Pokemon Black/White Review

 (Originally published to Glitchwave on 12/18/2025)

[Image from glitchwave.com]

Pokémon Black/White

Developer: Game Freak

Publisher: Nintendo

Genre(s): JRPG

Platforms: DS

Release Date: September 18, 2010

“Hey, did you hear that there’s gonna be a new Pokémon game coming out soon?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna get it?”

“...Nah”

That was a line of conversation that occurred between a friend and I during our freshman year of high school in early 2011, right before the North American release of Pokémon Black & White. As you can probably tell from the curt answers to his casual inquiries, I did not give half of one fuck about Pokemon’s fifth generational mainline entry. No, it wasn’t solely because retaining an interest in Pokémon during my adolescence would’ve severely deepened any social ostracization I might have been facing, but because I genuinely couldn’t have cared less about the franchise I once loved. Once that key hormonal shift occurred, horror films, heavy metal, and the swaying hips of my female classmates were my primary interests, while Nintendo kept trucking along with its money-making monster catcher. After my pituitary gland had calmed down and I was no longer situated in a stressful social environment, Pokémon once again had relevance in my life after experiencing a revitalized interest in gaming during college. Out of the three Pokémon generations (that existed circa 2014) that I had glossed over, the fifth one in particular piqued my interest during this renaissance period. Somehow, several iterations onward and a decade after Pokemania was deader than disco, apparently, Pokémon’s quality had managed not to peak. In fact, Pokémon’s fifth-generation entries, existing on opposite ends of the color spectrum, were rumored to be the series’ finest outing. This praise might have been since the Pokémon fanbase had been halved since the franchise's popularity peak, leaving the staunch enthusiasts and fresh-faced children as the sources of this laudation. Still, I’m practically one degree away from a “gen-wunner” who abandoned the series after it had gone stale in the greater pop culture zeitgeist while also entering double-digit ages, and I have to admit that the hype surrounding Pokémon Black/White is perfectly justified.

Hypothetically, if Pokémon Black/White had been released in the earlyish 2000s, say, as the franchise's third generational representative when I was still interested in the series, my fanaticism would’ve received a fatal blow, making me renounce the franchise forevermore. I was greatly disappointed when Pokémon Ruby/Sapphire chose a modest selection of pokemon from previous generations to transfer over to Hoenn’s subtropical chain of islands, but I imagine that Black/White’s decision to wipe the slate completely clean and only offer the 156 pokemon expressly created for the newest title would’ve made me inconsolably hysterical. Fortunately, the wisdom that comes with adulthood allows me to appreciate Game Freak’s integrity and its conviction to preserve the allure of its series with distinctiveness. Still, the Pokemon Black/White frontrunners in question display a few telltale signs of creativity fatigue, if their designs and conceptual inspirations are any indication.

This plague of unsavory aspects amongst this vast crop of creatures is prevalent throughout, but I’ll begin my bagging on them with the three that welcome the player’s adventure: the new trio of starter pokemon. As per the customs of the pokelab that prepares amateur trainers with their first pokemon, the contrasting elemental variances of grass, fire, and water remain as the prime choices for the player to consider. Personally, I say obscure your sights, point your finger, and catch a tiger by its toe, because there isn’t a single one out of the pack that stands out as the exemplary pick. Sure, Oshawott attempts to continue the streak of water-type supremacy that Mudkip and Piplup established, as I’m sure the developers were saving an adorable otter for a rainy day to be propped up in the starting selection and occupy that special spot in the player’s hearts, thus squelching the competition. Admittedly, Oshawott’s cuteness cannot be maintained as the player accrues experience with it, but its final form, Samurott, is a shocking, unsightly monstrosity that looks like the result of a horrific mutation rather than a natural metamorphosis. Not only does the addition of two hind legs contradict the concept of evolution, but the boring, bog-standard single-typing from its Oshawott origins persists. The grass-type Snivy also indicates that Game Freak should’ve boned up on Charles Darwin’s Origin of Species, for the long-snouted leafy reptile sheds its limbs and becomes a fully-fledged serpent when it becomes Serperior. The only physical characteristic it keeps well into maturation is that smug, self-satisfied grin on its face. Given that Serperior is also a single-type third form like its blue, wet cohort, what makes it so confident that the professor won’t end up tossing it in the trash bin where many other grass starters end up? Tepig’s evolved forms of Pignite and Emboar are the only ones that feature dual typing, but that additional elemental attribute is ironically what makes this spicy swine the most offensive of them all. Would you like to wager a guess which typing is tacked onto the evolved incarnations of Tepig? Correctamundo: Pignite and Emboar are yet another fucking fire/fighting combination that Combusken and Blaziken debuted. If Monferno/Infernape were like compromising with Pepsi, then Black/White’s insanely derivative fire duo is like being offered RC Cola. If this is a restaurant’s only cola option, run like Hell, for there are rats in the kitchen and they’re trying to poison you. Never before has picking a starter pokemon evoked the displeasure of voting for a political party candidate during an election, choosing based on which is the least objectionable.

Considering that the number of new pokemon in Black/White exceeds that of any previous Pokemon generation, surely at least a handful of them aren’t wretch-worthy wastes of cartridge space. You’d be correct, but the exceptional ones are few and far between in this regional Pokedex. I suppose I should give my commendations to the choice cuts before I begin my encompassing rant. Immediately, I admire the plethora of commonly caught pokemon who evolve twice and can therefore retain their prized position in the player’s posse as the game’s challenges grow steeper. Stoutland, for example, is the third form of Lillipup, the Black/White equivalent of a Rattata or Sentret for its normal typing and early availability. Unlike the previous two mentioned, this scruffy hound is formidable enough to be a contender for challenging the Elite Four instead of simply being relegated to the job of disposing of obstructions found on the field. I’m sure Timburr’s strength matches that of the classic fighting family of Machop, considering the rectangular object they hold gets heavier and heavier as they evolve. Seismitoad may be a combination of Poliwag’s conceptual evolution and Wooper’s water/ground elemental typing in a far uglier package, but who am I to judge a book by its cover when catching and training Tympole is so convenient? Scolipede is swift and scary enough to bolster the sour reputation of bug-poison pokemon, and the red and black Krookodile looks as terrifyingly vicious as Sharpedo with the bipedal physical stature of a pseudo-legendary pokemon. By the way, the earliest form of every single second evolution pokemon I’ve mentioned is present in the wild grasses before the fourth gym leader, so the player’s first few pokemon pals could certainly be in consideration for the task of tackling the Elite Four. For those who only evolve once or haven’t the capacity for drastic transformative growth at all, there are still plenty of standout picks. I, for one, adore Drilbur, whose innate digging habits as a mole are enhanced when its evolved form, Excadrill, sprouts a metallic drill in its evolution to wade through the earth with the grace of an Olympic swimmer. It’s a good thing that karate black belts, Throh and Sawk, are separated as respective version exclusives because they’d receive constant comparisons to Sesame Street’s iconic platonic life partners if shown together. Scrafty showcases so much spunk with its baggy pants and mohawk combination; the high-voltage spider Galvantula is quite fetching with its yellow glow; Cubchoo and Beartic are Teddiursa and Ursaring if you put them in a freezer for a few hours; phantom stone giant Golurk is the Pokémonification of the “Der Golem” monster of Yiddish folklore, etc. In listing all of the new pokemon, I find myself surprised that I’m in a position where I have to limit the selections I mention for brevity’s sake. Sort of speaks to the overall quality of Black/White’s extensive roster, doesn’t it?

Still, the last pokemon mentioned in the previous paragraph does admittedly veer towards the prevalent issue that plagues as many pokemon in Black/White’s roster in equal number to the exemplary ones. To preface my point of contention, I need to ask a question: how many of you are familiar with The Brave Little Toaster? In this 1987 animated film, a group of sentient, commonplace household appliances embark on a quest to find their human child who has disappeared, worrying that this young boy has forsaken them because he hasn’t been showing them the attention that he formerly did. On a thematic level, this film richly conveys obsolescence, abandonment, and the atrophying of a long-term relationship. However, the prevailing, nagging aspect surrounding these heavy themes and what ultimately sullies them stems from this issue: why and how the hell would a child feel any sort of profound attachment towards household appliances, and ones that he wouldn’t be interested in interacting with like a vacuum cleaner anyway? No wonder Toy Story persisted as the household name for animated films involving cognizant objects, for toys are far more sensible for a child to harbor a sentimental connection towards. Pets are also non-human companions that a kid could sensibly form a bond with, which is a factor in Pokémon’s widespread success. This is why when pokemon start resembling inanimate objects and commodities like a candle (Litwick), a snowflake (Cryogonal), and a fucking double-scooped ice cream cone (Vanilluxe. Seriously, what the good goddamn have you been smoking, Game Freak?), it’s difficult to perceive them as companions. One could argue that the spirit inside Cofagrigus is the focal point of that pokemon’s essence, but why then does its name allude to the ceremonial encasement and not the kooky limbs protruding from it? Klink is just a twin set of gears with googly eyes attached, and the fact that more metallic pieces are simply added to it per evolutionary stage is so half-assed that it’s hilarious. One could also argue that Trubbish and Garbodor are repurposed variations of Grimer and Muk’s conceptual theme: toxic waste build-up becomes so unmanageable that it literally becomes a monster. However, the vacant, tortured look of these garbage (literally) pokemon piles is far more pathetic than Muk’s menace, in which they express that their existence is a stifling ordeal they want extinguished immediately. Speaking of Grimer and Muk, they, along with pokemon like Voltorb and Unown, could present the argument that non-humanoid or non-animaloid pokemon have had a presence in the Pokedex since the series’ glory days, and I should cut their successors some slack. Still, there was purpose and intent behind the inanimate natures of these few pokemon, an item capsule mimic to dupe unsuspecting players and the alphabet of a cryptic, archaic language that adds mystique to the ancient ruins of Johto, respectively. Without any applicable outlying context, it gives off the disillusioning impression that the developers are now compelled to tap into crafting creatures around things that they once swore to use sparingly when they still had that creative spark and integrity.

Maybe the reason why Black/White doesn’t carry over any of the previous Pokémon games is that the title’s setting is so far removed from the rest of the Pokémon world. Apparently, the remaining regions of Japan weren’t interesting enough to be reimagined into a Pokémon-centric society, so the developers decided to study abroad for international inspiration. I’d be intrigued initially just by that prospect alone, but my attention is especially piqued because Unova is Game Freak’s depiction of my home country: the United States of America. Pretend that the instrumental rendition of “The Star-Spangled Banner” started playing just now. Given that I should be well-versed in my homeland’s culture and iconography, it’ll be amusing to see how a foreign (to me) team illustrates it with the creative liberties they are allowed. I trusted that Japan shared a respect and appreciation for the USA’s culture as we tend to mutually do with theirs, so there are no depictions of mass obesity, religious and/or nationalistic fundamentalism, gun-toting ignoramuses, or any other stereotypical caricatures running rampant throughout Unova. Instead, Game Freak seems to hone in on the geographical/cultural diversity and architectural modernity that is pervasive across the collective of fifty states. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that there is a desert located in Unova’s southwestern section, as the blistering sandstorms could evoke the arid, unpopulated sections of Arizona or New Mexico. (American) Football, or at least the ubiquity of professional sports, is a prominent cultural force, and amusement parks are cultural centerpieces unseen in any urban Pokémon environment beforehand. Nacrene City is an artistically inclined city with a museum as its cultural piece de resistance, like Philadelphia or my beloved Baltimore. The rain pours on Mistralton City as harshly as a city like Seattle, and Driftveil is a rough-and-tumble port town like Houston. Although I might just be making that comparison because the city’s gym leader, Clay, is the spitting image of a grizzled Texan man, complete with an oversized cowboy hat. Castelia City is unmistakably Unova’s NYC, a winding urban sprawl where skyscrapers eclipse the view of anything in one’s peripheral vision. Its multiple pathways are frankly byzantine, with so many people congesting the streets that the player automatically fills in the blanks of a cacophonous city soundscape even if the game doesn’t outright provide it. Beyond the overwhelming spectacle of this area’s colossal, all-encompassing architecture, what is also equally impressive is the bridge the player travels on en route to Castelia. The three-dimensional angles used to display the suspended mass of architectural support really accentuate the sheer size of it, causing me genuine awe-stricken speechlessness like I was an immigrant docking at bay on Ellis Island. I couldn’t believe that this was rendered on the same handheld system as Diamond/Pearl, and the scene really dawned on me of how far the series has come since every building was but a pixelated blip on a top-down screen. It is absolutely magical.

Flaunting the highest, unprecedented graphical flair seen in a Pokémon title is certainly impressive, but Black/White also showcases a treasure trove of new features and quality-of-life enhancements in addition to its marvelous presentation. Immediately upon pressing Start, the game will ask the player if they’d like to access the “C-Gear,” which is an all-purpose device that rearranges the bottom half of the handheld’s screen to include easy access to all things connected to the World Wide Web. Since I’m strictly a lone wolf in all of my Pokémon endeavors, I always opted to silence this gadget even if I admired its niftiness. However, one thing I couldn’t possibly avoid was the weather, specifically the temperature and other environmental conditions that correlate with the four seasons. Besides the subtle aesthetic changes that occur, the time of year also shuffles the likelihood of specific pokemon appearing in the wild (and the appearance of the darling deer pokemon, Deerling) and the triggering of various events. While adding a seasonal spice to the foregrounds provides a deeper layer of immersion to the player’s journey, what puzzles me is that each season is cycled every month and resets every fourth month (ie., the pattern of January, May, September being “Spring,” while February, June, October being “Summer” and so forth). What is this bullshit, the metric system? The Pokecenters have converged with the Pokemarts for a one-stop shop convenience of full healing and preparing for mobile healing in increments on the road. A gym’s “host” (the guy who greets the player at the entrance) will grant the player a preliminary “fresh water” with the same healing properties as a “super potion.” Most importantly, the game’s RPG action is silky smooth like a dream, ironically so considering how Diamond/Pearl ran like a lung with emphysema on the same system. High performance power, experimentation, AND tons of streamlined amenities? Black/White is really treating the players to the life of luxury.

Still, despite its overall agreeability, Black/White still manages to be one of the more challenging titles in the Pokemon series. In saying that, I'm happy to report that the steeper duels of Black/White stem from meatier turn-based gameplay instead of the hiccups and poor decisions of Diamond/Pearl. Elemental properties are obviously still factored into the result of a victorious battle, but Black/White pauses that conceit for a brief moment during the earlier duration of the adventure. Depending on which starter pokemon the player chose, the corresponding gym leader of the trio will contrast their (poison) pick with their elemental weakness in the form of the simian siblings (Pansage, Pansear, Panpour). The following gym fight with Lenora in Nacrene City evokes particularly painful memories of being bulldozed by Whitney’s Miltank as a small child traveling throughout Johto, for the fighting type that I desperately needed to penetrate her Herdier and Watchog offenses was just enough out of reach to put me in a state of despair. When I could eventually diversify my team to cover all of the necessary offensive bases, my opponent’s pokemon tended to buff themselves with stat increases and inflict debilitations that still proved to be quite as damning as blunt, direct offensive force. Admittedly, this strategy has always been employable, but the methodical, subtle, and sneaky approach seems to be far more fashionable in Unova. Factor in that tons of new attacks, status manipulators, and secondary physical abilities are floating around in the mix with an entirely unfamiliar smorgasbord of pokemon, and Black/White becomes dangerously less and less predictable as the game progresses. However, in another instance of sweet irony, somehow, Unova’s Elite Four proved to be rather unremarkable. I’ll kiss Game Freak’s feet with complete gratitude for lowering the levels of their Pokémon to reduce the classic grinding regime that I’m absolutely sick and tired of putting an inordinate amount of time into. Still, the so-called “elite” of an entire region exuded a bush-league amateurism that barely stimulated my sweat glands in the slightest.

The probable reason why Unova’s Elite Four felt like a facile flash in the pan is that a gauntlet of esteemed pokemon trainers has now become a simple formality as opposed to a climactic rite of passage before the player can be ushered into Pokemon prestige. The Pokemon series has finally realized that the zero-to-hero conquest arc is no longer as gratifying a power fantasy as it was when Pokemon was lighting the world ablaze, or at least not at the forefront of the primary narrative. Between the classic ascension to regional league domination, Black/White is the first game to truly reverse the precedence of the content that is usually the lettuce and tomato of the Pokémon sandwich, added for texture to the juicy meat of the narrative burger. Specifically, the mission to defeat, disband, or dispose of Team Plasma, the latest cultish coalition spreading their noxious influence around the Pokeworld like a pestilence. However, whereas Team Rocket’s motives were driven by lowbrow gangster greed, and the three other syndicates by complete lunacy, the tenets of Team Plasma are surprisingly quite virtuous…technically. The grey-clad, hooded (and homogeneously ginger, weirdly enough) clan has banded together for the purpose of pokémon liberation, separating the creatures from their “oppressive” existences as organic weapons whose worth is evaluated by how they represent their ego-centered human masters in combat. Their initiative sounds perfectly noble and ethically righteous on paper, but their roles as antagonists are made crystal clear in how they attempt to enact their goals through mafioso harassment and violence towards common trainers. Blatant hypocrisy even bleeds through their morality mission when they themselves cause physical harm to a trainer’s pokemon in trying to seize them. Hmm, Team Plasma sure sounds similar to an organization in the real world that has been quite critical of Pokémon in the past, but I’ll leave it anonymous because this group tends to assault any and all dissenters with a crack team of lawyers. Unlike all previous problematic gangs that plagued the Pokeworld in series past, where the line of morality was definitely crossed, Team Plasma actually presents a genuine ethical dilemma: are we, the player, complicit in abusing innocent animals for sport? Pokémon are admittedly burned, poisoned, frozen, electrocuted, etc. in the name of the player’s reputation, and it’s difficult to say if they’d succumb to those severe wounds if PokéCenter’s healing technology wasn’t incredibly efficient. Still, while the player is obviously intended to side with the game’s argument that the bond between man and beast is reciprocal, I actually have some anecdotal evidence for their claim. My very first pokemon was Cyndaquil when I played Pokémon Silver as a seven-year-old child. When that little flaming anteater grew up to become a strapping volcano-backed Typhlosion, I experienced a sensation of pride and sentimentality for its younger form like a parent watching their child walk across the stage to receive their high school diploma. Yes, I became irrationally emotional over a digital blob of black and orange pixels because of the time we shared. If Team Plasma isn’t moved by my story, then they truly are just a bunch of sanctimonious assholes no better than the obnoxious evil teams that came before them. Yet, their self-righteousness is what makes them the most interesting of them all.

Team Plasma preserves its prominence in Black/White’s greater narrative through the player’s rival, a relationship trope in Pokémon that hasn’t been this strong since we were gritting our teeth at Blue’s arrogant ass back in Kanto. No, Cheren and Bianca might seem like they fit the respective role initially, considering they both procure the leftover starter pokemon and chronically challenge the player with said starter pokemon throughout their journey. However, I’d hardly describe the relationship between the two and the player as heated or contentious, as a rivalry should connote. Cheren comes close to fulfilling that classic rival role due to his frustrated feelings of inadequacy that stem from his inability to dominate the player in a duel, with his perfectionist, anal-retentive personality blinding him to the fact that it takes more than fancy book learnin’ to become an outstanding pokémon trainer. Meanwhile, Bianca is relatively similar to May from Hoenn, stumbling through the Pokémon League with a bubbly aloofness like Cher taking her driving test in Clueless. Eventually, Cheren realizes the nuance in Pokémon training while Bianca comes to terms with the fact that she’s a virgin who can’t duel and decides that her true calling is elsewhere. Why is it always the female “rival” who is the incompetent one? Anyways, while I’d say that neither of these two matches the player’s Pokémon training prowess nor exhibits the interpersonal tension of a rivalry, they’re still worth mentioning because the Pokémon series has never given any of its recurring secondary characters this amount of screen presence or this dynamic of a character arc.

Rather than the player’s hometown peers, the player’s true heated equal in the Pokémon League is the guy with green hair who is referred to only by the single letter “N.” One may wonder why I’ve prescribed N with the rival label, considering that he seems to fit the stark antagonist role as the supreme leader of Team Plasma commanding the crude Pokémon liberation operation. He certainly exhibits plenty of villainous character traits in his motives and demeanor. Conversing with him at the heights of Nimbasa’s Ferris wheel even evoked the chilling Harry Lime monologue from The Third Man, one of cinema’s most dastardly criminals. Still, while the writing on the wall greatly suggests that N is indeed one step beyond a rival into the realm of scum and villainy, the truth behind N’s real narrative purpose is revealed when Ghetsis is in the picture. Suddenly, with an older opposing force decorated in cartoonishly villainous garb like all of the primary Pokémon gang leaders before him, Ghetsis causes the player to realize that N is not the looming threat hanging over Unova. It’s revealed in the game’s climax in N’s sublime castle that Ghetsis was always pulling the strings of Team Plasma. Ghetsis has been manipulating N’s passion for the civil rights of Pokémon and thus creating a driven lieutenant to execute a revolution not based on the protection of Pokémon, but to render all of Unova’s civilians defenseless to become its ruthless, iron-fisted ruler. With Ghetsis in the spotlight as the sinister force of evil in Unova instead, it seems like N could be disposed of like a piece of tissue paper. However, I think that his relegation to a red herring in the greater narrative is more fitting and puts the rival role into better perspective. As much as our blood might boil at the spoiled cockiness of Blue or cringe at Silver’s harshness towards himself and his Pokémon, the rivals are never intended to be the prime instigators of the greater conflict surrounding a Pokémon adventure’s narrative, hence the new crop of criminal radicals per entry. Also, a worthy rival should act as a character foil that reflects a warped perspective of the player’s strongest qualities, which seem to have been lost since Red/Blue, with all of the scrubs constantly trying to catch up with the player. Everyone playing Pokémon is obviously different in personality, but the game often likes to assign the avatar they’re controlling the glowing traits of passion, compassion, integrity, courage, and every other exceptional adjective submitted to the Oxford English Dictionary. N is not only an exceptional trainer, if his fairly challenging duels are any indication, but he truly does exhibit all of the aforementioned qualities that all of the NPCs will compliment the player on to the point where it's borderline flirtatious. Given his unique history of being raised by Pokémon like Mowgli from The Jungle Book, it's easy to see why he’d express a deep ardor for ensuring the well-being of his close companions with the imbalanced relationship dynamic at play with their human partners. His fervor is corrupted by the manipulation tactics of Ghetsis, but by seeing the example of the player’s genuine (or so the game claims) mutual respect and adoration for Pokémon, it reorients his cynicism for humanity and reminds him of his true, unadulterated beliefs and aspirations. N is such an extraordinarily strong rival because of how starkly he mirrors the protagonist, with a character arc so fascinating that it usurps the standard eight gyms+Elite Four conquest arc the series has been using as a narrative crutch since day one.

This is when I bemoan it’s a shame that a Pokémon game of this caliber wasn’t released when I was of the age of owning various Pokémon merchandise and memorizing the Pokédex as if I was preparing for a test on the periodic table for chemistry class. However, I count myself as fortunate to have experienced this game as a less overzealous adult because I would not have appreciated it way back when. A game with zero returning Pokémon, and a good portion of them are goofy-looking doodads? Hopefully, someone in proximity would’ve had smelling salts to revive me after fainting at that news. While I admittedly still find fault with the uninspired designs of a handful of Unova’s native Pokémon and its lackluster starter selection, everything else regarding Pokémon’s fifth mainline iteration has swept me off my feet. I don’t know how any series veteran couldn't be absolutely floored by the polygonal presentation and how grandiose it makes the adventure feel after generations of pixelated minimalism. Besides the splendor of the game’s surface-level attributes, the simultaneous striving for both accessibility and more complex battle conditions is commendable on all fronts. Place a story of an intricate moral dilemma surrounding the series with a mystifying character at the forefront of it, and the Pokémon series seems to have matured with the audience who grew up with it, namely, myself and several others. Pokémon Black/White is a phoenix that burns all traces of tired series traditions and rises from the ashes with great ambitions galore. I wouldn't have been ready for their gumption as a child, but as an adult, I’m beaming with pride that Pokémon isn’t content with coasting on the comfort of nostalgia.

Pokemon Diamond/Pearl Review

 (Originally published to Glitchwave on 9/5/2025)

[Image from glitchwave.com]

Pokémon Diamond/Pearl

Developer: Game Freak

Publisher: Nintendo

Genre(s): JRPG

Platforms: DS

Release Date: September 28, 2006

When Pokémon released its fourth generation of games in 2007 (American release), I had all but clocked out of the franchise completely. It’s not as if I became an adult since the release of Pokémon Ruby/Sapphire and had to relinquish my childhood interests in order to acclimate myself to the unrelenting adult world. Hell, I was still in elementary school when Pokémon’s fourth generation of titles shipped overseas, undoubtedly still in the prime Pokémon demographic. However, I was undergoing an evolution in the media I consumed in my, let’s call it, “PG-13 era.” I had also newly defected from tuning into Nickelodeon and Cartoon Network whenever I turned on the television in favor of more adult animated series such as The Simpsons and such, plus a few prime time sitcoms that had been currently airing (The Office, 30 Rock) that were generally more risque than the material the two children-oriented networks were producing. Relative access to the internet at this time, in an era where it was still an unregulated frontier of cutting-edge creativity, also had a hand in pulling me away from kid-friendly content. Anyways, the reason for this anecdotal line of context behind Pokémon Diamond/Pearl is to ultimately reveal that it was the first Pokémon generation that I have no nostalgic attachment towards. This playthrough isn’t my first rodeo with the franchise's fourth iteration, as I played Pearl in college during my “Pokémon renaissance phase.” Still, experiencing anything intended for younger people as the target demographic versus experiencing it as an adult will resonate differently, which is probably why I don’t share the same sentimental attachment to this generation as some of the people around my age. In saying this, I’m glad my seasoned adult perspective detects some flagrant issues with Pokémon’s DS titles that a biased childhood experience likely would still be overlooking.

During the time of my ambivalent absence, I evidently did not miss out on Pokémon shaking up the formula in any substantial way. A Pokémon adventure still begins with a boy (or girl, since Pokémon Crystal) waking up in their comfortable little burg that coincidentally also shares the same zip code as a pokemon professor’s research facility. The scientist will continue to grant the player one of three rare pokemon to lead them on the path of Poke-glory, which includes defeating eight elite Pokemon trainers scattered across the region and then the Elite Four that are housed in a prodigious building located at the apex of a lofty mountain range. Pokemon Diamond/Pearl introduces the player to the trio of exclusives the same way that Ruby/Sapphire did, choosing one in a hectic flash when forced to defend oneself from wild pokemon that lurk in the nearby tall grasses. Truthfully, it doesn’t distract from the fact that the game is still setting up the same call for adventure that will lead on the same eight gym trajectory with a meaty gauntlet as the final step of the player’s ascension to the top.

However, one consistent alteration to this staunch narrative formula that persists here is the selection of starter pokemon, even if they still maintain the same contrasting elemental dynamic. Is it obvious to anyone else that Piplup was engineered to be the definitive fan favorite of the three? I don’t need a census taker to tell me that people absolutely love penguins more than God loves irony, so the turquoise ice bird is bound to be bought up by aspiring trainers in record time. Admittedly, I can’t deny that Piplup would be a solid decision outside of its superficial appeal. He’s a speedy little guy whose adult emperor penguin evolution form, Empoleon, persists as THE only water and steel hybrid known in the Pokedex to this day, which also comes with several resistances and an immunity to poison matching that of the Dread Pirate Roberts. I think that I share a commonality with the face-painted kid who was virally interviewed for the local news all those years ago because I have a fondness for Turtwig that almost matches my adoration for Blastoise. Even if the leafy little turtle is obviously slower than his peers, he’s a defensive powerhouse whose durability only strengthens when he fully evolves into the Ankylosauria-esque Torterra and grows a ground typing on top of the preexisting grass one (and an entire tree on its back as well). So far, the beguiling designs and commitment to dual-typing their evolutions make this selection of starter pokemon as exemplary as the previous batch. The fire-type representative that rounds out this trio doesn’t buck this trend, but the evolutionary line of Chimchar, Monferno, and Infernape marks the first time where a starter pokemon has bothered me. There is nothing fundamentally wrong with this flaming simian or his advanced forms, but I can’t help but see him as the reheated nachos of my beloved Blaziken, with its fire and fighting physical mix only one generation after his marvelous time in the spotlight. After being treated to the delicious, nuanced taste of Coca-Cola, Pepsi is not a suitable substitute in its absence. To compound on that, Chimchar is irritatingly the sole obtainable fire pokemon in the game, so Game Freak is seemingly working with the obstinate stance that the player can drink Pepsi or go to Hell. I, for one, refuse to submit to their watered-down version of a superior product they’re trying to shell out onto us.

Okay, I’ll admit that my last statement on Chimchar was incorrect. Chimchar is the only NEW fire pokemon to appear in the grand land of Sinnoh, but the only alternative is Kanto’s incandescent horse Ponyta and its majestic, evolved stallion form of Rapidash. The scant selection aside, another pattern I can detect from Diamond/Pearl’s example here is that every even-numbered Pokemon generation will add around one-hundred of the beasts instead of 150 just as Gold/Silver did in the franchise’s sophomore era. When the total of new breeds is comparatively subtracted, the game allows enough room for familiar faces to flourish once again. Besides Ponyta, long-tongued ghost Gastly, and the doofy yellow mallard Psyduck are some of the representatives from Pokemon’s original roster that return after their gap year. The beta version of Swampert in Wooper/Quagsire, plus the kick-ass stag beetle, Heracross, have also migrated here from Johto. As for Pokémon #252-#386 that were front and center in their native Hoenn, only a handful of the archipelago’s pokémon have persisted in the limelight (Wingull, Medicham, and Barboach, to name a few). While padding the region’s Pokedex with returnees would’ve appeased my younger self, the focal point of any Pokemon game’s roster should ideally be the ones currently crafted in the developer’s creative kiln.

Firstly, I appreciate that the player can find the notoriously sparse electric type pokemon in Shinx before fighting the first gym leader, and the fact that it evolves twice into Luxray makes it a viable competitor for the long run. Queen bee Vespiquen provides more proof that bug-type pokemon aren’t just low-level obstacles to contend with out of the gate, but the player can only confirm this statement for themselves if they manage to encounter the highly elusive female form of Combee in the wild–hence the gendered connotations of Vespiquen’s status. The ghost balloons of Drifloon and Drifblim amuse me on the implication that a balloon can become deceased, and the grins of the bipedal poison frogs Croagunk and Toxicroak exude a great deal of personality, even if they are of the irksome, shit-eating variety. Above all else, no other fourth-generation pokemon debutant exudes more charisma and star power than Lucario, who is so physically personable that it seems like you could have an intelligent conversation with him. Considering that he was deemed worthy of Super Smash Bros stardom, I’d confidently call him the breakout pokemon of this era. Maybe he would even temporarily eclipse Pikachu’s mascot status in a timeline where the yellow rat wasn’t guarding his throne like an electric fence around a storage facility. The line-up also isn’t rife with unevolvable defectives like the ones that ran amok throughout Johto, although the electric rodent Pachirisu sees an unfortunate trend continuing that Plusle and Minun started. I’d comment that Diamond/Pearl’s overall selection was lacking in options despite the variety on display, but then I realized that the veteran pokemon here can sufficiently cover any elemental blind spots in one’s pokemon team. Really, the biggest bone I have to pick regarding Sinnoh’s selection of beasts is that the developers used the design template of my favorite animal, the beaver, and turned it into an absolute joke with Bidoof and Bibarel–the supreme HM bitch so submissive that I’m surprised they can’t lick the player’s running shoes. A pox on both your houses! (Nintendo and Game Freak)

If anything, the biggest commonality that Diamond/Pearl share with Gold/Silver regarding their original lineups is how they augment and innovate on the already-existing pokemon of previous generations. For instance, the developers thought it keen to continue literally infantilizing popular pokemon like Warner Bros. with Looney Tunes characters. Mr. Mime continues his detestable family surname with his son, “Mime Jr.,” Happiny is Chansey’s poke-nurse in training, and Budew is a Roselia sproutling. The player can still facilitate the birth of these babies via the awkward and outwardly inappropriate act of pokemon fornication in the daycare center, but I’m sure they’ll find it more convenient and comfortable to find these prepubescents in the wild with the rest of the bunch. This way, the player can also catch multiple Bonslys and Munchlaxes and train an assortment of their once-exclusive adult forms of Sudowoodo and Snorlax. Lord knows what kind of king’s feast it’ll take to feed that army, though. Personally, I find the idea of evolving these helpless, juvenile creatures through battle experience to be unethically cruel, so I’d rather focus on the evolved forms of pokemon that are already formidable enough. Gold/Silver’s impetus for adding an evolved form to an established pokemon was to make them contenders in one’s pokemon posse rather than a slot on a catching checklist, for even the least experienced Pokemon trainer should recognize that evolution involves making a creature stronger. For instance, Murkrow was the epitome of forgettable in Gold/Silver, even among a profusion of losers, but his new evolved form in Honchkrow tacks on mass to make this skinny, pathetic crow mediocre no more. Yanmega adds some buzzing bug ferocity to Yanma, Tangela turns from an unkempt grass nymph into fucking Swamp Thing with Tangrowth, and Sneasel’s crowned superior, Weaville, is quicker than Japanese public transportation. Piloswine probably didn’t need to evolve again to survive the steep conditions of Pokémon battles, but who am I to argue against its capacity to adapt when it can now transform into the whompus woolly mammoth Mamoswine? Designating new evolutionary branches based on gender with Gallade and Froslass also provides a nifty new method of players to weigh their options when catching either a Ralts or a Snorunt. All of the ones mentioned are what I’d consider to be the standouts among this new wave of enhanced Pokemon but unfortunately, there exist plenty of unappealing examples in this category of pokemon either due to their designs or excessiveness. Unless you find jokes involving oral sex to be especially funny, Lickitung might be the one original pokemon even a staunch gen-wunner might have trouble recalling. Still, its evolved form, Lickilicky, will be memorable for all the wrong reasons, as it resembles something upsetting one would see during a drug-induced hallucination. Why does Probopass look like Nosepass had a Bar Mitzvah in between generations? We needed another “Jynx” predicament on our hands, Nintendo? Why did Magmar need a shlubby beer gut and a Mega Man arm cannon, and was it really necessary to bulk up Rhyhorn with an entire shield of stone? I would think that being a hulking rock rhinoceros was formidable enough. Every evolution here technically improves the stats of these established pokemon, but their gaudiness ultimately still makes them unwelcome.

In the case of Magnezone and the two new Eeveelutions, the rationale behind these previously undiscovered iterations is that the other regions didn’t have the particular environmental factors that would enable these physical changes. The environment in question, of course, is Diamond/Pearl’s central region of Sinnoh. Geographically, the fourth Pokenation is the antithesis of Hoenn in a more literal sense than just its design, climate, and general atmosphere. Whereas Hoenn was inspired by Japan's southern chain of islands, Sinnoh is the entirety of the country’s northernmost prominent island, Hokkaido. Geography experts/weeaboos can even see that the developers practically slapped Hokkaido onto the game’s world map and infested it with pokemon. Given that this island is situated slightly further away from the equator, one can expect Sinnoh to exhibit the characteristics of a temperate climate rather than a subtropical one. Rain and fog are common weather conditions that may factor into battle as opposed to the rampant blustering of desert sand. Oreburgh is a humble mining town with much of its territory sunken below the ground due to the constant excavation of coal and other nearby natural resources. Floroma Town is a city that shares Hoenn’s forte for flowers, but the atmosphere here conveys a reserved, remote environment where the player can listen to the wind blowing on the wide span of pretty plants without some well-meaning florist rambling on about the environmental and personal benefits of growing them. The most notable attraction in Canalave City is its multistoried library, and Celestic Town preserves the traditional, unsophisticated lifestyles and attitudes of centuries ago, like several of Johto’s settlements. The vibrancy of modern times seen in Sinnoh seems to be condensed to Hearthome and Jubilife City. Either of these districts has to be based on Hokkaido’s central city of Sapporo, but I can’t tell which one on account of neither having a brewery or beer garden. In terms of comparing the nation’s weather conditions to that of the last region, nothing is more evident of how different Sinnoh is than the frigid Snowpoint City, where it perennially precipitates the city’s namesake. The sentient evergreen tree Snover and his yeti-sized evolved form Abomasnow could never have sensibly existed in a region like Hoenn, where the apex of elevation resembles the area of northern California where the redwoods reside. In addition to the potential for perpetual snow, Sinnoh’s notable natural bodies are three massive lakes located all across the land, which might remind every North American resident of the Great Lakes that surround the boreal upper midwest of the USA and parts of Canada. Certainly, Hoenn shares little to no commonality with our white neighbor to the north. Like Johto’s relationship to Kanto, Sinnoh sort of presents a direct contrast to Hoenn that illustrates its polar differences in all of the aforementioned essences. While I prefer the laid-back, oceanic atmosphere permeating throughout Hoenn as I do with places of a real-life parallel, I appreciate the modest, chillier expanse that Sinnoh establishes to accentuate its distinctiveness.

I suppose that the advancements of the DS hardware also play a hand in Sinnoh’s perceptible differences compared to the previous generations. An understated aspect of the double-screened handheld is that it could competently render three-dimensional shapes in the graphics, albeit rudimentary ones that recall when Mario and Link looked like satirical action figures made by Seth Green for Adult Swim. With the approximate 64-bit visuals at hand, the foregrounds of each metropolitan area are rather cubical, further immersing us into the illusion of interacting in a bustling cityscape. Evidently, the extra-dimensional range at their disposal is also being utilized in the interior puzzle of gyms that prevent the player from darting to the leader’s domain. We can determine the change in water level while trying to navigate around Crasher Wake’s Olympic-sized pool, and it might have been difficult to obscure the junior trainers playing hide and seek in Gardenia’s grass gym from a pixelated, top-down perspective. Solving the math problems that lock the doors behind the fabulous Fantina’s domain could’ve been achievable without the perks of an advanced spatial plane, but probably not the series of elevators between them. One would think that injecting this graphical flair into the Pokemon world would be a cinch, considering the capabilities of the system, but something about the game’s sluggishness suggests that rounding out the visuals may have still been too ambitious. For some reason or other, Diamond/Pearl runs as slowly as a sloth sinking in a tar pit during any battle sequence. Every action is plagued with a hesitation reminiscent of children stuttering their lines during a school play. In a game where the turn-based gameplay can become rather repetitive, chugging through the grind with jagged pauses at every waking moment can make the process grating. This kink in Diamond/Pearl’s foundation is the first instance of blatant regression in the Pokemon series, and there’s no excuse for it.

Judging by how Sinnoh shares a similar atmosphere and disposition to Johto, this would lead the player to believe that its general progression is equally as lethargic and somewhat adrift. Fortunately, there is a prominent overarching subplot in tandem with the player’s path to fame and fortune, but it’s quite absurd. Filling in the requisite organization of rabblerousers is Team Galactic, whose group uniformity is defined by their eccentric hairstyles. Another point of eccentricity regarding this antagonistic team is their highfalutin mission. Instead of using pokemon as tools in conducting schemes for financial gain and influencing one’s opinion on the land and sea divide, Team Galactic wishes to change the world…by channeling the cosmic power of the region’s legendary pokemon to erase the current one and craft a new existence as the primary architects. Something about team leader Cyrus’s intense and misanthropic disposition tells me that his goals are not based in philanthropy. Between the seventh and eighth Sinnoh gyms, the player will climb the perilous Mt. Coronet and arrive at the mythical ruins of Spear Pillar. At its peak, Team Galactic’s rude awakening will summon the sacred Pokemon arbiters of space and time in either Dialga or Palkia–depending on the version. This encounter is certainly a memorable moment in the player’s journey through Sinnoh for its epic scale and biting tension, as it seems like Team Galactic will have their nefarious wish fulfilled. Still, the underlying issue that sullies Team Galactic’s impact is that their villainous operations are barely relevant to the greater Pokemon world in the grand scheme of the franchise’s thematic foundation. Team Rocket tainted our perception of treating these creatures as reciprocal friends or pets when they utilize their offensive properties like gangsters use sawed-offs and Tommy guns. At least the player can assume that the radical desires of either Team Aqua or Magma stem from their affinities for the category of pokemon that their elemental association coincides with. Team Galactic, on the other hand, seem like they’ve stumbled upon the Pokemon world and have researched an avenue to achieve their disquieting goals in the environment they circumstantially find themselves in. I’ve seen the villain trope of a radical cult several times across many video games, and injecting Pokémon into the equation doesn’t seem to broaden the scope in any significant way. As far as the series’s less diabolical adversaries are concerned, the opposite gender equivalent of the player is a non-entity who follows around Professor Rowan like a border collie, and spastic neighbor Barry is in the feckless category of “rival” that Wally unremarkably introduced. Barry’s aspiration to conquer the player and place himself as the hottest contender in the Sinnoh league is still as fruitless and one-sided, even with a longer screen presence. Maybe he’d be a formidable Pokémon trainer if he invested in decaf and could focus?

Because all of the auxiliary narrative components that comprise a Pokémon adventure are rather ineffective this time around, the developers thought ahead of this predicament by raising the difficulty ceiling for the Elite Four and the league champion. If that douche Lance has taught me anything (besides that Dragonite is like the Ford F-450 of Pokémon), a particularly flashy and haughty champion will feel inclined to assist the player in trouncing the game’s criminal organization threat. When the blonde, elegant trainer Cynthia suddenly lent a hand in forcing Team Galactic out of Sinnoh’s great lakes, I knew she’d be my final opponent and wouldn’t relinquish her crown so easily. The range of pokemon levels amongst Sinnoh’s Elite Four is a steep 53 at the lowest and a staggering 63 at their highest, with some of Cynthia’s pokemon reaching social security eligibility numbers. Cynthia’s eclectic mix, consisting of her bulky, self-healing Milotic and exclusively invulnerable Spiritomb, still gave me the business. A sense of fear should especially strike the players when faced against Cynthia’s Garchomp trump card. The mighty upright sand hammerhead shark with dragon blood in its veins is so goddamn powerful that I hear Lance is thinking about trading one of his Dragonites for one, like an insecure "alpha male" influencer swapping his Bugatti for a Ferrari. We get it, Cynthia, women are just as capable of topping the league towers as their Y-chromosomed equivalents, but did you have to make your strides for womankind our problem? The grinding regime I had to undergo to defeat you spanned the length of a flight to Europe, and the slowing hiccups in the game’s system made the process all the more tedious and excruciating.

Pokemania has officially bitten the dust, and now the franchise is in a state where the developers have to keep huffing and puffing to keep the flame from being totally extinguished. With Pokémon’s fourth-generation outing in Diamond/Pearl, their attempt to maintain relevance is rather limp. Sinnoh is an inspired region only because it acts as Hoenn’s clear-cut opposite, and there are still plenty of commendable extensions to the international Pokedex that should still rouse a sense of curiosity in returning players amongst those whose brassy designs smack of overcompensation. Other than that, the narrative does not bode well when the fatigued Pokémon champion arc takes a backseat to deal with an enemy syndicate whose principles put them one degree from Dahlia Gillespie from Silent fucking Hill. Above all else, the delayed clunkiness of the gameplay is the straw that broke the camel’s back, or at least the straw that caused some serious burning inflammation. I feel as if I just played a middle-aged Pokémon game, one that attempts to capture its prime by repeating the same feats but is ultimately now bogged down by the hitches that come with the passing of time. Adding on to this analogy, I also feel like the game’s teenage son, who is a bit embarrassed by its lameness. I might be too old for this shit afterall.

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.