proof that there’s still space for cars built to please their drivers first. The coupe market may be on life support, and while this won’t revive it, the Prelude shows there’s life beyond the default. Its brilliance is quiet rather than loud: it hides its cleverness under a bushel, goes about its business with calm assurance, and feels all the more satisfying for it.
It fits perfectly within the lineage of Preludes that came before it – elegant, intelligent, and just a little contrarian. For those who take the plunge, it will likely prove a long, rewarding relationship rather than a fling. And yes, I suspect Setright would have approved – serenely, with smugly and probably from the outside lane.