Is it just me, or does being a young JDM fanatic in the 2020s kind of suck? It turns out every oddball car we loved is just as cool in person as it was on Best Motoring or Gran Turismo, and prices soared to the moon. Earlier GT-Rs are just now recovering as R34 GT-Rs breach supercar territory. Toyota Supras and Acura NSXs have been pricey for some time. And yet, here sits the little Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution that hasn’t quite reached the stars.
Decades on, it seems like the JDM craze never struck old Lancer Evos over the head quite as hard as it did its peers, which is odd considering its performance and rich rallying lineage–ahem, Tommi-freaking-Mäkinen famously drove one and even gave his name to a special edition model. But thanks to the generous owner of this white 1996 Lancer Evo IV GSR, I learned just how deserving classic Evos are of greater recognition and if Mitsubishi actually cooked up one of the best used car bargains nearly 30 years in the making.
The Other AWD Racer From Japan
This other all-wheel-drive, motorsports-derived car tells its own tales of running in the ’90s. The Lancer Evo’s lineage is gilded with motorsports victories akin to fellow titans like the Skyline GT-R and archrival Subaru Impreza WRX and, at one point, was a dominant force in rallying. Evo IVs, with an estimated 13,275 cars produced (12,286 GSR and 989 RS models) from 1996 to 1998, marked a notable chapter for Evo lore.
The venerable 4G63T turbo-four was rotated 180 degrees, positioning it more towards the passenger side to improve weight distribution and to fight torque steer. This placement in the engine bay would persist until the Evo’s end in 2015.
As another first, the Evo IV introduced Active Yaw Control, a primitive torque vectoring system utilizing steering angle, throttle input, and g-force sensors to control torque distribution between the rear wheels. This generation also marked the beginning of Lancer Evos rocking some form of triangular-ish taillights, a trend that stuck for years to come.
Rowdy and Rapid
Let it be known how delightful the 4G63T is, even in a geriatric, lightly modified state. This example rocks a heart transplant from an Evo V, which made the same power but is stronger, with longer-duration cams, lighter pistons, and (supposedly) resolved reliability quirks, including crank walk and issues with the IV’s smaller fuel injectors. Besides that, there’s nothing more than an ECU tune, an HKS cold air intake, an HKS blow-off valve for the stock twin-scroll turbo, an HKS exhaust, and a larger radiator.
By the way, if a larger radiator still isn’t enough to beat back heat soak woes, there are intercooler sprayers beneath the front license plate mount, operated by a toggle on the center console. Rad!
The owner guesses 300 crank horsepower, which might even be lowballing with how strong it feels. Boost creeps in around 3,000 rpm, with full tilt arriving just below four grand and pulling effortlessly to the 7,000 rpm redline. It pulls fiercely and surprisingly smoothly in boost, but there’s still ample torque to carry you toward that threshold when out of boost. Dare I say this Evo IV might be as quick as Token’s 1995 R33 Skyline GT-R, which I previously reviewed. That thing made a guesstimated 80 to 100 more hp to the wheels. So, what gives?
Try the shortest gearing you’ll ever feel in a stock manual–you’re always shifting this five-speed around, even on slower roads. Or try the Evo IV’s roughly 2,965-pound curb weight. GSRs with a sunroof barely crested 3,000 pounds, while RS models almost touched 2,700, meaning all Evo IVs weighed less than the R32 GT-R. Hell, they weigh less than today’s Lotus Emira and Toyota GR Corolla.
I can’t recall a car of this formula under 3,000 pounds debuting in my lifetime, yet here’s the Evo IV, weighing within a stone’s throw of a Subaru BRZ tS and routing more grunt through shorter gears. Such a recipe lends old Evos to being unquestionably adept at backroad dumbassery.
All The World’s A Tarmac Rally Stage
The Evo IV lives for the tarmac rally. No, it craves it. It darts into bends and changes direction with an eagerness seldom found in other sport compacts, new or old. The formula has been repeated for decades, but there’s no ignoring an old Evo’s fleet-footedness.
I can only imagine the experience on a circuit, especially with this car’s upgraded 1.5-way front and rear diffs plucked from the race-ready Evo IV RS. It turns in quickly, takes a set, and holds its line confidently through the twisties, and it does so with just a faint splash of body roll. It’s not excessive but rather enough to get a much-appreciated sense of weight transfer.
Psst. That means you can easily wag its tail at the mere thought of trail braking or Scandi flicking.
I only wished for the Brembos from later Evos, a common OEM+ upgrade, or new pads, stainless lines, and fluid. The stock brakes are ample for mountain runs with near-stock power, but I’d worry about on-track longevity or if an owner decides to throw the full Mine’s catalog under that vented hood.
The steering is a wonderful example of modern-classic sports car steering, but not all that exceptional. This example had a smidge of on-center play due to tired componentry, so I can’t critique too harshly. But there’s definitely some good heft once loaded up. Steering feel under load is present but not tantalizingly so. The steering rack’s speed felt a tad slower than a GT-R’s, but it’s still plenty quick for tackling hairpins without ever being close to crossing arms. You could say the steering isn’t quite transcendent, but it’s appropriate and more than analog enough.
Still A Lancer
Yup, it’s still a four-door, five-seat econobox with a sizable trunk. The tiny footprint of older Evos, smaller than today’s Civic or Corolla, means it ping-pongs around urban centers and parking lots without a second thought. Its expansive greenhouse, like every other Radwood-era sport compact, yields spectacular visibility, although the wing can create a goofy blindspot over your shoulder.
These things are practical with a capital “P,” and one could easily use it as their NPC-mobile, as the original owners likely did on occasion. There are hidden cupholders, numerous little storage cubbies, automatic climate controls in GSR models with a nifty LCD display, and a folding center armrest for rear seat occupants.
However, anyone larger than five-foot-ten and 180 pounds, beware. I call it cozy. Bigger folks will call it claustrophobic. The tight rear seat legroom and near-sub-compact levels of shoulder room are evidence. And that’s before you sit in the Recaros, which feature leg bolsters reinforced with a metal frame, ensuring they’ll never really wear in.
OK, so I lied a little. Size-wise, it’s practical with a lowercase “p.” Sit in one before you buy.
Interior materials are as expected for ’90s Mitsubishi. There’s cheap-o plastic everywhere, and the fabrics seem more susceptible to tears than other cars I’ve seen from the same era and mileage. Watch out for those seams! At least there are hardly any interior rattles on this 94,000-mile tester, but that riotous 4G63T can buzz a little at idle and low rpm.
But you know what? For the money? That’s OK.
An Underrated Bargain
Without the same pop culture notoriety and overbuilt, near-supercar-like engineering of its colleagues, bang-for-buck became the JDM Evos’ current claim to fame. You can score a decent Evo IV for well below $20K, less than half what you’d pay for the cheapest R32 and R33 GT-Rs being sold today. A minty-fresh one with low miles sits comfortably between $30K to $35K, with $40K being the upper echelon. Mint Evo IV money also buys decent examples of Vs and VIs, should you wish.
But, I get it. That’s still a lot for an old Mitsu with such a short run that spare parts become rare trading cards. You could score an 86 or BRZ for that coin, or perhaps later sport compacts like VA-generation WRXs or front-drive Focus and Fiesta STs. And you wouldn’t necessarily be wrong to choose so. However, there’s something missing from these more sensible choices.
Evos are just different. A little on the rowdier edge. A pinch more vigor. You can dash like a Skyline and dance like a Miata, and that whimsical passion feels more tangible in an old Evo than in any of today’s offerings, all with that rallying heritage looming overhead. If that doesn’t scream cool, I don’t know what does.
It may sound like I’m waxing poetically for Mitsubishi motorsports history gone by, but you don’t buy cars of this genre because they’re objectively better or make more sense. You buy them because you want them, and given the experiences a Lancer Evolution IV can deliver at the prices they command, it’s hard not to.
| 1996 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution IV GSR Specs | |
|---|---|
| Estimated Price Today | $15,000 to $35,000 (based on trim and condition) |
| Powertrain | 2.0-liter turbocharged I4 | five-speed manual | all-wheel drive |
| Horsepower | 276 @ 6,500 rpm (approx. 300 as-tested) |
| Torque | 260 lb-ft @ 3,000 rpm |
| Seating Capacity | 5 |
| Curb Weight | 2,965 pounds |
| Quick Take | Proper sports car speed and agility for a fraction of the cost of other JDM heroes. |
| Score | 8.5/10 |
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