Someone's Favorite
When people ask me why I started studying Japanese, usually I say one of a few things. Of course, there’s no one answer, though I do have a clear memory of the announcement of Murakami Haruki’s Killing Commendatore, the unbearable wait for the English version, and the hubristic thought that over the course of the two years delay, I too could learn Japanese. I did not, but I’ve obviously kept with it.
The other answer, is Pokémon.
Pokémon came out in the late 90s, right around when I was born. Sometimes I think of myself as part of the Pokémon Generation. Pokémon was easy to approach, but deep. Pokémon was all-encompassing, of course by design: there were games, there was an anime, there were trading cards, there were toys (and there still are, of all of the above.) While plenty of other games and anime would and continue to captivate me to this day, it seems undeniable to me that Pokémon was the first thing that lead me into this side of pop-culture.
Pokémon feels optimistic to me, open about the possibility of a better world.
Especially as I’ve gotten older, I’ve become somewhat allergic to franchises, to brands. I’ve fallen out of Pokémon—it's been years since I've played one of its games to completion, longer since I've seen a moment of the anime—but it still calls to me. Why? What is so enduring to me about this series that started almost 30 years ago that makes me ready to dive back in at a moment’s notice?
Seemingly everyone knows about Pokémon. Your parents probably know what Pokémon is, or at least recognize Pikachu, who’s assumed a place among the pop culture pantheon alongside only Mario and Goku. Pokémon is a series about kids who catch and train creatures, going on adventures together, often using their Pokémon to battle with one another in competitions, and slowly getting stronger over time. These are not new themes: adventure, friendship, self-improvement. But perhaps they’re so present because they’re continually relevant; even as I move into my thirties, I find myself thinking about these ideas more than ever.
When people are feeling uncharitable, they joke about Pokémon being a series about “dog fighting,” but it’s really about connection. The games were designed around the idea of a portable game console, with the ability to link to one another; not just for competition, but for collaboration, connection. Years before Kojima explored these themes in Death Stranding, they made up the core of the experience in Pokémon, and many of my best memories with the series are about feeling that sense of connection.
Many of the memories I have with Pokémon feel powerful—like it tapped into something essential, revealed something to me in a way that wasn't and couldn't be communicated fully in words.
My interest in Pokémon has waned over time. Soon, Pokémon gave way to Yu-Gi-Oh, to Full Metal Alchemist, to Naruto (which gripped me for much of my adolescence). But that’s one of the things I find comforting about Pokémon: it’s always there. They continue to make new videogames, design new creatures; even though the first years of the series created such abundance you could spend a lifetime in them.
It’s been some years since I’ve played a Pokémon game. Since becoming an adult, I’ve started a couple, but I can’t even remember which was the last I saw the credits roll on. This isn’t limited to Pokémon—all of my videogame playing has shrunk as I've gotten older—but the trend continues here. In fact, I’m not sure when was the last time I even purchased one of the games; maybe 2021? The amount of videogames I play and the time I invest into them has plummeted since my peak, but I still get the itch every once and a while, and Pokémon always sounds like a prime candidate.
The truth is, while a lot of my interest in that sort of thing has waned (though I still watch a lot of anime), it hasn’t disappeared. Yet I felt myself growing apart from the series for years before this. I will still purchase and complete any Zelda game (my true franchise love) they choose to put out, but I’ve let the last few entries in Pokémon pass me by. I scoffed at the latest creatures (An ice cream cone monster? Really?). I felt the move into 3D was a step back from the beautifully-rendered pixel art of the game’s early days. When I did dip my toes into a newer entry, they felt thinner to me, less interesting; eventually, at some point, I’d drift off, and not return.
Since moving to Tokyo, I’ve been thinking about Pokémon a lot more again. It is still omnipresent here. You’re as likely to find a vending machine with a Pikachu wrap as you are with a picture of Shohei Ohtani (nothing could be a higher endorsement of its continued pull). There are tie-in products in the combinis, which often advertise their partnership with Pokémon GO (oh yeah, they’re still doing that here.) If you see someone playing a game on their phone, odds are as likely as anything it’s the new Pokémon trading card game.
I think that’s another part of what I like about Pokémon; Pokémon is for everyone. It is truly a feeling. There’s something cozy in the hard wilderness between towns where most of Pokémon takes place. The music is beautiful. The vistas are diverse and captivating. Each game plays out roughly the same, but sees you starting off from your small town to reaching the top of the competitive battling league, with every stop along the way.
The vibe was so good on this mix, they made a version without music.
I mean, look at this; the SPACE afforded here. The series feels vast and mysterious in a way I'm always trying to remind myself the real world is too.
I have many fond memories of Pokémon, and of course many of the positive associations I have for it are just simple nostalgia, but beyond that many of the memories I have with Pokémon feel powerful—like it tapped into something essential, revealed something to me in a way that wasn't and couldn't be communicated fully in words. In a Frutiger Aero-sense, Pokémon feels optimistic to me, open about the possibility of a better world.
Pokémon feels connected to technology in a special way to me. It is, from the way it was designed, a series about connecting with other people through technology. That's another part of what makes it special to me: it reminds me of when the internet and computers felt like a place for fun, rather than primarily a rat-race in a casino with a free little library attached.
For the 25th anniversary of Pokémon, they produced this video. Watching it even now makes me tear up.
I remember begging my mom for a GameBoy Advanced, and the excitement of getting one. I remember waiting to see what Pokémon would be added to the next generation. I remember sitting in my parents car, exploring the Sinnoh highlands. I remember being on IRC chat, looking for people to swap Pokémon with me. I remember going to events for limited releases, either special distribution of rare Pokémon, or new releases of Pokémon cards, the sense of connectedness I felt with everyone there, just based on this one shared interest.
When the AR smartphone game Pokémon GO released, it felt like society had just started to shift towards the isolation and loneliness mediated by the internet which has only gotten worse. But suddenly people took to the streets, meeting in parks and across their neighborhoods to try and find rare Pokémon; there wasn’t even battling at the start. But people were there, talking about what faction they chose, which Pokémon was their favorite.
The games have narratives, but the player also finds their own narratives, creates their own attachments with the Pokémon they choose over the course of the game. This to me is the mark of a work that leaves true impact. Never was this highlighted better than through Twitch Plays Pokémon, where commenters not only watched a livestream of a videogame, they interacted, sending inputs to the game through the chat, and eventually making their way through the entire game.
It's kind of hard to explain how insane this felt to me at the time; and still does.
It ran 24/7, so I only caught it live in snippets, but know: I was there. Rarely since have I felt more connected to strangers on the internet. It was an event. Meta-narratives sprang up from the watchers / players, memes generated in real-time.
I felt this way again recently after seeing this TikTok, where someone notes the variety of different Pokémon merch being sold, and how every Pokémon is someone’s favorite. What happened in each person’s playthrough of the games, what led these players to connect with these Pokémon? Isn’t there something special in a franchise—maybe especially in a franchise—that gives people the space to bring their own love to it?
@pokelates seeing all the pokemons go home is making me emotional #pokemontiktok #pokemonjapan #pokemoncenter
♬ braincells - tomcbumpz
Pokémon (alongside Zelda) might've first ignited my interest in Japan, in Japanese, but that sense of adventure and optimism might've permeated deeper than I first realized. A childhood trip to China showed me how big the world was, Anthony Bourdain showed me how to carry myself in it, but Pokémon taught me the meaning of adventure. So far, it's a journey that's taken me halfway around the world. Who knows where it'll take me next?
This past week, I started a new playthrough of Pokémon FireRed, a remake of the first game in the series. I don't know if I'll finish it, let alone any of the dozens that come after it. But there's no rush. I know Pokémon will always be ready for me to come back to it, whenever I'm ready.
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