A FEW MONTHS BACK, I wrote a few thoughts about the unexpected U.S. success of Nintento’s Pokemon franchise (involving video games, role-playing card games, a TV cartoon, and assorted ancillary merchandise; all set in an alternate-universe world where the non-human animal population consists of some 150 varieties of cute and super-powered “pocket monsters”).
Today, some additional thoughts.
Its complexity turns on kids and befuddles grownups. This is true of the games, and even more true of the TV show (which was conceived to somehow tie in entertaining cartoon plots with the characters and story elements originally devised for the far-different narrative rules of gaming). The first episode starts out with the assumption that viewers already know the basic premise of these creatures and the young humans who befriend and use them. Pieces of the metastory are doled out in each episode, along with at least one new Pokemon critter and hints about which of them can outbattle which other ones and how.
(In the English-language version of the show, the complexities and oddities are even wackier. The show’s three young human heroes, for instance, are forever talking about their tastes for such all-American teen foods as pizza and donuts, but are only shown eating rice and sushi.)
It’s got something for everyone. Younger fans can get into the cuter critters and the video game (whose plot involves capturing a personal menagerie of wild Pokemon). (By the way, “Pokemon” and all the species names are both singular and plural; just one of the complexities kids can get but grownups can’t.) Teens can get into the more strategic aspects of the card game (which centers around mock quasi-cockfights between opposing players’ trained super-critters). Older teens and young adults can get caught up even further in the games’ minutiae (sort of like Dungeons and Dragons but with a more attractive cast of characters), or proceed from the TV series to explore the whole maddenning multiverse of Japanese Anime.
The games reward strategy, not brute strength. A cute little creature like Pikachu or Psyduck, if equipped with the right powers and skill-levels, can outfight a huge brute like Onix or Charmeleon. On the TV show, the human villains of Team Rocket always scheme to steal “rare and valuable Pokemon,” and always fail because bullying never wins in the Poke-world. The schoolkids who try to bully other kids out of particularly useful Pokemon game cards, causing some schools to ban the cards on school property, are therefore only learning how to lose.
It teaches values. Most all kiddie TV these days makes a semblance of “educational” content, even if it’s just the hero coming on in the end telling the kids to drink their milk. Pokemon’s life lessons, however, are deeply incorporated into every plotline. The Pokemon battles themselves are imbued with a Sumo-like sense of tradition and honor. Many of the stories involve the humans learning about properly caring for one another, their environment, and their Pokemon. And the show’s chief plot element, preteen Ash Ketchum’s personal quest to “become the world’s greatest Pokemon master,” might parallel Japan’s current national soul-search to discover a sense of individual initiative after generations of training its youngsters for lives of self-sacrifice.
(Of course, the values the show teaches might not be the values some real-world humans would want to have taught. Animal-rights folks, f’rinstance, might object to a key element of the games and the show, of young humans learning to capture and train wild animals for show, for sport, and especially for fighting.)
(As you might expect, Poke-parodies are already being thought up. Here’s a particularly good one.)
Tomorrow: Speaking of Nintendo properties, management at the Nintendo-owned Mariners is acting like Team Rocket in attempting to extort ever more tax $$.
