For 2026, the Honda Prelude returns for the first time in nearly 25 years, exhumed from the late 20th century, when coupes were coupes, buttons clicked, and the most advanced software in your car was the radio, which mercifully never needed an update.

Naturally, I approached the new 2026 Honda Prelude with suspicion. Because nostalgia is a warm, comforting lie, like believing music was better in your youth or that politicians ever knew what they were doing. Car companies resurrect old names all the time, usually slapping them onto something dull and apologetic, then expecting applause. But this? This is different.

This is not Honda’s sports car of old. The automaker considers the 2026 Prelude a grand tourer. And it is, as long as you don’t expect luxury. What you should expect is a compact coupe for people who like their transportation to have a point of view. Honda once owned this territory the way the Italians own red sauce. Then they wandered off into a forest of crossovers and infotainment systems. The new 2026 Prelude finds Honda wandering back out, brushing off the pine needles and getting back to business.

In the finest Honda tradition, the 2026 Prelude looks right. It’s sleek without looking angry, sporty without screaming for attention, and refreshingly free of aerodynamic tchotchkes stapled on for the benefit of drivers who imagine they’re more skilled than Lando or Max. Its design exudes the quiet confidence of a car that knows it doesn’t need fake vents and fanboy styling to get your attention. Park it next to the Civic Type R and the Prelude looks like it’s been to finishing school.

Inside, the surprise isn’t some designer’s fever dream. It’s competence. Everything works, and is where you expect it to be, which in the modern automotive world qualifies as a minor miracle. The seats seem to have been designed by someone who has actually driven a car for more than the length of a pop song, which already puts Honda well ahead of its competition.

That said, perfection is not on the menu. Taller drivers will slide the seat back to accommodate their giraffe-like legs, only to discover the steering wheel stubbornly refuses to come along for some of the ride. Meanwhile, your right leg will make the acquaintance of the hard plastic center console, an introduction neither of you asked for. But this is the inevitable tax you pay for the Prelude’s tidy 178-inch footprint; compactness always collects its pound of flesh somewhere. As for the rear seats, they’re best regarded as an optimistic suggestion and folded flat to enlarge the hatchback’s 15 cubic feet of cargo space, which is just enough room for your luggage and any illusions you had about carrying adults back there.

Thankfully, you don’t need a master’s degree in user interface design to change the temperature. This alone qualifies as a radical act in 2026. And there’s a high-definition 9-inch color touchscreen with wireless Apple CarPlay and Android Auto as well as Google Assistant, Google Maps, Google Play, a Bose audio system, a 10.2-inch digital instrument cluster and USB-C ports.

Mechanically speaking, this wave of misty-eyed nostalgia is assembled from the best bits lying around the Civic aisle of the warehouse. Underneath, it’s a shortened Civic chassis, powered by a Civic Hybrid drivetrain, and suspended by Civic Type R bits. To be fair, Honda has fiddled with all of it, resulting in a Prelude that is spry, polite, and impeccably behaved.

Honda’s fourth-generation, hybrid system cranks out 200 horsepower and 236 pound-feet of torque, which sounds impressive until you realize it’s delivered with all the drama of a municipal bus schedule. There’s no transmission, none at all. Instead, the powertrain drives the axles directly, a solution that’s very efficient There is a rather gimmicky S+ button and paddle shifters that simulates shifting with an eight-speed transmission that it lacks. This sort of deceitfulness is unusual to find in a Honda, especially because its overall performance impact is minimal at best. Even worse is an adjustable regenerative braking system that’s so cumbersome to use, only an engineer could love it.

The chassis is balanced. The suspension manages the remarkable trick of being well-controlled without feeling punitive, unlike, say, the federal government. The Prelude delivers steering that talks in complete sentences and feels like it was tuned by people who understand that enthusiasm is not measured in skid pad numbers. Then there’s its underlying smoothness. Call it electrification, call it modernity. It makes the car feel refined without turning it anesthetized. The powertrain does its work quietly and efficiently, but when you lean on it, the Prelude delivers. That is the important part. It’s fun. But you won’t find it charging Nürburgring laps like a caffeinated lunatic.

Just as with Preludes of the past, the newest one will not frighten Corvettes. It will not rearrange your internal organs. What it will do is make a familiar road feel worth revisiting. It invites the lost art of carrying speed because the car encourages it, not because the spec sheet demands it.

The real triumph here is philosophical. Honda remembered what the Prelude name meant: a promise of what’s to come. A warm-up act for what’s coming next from Honda. The 2026 Honda Prelude is not a rebellion. It is something more unique. It’s nostalgia that serves as a reminder.

2026 Honda Prelude

Base price: $42,000

Powertrain: 2.0-liter, two-motor hybrid

Horsepower/Torque: 200/232 pound-feet

EPA rating (combined city/highway): 44 mpg

Fuel required: Regular

Length/Width/Height: 178/53/74 inches

Ground clearance: 5.3 inches

Cargo capacity: 15 cubic feet

Towing capacity: Not rated

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