There was something special about the 2000s.
The world was changing rapidly. Smartphones were beginning to appear, social media was taking its first steps, CDs were slowly giving way to MP3s and the roads were filled with cars that, at the time, simply felt normal.
Twenty years on, many of them feel anything but normal.
The 2000s gave us some of the most memorable performance cars, hot hatches, supercars and everyday machines of the modern era. It was a period where manufacturers were still willing to take risks, engineers were finding new ways to extract more performance from internal combustion engines, and the divide between the cars we could realistically afford and the cars we dreamed about seemed particularly exciting.
Some have become bona fide classics. Others have become surprisingly desirable. A few remain underappreciated.
So, 20 years later, which cars from the 2000s still stand out to the Re:Fuel Team?
The BMW E46 (a.k.a I played too much Need for Speed)
Few cars have aged as gracefully as the E46 BMW M3. Introduced in 2000, it combined a 3.2-litre naturally aspirated straight-six producing around 338bhp with rear-wheel drive and a six-speed manual gearbox. With an 8,000rpm redline and beautifully balanced chassis, it delivered the kind of involvement that is becoming increasingly difficult to find in modern performance cars.
It was also remarkably usable. The E46 M3 was fast enough to feel genuinely special, yet comfortable enough to use every day, making it one of those rare cars that could work equally well as a daily driver, weekend toy or long-distance GT. Its combination of understated styling, compact proportions and mechanical character has helped it age exceptionally well.
Then came the CSL. Losing around 110kg through extensive weight-saving measures, while gaining more power and a sharper chassis, the M3 CSL took the E46 formula to another level. Its carbon-fibre roof and famous carbon airbox made it one of the most memorable performance cars of the decade — and helped cement the E46 M3 as one of the defining BMWs of the 2000s.
Twenty years later, the E46 M3 is no longer simply an old performance car. It has become a modern classic, representing a time when naturally aspirated engines, manual gearboxes and driver involvement were still at the heart of the performance-car formula.
The Nissan GT-R r35 (a.k.a Everyone’s go to in Forza)
When Nissan revealed the R35 GT-R in 2007, the performance-car world changed. After years of anticipation surrounding the Skyline GT-R name, the R35 arrived as a completely new machine, combining a twin-turbocharged 3.8-litre V6 with sophisticated four-wheel drive and a dual-clutch transmission. With around 473bhp when it launched, its performance was astonishing for the time.
What made the GT-R particularly remarkable was how accessible that performance felt. It wasn’t a delicate supercar that needed careful treatment — it was brutally quick, technologically advanced and capable of putting its power down in almost any conditions. It quickly gained a reputation for embarrassing cars costing considerably more, earning the nickname “Godzilla” and turning the GT-R into a global performance icon.
Unlike many cars from the era, the R35 also had remarkable longevity. Nissan continued developing the platform for well over a decade, steadily increasing power and refining its technology while retaining the core formula that made the original so special.
Twenty years later, the R35 GT-R represents an important moment in performance-car history. It showed that cutting-edge technology could deliver supercar-rivalling performance without an exotic badge or enormous price tag — and helped cement the GT-R as one of the defining Japanese performance cars of its generation.
The Ferrari F430 (a.k.a Baby’s First Dream Car)
The Ferrari F430 was one of the defining supercars of the 2000s. Introduced in 2004 as the successor to the 360 Modena, it brought a more aggressive design, a 4.3-litre naturally aspirated V8 and around 483bhp to the road. With its mid-engine layout and rear-wheel drive, it delivered the sort of performance that made every journey feel like an occasion.
It was also a significant car for Ferrari technologically. The F430 introduced the now-famous Manettino steering-wheel control, allowing drivers to adjust the car’s electronic systems and behaviour depending on how they wanted to drive. It could be relatively composed on the road, yet transform into something far more focused when pushed.
And then there was the soundtrack. The naturally aspirated V8 delivered the high-revving character and unmistakable exhaust note that enthusiasts had come to expect from Ferrari, making the F430 feel every bit as special as its badge suggested.
Twenty years later, the F430 sits at an interesting point in Ferrari’s history. It was sophisticated enough to feel modern when new, but still relied on a naturally aspirated V8, conventional rear-wheel drive and a level of driver involvement that is becoming increasingly rare. For many enthusiasts, it represents one of the last generations of Ferrari before turbocharging and hybrid technology fundamentally changed the company’s performance cars.
The Audi R8 (a.k.a the car that made you fantasise about a Gated manual)
When the Audi R8 arrived in 2006, it immediately changed what a supercar could be. Here was a genuine mid-engined exotic from a manufacturer better known for executive saloons, family estates and quattro rallying — yet somehow it looked completely at home alongside Ferraris and Lamborghinis. With its low stance, wide proportions and unmistakable side blades, the R8 was dramatic without being ostentatious.
The original V8 was already a fantastic car, but it was the arrival of the V10 that turned the R8 into something truly special. Sharing its 5.2-litre naturally aspirated engine with the Lamborghini Gallardo, the V10 produced more than 500bhp and revved with an urgency that modern turbocharged engines simply cannot replicate. There was no waiting for boost and no artificial soundtrack — just the instant response of ten cylinders breathing ever harder as the revs climbed.
And that engine sounded magnificent. At low revs, it had the deep, mechanical rumble you would expect from a large-capacity performance engine. Open the throttle and the character changed completely, building into a metallic, high-pitched howl as it raced towards the redline. Keep your foot in and the noise became an event in itself — the sort of soundtrack that made tunnels, bridges and even an otherwise unremarkable stretch of road worth seeking out.
What made the R8 even more remarkable was how usable it was. The quattro four-wheel-drive system provided confidence, the cabin was genuinely comfortable and visibility was surprisingly good for a mid-engined supercar. You could drive one to work, take it across Europe or spend a Sunday morning chasing your favourite roads. It had the drama of a supercar without demanding the compromises that often came with one.
Twenty years later, the original R8 feels like a snapshot of a very different era. It arrived before turbocharging and hybridisation became the norm, when a manufacturer could still take a Lamborghini-derived V10, put it into a relatively understated Audi and send it onto the road. The V10 R8 wasn’t just fast — it was theatrical, usable and gloriously mechanical.
And that naturally aspirated V10? You could argue they don’t make them like that anymore. In fact, they probably never will again.
The E60 M5 (a.k.a the Family Formula 1 Car)
If the E46 M3 represented the perfect balance of performance and usability, the E60 M5 took the idea of a performance saloon to an entirely different level. Introduced in 2004, it looked relatively restrained — especially by modern standards — but underneath that understated bodywork sat one of the most extraordinary engines BMW has ever put into a road car.
That engine was the S85, a 5.0-litre naturally aspirated V10 producing around 500bhp and capable of revving beyond 8,000rpm. Derived from BMW’s Formula 1 ambitions of the era, it was an engine that seemed almost absurd in a four-door saloon. The power delivery was wonderfully linear, building relentlessly as the revs climbed, accompanied by an increasingly ferocious V10 soundtrack.
And then there was the sheer absurdity of it. The E60 M5 could comfortably carry five people and a boot full of luggage, yet it could also accelerate from 0–60mph in around 4.5 seconds and continue towards 200mph when unrestricted. It was a proper executive saloon that happened to have the heart of a supercar.
The E60 wasn’t perfect — the SMG automated manual gearbox could be divisive, and running costs are certainly not for the faint-hearted — but those quirks are arguably part of its character. This was a period when BMW was willing to build something because it could, rather than because it necessarily made perfect commercial sense.
Twenty years later, the E60 M5 has become increasingly appreciated for exactly that reason. It represents an era when manufacturers were still willing to put enormous, naturally aspirated engines into relatively ordinary-looking road cars. A 5.0-litre V10 M5 sounds ridiculous today — and that’s precisely why it remains so memorable.
The Honda S2000 (a.k.a The VTEC Convertible)
Technically, the Honda S2000 arrived in 1999. It belongs in the 2000s conversation, and I will not be taking any further questions regarding this matter. Argue with a brick wall. Carrying on…
The S2000 was a brilliant example of Honda doing what Honda did best: taking engineering to an almost obsessive level. At the heart of the car was a 2.0-litre naturally aspirated VTEC four-cylinder producing around 237bhp in European specification. That might not sound remarkable by today’s standards, but the way it delivered that power was anything but ordinary. The engine could rev to more than 9,000rpm, with the famous VTEC transition turning the character of the car from relatively civilised roadster into something considerably more frantic.
And then there was the gearbox. The six-speed manual was short, precise and famously satisfying to use, while rear-wheel drive and near-perfect weight distribution gave the S2000 the foundations of a proper driver’s car. It wasn’t about enormous power or blistering straight-line acceleration. It was about momentum, balance and using every last revolution of that engine.
Part of the S2000’s appeal was its simplicity. There were no enormous turbochargers, four-wheel-drive systems or complicated hybrid powertrains. You had a lightweight roadster, a screaming naturally aspirated engine, a manual gearbox and a winding road. It was a formula that didn’t need much improving.
Twenty years later, the S2000 has become increasingly sought after, particularly as cars with high-revving naturally aspirated engines and manual gearboxes become harder to find. Its reputation has grown from being a very good sports car into something approaching cult status.
And perhaps that’s the greatest compliment you can give it. The S2000 wasn’t designed to be the fastest car on the road. It was designed to make the road feel better.
For enthusiasts who grew up during the decade, these cars are now reaching an interesting point.The cars that once appeared in magazines, video games and bedroom posters are becoming old enough to qualify for classic status, while the people who dreamed about owning them are now old enough to actually buy them.
That’s why you increasingly see E46 M3s, Honda S2000s, Subaru Imprezas, Mitsubishi Evos, Audi R8s and early Nissan GT-Rs being treated with the same reverence once reserved for older classics.
Their values may change. Their collectability may change. But their cultural significance is already established.
And perhaps that’s the real test of a great car.
Not how fast it was when it was new. Not how expensive it was. But whether people still get excited when they see one twenty years later.
The 2000s gave us plenty of cars that pass that test.
And if you want to see what the next generation of classics looks like, there’s a pretty good place to start:
Your local Cars & Coffee, Re:Fuel.