Pokemon Ruby/Sapphire Review

 (Originally published to Glitchwave on 3/11/2025)

[Image from glitchwave.com]

Pokemon Ruby/Sapphire

Developer: Game Freak

Publisher: Nintendo

Genre(s): JRPG

Platforms: GBA

Release Date: November 21, 2002

The third Pokemon generation ideally should've been the period where my nostalgic fondness for the franchise is rooted. Surprisingly enough, however, the then-current era of the series during the pinnacle of my Pokemon obsession as a child was met with hesitation and indifference. Even though I was introduced to the series in 2003, the courier guiding me through the Pokemon phenomenon was my older cousin, who was old enough to have been acquainted with Pokemon in its classic era. Initial exposure via personal interactions is a more effective method of influence than commercials or hype-driven word of mouth that I was no doubt ignoring with the third generation of Pokemon. Because the first two Pokemon eras were my introductory point to the franchise, I, like the seasoned fan my cousin was, scoffed at Pokemon Ruby/Sapphire. In stating this, my apprehension in giving Ruby/Sapphire the time of day was not due to social pressures. Like the typical child, I was vehemently opposed to change. Ruby/Sapphire was not another extension branching from the original Pokemon era like Gold/Silver was. Rather, it forsook the old guard entirely in favor of new implementations. It didn't help that the anime series also adopted the same ethos of starting anew when Ash finished his Johto quest and began his adventure in Ruby/Sapphire's region with a whole new cast of secondary character accompanying him, which meant that every bit of new Pokemon content was catapulting me out of my comfort zone. After picking Pokemon back up ten years later (which was ten years ago now) as an adult and proactively experiencing all of the Pokemon generations I had glossed over, I've come to find that Pokemon Ruby/Sapphire is a testament to the fact that change, for a lack of a better term, is good.

Even though Ruby/Sapphire features a plethora of elements unrecognizable to returning players, the adventure arc of a small town boy progressively becoming “the best that no one ever was” still drives the Pokemon narrative. The potential Pokemon champion in the making now resides on the island nation of Hoenn, and is newly a resident of the tranquil burg Littleroot Town along with his mom. Conveniently enough for an eager, up-and-coming pokemon trainer, a pokemon professor resides in the same zip code along with his laboratory where three new starter pokemon are being exhibited. Shifting the lineup of starter pokemon was already a unit of change that genwunners had to cope with in Gold/Silver. Still, at least the dynamic of opposing elemental types between the three starters had been preserved with Gold/Silver’s selection, and that pattern persists in Ruby/Sapphire. Representing the grass typing is Treecko, a little green gecko who chews a blade of grass in between his sly smirk of confidence. The adorable orange chickadee Torchic is Treecko's elemental contrast, a chicken with an extraordinarily fiery spice level like Korean barbeque. Torchic’s opposing force of nature is Mudkip, modeled after an obscure amphibian known as an axolotl. They’re certainly real, but they’re usually not colored blue like this precious mud salamander. As adorably winsome as these three are in their youthful states, the developers have amended the mistakes that were made regarding the Johto starters. Through evolution, the Hoenn starters transform from delightful little dumplings into some seriously awe-inspiring powerhouses by their final phase. I don’t claim to out fox any pokemon professor in the field of biological research, but I detect that it's the fully evolved starter pokemon’s dual typings that elevates their fighting prowess. Swampert is equally as adored as its pipsqueak self for perfecting the exquisite water and ground fusion that Wooper and Quagsire conceived. As long as the player minds its severe allergy to grass like a proactive parent, their Swampert will cause them to laugh maniacally at every electric pokemon’s attempt to shock them to no avail as it retaliates by earthquaking their health bars to nothing. I love Swampert as much as the next guy, but Torchic’s final form, Blaziken, is an immaculate, majestic beast with no proper imitators to speak of. Blaziken kicks a metric shit ton of ass, and it's the secondary fighting type property that takes this statement to literal territory. Just Blaziken’s design alone with its glaring color scheme and battle stance that’s as upright and disciplined as a mythical martial arts master compels me to ink it somewhere to immortalize its bodaciousness–either on my body or on a wild party van caravaning around the country. Blaziken is ten times cooler than Charizard, and I’ll take all the flack that I’m bound to receive for this opinion with stride. I hate to bag on the grass starter as plenty of pokefans are prone to do, but Sceptile is admittedly the weak link in this roster due to sticking to its one elemental designation throughout its life cycle. Still, its zooming agility and suave demeanor runs circles around several starter pokemon from any other generation both literally and figuratively. The trio of pokemon parting gifts here are without a doubt superior to the ones offered when beginning one’s journey through Johto, but I will boldly claim that Hoenn’s starters outclass the original three. One simply can’t deny their outstanding appeal in both design and battle properties even if they’re loyally fixated on the classics.

While I was perfectly comfortable with restocking the grass, fire, and water starting selections, Pokemon Ruby/Sapphire made me distraught when it decided to omit the vast majority of the pokemon that appeared in the previous two generations. Only a modest selection of Kanto and Johto’s pokemon aren’t endemic to their original regions. Students of karate will still likely have Machop or Machoke as their buddies in brawn, and Koffing and Grimer are still a pollutant pair of poison pokemon, signifying that Hoenn is experiencing the same consequences to overindustrialzation. The player will still reel up Magikarp and Goldeen while fishing, and the toxic jellyfish Tentacool remains a likely encounter while surfing. When spelunking through any of Hoenn’s caves, guess which eyeless, two-toothed bat will dive from the ceiling to confuse the player’s pokemon at a maddening rate? You guessed it. Pokemon such as Natu/Xatu and Marill/Azumarill can also be found in Hoenn so Johto’s contributions to the Pokedex haven’t been forgotten either. While the returning pokemon slightly curb my sentimentality, the paltry number of familiar faces was not enough to placate my childish sensibilities. Two decades later as an adult who has adopted mature-minded concepts such as restraint and avoiding oversaturation, I can firmly state that the 135 of Hoenn’s native creatures are just as exemplary as Professor’s Birch’s starting selection.

I’ve also conceptualized an understanding that Pokemon should be analyzed and appreciated for more than their superficial design qualities, but the creatures that roam around the nation of Hoenn are simply too visually striking to gloss over their physical allure. The glamorous Gardevoir and the “fairer Gyarados” Milotic are the first two pokemon I’d classify as beautiful, although I have to interject that applying this adjective does not mean that I am sexually attracted to either of them. I hate that the fanbase has made me resort to disclaiming that. For those who are more entranced by the ferocity of the older pokemon I compared Milotic to, Hoenn features a myriad of intimidating pokemon that will make any opponent quake and quiver in fear just by glancing at them, much less fighting them. Shiftry is a long-haired tree nymph with a glaring look of malice, the cactus Cacturne is as if the desert vegetation was possessed by the spirit of a serial killer like Chucky, and I don’t think it’s necessary to give a detailed description to the razor-toothed shark Sharpedo to illustrate how terrifying it is to anyone. Exploud has pitifully mediocre stats, but one probably couldn’t detect that from its red eyes of pure anger and its gaping mouth that spans the diameter of a sinkhole. The first three pokemon that I’ve listed to highlight their fright factor also share a commonality in that they are all secondary dark type pokemon, a new elemental attribute that debuted in the last Pokemon generation just for Gold/Silver to treat the new breed of beast as an afterthought with their selective rarity. In Ruby/Sapphire, any player can obtain a pokemon of this shadowed distinction with the ashened pup Poochyena lurking in the grasses just outside of Littleroot. Other types that were a scarce discovery in previous Pokemon titles are also far more frequent with Game Freak’s new inclusions, such as Swablu and Trapinch evolving into the primary dragon types of Altaria and Vibrava/Flygon. Who would’ve ever thought that they could ever conveniently catch a pokemon that could evolve into this exalted elemental typing just by walking through the tall hedges along the main path? From a battle standpoint, several of Hoenn’s pokemon excel due to many of them having the potential to evolve twice. Aggron and Slaking are practically demi-legendaries from their immensity alone, and I’d discuss the merits of Ludicolo only if I wouldn’t get in trouble detailing its racy ethnic resemblances. Even the new pokemon that are averse to evolving like Absol, Zangoose, and Tropius supersede the lukewarm reputation that their categorization tends to have. The mischievous, diamond-eyed Sableye is even the first pokemon with no weaknesses, a promising pitch for anyone to include it in their posse. As a collective, the ratio of fantastically designed and mechanically imposing pokemon greatly outweighs the few unimpressive duds (Luvdisc, Spinda), more so than the esteemed first generation’s lineup and for the record, any batch of new pokemon since.

Unfortunately, the new slew of marvelous pokemon that reside in Hoenn are somewhat impractical from a certain standpoint. Sure, the influx of dark and dragon pokemon is a splendid gesture of innovation, but it's not as if common trainers are packing a plethora of psychic types or a deluge of other dragons in their pockets. Grass and water types will be found in abundance between sporadic field encounters and in trainer battles, which is why the lack of fire and electric pokemon in Hoenn will frustrate everyone. The sparse fire pokemon selection is confined to a steaming cave called “Fiery Path” where the player can encounter either newcomers Numel and Torkoal or the returning Slugma from Gold/Silver’s second quest through Kanto. Given that all of these hot pokemon are all modeled after a camel, a tortoise, and a goddamn snail, every battle scenario will automatically result in politely letting the opponent strike first like allowing someone to pass by on a road intersection. Add another point to Blaziken’s scorecard as the greatest starter pokemon to ever exist. Wingull and its evolved form Pelipper seem to be Hoenn’s most commonplace pokemon either in the wild or in the hands of miscellaneous trainers, plus the continued prevalence of Gyarados is more evidence that electric pokemon are more viable than their presence would dictate. If the player wishes to refrain from sticking to the classics with Magnemite and Voltorb, then the staticky canine Electrike/Manectric is the only suitable choice to engage with the profusion of water pokemon that a grass type can’t quite combat as effectively. Get the fuck out of here if you think you’re going to conquer any of these sea behemoths using either of the oppositely charged rodent twins, Plusle and Minun. While the overall roster of Game Freak’s 135 new creations are spectacular in their own right, only a few really thrive in this environment–a tragic oversight on Game Freak’s part.

Why are there enough grass and water pokemon across Hoenn to fill an arboretum and an aquarium? Well, it’s a formality based on how the region is designed. Similarly to Kanto and Johto before it, Hoenn is based off of the real Japanese region of Kyushu, the southernmost chain of the Asian nation’s islands. Considering that this area of the country is slightly closer to the equator, its climate can be described as subtropical. The grasses that encompass the region’s fields are thicker and wildly unkempt with more exposure to sunlight, and deep, open waters often comprise the routes between key destinations, docking on sandy beach shores after surfing for miles and miles. Hence, why grass and water type pokemon are so prevalent in Hoenn’s ecosystem. Overlooking the tousled valleys and crashing waves of sea water is a volcano that peppers its immediate surroundings with ash, and there is also a stretch of desert where sandstorms rage so turbulently that it's recommended to only traverse through it with a pair of goggles. In the northern part of the region where the climate is fairly moderate, people live amongst the towering, girthy trees like the Ewoks of Endor in Fortree City. Flowers are an organic and enterprising source of commerce in Hoenn, and berries can be plucked right from their loamy origins every few yards. In my summation, Hoenn’s topography is a marriage between California and Hawaii. In addition, Hoenn’s general atmosphere can also be compared to that of the two western, oceanside American states. The attitude exuded across Hoenn by its denizens is complacently laid back, comparable to that of a “surfer dude” if Dewford Town’s gym leader Brawly is any indication. Hoenn isn’t interested in competing with Kanto accelerating modernity and all of the stresses that come with its newfangled revolutions. Still, unlike with Johto whose tranquility stemmed from a commitment to preserving an unadorned traditionalism, Hoenn’s people exude a hippy-dippy vibe, where “siesta” is in their daily vocabulary and they’re conscious about their carbon footprint, but out of a legitimate concern for the environment and not to gain social capital with their neighbors. Is Oddish a common pokemon in Hoenn because the natives like to smoke them? I’m asking for a friend. Anyways, this sun-baked land of serenity is my choice pokemon region for all of the environmental qualities listed above. That being said, navigating between the urban destinations where the gyms are often located via a watery channel can get irritating due to its lack of defined borders and the constant torrent of invasive water pokemon.

Hoenn is certainly pretty and so are the majority of its native pokemon, but how does this picturesque Pokemon country contribute to evolving the series attributes as a sequel? The enhanced visuals that naturally come with the advanced GBA hardware compared to the GBC are a given, so I won’t wax poetic about the refined pixel art on display despite its attractiveness. In terms of Ruby/Sapphire’s mechanical innovations on what is now a defined, familiar formula, they are mild but admirable. Type-based immunity has always been a factor of Pokemon’s defensive components, using common sense to determine that ground attacks should not touch any airborne pokemon and steel should be impervious to poison due to the pokemon of that distinction not having any biological cells to infect. With “abilities,” a pokemon’s total invulnerability to certain attacks and status afflictions is extended based on their physicality. For example, Weezing’s secondary poison typing guaranteed it be decimated by “dig” or “earthquake” despite the fact that it hovers above all solid footing just like any flying pokemon. Thanks to the abilities feature giving credence to this characteristic with “levitate,” all that the sickly, purple series of tumors has to be cautious of now is weaponized psychosis. Ghost type Shuppet/Banette can’t be put to sleep due to “insomnia,” and Makuhita/Hariyama’s “guts” boosts its attack if it’s encumbered by any status afflictions. Not only will these distinctive attributes cause seasoned pokemon trainers to reconsider the elemental combat that they’ve likely honed to a science, it will also factor into another substantial change that Ruby/Sapphire debuts. If one sees two trainers standing so close to one another as if they’re sides are glued together, conversing with either of them will engage in a “double battle,” whose conditions are that the player must battle with two of their pokemon simultaneously. It’s a wonder how it took the third generation of the series for Game Freak to think of doubling the pokemon action. Nevertheless, a team effort for two different pokemon in one’s party expands the diameters of combat exponentially. Whereas having two active pokemon at once increases the potential for effective offense, it can also make one pokemon a liability depending on the other team’s arsenal of tactics. The player should also refrain from unleashing any sprawling offensive moves as they normally would in fighting scenarios, for the radius of the super move will likely damage their partner pokemon to varying circumstantial degrees. I don’t think my Camerupt ever forgave me for carelessly dousing it with my Crawdaunt’s “surf” once during a double battle. While a tag team duel with a pair of one’s pokemon party seems like an overlooked requisite finally coming to fruition, it’s a shame that I could probably count all of the instances where this kind of duel takes place on all of my fingers.

One addition to Ruby/Sapphire that augments the Pokemon experience is completely separated from the equation of battle entirely. If the player has grown numb from the highs of Pokemon conquest after three entries, Hoenn offers an alternative outlet for them to flaunt their expertise in the shape of pokemon pageantry. In a select few cities, an extravagant-looking building will be the domain where these pokemon contests occur, akin to something of a dog show. The judges will determine a pokemon’s gusto and superstar factor by a number of different qualities, of which the player can determine their inherent strengths in this department through a statistical menu completely separated from their battle properties. Natural beauty is obviously an advantage like with any contest of the sort, but a pokemon can also sway the judges into applauding them by exhibiting other characteristics like toughness and their composure if their appearance can’t make them swoon (a tough conversation to have, for sure). Honestly, I only know the general process of this irregular Pokemon event because the game never incentivized me to channel my inner overzealous housewife. I’m not saying that this surrogate showcase of a pokemon trainer’s aptitude has no right to exist or that I’m minimizing its intuitiveness. Still, the optional status of a very feminine-oriented mechanic in a series with a resolutely male-centric demographic is bound to generate nothing but ambivalence.

If practicing the catwalk with your pokemon doesn’t suit your fancy, Ruby/Sapphire still presents other distractions from the player’s ambitious goal to trounce the executives of the Pokemon League. “Rival” battles are yet again serve as a brief halt in one’s progress, but I use the term in quotes because the opposing trainers no longer carry any heated, contentious connotations. May is the canon name of the female protagonist who will periodically challenge the male protagonist throughout the game after starting their pokemon careers on the same day from their homespun town of Littleroot. Her penchant of pestering Brendan, the canon name for the male protagonist, seems less out of fierce competition for glory and more as an excuse to interact with him while he’s out on the town. Will any girls tell me if this puppy love dynamic is as endearing with the genders reversed? It probably isn't. The timid and reputedly anemic Wally is another character that fits the role of rival on a technicality, attempting to best the protagonist after he aided the capture of his first pokemon. Calling Wally a rival is laughable, and anyone who loses to this stuttering squirt should harbor an embarrassment equivalent to getting KO-ed by Glass Joe. Truly, the overarching rivalry B-plot of Ruby/Sapphire revolves around two feuding syndicates whose goals conflict with one another: Team Magma and Team Aqua. Depending on the version of the game, the player will either intrude on Team Magma’s plans to repave Hoenn with arid earth or Team Aqua from flooding the country to biblical proportions. One’s heart and soul might align with either the landlubbers or the scurvy-ridden sea scallywags but personally, I wish I could approach either of these Team Rocket substitutes from an impartial standpoint instead of being forced to aid one of them–complacently turning an eye to the batshit absurdity of the other’s mission. At least the climax of dealing with their nonsense results in potentially obtaining either Groudon or Kyogre, the legendary pokemon on each version’s box art.

Despite having to subscribe to one group's ecological insanity in order to stop the other, I felt that the Team Magma/Aqua subplot was of greater substance than that of Ruby/Sapphire’s main arc. Sure, the gratification of defeating the challenging elite four is still electrifying, especially since the champion Steven has the arachnid sentinel Metagross in his roster–who hits like a Mack truck and is completely unwavered by all status afflictions. Still, Steven himself is an unsatisfying champion to overthrow in the narrative sense because he bears little to no impact on the player’s growth as a trainer. The opulent mineral-enthusiast is present at many points in the player’s journey, but his helpfulness never suggests his role as a prime Pokemon contender in the ranks of Hoenn’s elite. Are we intended to be shocked when we open the ivory doors to the champion’s corridors and see Steven? The revelation doesn’t exactly hold a candle to seeing your rival seated in the proverbial throne room, the shitstain who has been antagonizing you that you’ve grown to despise. The closest resemblance to an effective Pokemon growth arc in Ruby/Sapphire comes with dealing with your Dad, Norman, who is the gym leader of Petalburg. Returning to one’s closest city to defeat Dad after such a feat was deemed improbable indeed carries the weight of maturation, but the fact that he’s the fifth gym leader instead of the last one, like looping around back to Viridian in Kanto, peaks this arc far too soon. Come to think of it, why couldn’t Norman have been the secret pokemon champion, hiding his prodigious title from his kid and then pulling the rug out from under them once they reached his domain? That would’ve been a dynamic punch to the gut.

I should’ve never let myself be guided into the Pokemon series by a genwunner. The third Pokemon generation that, by all logic, should’ve been my gateway into the series, considering the impressionability of my age at the time. I now realize it would’ve been the perfect generation to start imbibing Nintendo’s most potent drug. I’m now elated that Game Freak chose to discontinue the encounters of many already established pokemon, for the stellar selection of new ones wouldn’t have had room to breathe with them clogging the space. That space in question, the region of Hoenn, is so inviting with its lovely geography that it’s worthy of a vacation destination in an ideal realm of feasibility. If anyone has managed to elude the Pokemon phenomenon and is curious, I can’t think of a better introductory point to the franchise than Ruby/Sapphire. However, for veterans of the franchise, it’s a bit underwhelming in many aspects. The repeated progression without too many substantial ways of mixing it up indicates that the series is now stewing in its own idiosyncrasies, like being left in the tub for too long. Pokemon Ruby/Sapphire is a treasure in a vacuum, but I can see why this is where Pokemania fizzled out.

Pokemon Gold & Silver Review

 (Originally published to Glitchwave on 12/23/23)

[Image from glitchwave.com]

Pokemon Gold & Silver

Developer: Game Freak

Publisher: Nintendo

Genre(s): JRPG

Platforms: GB Color

Release Date: November 21, 1999

The whole “gen-wuner” sentiment across the cultural zeitgeist of Pokemon has never ceased to spark some personal contention within me. I completely understand that a large margin of people were children during the height of “Pokemania'' and aged out of the franchise's young demographic as it still managed to march on with subsequent releases past its commercial peak in its first generation. For many, Pokemon is strictly a substantial centerpiece of popular media at the turn of the millennium in their respective nostalgia capsules, and that is perfectly acceptable. I was one of these people throughout my adolescence until a social shift occurred in my college years, reeling me back into Pokemon out of curiosity about what I missed during the time when I was “too cool” for Pikachu. Still, my enclosed area of sentimentality beforehand was not restricted to Pokemon’s first generation. I suppose I could call myself a “gen-twoer,” as the era of Pokemon Gold and Silver is where I set my arbitrary boundaries. Pokemon’s second generation was also my introduction point to Pokemon as my older cousin gave me his Gameboy Color with a copy of Pokemon Silver when I was seven and unknowingly created a crippling addiction for me that was difficult to mandate. Given this information, it's no surprise that I’ve encompassed both the first and second generations in my personal sphere of wonderment for Pokemon’s past. Still, I question why my situation isn’t as common with those who grew up with the franchise and how the Gold/Silver generation eludes them. Pokemon’s sophomore outing was released two years after Red/Blue when the franchise's fire was still roaring hot, so its sales still benefited from the ongoing Pokemania craze. It’s not as if Gold/Silver wasn’t a heavily anticipated entry because the Pokemon fad was waning. Are the Kanto enthusiasts that dense to think that the franchise peaked with the first entry, even with the coarse, black-and-white Gameboy pixels and unsightly depictions of the Pokemon to contend with? If this is the case, they must stop smoking the nostalgia crack pipe and come to their senses. Pokemon Gold/Silver should ideally be the primary source of warm recollections of when Nintendo’s franchise was a cultural phenomenon, for it’s essentially an extension of the first generation with so many clear improvements that it’s hard to deny its objective superiority.

Pokemon Gold/Silver begins with the same sense of excitement as Red/Blue did. The player is taking control of another bright-eyed rookie trainer with ambitious dreams of besting everyone in the profession of Pokemon training. This time, the trainer wakes up in his hometown of New Bark Town in the land of Johto neighboring Kanto directly to the west. The deviation in setting here establishes that every Pokemon adventure is going to be across the entire jurisdiction of an uncharted land from here on out. The player’s mom will wish him good luck, and he’ll walk next door to the Pokemon laboratory where Professor Elm will gift him a starter Pokemon that the player will cherish and grow with throughout the game. So far, the starting process to this Pokemon adventure should ring familiar, except for the starter Pokemon displayed for the player to select. Every new entry to the Pokemon franchise adds at least one hundred new additions to the accumulative roster, with the region-specific Pokedex altering itself to give the fresh faces higher precedence. Listed at the top of Johto’s national Pokedex are the three starter Pokemon replacing those from Red/Blue: the leafy little Chikorita who highlights the herbivore diet of the long-necked dinosaurs it's modeled after, the anteater Cyndaquil that spurts flames from its backside, and the blue, fun-sized crocodile Totodile. As one could probably guess from their designs, the starters cement that the contrasting grass, fire, and water types will be the selection at the start from here on out. While copying the elemental types of the beginning batch of starters seems like the transition was slick and smooth, Johto’s first Pokemon friends are admittedly underwhelming. Their initial forms are cute, but Chikorita forgets to shed that baby face when it fully evolves into Meganium. Despite its bulky body, no one is going to be intimidated by anything that looks this goofy. Typhlosion’s deficient array of fire moves it learns hardly makes it a barn burner pick, as much as it pains me to admit it because of my sentimental attachment to Cyndaquil as my very first Pokemon. Totodile’s final form Feraligatr is probably the most formidable choice but is ultimately bogged down by a single typing like the rest of its starter mates. None of the fully evolved starters even represent their respective games on the box art, opting for the legendary pair of Lugia and Ho-oh instead. The threesome here lacks the charisma and capabilities that made the previous starters Pokemon icons.

Fortunately, Pokemon’s initiative is to build that eclectic sextet, covering most if not all of the bases to compensate for your starter Pokemon’s elemental blind spots. In my overall summation of the second generation’s Pokemon contributions, we have a divisive mix of fantastic additions alongside some laughably pitiful duds. On the respectable side of the coin, every player should consider putting Hoothoot and Mareep in their Pokemon arsenal, for they evolve into majestic beasts (Noctowl and Ampharos) and can be encountered early on to assuage the growing pains of a paltry pokemon team. The player is guaranteed more confidence during their amateur era as opposed to when Red/Blue expected them to blaze through the first few gym leaders with a bushel of frail bug pokemon. For those who still give the weakest pokemon type in the series a fighting chance, Gold/Silver introduces Heracross and Forretress to firmly instill that sense of entomophobia in other trainers. Gold/Silver also starts the trend of pokemon with contradictory elemental typings, a hybrid the developers probably took into stressful consideration and decided that it wasn’t oxymoronic or made these pokemon impervious. Lanturn’s anglerfish design (a non-hideous one) is a biologically sound influence to craft a water and electric pokemon, as the detached dandelion cotton spore Jumpluff is for a grass and flying pokemon. Wooper and Quagsire are the first evolutionary line to have both water and ground types properties, an elite fusion as long as the trainer keeps them off the grass as stern as a neighborhood sign. The rugged rock tree Sudowoodo is Johto’s Snorlax, a waypoint impediment that requires an item to reanimate and fight for the taking. Ursaring, Donphan, Xatu, Skarmory, Sneasel, and Houndoom are all alluring in their designs alone. Unfortunately, all of Gold/Silver’s striking and sturdy new pokemon are counteracted on the whole by just as many unexceptional ones. For some reason, Johto unloads an abundance of single-evolution pokemon that feel included just to round out the Pokedex. Who seriously shares any attachment towards Aipom, Qwilfish, Yanma, or Stantler? Dunsparce, the oversized sweat bee that resides in a remote, dark cave, is so pitiful that I find it endearing. Delibird, Smeargle, and the alphabetized Unown are practically novelty pokemon. Girafarig is the only substantial one of the unevolved bunch because its normal and psychic typing gives it immunity to ghost, and battling Shuckle is akin to attempting to break open a diamond. Still, I glance at the entire roster and am disappointed that Farfetch’d was multiplied in triplets.

Fortunately, if one is unsatisfied or is feeling obdurately reverent, Kanto’s pokemon are scattered about Johto as extensively as its native species. However, a sizable portion of Gold/Silver’s roster is dedicated to adding variations on the original lineup. Evidently, there is something in Johto’s water supply that allows previously established pokemon to extend their evolutionary capacities. Before we discuss the old pokemon’s addendums, we should probably make note of their more infantile forms that have just been discovered. The Johto daycare’s services not only increase the level of a pokemon without needing to battle: if the player leaves two pokemon of the opposite gender alone in the yard, there is a strong possibility that there will be three pokemon in the pen by the time the player returns to retrieve them if you catch my drift. If the concept of evolution was enough for the conservative, Christian parents of America to put Pokemon on their shit list, imagine their reactions when the sequel introduces a mechanic revolving around sexual reproduction. Little Timmy will have so many questions left unanswered! Anyways, for a small percentage of pokemon, passing down their genetic material by making whoopee with another of a similar typing and relative size (or the amorphous pile of sex putty that is Ditto), an egg will naturally slide out of the female, and will hatch into a “baby pokemon” after walking about with it for a brief period. Pichu is the infant version of Pikachu, Magby is for Magmar, Elekid is for Electabuzz, etc. The only baby pokemon totally removed from Kanto lineage is Togepi, a freebie given to the player by Professor Elm to test the new mechanic. These adorable little tykes are so underdeveloped that using them in battle would be unspeakably cruel, but at least they can learn new moves once they evolve that their non-bred equivalents in the wild cannot. Regarding the evolution end of the spectrum, the swift Crobat is evolved from the gaping-mouthed Golbat via “friendship” where increasing the bond between a man and his pokemon actually provides some tangible benefits. The same process evolves the additional “Eeveelutions” Espeon and Umbreon, two pokemon that intentionally display a contrast between night and day. Some old pokemon simply needed a material incentive to evolve, such as Slowpoke transforming into the hyper-intelligent Slowking upon acquiring a king’s rock, or Scyther and Onix into Scizor and Steelix when traded with a Metal Coat attached. I don’t know how someone could stick their noses up at how Gold/Silver augments the classics from Kanto, for the examples I’ve given are among the coolest and most competent pokemon that the second generation has to offer.

The last two pokemon I mentioned, along with the coal-black Eevee evolved form Umbreon, are also examples of two typings unheard of in Red/Blue: Steel and Dark. The series didn’t introduce any elemental types until several generations down the line, so two whole new categorizations after the first entry is an exciting prospect. Shuffling steel and dark into the deck of pokemon battle attributes is sure to confuse those who had memorized each strength and weakness. Actually, what their inclusion really does is give the once god-like psychic types something to be afraid of, as dark’s super effectiveness against them sensibly stems from the common fear of a lack of luminescence. Now, psychics tremble to what they cannot see, and we all take delight in their quaking vulnerability. With a slight in logic, dark’s primary weakness is fighting, somehow suggesting that martial arts are more potent and accurate when one is blind like a mystical samurai. Steel, on the other hand, is a solid defensive type strong against ice and rock while crumbling to fighting, ground, and fire. They are also totally immune to poison, so no antidotes are necessary. Unfortunately, pokemon of either type are a scarce breed. Scyther and Onix only evolve through the trading process, so that is a no-go for most players unless they have a link cable and a fellow man-child friend ready to initiate the process. Forretress and the retroactively changed Magneton will have to suffice. In an unfortunate twist of fate, Umbreon is THE only dark type pokemon available before the post-game epilogue, so the player will have to rely on dark-type moves like “Bite” and “Faint Attack” to defend themselves against mind-bending maneuvers. Game Freak is a group of sadists.

Adding an elemental type that triumphs over the cocky psychics is what I’d consider a quality-of-life improvement. For more traditional instances of the term, Gold/Silver is filled to the brim with stark enhancements. It goes without saying that the added color flair of the Gameboy Color obviously makes Gold/Silver more visually appealing than the murky gray that presented Red/Blue. Seeing the Pokemon world’s bright sunlight, brick buildings, grassy fields, and sparkling waters after Red/Blue muted all of them is what I imagine taking the bandages off after Lasik's surgery is like. Suddenly, everything is wonderfully vibrant and that feeling of excitement for a grand, country-spanning adventure is reinvigorated. That added color extends to the pokemon’s health bars during battle as well, using stoplight shades to signify their level of health. A blue color bar is introduced to give the player an indication of how close their pokemon are to the next level, so the eventual grind will be more manageable with a visual reference. Inventory items are organized by general categorizations. It’s far more manageable than the one page in Red/Blue but plenty of miscellaneous items that aren’t pokeballs or TMs/HMs are still jumbled up in a single menu and they still overflow as a result. Berry trees are scattered all over Johto, and their juicy fruit can heal a small percentage of health or cure an ailment. Some trees are conversely draped in apricorns, which can be molded into pokeballs with specific properties when brought to a man in Azalea Town named Kurt. Pokemon encounters now depend on three general times of the day, which coincides with a clock that the player sets before they wake up to start their adventure. I’d still argue the colorization is the most significant improvement because of how the black and white of Red/Blue inadvertently made the game a vexing challenge at times. However, every last addition to Gold/Silver ultimately does its part to make the game a smoother and more engaging experience than Red/Blue.

For as involved Johto is in improving the mold of Pokemon, the entire country is surprisingly much more subdued than its neighbor to the east. The region of Johto is directly inspired by the real-life Kansai region of Japan, which is situated on the same island as its capital Tokyo where Kanto took inspiration from. Unlike the bustling industrialized marvel of the modern age that Kanto strived to emulate, Johto’s landscape has a comparatively placid atmosphere. Johto achieves this laidback sensation through its rural iconography. The towering buildings that shadow the notable districts are ancient architectures crafted from wood and bronze, with the triangular roof as the cherry on top to signify its worn and torn history. Unlike places of Buddhist worship in Japan, Johto’s spiritual houses were erected to practice pokemon devotion. This strange phenomenon can be witnessed as early as Violet City where bald monks kneel at the visage of golden Bellsprouts in the Sprout Tower. The Ruins of Alph feature an exhibit dedicated to uncovering the primeval mystery behind the Unown and translating the supposed language behind their cuneiform bodies. South of the ruins, the people of Azalea Town rely on their rampant Slowpoke population to predict the weather (boy, are they betting on the wrong horse). Mahogany Town is a perfectly quaint place to stay by the picturesque Lake of Rage, and the island of Cianwood City is so off the grid that it's a wonder how they communicate with the rest of Johto. All of the region’s urbanity is congested to Goldenrod City, whose glimmering roads and buildings arguably dwarf any of the metropolises of Kanto. After exploring Johto again, I now realize why fans of Kanto look down on them: they are a bunch of backward rubes stuck in the wrong century. Ironically enough, for how advanced Kanto claims to be, navigating through Johto’s unaffected landscape is a far breezier excursion. Misremembering the Union Cave made me anticipate another grueling Mt. Moon escapade, but the exit is merely down the path from the entrance. The Ilex Forest is intentionally designed like a maze, and I had an easier time walking through it than any of Kanto’s commercial sites that were made to be accessible to its citizens. However, one aspect of traversing through Johto that turns me off is the inclusion of two new water-type HMs on top of "Surf" needed to power past whirlpools and trek upwards on waterfalls. I don’t like the idea of my chosen water-type pokemon having three redundant water moves in its selective range of skills, especially since it was Quagsire whose ground nature was heavily undermined by this requisite.

Because Johto is relatively nonchalant, the overall pokemon adventure here is overall fairly languid. Sure, becoming a Pokemon master by collecting all eight gym badges and defeating the Elite Four is still an admirable goal to strive for, but there is not as much content in between completing the primary quest. Team Rocket is still retaining their presence as a nefarious organization but without Giovanni as their menacing leader, the group is rudderless. The player will stop their black market Slowpoke tail scheme along with halting their radio wave mind control operation, with Elite Four member Lance disappointingly volunteering to do most of the leg work. A mission to procure medicine for a sick Ampharos being hospitalized by gym leader Jasmine in the Olivine Lighthouse facilitates a non-linear sequence of collecting three nearby gym badges similar to the middle of Red/Blue. Still, Cianwood’s distant location away from the Johto inland will probably result in the player completing these gyms in the intended order anyway. Also, the player’s rival this time around will never be up to snuff with their pokemon training prowess. Yes, the red-haired thief is just as much of an asshole as Oak’s grandson from Red/Blue, but he falls under the spectrum of a hostile, emotionally distraught asshole who desperately needs therapy. The brutal treatment of his pokemon never leads him to victory, something that infuriates him to no end due to his pure strength prerogative. Eventually, we learn he’s Giovanni’s son, which explains his fiery disposition and why he’s so hellbent on winning. Learning this makes his motives interesting, but we know he’ll never skid past the Elite Four before you in a million years. Having a competent rival greatly raised the stakes for that climb to victory.

Gold/Silver will keep the player busy anyway because the player will be busy grinding to adequately match the gym leaders. Matching the correct weaknesses of the opposing pokemon is no longer a surefire guarantee for smooth success as it was in Red/Blue. The combat greatly considers other aspects like level and base stats, which unfortunately fosters the need to train one’s pokemon outside the series of consistent trainer battles. Also, the assemblage of pokemon gym leaders in Johto specialize in the other half of typings that weren’t featured in Kanto, and these types are the more unorthodox ones. The one available Machop to trade in Goldenrod is the ace up everyone’s sleeves for the deceivingly strong Whitney unless they want to be pulverized again by her Miltank, and catching Swinub in the Ice Cave is the only pokemon that will even dent Clair’s dragon pokemon in Blackthorn. Speaking of dragon pokemon, establishing a grinding regimen is essential this time around not only because the Elite Four members have high-leveled pokemon in their arsenal, but because newly appointed champion Lance has THREE fucking Dragonites this time around. Tell us you have a tiny penis without explicitly telling us you have a tiny penis, Lance. Because Lance’s six beasts are massive and vicious unlike his shriveled manhood, it’s recommended to leave a trail of dead Golbat, Onix, Rhyhorn, and Graveler in their wake from the Victory Road exit, even though the process will truly grate on every player’s patience.

As climactic as it feels, mastering Johto’s Pokemon League is not the finishing moment that rounds out the Gold/Silver journey. After returning home to New Bark Town to rest momentarily, Professor Elm gives the player a ticket to the familiar SS Anne cruise ship docked in Olivine. As expected, the fanciful ship arrives at its home in the southern port city of Vermillion, and Lt. Surge is now the first of eight gym leaders to conquer in another tour around Kanto. If featuring almost all of Kanto’s pokemon in Johto didn’t tie a connective rope between Red/Blue and Gold/Silver, then the trek around the franchise’s first nation once again is practically what makes Gold/Silver a direct sequel. However, it’s a truncated tour that will only take the player a few hours to accomplish. While on this short lark, the player can marvel at the little things that have changed in the three years since Red put himself on the pedestal of the pokemon Hall of Fame. Regarding the gym leaders the player will face, Koga’s daughter Janine is running the poison-type gym leader in Fuchsia and ex-champion Blue has got himself a full-time gig as Giovanni’s replacement in Viridian. Blaine’s island of Cinnabar has washed away to the point where he is its only resident, and the Safari Zone is closed indefinitely. Instances like these snap the revisiting Red/Blue players back to the reality of time upon expecting a Gold/Silver Kanto to pave a road of untainted nostalgic bliss. Then again, why would anyone want to see Kanto again the way it was when the colorful graphics that are now rendering it are so pleasant? Arriving at the old hub of Pallet Town before the final Kanto gym badge sees a distraught Red’s mom wondering where her son is, as he’s become an instance of someone who evidently couldn’t handle the pressure of fame and literally hid from the overwhelming limelight. Finding Kanto’s finest at the peak of the perilous Mt. Silver across the Johto border to battle him is the true final challenge that Gold/Silver provides. Because Red’s reputation as a champion is surely documented, his pokemon are leveled far higher than any other team of pokemon in the game, so be prepared for a ruthless duel that will have you sweating bullets. Another tedious grinding session aside, having the final opponent of Gold/Silver as what is essentially the player from a past life as the ultimate test of trainer aptitude blows the Elite Four out of the water. Red’s stoic silence isn’t awkward at all, for the scope of this fight leaves me speechless as well.

Gold/Silver’s final fight is also a genius way to illustrate how the new guard of Pokemon has vanquished the old, which is exactly its modus operandi that it never shies away from flaunting. Gold/Silver is unmistakenly familiar to its predecessor because it attempts to succeed the Pokemon formula with pinpoint specificity to improve Red/Blue. It shares the same pokemon, the same pace of progression, and the same troublesome terrorist organization of Team Rocket and streamlines all of these, erasing the jaggedness that came with Red/Blue’s presence on the original Gameboy. Red/Blue’s pokemon championship narrative was admittedly already rounded to perfection, which is why the same arc executed in Gold/Silver is a tad less gratifying. Then, returning to Kanto to face the true champion of the series offered an unprecedented final battle that could make the player faint with its tension. Gold/Silver’s superiority to Red/Blue isn’t simply due to the shift into color on the advanced Gameboy Color model, even if it does improve the graphics significantly. With its positive streamlining, additional content, comparatively deeper battle mechanics, and glowing visual flair, Pokemon Gold/Silver eats Red/Blue for breakfast. I can’t believe there is still a large portion of Pokemon fans who refuse to admit it with all the evidence at hand.

(Originally published to Glitchwave on 12/31/2023)

[Image from glitchwave.com]

Pokemon Crystal

Category: Expanded Game

Release Date: December 14, 2000

Pokemon Yellow debuted the concept of re-releasing the latest addition of a Pokemon game with a slew of extra content to justify its existence. However, I wouldn’t consider it to be the definitive version of the original Kanto journey. The bells and whistles attached to Pokemon Yellow deviated far too much from the core narrative and progression of pokemon catching than what was displayed in the Red/Blue entries. For the fans of the Pokemon anime that Yellow was catered towards, it set an inaccurate precedent for every Pokemon generation that followed where they’d have to manually type in Ash’s name for their character and Pikachu would not act as their little staticky shadow step by step. Pokemon Crystal, the subsequent release acting as a sister version of Gold/Silver, is the first instance of what I’d consider a definitive edition for a Pokemon generation.

I can’t believe no one at Game Freak thought to include the option to play as a female protagonist before Crystal. I understand that Pokemon’s target demographic (and video games as a whole) is young boys, but is it outside the realm of possibilities that girls would be interested in a game revolving around collecting cute, fictional animals and bonding with them like pets? Is it the battle system and conquest arc that inherently cements Pokemon as a male-centric series? Hardly. The ability to swap the protagonist’s gender is a brilliant tactic from a marketing standpoint, garnering a crucial audience whose newfound interest in the franchise is because of this new feature giving them a chance to be a contender as a Pokemon master. For the boys who already experienced Johto in either Gold or Silver and are confident in their masculinity, the female protagonist should also mix up the familiar backdrop adequately.

Really, a definitive version of any game should remedy the mistakes made by the rougher iteration it’s sprucing up. One new feature introduced in Gold/Silver is the ability to save the phone numbers of a select few trainers after defeating them in battle, and I didn’t care to humor this feature. Every time one of these people called me to give me an unsolicited rundown of their day, I immediately deleted their contact information. In Crystal, these trainers will notify you of when swarms of rare pokemon are occurring, plus give you various gifts they scrounge up. Socializing finally pays off. The select pokemon found in seasonal packs are also much easier to obtain than the less than 1% chance given in Gold/Silver, which should honestly only be entertained for Remoraid and Snubbull anyway. Gold version exclusive Growlithe is catchable around Violet City to use against Bugsy if your character didn’t choose Cyndaquil as a starter, and dark-ice type Sneasel can be found in the Ice Cave. It’s a far more sensible spot to put a new pokemon with a beneficial typing for both the dragon and psychic challenges the player will face before shipping off to Kanto. Also, if Gold/Silver’s onus was to give the ugly Red/Blue a makeover, surely the moving pokemon sprites that introduce a battle are a pleasant little touch that gives these creatures a boosted speck of personality.

Crystal’s slight narrative deviation seems to revolve around the Suicune, one of three legendary dogs that succeed the legendary bird trio from Kanto. Like in the base game, the elemental dogs will scurry from their resting place in the basement of Ecruteak’s Burned Tower and run frantically around Johto. I did not mention the side quest involving capturing them because stumbling upon them is a rarer occurrence than catching a pokemon only found during swarms, and the exciting moment of finally finding them just to have them roar your pokemon away from battle adds too much insult to injury. At least encountering Suicune periodically finally culminates to potentially catching it in Kanto, unlike the tortuous hunt for Entei and Raikou.

Pokemon Crystal isn’t merely Gold/Silver for girls, even though the addition of playing as one would naturally entice the other half of the gender demographic. Like Pokemon Yellow, its quality-of-life enhancements from the base game are relatively minor, but it doesn’t inject any outside influences from other Pokemon media to discern it for a different player base. Crystal is Gold/Silver plus one, which inherently makes it the definitive version by clear definition.

Pokemon Red & Blue Review

 (Originally published to Glitchwave on 11/12/2023)

[Image from glitchwave.com]

Pokemon Red & Blue/Green

Developer: Game Freak

Publisher: Nintendo

Genre(s): JRPG

Platforms: Gameboy

Release Date: February 27, 1996

Pokemon is Nintendo’s biggest franchise, yet it is also not their biggest franchise. This contradictory statement won’t seem nonsensical if one reflects on Pokemon’s placement among the ranks of gaming’s most celebrated kings of the industry. Sure, if one references the raw data for the sake of argument, Mario has outsold the Pokemon games by a substantial margin, mostly due to predating Pokemon by a whole decade and managing to maintain relevance as the mascot for the company since his inception. One also can’t forget Mario’s whole “saved gaming from utter collapse” act of benevolence that kept the medium from being relegated to a quaint and embarrassing time capsule of 1980s trends alongside hairspray and Knight Rider. Mario is a messianic figure in gaming with no false prophets as potential contenders, which would ultimately make my argument that Pokemon is somehow bigger than video game Jesus a moot, sacrilegious point. Still, I stand by my statement because while Mario obviously towers over all in his gaming country, his legacy and impact are relatively confined to the parameters of his initial territory. Pokemon, on the other hand, has gold-standard assets in several other pockets of entertainment. The ubiquity of the anime series and trading card game along with the video games created a tidal wave of “pokemania” that swept over the nation in the late 90s/early 2000s so ferociously that it was like a Japanese cultural invasion was occurring. I was one of the several kids who was totally enraptured by Pokemon at the time, albeit at the tail end of the pandemonium due to being born in 1996, and I can tell you that the highs of pokemania were something that even Mario couldn’t even compete with. Were kids trading cards of Luigi on the school playgrounds during recess, clamoring for the hypothetically rare one where he has the Poltergust 2000 from Luigi’s Mansion? Not hardly. Mario’s goofy early 90s cartoon couldn’t even survive cancellation after only a single season, and the Pokemon anime series is still airing new episodes to this day. Pokemon is such a powerful cultural juggernaut across the world that it’s hard to recall that it stems from a series of games made by Nintendo, untethered to its source medium, unlike Mario.

Our first exposure to Pokemon with Pokemon Red/Green (with Blue replacing Green in the west) did not ignite Pokemania, as the IP needed the trinity of the games, anime, and cards to kick the madness into full gear. Still, Red/Blue served as the foundational wick needed to light this roaring candle in the near future. Because Red/Blue is the debut appearance of the entire Pokemon property, the game is the pinnacle of primitive Pokemon artifacts, and not only because the first game is inherently rough around the edges. You see, the trinity that comprises Pokemon’s massive universality keeps one another in check, with one asset influencing the other to maintain a sense of cohesion. Because Red/Blue predates all other Pokemon media by a few years, its presentation is so coarse that it can’t be sanded over. The Pokemon models, for instance, were forever shaped by how they were drawn from the anime, so their draft-level interpretations seen here are a tad jarring, to say the least. Look at how disturbingly chunky the de facto Pokemon mascot Pikachu is in his first depiction, signifying a primordial era in Pokemon’s history when Pikachu was another number in the Pokedex instead of the face of the franchise. They’ve slimmed Pikachu down extensively since then to maintain his cute little figure for the sake of appearances, and it’s wild to comprehend a time when Pikachu wasn’t Pokemon’s prime representative. That’s how far back Red/Blue warps us. Also, it doesn’t help Red/Blue’s case that it was developed for the original Gameboy practically as the swansong for Nintendo’s first handheld console. If one didn’t know, Pokemon is a play-on compound term for “pocket monsters,” so every mainline game has been developed for one of Nintendo’s handheld consoles to coincide with its cheeky wordplay. However, in the case of Red/Blue, this means that not only will the player have to contend with pixelated people and setpieces, but the visual primitiveness of black and white muting them to the point of aesthetic blankness. It’s no wonder why not even nostalgia saves Red/Blue in the eyes of the earliest Pokemon fanatics, as they suggest respecting the first game in the franchise while giving it a wide berth with engagement. However, for as primitive as Pokemon Red/Blue admittedly is, I think that the game still retains its initial appeal because it established the foundation that every subsequent, graphically superior mainline Pokemon title would continue to emulate.

The foundation in question is the sense of adventure and conquest felt through every Pokemon game’s progression. Pokemon is a fantasy game by definition, but the pocket monsters the player will find are not dragons (or at least the vast majority of them aren’t) and they are not hiking across the stormy countryside on a mission of chivalry assigned by a king. The world of Pokemon is molded by an air of modernity, another early example of what I like to refer to as a “domestic JRPG.” Walking around the various towns and cities in Pokemon Blue as the child protagonist from a birds-eye view will surely remind any experienced gamer of the “domestic JRPG” pioneer and fellow Nintendo IP EarthBound, only without color and absurd occurrences to disrupt reality. The young protagonist, whose canon name is the color of the game of the player’s choosing, is but a normal lad of early adolescent age who resides in a small town with his mom, spending his time playing the SNES in his room (the fashionable Nintendo console of the time). Apparently, pokemon are the crux of the Japan-inspired land of Kanto’s cultural and economic backbone, creating a society contingent on interacting, studying, and mastering the 151 different breeds of the wild beasts that roam throughout the country. Don’t worry, the society here doesn’t treat the notion of committing to a pokemon-related career with such insularity like in Harry Potter with wizardry. The player will see plenty of nurses, engineers, scientists, and fishermen along their journey who merely dabble with Pokemon as a hobby. In the protagonist's case, he yearns to be a pokemon master, the equivalent of becoming a professional athlete in the pokemon world. Pokemon Masters are held in the same glorious regard as rockstars, and that’s exactly what the adventure feels like. Every Pokemon game progresses to exude the sensation of a musician or band going on tour, stopping at the eight most populous areas in the country and challenging the gym leaders for their coveted badges before collecting all of them and finishing this renowned tour by defeating the Elite Four at the Indigo Plateau. Or, at least the tour is akin to playing in dive bars at first and then progressing to the pokemon equivalent of Madison Square Garden at the tail end of it. Who sponsors this tour for every eager, young pokemon master in the making is unclear. Even though this tour is being rendered by primitive visuals, this ambitious venture retains its spectacle nevertheless. By the time the player can conveniently come home or arrive organically back to Pallet Town after circling around Kanto, the wash of exhaustion and satisfying growth since they’ve left is still a palpable feeling.

But pokemon are not sterile tools on the player’s tour like instruments, amplifiers, or other pieces of equipment. The relationship between humans and pokemon is a precious bond with a deep, mutual understanding of each other's needs. Pokemon are more effective virtual pets than the Tamagotchi could ever dream to be, and the loving pact between man and his high-octane animal friends begins even before the player touches the grass past Pallet Town. In the player’s hometown is the laboratory of grandfatherly pokemon researcher Professor Oak, who has the player choose one of three pokemon as a “starter pokemon.” Picking a pokemon from a laboratory table at the beginning is one of the franchise’s most treasured tropes that persists for every single Pokemon game that would follow. These three pokemon are exclusive to this lab, so one must put their choice into heavy consideration. Red/Blue also begins the tradition of the three starters contrasting each other with the elemental typings of grass, fire, and water. Because they are the first of their kind, the spotted, plant amphibian Bulbasaur, the orange, flame-tailed lizard Charmander, and the aquamarine turtle with a squirrel tail Squirtle are some of the brightest stars synonymous with the Pokemon series. Their fully evolved forms are the photographic representatives for the box art of each respective version of the game, so they and their lineage probably shared equal billing as series mascots before the anime cemented the staticky yellow rat into the prestigious position so deeply that nothing can conceivably touch him. Like all things that come in pairs, the question of which one of the three Red/Blue starters triumphs over the other two goes down as a contentiously heated nerd debate like Kirk versus Picard or if Disney violated the legacy of Star Wars more brutally than George Lucas did with the prequels. Personally, I adore all three of the buggers, but I forewarn people against selecting Charmander because the player will be inadvertently signing themselves up for a glorified hard mode. Still, whether or not the pokemon you’ve chosen has doomed you to suffering prematurely, you’ll never want to stash it in Bill’s cramped, virtual pokemon storage box. Your first Pokemon’s growth coincides with your own because they’ve been present on the journey for the same length of time, and the connection that stems from their matchless tenure with you forms an aura of genuine sentimentality. Other JRPG parties simply cannot compete with Pokemon’s tenderness through pet-like companionship.

So why is Charmander the black sheep of the starting roster when he and his winged, dragon-like evolved form Charizard are easily the most popular of the three? Because Kanto’s odds seem to be stacked against the fiery little lizard. More so than incremental RPG leveling through experience, the core of Pokemon’s combat is a rock, paper, and scissors mechanic interconnected between fifteen distinctive elemental types that all Pokemon fall under. For example, the reason why Charmander is totally screwed early on is because its innate fire nature makes it weak against rock and water, the elemental themes for the first two Kanto gyms. By the time the player reaches bikini-clad water type leader Misty in Cerulean City, at least the player can fry her Pokemon into crispy fish sticks with Pikachu’s thundershock move. Good luck beforehand when you hit the brick wall (or rock wall in this context) with Brock’s rock Pokemon with any of the bugs scattered about Viridian Forest to assist your poor, defenseless Charmander. With Bulbasaur and Squirtle, rock-em sock-em Geodude and the intimidatingly massive rock basilisk Onix will immediately crumble, and that goes double for Misty’s pokemon when Bulbasaur absorbs all of their valuable moisture with his hearty, green leaves. If you couldn’t infer from the radically alternating outcomes, matching the opponent’s pokemon with their contrasting element is paramount to becoming victorious in a pokemon battle. The dynamics between grass, fire, and water are fairly self-explanatory, but how to combat the more cerebral types of pokemon is a tad confusing as their weaknesses aren’t as grounded in logic. Ground’s effectiveness towards rock and electric types is reasonable because of erosion and earthquakes sending society back to the stone age by knocking out their electrical power. However, I cannot fathom why it is also effective against poison. I also can’t comprehend why poison is weak against psychic unless the developers are trying to convey some pseudo-hippy bullshit that meditation can cure illness and disease.

Actually, this is really just a segway to discuss how psychic is the mischievous snake of an elemental type that disrupts the balance of Red/Blue’s mechanics. The few psychic types in the game, namely pokemon ``Nostradamus” Alakazam and the disturbing dream eater Hypno, are so overpowered that they will KO even those who aren’t especially vulnerable to psychic moves with one of their weaponized brain blasts so devastating they’d make Professor X’s nose start bleeding. There are two types that are technically effective against psychic types and no, they are not advanced calculus and a stealthily executed bullet to the back of the head. Bug and ghost are intended to be psychic’s weakness under the rationale that the two are common psychological fears, but the pokemon that fit the classifications are hardly the kryptonite vital in taking down these poke’men of steel. Bug types have abysmally low stats, the lowest of all the pokemon types on average, and most of them like Beedrill and Venomoth are bug-poison hybrids that will ultimately fall to the might of the psychic pokemon in seconds. An even crueler joke is that the only ghost pokemon line of Gastly, Haunter, and Gengar are half poison types as well, so catching one in Lavender Town will still leave the player shit out of luck. The developers engaged the “mind over matter” philosophy as a serious credo, causing a schism in the harmony of the almost perfect elemental mechanics of Pokemon. Dragon types are just as unfairly unbalanced but the player will only face three of them at the end of the game, and there are plenty of substantial ice pokemon with deadly freezing moves to thwart them.

Because no pokemon is perfect despite how a trainer may unconditionally feel about their precious partners, it’s essential to form an eclectically diverse team and build their strength. The tagline and core tenet of the Pokemon franchise is “gotta catch ‘em all!” which should ideally coax the player into sinking enough time and effort to round up all 151 of the beasts. Realistically, due to the finite limit of six per party, I’d suggest finding eight or so pokemon to use in a revolving squadron. The vast majority of Pokemon will not be handed to the player on a silver platter like their starter, which means they’ll be forced to proactively seek out worthy applicants in the tall grasses, abandoned buildings, caves, and by fishing to encounter wild pokemon. The last sliver of the wild pokemon’s health should signify that it’s time to chuck a pokeball to capture the creature if one is so inclined, and they’ll stay in their pint-sized incubator as a member of the player’s party until they are summoned for battle. I hear the interior of the ball is roomier than one might think, but I still remain skeptical. Besides one’s starter who is among the top percentile of base stats, I recommend adding a flying pokemon and a water pokemon for those who passed on Squirtle to the posse. HMs are moves that the player can teach their pokemon exactly like TMs, but the main difference is that the pokemon can use them outside of battle. Fly and Surf allow for a smoother retread of Kanto’s hilly and ruptured landscape whenever the player is forced to travel, plus they are highly effective moves during battle as well. The other two HMs, cut and strength, will merely produce a scratch on any foe, so designate the role of junior deputy HM bitch to a pokemon who can learn both whenever there is a long swath of traversal. Other than that, the key to an effective pokemon sextet is selecting those with adequate base stats relative to what your starter pokemon is lacking in elemental advantages.

But your starter pokemon, namely Charmander, won’t be a sitting duck who needs a battalion of support to survive for long. Through the typical leveling mechanic found in every JRPG comes one of the most interesting and engaging facets of Pokemon. At level 16 for each starter, they will evolve once into Ivysaur, Charmeleon, and Wartortle respectively, and then Venusaur, Charizard, and Blastoise around the level 32-36 range. Pokemon is really a window into a Darwinian case study, exploring how these creatures adapt to the growing severity of battle rather than their physical environments. As one could infer from the nature of evolution, the advanced forms of each Pokemon that are able to evolve are stronger and far more durable than their cuter, pre-evolved versions. While your Pokemon will become less cuddly, evolving is just as essential to battle as elemental pairings. Out of every pokemon capable of evolving, there isn’t a clearer indication of this point than with Magikarp. The useless, dopey orange fish who simply splashes about evolves into Gyarados at level 20, a sea beast behemoth so intimidating and terrifying that pirates probably tell spooky tales of it while drunk. You’ll be thankful that you didn’t chop up that Magikarp into sashimi and feed it to your other pokemon, as tempting as that sounds. There are a handful of pokemon that don’t evolve, but I’d say that Lapras, Tauros, and the fighting Hitmon brothers are already proficient with their base capabilities. For those that do evolve, fighting the pokemon of your fellow trainers who will challenge you once you cross their line of sight provides a consistent stream of battle experience. A small selection of pokemon can also evolve with elemental stones and by trading with another player via a Gameboy link cable. Not only is evolution important, but the process is also just as exciting for the player. While the stark familiarity one definitely has for every single one of the first 151 pokemon might void the element of surprise with what a pokemon will evolve into, the personal milestone of evolving a pokemon after using it for so long is still gratifying.

That epic aura felt from a Pokemon adventure is due to the chunks of content besides collecting gym badges. Any game’s pacing is always elevated by a consistent deviation from the main objective, and Pokemon succeeds in this aspect with the circular trek around Kanto. Gyms, where the player earns the badges, are located in metropolitan areas, surrounded by several other establishments that usually include a Pokecenter and a marketplace. As architectural sensibilities would dictate, the various cities of Kanto are not packed together like a bento box. Numbered interstate roads branch off of the cities, connecting them all by a sensible distance like an actual country. On the rural pathways between destinations lies the organic elongation of the pokemon journey. While I appreciate that these places flesh out the poke'nation of Kanto, I wish that caves didn’t comprise so goddamn many of them. Being bombarded by an endless slew of pokemon (mostly Zubat) while trying to navigate through the wet, labyrinthian darkness is a maddening excursion, and I’m always relieved and always scream FREEDOM whenever I find the exit. Sure, repel items will stave off the hordes of pokemon for a short period, but they are not purchasable before the instance of difficulty curve whiplash that is Mt. Moon, which is located directly right of the very first gym badge. Once the player is inhibited from traveling linearly to Saffron by both a road closing and a sleeping Snorlax parked along the path, this is the point where progressing around Kanto gets interesting. Navigating around the lazy, fat tub of lard before giving it a rude awakening with the sound of a flute gives the player the freedom of tackling on-edge Lt. Surge, cool and collected Erika, disciplined Koga, mysterious Sabrina, and the hot-headed Blaine in whichever order they please, a random roulette of five of eight gym badges. Along those zigzagging trajectories are a trove of sites unrelated to the main quest like the gamified Safari Zone in Fuschia City, the morbid pokemon gravesite of Lavender Tower where a disquieted Marowak spirit is in a state of unrest, and a relaxing ride on the ritzy S.S. Anne Cruise ship. Pokemon Red/Blue’s B plot that will often distract the player from collecting badges is Team Rocket, a uniformed organization of fundamentalists that use pokemon to enact acts of terrorism. They are led by the sinister Giovanni, who happens to be the final gym leader in Viridian City which might signify a prevailing corruption in the Pokemon League. Defending the peace from these whack jobs provides another solid quest parallel to the main one, but traversing through their places of operation is just as vexing as any of the caves. The black and white graphics visually muddle every floor of the eleven-story Silph Co. building, leaving me as hopelessly lost as a guinea pig in a test maze.

Finally gathering all of the gym badges from all across Kanto is always a prideful accomplishment, but the adventure is far from over. Over yonder, the western path from Viridian City is the final test of the player’s mettle that will prove their status as a pokemon master at Victory Road (which is yet another fucking cave). At the apex point of this vertical ascension is the Indigo Plateau where the Elite Four reside. If the gym leaders are high school teachers, the Elite Four collective are Ph.D. professors, the leading experts in their field in the Pokemon world. Each member of the Elite Four uses the strongest ensemble of pokemon revolving around a vague elemental theme, and the player will have to fight each of them in order without having all of their Pokemon faint. Failing to do so will result in starting from square one with the first Elite Four member, so the stakes are quite imposing. Stocking up on full restores will sadly not affirm a victory in this strict test of might, however. The Elite Four’s pokemon range from levels 53-62, and the total amount of experience gained through fighting trainers, Team Rocket, and gym leaders will not suffice in matching those numbers for six separate pokemon. To stand a fighting chance against these esteemed Kanto leaders, the player is forced to enact a blistering grinding regimen for so long that all the steps taken to get to this point will feel like forever ago. This tedious process persists for every Pokemon game afterward and is what I dread upon replaying each game in the series.

From all that I’ve described, the world of Pokemon seems like a brutally competitive place. What it takes to succeed in this environment is an ego-driven pursuit to be the best while callously dominating all that stands before you on your way up to the glorious ranks. I stated that a strength of Pokemon was a tender relationship with your pokemon, but using them to step over everyone all throughout the game could prove otherwise that the bond is purely transactional. What verifies that extra layer of emotional substance in Pokemon is comparing and contrasting the adventure arcs between the player and their rival. He started his venture the same day you did and what everyone can immediately deduce from his initial interaction is that he is an insufferable prick. He’s impatient, obnoxious, arrogant, and always undermining your abilities as a trainer from the get-go. Even though you beat him every time he decides to randomly pop his head out anywhere in Kanto, he always has the higher ground in some respects. His adventure is better financed because he’s Professor Oak’s grandson, plus the starter pokemon he chooses is always the type advantage of the one the player selects. Unexpectedly, the rivalry peaks when it’s revealed that your rival has defeated the Elite Four just before you arrived, and he’s the last challenge in the endurance gauntlet to snatch his newly awarded champion title for yourself. While his Pokemon are higher levels than even that of the Elite Four, your rival is somehow easier to subdue than any of the over-qualified members before him. Professor Oak makes an entrance after the final battle to lecture his grandson on treating his pokemon like servants instead of friends, the factor that led you to victory over the snooty little shithead. Pokemon establishes its warm ethos by presenting a foil to the protagonist, a lesson in how unadulterated aggression in battle is not the key to victory.

If you’ve played one Pokemon game, you’ve essentially played all of them. This is both a minor indictment of the series as a whole and a point of validity to the first outing of Pokemon Red/Blue. Its impact on the gaming landscape is something that no other Pokemon title can proudly bestow as some people are still lumping the entirety of the storied franchise with just its early Pokemania era. I completely understand why fans disassociate with this particular entry because of its primitiveness, which I began to sympathize with at certain points of jaggedness relating to its graphics. Besides the few instances of the visuals inadvertently causing more strife in the caves and other tangled dungeon-esque environments the game offers, criticizing the visuals of Red/Blue is a shallow assessment. Pokemon Red/Blue still retains that Pokemon magic by providing a poignant adventure of growth and self-actualization.

(Originally published to Glitchwave on 11/20/2023)

[Image from glitchwave.com]

Pokemon Yellow

Category: Expanded Game

Release Date: September 12, 1998

The Pokemon anime is arguably the biggest franchise-defining factor in the trinity of its assets. Television has a much wider audience pool than gaming could possibly imagine, so it's likely that the largest common denominator discovered Pokemon through stumbling upon it while flipping through channels and making their own assessments about this bewildering fad from across the Pacific Pond. Its higher popularity compared to the niche of its video games and trading cards dictated the course of how the franchise will operate from here on out. Refer to the rising star power of Pikachu as the definitive figure of the franchise because of his deuteragonist role in the anime, and you’ll agree with my stance. The anime has influenced all of the other facets of Pokemon in sizable doses, but the biggest extent to which the developers tried to capitalize on the anime’s substantial popularity is with Pokemon Yellow.

Pokemon Yellow is basically Red/Blue with anime protagonist Ash at the helm of the adventure as opposed to the Red or Blue character avatars. Ash receives a Pikachu as his starter instead of giving him the choice of three different pokemon, and it cannot evolve into a Raichu because of Pikachu's aversion to change in the anime. However, it does adorably follow around Ash everywhere like a lost cat, and this additional interactivity from the starter Pokemon should ideally increase the personable bond between a boy and his pokemon. Gary is the immutable name of the rival character, who will be granted an Eevee that evolves based on the player’s performance during his encounters. Jessie and James, the flashy, incompetent Team Rocket duo from the anime are recurring bosses who attempt to steal Ash’s Pikachu, along with their talking Meowth who sounds like he’s from Brooklyn. The progression of Ash’s Kanto adventure also subtly directs him toward the same team he has in the anime, which is why the player can eventually receive all three starter pokemon from Red/Blue. Unlike Pikachu, all of these starters can evolve, meaning that the player could potentially have three of the strongest pokemon in Kanto of differing types on their person. Sweet!

From a gaming standpoint, at least Pokemon Yellow uses its hindsight to remaster some of the jarring aspects present in Red/Blue, and there sure were a lot of them. For starters, locking the player to electric-type Pikachu when Brock is shortly on the horizon seems like a cruel joke, but fighting-type Mankey is present in Viridian Forest to break Brock’s rock pokemon in half. The pokemon sprites resemble those of the anime, and the drawings of a bonafide illustrator surpass that of the binary pixels that rendered the first drafts of every pokemon’s early designs The colors of the Gameboy Color console that succeeded the Gameboy also allow these refined pokemon depictions flourish, along with a color-coded health bar that coincides with the damage done to a pokemon in battle.

Is Pokemon Yellow a licensed game? It functions as a truncated version of the events of the popular anime series, which practically runs parallel to the story of Red/Blue with a bunch of dumb shit injected in between to elongate the length into a TV series. It may have several perks that the original Red/Blue doesn’t, but it lacks the same scope of those games because the player is assisting Ash on his path to glory as opposed to one for their own taking. Pokemon Yellow is Pokemon Red/Blue with gimmicks that would solely appeal to fans of the anime who might foolishly believe that this is a licensed adaptation of the Pokemon anime (or at least at the time). Frankly, I’m offended at Game Freak’s gall to retcon their original vision to accommodate this demographic.

Pokemon GO Review

 (Originally published to Glitchwave on 4/25/2022)

[Image from igdb.com]

Pokemon GO

Developer: Niantic

Publisher: The Pokemon Company, Niantic

Genre(s): Simulation, JRPG

Platforms: IOS/Android

Release Date: July 6, 2016

I’m not usually the person who jumps on any hype train; in fact, I’ve often voiced dissension about fads in general. When it comes to something I’m passionate about, I tend to march to the beat of my own drum. I consistently explore the annals of the media I consume like a kid looking under rocks to see what different kinds of bugs live in their backyard. Admittedly, I’d have more friends if I was more proactive with current trends. However, attempting to do this when I was younger (approximately around my early adolescent years) just proved to be exhausting to maintain momentum. My peers would listen to the top charting albums, see the latest blockbusters, and play the newest video games just to erase them from their consciousness after about a week to move on to the next thing. Regarding video games, whether or not they would finish a game was always an inconsistent variable as to when they were going to toss it to the wayside. Everything they consumed was an “in one ear and out the other” scenario, and yet this is the way they preferred it. My adolescence taught me many things about people and the world, but I learned something important regarding art and entertainment. Many people look at art and entertainment through a social lens, not an artistic one. Their purpose for indulging in media is so they won’t have to suffer in solitude on the playground or at the water cooler. It’s absolutely fine if you fall under this category, but I cannot see it in the same light. That being said, I’m glad I proactively joined the Pokemon Go craze in the summer of 2016.

I have to disclaim that I do not actively avoid new things for fear of seeming like a desperate contrarian. I will only invest interest in something new if that interest was piqued initially (and if I can afford it). Given that Pokemon was once a rabid obsession of mine as a child, and I had a revival period in my first year of college, Pokemon Go immediately activated my sense of curiosity. Besides its lack of initial monetary fee to play it, the captivating point of interest for me was Pokemon Go’s initiative to “catch em all.” Somewhere along the line, the Pokemon franchise forgot this core tenant of what made kids eat up the franchise like birthday cake. In 2016, the children who were introduced to Pokemon with this indelible sentiment were all adults and might have still carried a nostalgic wonderment for Pokemon in their consciousness. The software developer Niantic capitalized on Pokemon’s immortal initiative to catch 'em all by emulating the appeal of catching Pokemon through the advent of mobile technology. Suddenly, Pokemon were appearing in people’s backyards and on city streets, encountering Pokemon almost exactly like in the games. Pokemon Go was the closest realization to my endearingly dorky wish as a seven-year-old for Pokemon to exist in the real world.

Apparently, I was not the only kid with this wish. Pokemon Go exploded to heights not seen since the franchise's inception in the late 90s. Pokemon Go pandemonium swamped the summer of 2016 as streets were bustling with people scampering around to catch all these creatures. I distinctly remember going to the nearest metropolitan area near my house with my brother to play the game and was astounded by how the streets were swarming with Pokemon Go players. It was around 11:00 PM when all but the bars were closed, and I still could not find a place to park because there were so many people. Once my brother and I joined the raucous, several excitable people exclaimed about the Pokemon they encountered and sprinted down the streets to catch what they had found. The only people around at the time were people in the bars, mostly boomers who made fun of all the “youngins” for playing Pokemon Go. Even though they were of an older generation and inebriated, they all knew exactly what we were doing. My friends drove fifteen minutes to my house after hearing Snorlax in my area, like Pokemon Go was like the new exodus for the information age.

So how and when did the hype of Pokemon Go dissipate? Pokemon Go remained relevant in the public eye until the end of July, the same month the game was released in 2016. Pokemon Go had the majesty and short impact of a shooting star, as is the case for most fads. While one should expect trends like these to be fleeting, there are some core reasons why Pokemon Go didn’t last beyond July of 2016. Many people credit Pokemon Go’s downfall to Hillary Clinton, an old, out-of-touch reptilian woman who referenced Pokemon Go during a campaign rally as a cringe-inducing attempt to cater to younger voters. A more likely factor is the many casualties people caused while playing Pokemon Go, namely distracted driving and trespassing. It could have been due to the procedurally generated Pokestops at tasteless locations such as the Pentagon and even concentration camps. My experience with the app's downfall came when the mecca, as mentioned earlier in my area, fell victim to record-breaking flooding that destroyed the town. After that, Pokemon Go in my area was kaputt. Naturally, my friends quit playing after that, and most of them closed the app for good. I, on the other hand, kept playing Pokemon Go, and it has slowly reinvigorated itself after its initial peak of popularity.

The factor that actually contributed to Pokemon Go’s downfall was that beyond the notion of catching Pokemon, there wasn’t much else that the app offered players. Catching Pokemon was a simple mechanic that required nothing but tossing a Pokeball at a pokemon with an enclosing ring to determine the success rate. After catching a Pokemon, the player would earn three candies for that pokemon, and after a certain amount, the player could evolve that Pokemon. This simplified gameplay element has not changed throughout Pokemon Go’s lifespan, but it didn’t necessarily need to. I think it’s a fine way to catch Pokemon, and this mechanic even crossed over into a mainline Pokemon game. The problem was that it got a bit repetitive over constant pokemon encounters. Niantic’s solution was to incorporate other methods of capturing pokemon and evolving them. Pokemon eggs have been a series staple since the second generation, and the surprise that Pokemon will pop out of the egg is always an exciting gamble. Physical activity was always a byproduct of Pokemon Go, so Niantic found a way to incorporate this into catching pokemon. Similarly to how it works in the game, the player will walk a certain length to hatch an egg. Pokemon Go offers three different kinds of eggs, hatching at various walking lengths depending on the egg. The player can also pick a partner to walk with to obtain more of that pokemon’s candy at a certain distance. Pokemon Go’s daily challenges incentivize rewards for catching pokemon like only using curveballs, getting a streak of great throws, etc. Remember that song one kid wrote called “I Play Pokemon Go Every Day?” The daily challenges were enough to keep me playing almost every day to cease the eventual tedium of catching pokemon, and my daily walks could be complemented by hatching some pokemon.

Pokemon Go was made to bank on the whimsical nature of nostalgia. The pokemon offered at Pokemon Go’s launch was the original 151, the most famous lineup of pokemon that ring familiar to most people. In 2016, Nintendo had just released the franchise's seventh generation of pokemon, accumulating up to 800 of the buggers. My biggest anticipation was wondering if Niantic would go to the trouble of adding every pokemon from each subsequent generation, especially after the game’s popularity had dissipated only after a month. Soon enough, in February of 2017, Niantic added every pokemon from Gold and Silver and every Pokemon from Ruby and Sapphire in December of that year. Since then, they’ve been adding a new generation of Pokemon annually and are now up to the seventh generation, the newest era at Pokemon Go’s launch. I might not be familiar with the pokemon after a certain point, but adding new pokemon is a fantastic way to keep people playing. Some of my friends who had deleted the app started to play again at the announcement of incorporating a new generation of pokemon.

Another problem with Pokemon Go’s algorithm was the spawn location of the pokemon. Niantic tried to make the geography of the pokemon encounters loyal to the games, such as grass pokemon in rural locations, electric and poison pokemon in urban locations, water pokemon in wet locations, fire and ground pokemon in dry locations, etc. However, this system is incredibly impractical in real life. The real world’s geography is much less condensed than the Pokemon world. Unless the player has supernatural teleportation abilities, they are limited to the kinds of pokemon that fit their location. The game’s encounter rate also favored people living in more populated areas, with more pokemon popping up at once. People in rural areas were not only restricted to the same types of pokemon but at much slower encounter rates as if the app ran like dial-up internet in those places. In late 2017, Niantic fixed this predicament by shifting the encounter rates not by geography but by weather conditions. Niantic made a system that coincided appropriately with the types of pokemon. For example, rain would garner a higher spawn rate of water, electric, and bug pokemon for fairly apparent reasons. A sunny, cloudless day would inspire fire, grass, and ground pokemon to rear their heads over the surface. I thank this update for my extensive Pokedex entries because I refuse to fly out to California/Arizona to catch Charmanders and Geodudes out of principle.

By the time I transferred to a four-year university in 2017, playing Pokemon Go became SERIOUSLY uncool. It could be forgiven for the rest of 2016 that I was clearly looking for pokemon to catch at my community college, but it would be a massive social faux pas to be caught playing it from 2017 onward. I remember around early 2019, I was walking to class at my university, and a girl was teasing her boyfriend for “catching pokemon” when he slightly wandered off the beaten path for a bit. I was a little taken aback after hearing this, for I was actually playing Pokemon Go at this moment. The slight ribbing this man received would escalate to utter humiliation for me for keeping this fad alive three years after its release. However, it surprised me that other people at my university were maintaining the longevity of Pokemon Go as well. Coincidentally, many people from my social group were still playing Pokemon Go, and Niantic added plenty of features to make Pokemon Go a more social experience. The player can send their friends gifts (an overhaul of them if you ask me) with a smattering of goodies inside, like visiting a Pokestop. Doing so will increase a “friendship level,” adding more perks to sending gifts. Niantic has found a way to preserve the social aspect of Pokemon Go far past collecting pokemon together.

There is another feature in having friends in Pokemon Go, but it falls under a bigger umbrella than a simple social aspect. Pokemon duels are as essential to Pokemon as catching them and were the largest omission during the launch era of the game. Niantic soon added gym battles where the player could champion over a location with their chosen team, but the combat was far too streamlined. The addition of raid battles helped spur more intrigue, but they didn’t feel like Pokemon. Niantic’s solution to supplementing Pokemon’s other big appeal was Team Rocket and the battle league. The notorious syndicate from Pokemon would appear at random at pokestops and take a portion of items with them. Battling six grunts will give the player a “rocket radar,” which will find the location of a Team Rocket boss, including the enigmatic Giovanni. These battles include using three pokemon per team with two shields to block charged special attacks, making the combat portion seen in the gyms slightly more intricate and engaging. The new features also translate into battle leagues, where players can fight random people worldwide for a series of prizes per win. The turn-based combat Pokemon fans are used to is more nuanced, but this system is supplementary enough to warrant plenty of engagement where the gym battles didn’t.

As of this day, I still play Pokemon Go on most days of the week. While most people remember Pokemon Go because of the phenomenon that occurred long ago, I had to reach back in the crevices of my memory banks to recall how Pokemon Go was that fateful summer lucidly. They’ve taken the time to develop Pokemon Go to the point of competency. Maybe if the game had all the features they’ve added since then, it wouldn’t have fizzled out as quickly. I persevered with Pokemon Go after so many detractors lost faith in it. I’m impressed that Niantic has maintained its killer app (no pun intended) after so many people gave up on it long ago. The question is this: is Pokemon Go now at the point where it rivals a mainline Pokemon game? Sadly, no. Pokemon Go still has many attributes that I find unsavory about most mobile games. I might come across as a hypocrite and contradict all that I’ve said. Still, I feel like playing Pokemon as often as I do feels more like a habit that comes from boredom and or procrastination more than anything else like masturbation and watching cat video compilations on Youtube. Am I reviewing a video game here, or am I reviewing a vice? My repeat plays of Pokemon Go do not fulfill me with the same sense of enthrallment as playing Dark Souls, Paper Mario, or any of my all-time favorite games. At this point, all I can give is kudos to Niantic for not giving up on Pokemon Go and at least offering more for those few that still play it.