Like many others who grew up in the early 2000s, I've always held a certain nostalgic affection for Pokémon. In fact, as a kid, I really loved the series—up until 2006's Gen IV (Pokemon Diamond & Pearl), I collected every game, and I would always be on the lookout at thrift stores for VHS tapes of the anime I could watch at home. To this day, I can't explain it, but I always feel compelled to say that two of my all-time favorite games are Pokémon Colosseum and Pokémon Channel. I vividly digging through my tiny and circular GameCube disc binder all the time, excitedly dredging up the two to play.
Truth be told, though, at a certain point, I started not to like Pokémon for anything more than nostalgia—and I failed to see how people who grew up with the franchise like I did could like it for any other reason. Later in life, I would get into game series like Persona and Shin Megami Tensei, adamantly recommending them to friends and saying they did Pokémon but better. On some level, when I got really into anime, I even started to resent Pokémon's anime, which I saw as formulaic and childish. But recent circumstances brought me to give the franchise another try, and one small detail made me understand everything immediately.
Ash's Journey With Pikachu Got Off To A Bad Start
Pokémon's Earliest Episode Is So Much Better Than You Might Expect
Surely, like I did, you can perfectly recall the basic outlay of the first episode of Pokémon. Ash Ketchum, the aspiring young Pokémon trainer from Pallet Town, excitedly falls asleep while watching Professor Oak's TV show; he dreams of having his first Pokémon; he wakes up late. When he shows up at Professor Oak's laboratory, Oak chides him for being tardy, and Ash is forced into selecting Pikachu. Pikachu doesn't like him at first and refuses to get into a Pokéball, some comedic relief happens with Ash and Oak getting shocked, while Oak drops some of his trademark lame puns. If you're like me, then you vaguely that after this, Ash and Pikachu bond. The big question is about how they bonded.
That's the detail that made all the difference for me. I forgot why the two bonded. As Pikachu stubbornly refuses to make any headway with Ash despite his seeming sincerity, the two eventually wind up in the midst of a bunch of angry Spearows. Ash stands up against the Fearows to protect Pikachu, winning Pikachu's affections slowly but surely. It's a huge moment for two reasons. Firstly, it made it clear how much Ash really cared about Pikachu and Pokémon in general. Secondly, it made Ash and Pikachu start to feel like a real, organic friendship rather than one between a Pokémon and their trainer.
Many people didn't like Ash much because his presence didn't mirror Pokémon's games, but that's also an insight into how thoughtful the story is. It's easy to forget just how radical of a decision it was to stick Ash with Pikachu rather than one of Gen I's conventional starters. In Pokémon Red & Blue, Pikachu is a relatively uncommon Pokémon found only in the Viridian Forest. The Pokémon is an early sight in the games, but without the context of the anime, it doesn't stand out any more than, say, a Clefairy would. In hindsight, it clearly demonstrates that the series was working at a level that I had always failed to recognize. It's also most likely part of why the franchise was so successful. A dismal collectathon based around a forgettable protagonist who just collects Pokémon by the book would be absolutely dismal.
Pokémon Always Had A Kind Of Heart That's Easy To Forget
That's Why It Became So Successful
At the very least, it would certainly take away the bite of the relationship between Pokémon and their trainers that provided Pokémon's cast a ground to stand on when, say, Mewtwo came along to liberate Pokémon in Pokémon: The First Movie. This sort of heart and genuine bond permeates a lot of the early Pokémon episodes. Now, I don't know how many other early '00s kids like myself grew up playing Zoo Tycoon and watching Animal Planet, but as a kid, I had a sincere love for animals. When I revisited Pokémon, I saw that sense of love reflected, and suddenly everything started to slot together for me in of my childhood interests.
Sure, eventually, Pokémon became very formulaic. But its earliest episodes are a genuine attempt to take a barebones concept—a random kid without a specific name goes on a vaguely defined adventure to "catch 'em all"—and turn it into something worthy of total, unabiding fandom. Part of that necessarily involved bringing out an emotional side to the adventure that might not have been evident otherwise. The early episodes abound with this kind of emotional appeal, and it works incredibly well. Speaking of Mewtwo, 's anime uses Mew to tread this line.
Consider the Charmander who is rushed to the Pokémon Center as his flame risks dying out in Pokémon's best episode, or the treacherous Squirtle Squad, which their owners abandoned. Some episodes touch on familial bonds, like "The Kanghaskhan Kid" (episode #34), while others touch on abandonment, separation, and reconciliation, like Otoshi's Marowak in "Bad to the Bone" (episode #73). Particularly notable to me was how, rather than being a comic relief character for the duration of the series, Psyduck eventually shows his worth to Misty—and through the combination of his adorable, relatable behavior and his secret potential, Psyduck has become an enduring fan favorite to this day.
After all, everyone loves Pikachu, but does anybody fully know why they love Pikachu?
In many ways, the fashion in which empathy, love, and care run through Pokémon to its core reminded me a lot of Naruto, a franchise about which I've written many times. And sure, from a more abstract perspective, maybe Pokémon is just as idealistic as Naruto is. At its heart, the idea of just capturing every Pokémon one can and then sending them out to battle doesn't necessarily resonate with our sensibilities of how animals should be treated. Certainly, it takes some degree of idealism on Pokémon's part to make that into an amicable idea.
Nonetheless, Pokémon succeeds. Rewatching the series, I found that there was always this emotional core to Pokémon that was incredibly unlikely considering the source material. Somehow I'd forgotten it. Perhaps the franchise, in its massive stature, has become such an indelible part of everyday life that I started to take these kinds of elements for granted. After all, everyone loves Pikachu, but does anybody fully know why they love Pikachu? At any rate, I was pleasantly surprised when, as an adult, I returned to Pokémon and found it was so much more meaningful than I'd ever thought.
Ash Ketchum, a ten-year-old from Pallet Town, embarks on an adventure to become a Pokémon Master. With his first Pokémon, Pikachu, Ash sets out to capture and train Pokémon while battling other trainers in Pokémon Gyms to earn badges. ed by his friends Brock and Misty, Ash consistently thwarts the plans of the nefarious Team Rocket, all while making new friends and encountering Pokémon across various regions.
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