I’m amazed by what Honda has been able to do with its Global Compact Platform. It underpins the Civic and the CR-V, but has its toughest duty with the RSX. Any faults in the basic structure or layout would be magnified in this application. Hard use and performance expectations can cause a poorly executed vehicle to lay down and die in the middle of the street, or a merely adequate one to irritate its driver to the point of frustration. The RSX does neither.

At first, the ride seems unduly harsh, lacking in the supple movements necessary to keep tires in touch with the road. Time lessens this impression, but never fully eradicates it, proving that the RSX is almost as capable of dealing with the daily commute as it is of dispatching freeway on-ramps or gathering speed. Granted, the MacPherson strut helm is slightly less communicative than the double wishbone design used on the Integra; which it replaces. But the complainers forget the Integra only reached its peak only after infusions of aftermarket parts and cubic dollars. It wasn’t as composed as is the RSX from the factory.

Where the RSX really shines, however, is under the hood. The 200-hp 2.0-liter four is a gem, the gearbox a revelation. No Honda or Acura in my memory has ever shifted this well. Clutch take-up was nearly seamless, and each of the six gears engaged with a light firmness. Even the shift knob, a silver-pewter device with a golf ball-like partial rubber coating, added to the sensation. The only downside were the pedals. I would want the brake and throttle pedals closer together in width and depth to make heel-and-toe downshifts easier.

Like all sport coupes, the back seat is for children, dogs, or luggage. Small ones. It’s not meant for adults of any size. In the past, this shortcoming would have been answered by the addition of a four-door version, but that won’t happen with the RSX. So make your friends drive if you have to go as a group. It’ll be worth it.