Anime Time: Episodes 37 and 41

Ditto’s Mysterious Mansion – Wake Up, Snorlax

Ash’s location: Czech Republic, or thereabouts.

For today’s show… two weird-ass episodes about two weird-ass trainers and their two weird-ass Pokémon!

 Ditto shapeshifting into Pikachu to prepare for battle, by Travis Orams (http://trezhurisland.deviantart.com/).

In Ditto’s Mysterious Mansion, Ash, Misty and Brock take shelter from a sudden, violent rainstorm inside a worn-out, creaking old mansion, which appears deserted until they see a teal-haired boy wearing clothes exactly like Ash’s standing in the shadows.  “Yeah, except it’s a girl,” Brock notes.  How does he know?  “Men’s intuition.”  Indeed, the ‘boy’ is a young girl named Duplica, who has an incredible gift for imitation, and lives in the mansion with her Pokémon partner, a Ditto.  Ash is disdainful when Duplica explains that Ditto’s only power is Transform; he doesn’t see the point in a Pokémon that can only ever be a cheap imitation of something else.  Duplica shows him his mistake by challenging him to a battle and having her Ditto block Bulbasaur’s Razor Leaf with Vine Whip, then use its vines to restrain Bulbasaur.  Ash surrenders and sulks for a little while, until Brock points something out to him: Ditto may have been imitating Bulbasaur, but Duplica wasn’t simply imitating Ash; she used another of Bulbasaur’s powers to counter what the real one was trying to do.  In order to battle like that with Ditto, Duplica must have encyclopaedic knowledge of all Pokémon species and their capabilities.  She isn’t really the battling type, though; Duplica wants to be a performer.  When travellers stop at the mansion, Duplica entertains them with her Pokémon cosplay and Ditto’s transformations.  Unfortunately, Duplica’s Ditto can’t mimic faces, which has wrecked their act on more than one occasion.  As she is telling Ash her woes, Team Rocket make their obligatory appearance and nab Ditto.  They want it to Transform into a mythical Dratini so they can present it to Giovanni, but Ditto, presented with a picture of Dratini in a book, can only Transform into the book.  They also quickly learn of Ditto’s inability to mimic faces, but eventually succeed, using threats of physical violence, in getting it to Transform into a perfect copy of Meowth.  When the kids arrive – wearing Team Rocket costumes from Duplica’s stash and reciting the Team Rocket motto, just for the hell of it – Duplica is overjoyed and even thanks them for helping Ditto learn to Transform properly.  Jessie and James try to give Meowth to Duplica and fly off with Ditto in their balloon… but she isn’t fooled for one second, and lobs him at the balloon, causing Jessie and James to drop the real Ditto.  Furious, they deploy a cannon from the balloon’s basket, but Duplica has Ditto Transform into the cannon and blast Pikachu at them, with predictable results.  Duplica goes back to her mansion to re-open for business, the kids get on with whatever it is they claim to be doing, and Jessie and James attempt to stuff Meowth into a Dratini costume…

 This is the kind of thing you want to see when you stop for a rest at the side of the road, right?  Screenshots from filb.de/anime.

Let’s talk about Ditto.  Ditto is one of those Pokémon who’s gotten something of a raw deal in the games, because Ditto in the games really is just a cheap imitation of whatever it Transforms into.  It’ll probably have less HP, it can match but not exceed its opponents in all other respects (including, most importantly, speed), and it’s overwhelmingly likely to be at a one-turn disadvantage because of the time it takes to Transform.  Contrast the way Ditto’s Mysterious Mansion portrays this weird-ass little Pokémon.  The way Brock and Duplica describe how Ditto battles seems to imply that Ditto can imitate any technique a Pokémon is physically capable of, even if the opponent doesn’t actually know it – if they had been fighting outside in fine weather, for instance, Duplica might have had Ditto hammer Ash’s Bulbasaur with a Solarbeam.  What’s more, Ditto’s ability to imitate inanimate objects is something entirely unique to the anime (and with good reason; it’d be merry hell to add something like that to the games).  Whatever it’s imitating, though, it seems clear that – as in the games – Ditto can only Transform into what’s actually in front of it.  A picture of a Dratini won’t cut it; Ditto can only manage a copy of the picture.  However, when Jessie shows Ditto a photo of her old school crush and asks it to show her what he’d look like aged up a few years, Ditto is able to accommodate her; it can still only Transform into a photo, and it fails, as usual, to imitate his face, but it does manage to age the boy in the image as Jessie asks.  Clearly, then, Ditto can take some licence with its transformations (for instance, it could probably Transform, if it chose, into a ‘shiny’ version of a Pokémon standing in front of it, or make other superficial changes); it just can’t create a whole three-dimensional form from scratch, or from memory.  The other fascinating thing Ditto is able to imitate is Meowth’s ability to speak, which is an extremely unusual skill that Meowth learned only with incredible effort.  When Jessie and James present Duplica with two identical Meowth, Ditto mimics everything Meowth says, though it doesn’t appear to be able to add anything (suggesting that it’s just parroting the sounds without understanding them, but even that is beyond the abilities of most Meowth).  Clearly, then, Ditto has some degree of access even to complex learned abilities, but may not be able to use them effectively without some sort of instruction.  Some questions to ponder, then: would Ditto be able to speak if it Transformed into a different Meowth?  What if Team Rocket’s Meowth had been there with them to show it how?  In short, does Transforming actually allow Ditto to take knowledge from the template Pokémon’s mind?  More importantly, why isn’t this the kind of thing Professor Oak and his ilk are researching?

So much for Ditto… now for a distinctly more vexing Pokémon.

 Snorlax reaching up to grab a Leppa Berry, by theMerce (http://themerce.deviantart.com/).

After a brief run-in with an old hobo, who plays them a song on his Poké-Flute before demanding food (which they do not have) as payment, Ash, Misty and Brock wander into a town, delirious with hunger, and find that no-one there has any food either.  Luckily for them, they run into the mayor, who is generous enough to give them a meal from his family’s private stores.  The mayor explains that the river that flows through the town has dried up for some reason, ruining their farmland and causing massive food shortages.  “No-one dares go upstream anymore.  There’s no telling what you might find.”  Luckily, Ash and his friends are random wandering Pokémon trainers – the best people for any dangerous and loosely-specified task!  They follow the dry riverbed for some time, hacking through the oppressive tangles of thorny vines in their path, and find what seems to be the problem… a Snorlax blocking the river (where… is all the water going, exactly?).  Ash tries to capture Snorlax, but his Pokéball just bounces off.  As the kids puzzle over his monstrous bulk, Team Rocket arrive in their balloon and declare that they have come to take Snorlax.  Ash is reluctant to let them steal the massive Pokémon, but- wait, steal?  Isn’t it a wild Snorlax?  Surely it’s fair game?  Clearly, as far as Ash is concerned, there is a definite ethical distinction between battling a wild Pokémon to capture it in a Pokéball and simply carting it off in its sleep, as Jessie and James mean to.  Regardless, Ash has to admit that getting rid of Snorlax is more important.  The balloon can’t lift his fat ass, though, and nothing they try can wake him up.  When he shifts his weight, though, they find a “Do Not Disturb” sign underneath him, with the instruction “in case of emergency, please use a Poké-Flute to wake.”  The kids remember the hobo, rush back to find him… for some reason, get into a battle with Team Rocket for control of the hobo, which of course they win… and lead him to the Snorlax.  The hobo claims that the Snorlax is his, and that he wakes it with his flute once a month.  He does so now, but it turns out that Snorlax was never the problem… the stream is being blocked by another dense thicket of vines.  As the kids scratch their heads, Snorlax takes matters into his own hands and devours the entire thicket, releasing the river and restoring the town’s lifeblood, before going back to sleep.  Finally, the hobo’s Snorlax-shaped pager beeps and flashes “No. 7,” to tell him that he has to go and wake up another Snorlax.

Wait, what?

Okay, guys, I know you probably meant that as a throwaway joke, but… you do realise you just implied that this hobo is responsible for travelling around Kanto regulating the sleep cycles of at least seven different Snorlax?

Because that is AWESOME!

 Snorlax saves the day.

Seriously, though, let’s put a little thought into this.  Snorlax is an interesting Pokémon, from an ecological perspective… by which I mean, the damn thing eats everything.  Luckily they also sleep for months at a time, giving the ecosystem time to recover from their onslaughts.  However, in an episode from the Orange League series, Snack Attack, we see how absurdly destructive a single Snorlax can be when it gets peckish in the wrong place at the wrong time; these things can devour forests in a matter of days.  The flip side of this, though, is how Snorlax fit into ecosystems that are used to their presence.  Snorlax presumably don’t often move very far.  One imagines that the one Ash encounters in Wake Up, Snorlax has been living in the area for quite some time.  Its presence is probably what has been keeping the thorn weed under control and stopping the river from turning into an overgrown swamp long before now.  The removal of such a major consumer from an ecosystem could only be disastrous; if Ash actually had captured the Snorlax, and then found a way to clear the vines himself, chances are they would have grown back within months, choking the river once again.  There are probably many grassland and meadow environments in Kanto that can exist in their present state only because of Snorlax living in the area and regularly trimming back more aggressive types of flora.  Think about that for a moment the next time you’re playing Fire Red or Leaf Green and decide to catch that wild Snorlax.  The hobo’s role in all this is a little harder to guess at, unless you’re prepared to accept that Snorlax will actually sleep indefinitely unless disturbed.  It might be that their natural sleep cycle is easily disturbed by human activity, or that they’ve been moved from their original territory (maybe to make room for a city, or maybe as a deliberate attempt to alter the environment) and need to eat more or less often than usual because of the different vegetation.  In spite of their size and power, I could actually see Snorlax being tremendously vulnerable to environmental disturbances because of their massive energy requirements, and perhaps being a very high-maintenance species to protect, like the giant pandas they vaguely resemble.

What I like about the anime is that it often gives more detailed portraits of particular species of Pokémon than the games are capable of providing in their current state.  I think there’s actually plenty of room for the games to do this as well, but that’s neither here nor there.  Ditto and Snorlax are both very interesting Pokémon to think about – Ditto because of the unanswered questions about the extent of its powers, Snorlax because of his unusual lifestyle and needs – and, in keeping with the spirit of learning and discovery that’s been part of the point of Pokémon from the beginning, such portraits are a tremendously important part of the franchise as a whole.  Or… that’s what I think, anyway.

Anime Time: Episodes 36, 48, and 53

The Bridge Bike Gang – Holy Matrimony – The Purr-fect Hero

Ash’s location: San Francisco.  I assume.

We’re more than thirty episodes into this series and I haven’t had an entry about the villains yet.  Clearly this will not do.  Jessie, James and Meowth of Team Rocket are quite possibly the least threatening villains ever.  They certainly manage to cause the heroes harm from time to time, but they never accomplish anything.  I don’t think a single one of their plots ever bears fruit.  Luckily, the show’s writers understood that, gods bless them, and wrote Team Rocket as comic relief characters.  We often see them in brief asides, discussing how desperately they need to get something right, and they frequently break the fourth wall for comedic effect.  Anyhow, that’s enough of their general portrayal – these episodes all reveal things about the specifics of their characters, so let’s take a look.

 Admit it: you wish you could be half this badass.  And/or ridiculous.  Screenshots from filb.de/anime.

In The Bridge Bike Gang, Ash, Misty and Brock come across an epic bridge leading across an inlet to a place called Sunnytown, but sadly the bridge is not complete and they can’t walk across… only the cycle track is finished.  Because bicycles are by far the most valuable objects in the entire Pokémon universe, they can’t just go out and buy one, let alone three… but, luckily, Nurse Joy #148 needs someone to deliver some medicine to Sunnytown, and is willing to let her couriers borrow some bicycles.  The kids immediately agree and race off down the cycle track.  On the bridge, they are accosted by a gang of miscreant cyclists, who demand a Pokémon battle.  During the fight, Team Rocket arrive in their usual dramatic style to mix things up… and it turns out that the gang leader, Tyra, recognises them.  Apparently Jessie and James were once members of this very bicycle gang, after flunking out of Pokémon Tech, and were known as “Big Jess,” who would always swing a chain around her head as she rode, and “Little Jim,” the only member of the gang who still used training wheels.  They were, and are, regarded as the absolute height of badass.  For some reason.  Anyway, the gang members think they’re even more awesome now that they’re hardened criminals, so they’re more than happy to help Jess and Jim fight Ash and his friends… until Officer Jenny #270 arrives and scatters them.  The kids keep riding, even as a terrible storm gathers.  Meanwhile, Tyra encourages Jessie and James to ride out themselves, to renew their… er… legend… and show the gang what real riding is.  They do so on unicycles, because this will earn them unimaginable street cred.  Team Rocket and the kids, coming from opposite sides, both reach a drawbridge being raised to allow a ship to pass beneath.  Ash, being Ash, decides to jump it, in the middle of a violent storm, at the same moment as Team Rocket.  The kids… somehow bounce off their heads and narrowly make the jump, while Jessie and James plummet into the water below.

To be honest, all things considered I thought this was kind of a ‘meh’ episode, but it does have certain bright points; notably, we get a little bit of insight into what motivates Jessie and James in their life of crime.  They crave respect, anything to let themselves forget what failures they normally are, and will do blatantly insane things to cultivate the worship of Tyra and the others.  More importantly their dialogue in this episode suggests that they, like the bike gang, resent rules and value freedom above all else.  Jessie and Meowth can be genuinely spiteful at times, but Jessie at least often seems to be driven at least as much by a burning desire to flip off ‘the system,’ probably on account of her childhood spent in poverty.  Ironically she’s now part of a system anyway, being ‘evil’ apparently for no better reason than because it’s her job, making her something of a ‘punch-clock villain’ (James plays up this aspect a great deal more than she does, but Jessie has her moments too; when things are going particularly badly for them they seem like nothing so much as downtrodden nine-til-five office workers).  She claims to enjoy being villainous, but like James it takes precious little to distract her, and she takes to honest work surprisingly quickly in the episodes where she’s given the opportunity.  Left to her own devices, she would probably remain self-centred, arrogant and superficial, but not outright evil.  James, of course, has baggage of his own… and that’s what Holy Matrimony is all about.

 Okay... I think I actually know what this whole 'invisible costume' thing is about.  In Kabuki theatre, stagehands wear all black clothing.  The audience, by convention, ignores anyone wearing this kind of costume.  Incidentally, assassin characters in Kabuki plays would wear the same costume, so that the audience would think they were just stagehands until they struck, which is where the familiar image of the black-clad ninja comes from.  Isn't learning FUN!?

I love Holy Matrimony, because from the perspective of Ash, Brock and Misty the whole episode is one great big long “WTF?”  It all begins when they stop to look at a “missing person” sign by the road, and an elderly gentleman in a suit pulls up in a limousine to ask whether they recognise the boy in the picture (I presume he has been monitoring the sign in case anyone showed an interest in it).  The picture is years old, but it’s unmistakably James, so the butler piles them into the limo and drives them to an enormous mansion, which, according to the butler, is just the doghouse.  He leads them into the even more opulent actual mansion and explains that the master and his wife have just passed away, and that if their son, James, does not marry his betrothed within twenty-four hours, he will lose his inheritance.  Team Rocket, as usual, have been watching.  James is reluctant to get married, but Jessie and Meowth like the sound of this “fortune” business, so they dress up in ‘invisible costumes’ – flimsy black gauzy things – so they can manoeuvre James like a puppet.  These… seem to work on the butler, and they drag James inside, where his insane parents promptly spring from their coffins, very much alive, and reveal his fiancée, Jessiebelle – a terrifying Southern Belle version of Jessie, from whom James had fled as a youngster.

The psychological implications are nothing short of mind-boggling.

Jessiebelle brings James downstairs into what she claims is the family’s vault, but is actually some kind of exercise dungeon in which she plans to whip James into shape.  James’ parents reveal that they could see Jessie and Meowth the whole time, so they drop smoke bombs and flee while Jessiebelle calls out her Vileplume and drowns James and the kids in Stun Spore.  At this point, James’ childhood Pokémon, Growly the Growlithe, manages to break out of the ‘doghouse’ and charges in to save him.  The group retreats to the doghouse, where James explains everything to Ash, and when Jessiebelle and Vileplume arrive, Pikachu and Growly attack them together and chase them off.  James rejoins Jessie and Meowth, leaving Growly behind to take care of his parents, and Ash, Brock and Misty leave the mansion with Jessiebelle hot on their tail, begging them for help in finding James.

James and Growly being ludicrously adorable, by Bandotaku (http://bandotaku.deviantart.com/).

When James fills Ash in on his backstory, we learn that his parents arranged his engagement to Jessiebelle because they wanted her to teach him how to behave like a proper aristocrat, something he had absolutely no interest in doing.  He ran away from home rather than marry her, and eventually fell in with Team Rocket.  James likes wealth and luxury well enough but, as his final scene with Jessie makes clear, he’d rather be free than rich any day – presumably he hopes to get money and power as a member of Team Rocket, but even once Jessiebelle has been scared off, he’d rather stay a criminal than go home, where he could have those things, just for the asking.  It seems likely that he joined Team Rocket as a gesture of rebellion against the order of society as much as anything else.  As the same time, though, he does care for his parents in a somewhat neurotic way; although he professes to hate them and their upper-crust lifestyle, he would rather leave Growly at home to protect them than bring his loyal friend along on his journey.  What’s really interesting about Holy Matrimony, I think, is that it seems to take a broadly positive view of James and his life choices.  We’re almost certainly supposed to sympathise with him in his arranged marriage to Jessiebelle, whom he doesn’t love and can’t even tolerate, his relationship with Growly presents him as a genuinely decent trainer, and the final scene between him and Jessie on their hot air balloon even seems to suggest that the life they live really is the choice that makes the most sense for them.  As in The Bridge Bike Gang, they affirm that their freedom is more important to them than anything, and the episode seems to be okay with that.

Finally for today… in The Purr-fect Hero, Ash, Misty and Brock stumble into a primary school that’s been expecting some Pokémon trainers to visit, but the other trainers have cancelled at the last minute.  Brock immediately volunteers the group to replace them because he thinks the teacher is hot, and they let all their Pokémon out to play with the children.  Most of them have fun but one, Timmy, seems disappointed because the only Pokémon he wants to meet is a Meowth – the Pokémon that once saved him from a wild Beedrill.  Appearing just when we needed them, Team Rocket show up with their latest plan to steal Pikachu: present a Pokémon Magic Show and make him disappear, replacing him with Meowth and then escaping before Ash realises that they’re not really performers.  This they do, but unfortunately Timmy is so excited to run up and meet a Meowth that, in the confusion created by Weezing’s Smokescreen, he gets caught up in Team Rocket’s magic box and Pikachu is left behind.  When Jessie and James take him out and realise their mistake, Timmy is convinced that their Meowth is the same wild one who saved him long ago.  Jessie and James convince Meowth to play along, because “we’re not in the business of destroying children’s dreams!  Well, not yet…”  Meowth ‘saves’ Timmy and returns with him to the school, where Timmy’s classmates crowd around him excitedly, but the adoration goes to his head and a “that’s right!” slips past his lips.  Misty hears him and becomes suspicious, and Meowth flees back to Jessie and James.  Timmy follows, so Ash has to go as well… right into an ambush in a dead-ended rocky valley.  The ensuing battle starts a rockslide, which forces Team Rocket to retreat and nearly flattens Ash and Timmy, but at the last moment a wild Meowth appears and Mega Kicks a boulder in two, saving them.  Everyone returns to the school safe, and Timmy declares his intention to become a trainer one day, with Meowth as his partner.  Team Rocket’s Meowth tells Jessie and James that being a ‘hero’ was nice, but they need him more, so it’s for the best.

 Best.  Meowth.  Ever.

Meowth, distressingly enough, is the brains of the operation.  He’s normally extremely cynical, and quite honestly is probably more evil than either of his human compatriots.  Meowth gets a whole episode devoted to his backstory, Go West Young Meowth, much later in the series, and that will probably get an entry all to itself, so I’ll try to keep this short. The Purr-fect Hero brings out one of Meowth’s most important character traits: his desire for attention, affection, and adoration.  Meowth is incredibly prideful but also rather insecure; whenever he speaks directly to the Boss (whom he seems to regard as being formally his trainer), he is reminded, painfully, that he has fallen out of favour with Giovanni and been replaced by a Persian.  It’s hardly surprising, then, that he finds the prospect of being treated as a hero – deservedly or not – rather attractive.  After returning to Jessie and James, though, he seems somewhat exhausted and glad to have gotten away from it all, and his comment at the episode seems to suggest that he’s happiest being with people who actually need him, rather than the kids, who have only been tricked into viewing him as a hero.  Although traditionally ‘noble’ ideas like honesty and charity tend to make Meowth gag, his pride demands, in the end, that he earn the admiration he feels he deserves – besides which, he does seem to care for Jessie and James as well, though he rarely admits it and would generally prefer them to think he looks down on them.

Honestly, I’m beginning to wonder whether calling Team Rocket ‘villains’ is entirely warranted.  They’re antagonists, certainly, but their villainous actions typically serve as ‘spanners in the works’ rather than anything critical to the story, and although they appear in every episode, I imagine most of the plots could be reconstructed without them fairly easily.  Moreover, when an episode does focus on them, Jessie, James and even Meowth are normally portrayed in a fairly positive light, all things considered.  To cut a long story short (or at least, as short as I am apparently capable of making these things) I think the most natural designation for Team Rocket is ‘anti-villains’ – they have a villainous streak, but are in many respects genuinely sympathetic, and would probably live a much easier life if they just gave up and started backing the other team.

Anime Time: Episodes 33-34

The Flame Pokémonathon – The Kangaskhan Kid

Ash’s location: The wilderness sometimes euphemistically referred to as “Fuchsia City.”

These two episodes aren’t really all that interesting, and the second is one of those ones that pops up now and again to make me wonder what the writers were smoking, but they’re chronologically the first ones after the Ninja Poké-Showdown so I suppose I’d better get them out of the way… here we go.

 Lara Laramie and her Ponyta.  Screenshots from filb.de/anime.

So, anyway, the set-up of The Flame Pokémonathon is that Ash, shortly after winning his Soul Badge, is caught by a girl named Lara Laramie trying to capture a Tauros on land he thinks is the Safari Zone but is actually a Pokémon ranch owned by Lara’s family.  Though she’s initially annoyed, once the mistake is cleared up Lara is happy to show Ash and friends around the enormous ranch and even invites them to stay for a Pokémon race the next day, a fantastic competition with honorary membership in the Laramie clan as the prize.  According to Brock, the Laramie dynasty is world-famous, and all breeders know and respect their name and the quality of their Pokémon, so this is no small thing.  Lara will be riding her Ponyta in the race to uphold her family’s honour, and one of her toughest opponents will be another breeder who works on the ranch, an obnoxious fellow named Dario who works with Dodrio.  Unfortunately, Team Rocket also have a horse in this race – figuratively speaking.  Jessie and James want a way in with the Laramie clan, so they’ve made a deal with Dario to help him win the race in exchange for the influence he will soon gain.  That night, Meowth spooks the Tauros herd, then snipes Lara’s Ponyta from afar with a slingshot when she comes to calm them down, making Ponyta throw Lara off and break her arm.  Lara asks Ash to ride in her place the next day, gambling on Ash being able to win Ponyta’s trust with his experience as a trainer so she won’t burn him.  Ash duly enters the race, along with – just for the hell of it – Misty and Starmie, Brock and Onix… and Pikachu and Squirtle, who plod steadily along in last place, Pikachu practically having to push Squirtle up the hills in the course.  Team Rocket follow, sabotaging other racers with slingshots and pit traps, and Onix glumly surrenders when the course crosses a river.  Jessie and James have to attack directly at one point to delay Ash and Misty, when Dodrio’s heads start squabbling over food at a pit stop, and Misty, Squirtle and Pikachu stay behind to deal with them as Ash and Ponyta try to catch up with Dario.  For all Ponyta’s speed, she can’t quite keep up with Dodrio… at least, not in her current form.  Ponyta eventually decides that enough is enough, evolves into Rapidash, and streaks ahead to beat Dodrio by a nose.  The race is won, Ash becomes an honorary Laramie, and there is much rejoicing.

 The contestants assemble.

The next episode, the Kangaskhan Kid, is one of those episodes that really make you wonder who writes this stuff.  The initial set-up is a bit lazy in that it recycles what happened in the last episode: once again, Ash sees a rare Pokémon (a Chansey) in what he thinks is the Safari Zone, but it turns out to be Officer Jenny #74 wearing a ridiculous hat and she arrests him for poaching.  Again, Ash is immediately forgiven, and Jenny deputises the kids when an alert sounds to warn her of actual poachers (Team Rocket, of course) attacking a herd of Kangaskhan.  When they arrive in Jenny’s jeep, they narrowly avoid the stampeding herd, which Jessie and James soon trap beneath a net.  Luckily, the Kangaskhan have a far more competent protector than Jenny on hand, in the form of an eight-year-old boomerang-wielding wild child dressed in animal skins, who frees the Kangaskhan and sics them on Team Rocket before swinging back into the jungle yelling “kanga-kangas-KHAN!” at the top of his lungs.  While the kids are trying to figure out what on earth has just happened, a helicopter lands nearby a young woman and her ugly midget husband disembark.  The pair are searching for their son Tommy, whom the moron of a husband dropped out of the helicopter as a toddler.  It has apparently taken them several years to remember where they dropped him and come looking.  Jenny takes one look their photo of Tommy and says “Oh!  You must mean Tomo!  His address is listed right here in the Safari Zone directory!  Yeah, he’s totally in my carpool!”

 We all get together at his place for poker on Wednesday nights.  I'm sorry, how is this weird?

…okay, the carpool part was a lie but she actually says the rest of it.

Anyway, they build a makeshift litter for Tommy’s parents, who are far too rich to be expected to walk, and go off into the jungle to find him.  When the kids find an injured baby Kangaskhan and try to help it out, its cries draw Tomo/Tommy, who attacks them and demands to know whether they are people or Pokémon.  The kids try to explain who his parents are, and he temporarily goes mad trying to decide whether his mother is the human who gave birth to him or the Kangaskhan who raised him, then flees into the jungle.  The kids have no time to chase them, because Jenny has been alerted that Team Rocket are attacking the Kangaskhan herd again, this time using a… a giant robot Kangaskhan that uses a fake roar to attract the real Kangaskhan – all but one of whom fall for it – and then subdues them with tranq darts.  Tommy attacks with his boomerang, which predictably does absolutely nothing, and Charmander sets the robot on fire, which doesn’t help either, but Tommy’s parents arrive in their helicopter and perform a kamikaze strike that destroys the robot.  As Tommy mourns his parents, they crawl out of the wreckage, battered but miraculously alive, clad entirely in animal skins, and announce that they have decided to live with Tommy and the Kangaskhan in the jungle so that he can keep both of his families.  So… yeah.

 Rapidash being awesome, by Dr. Karayua (http://dr-karayua.deviantart.com/).

In a misguided attempt to have this entry make sense, I have decided that these episodes do in fact have a theme in common, though the link is somewhat tangential: Pokémon and family.  The Flame Pokémonathon isn’t the first episode that’s made me think Pokémon are often a family business, but boy, it’s a big one.  Being made an honorary Laramie seems to be the only prize to be had in the Pokémon race, but just becoming associated with the Laramie name is apparently enough incentive for Dario to deal with notorious criminals in order to beat Lara.  Conversely, the prospect of being owed a favour by someone inside the Laramie clan is attractive enough to Jessie and James that they don’t ask Dario to give them anything else in exchange for their help, even though they don’t really stand to gain anything from the mission itself.  All of this is over a name – Dario already works with the Laramie family on their ranch, so it’s not even like it’s about getting him into the ‘company’ or anything.  He just wants to be able to call himself a Laramie.  Clearly these people have one heck of a reputation, and possibly some serious clout in Pokémon breeding circles.  One imagines that all this goes back generations.  Practically everyone in this world has something to do with Pokémon, one way or another, but it’s been my observation that a lot of the Pokémon trainers we know best are part of families whose history is closely tied up with Pokémon – Ash’s father is a trainer and his mother, from what we see of her relationship with Mr. Mime later in the series, easily could have been if she’d wanted; Gary’s grandfather is Professor Oak (come to think of it, the wording of Gary’s boast in Pokémon, I Choose You – “it’s good to have a grandfather in the Pokémon business” – seems to suggest an interesting line of thought); Misty’s sisters are all trainers; Brock’s parents are both trainers; and of course my all-time favourite example are the Dragon Masters of Blackthorn City, a family of fantastically powerful trainers who go back centuries.  Obviously this doesn’t mean that big, old families have a monopoly on Pokémon training and breeding in general, but it seems likely that becoming a skilled trainer or breeder is often strongly influenced by one’s upbringing and the way one was taught to view Pokémon as a child.

Speaking of the way children view Pokémon growing up…

 Yabba dabba doo.

Tomo was raised by Kangaskhan and, of course, is the series’ interpretation of the old ‘wolf child’ type; a human raised from a very young age by wild animals, the most notable literary portrayal being Tarzan.  In the real world we don’t actually know a whole lot about kids like this, purely because so many reports turn out to be hoaxes, but it’s believed that they normally have great difficulty learning how to speak and are incapable of grasping many of the basic concepts of human society.  Now, in Tomo’s case, the speech thing raises some interesting questions.  Although very few Pokémon can actually produce human speech, most of them seem to understand it, and since Tomo can speak in pidgin English, he was clearly old enough to have started talking already when his moron father dropped him out of the helicopter.  Presumably he could address his ‘family’ in human speech and they would understand him.  The thing is, though… he doesn’t.  He speaks to the Kangaskhan in their own language (and by the end of the episode has started teaching it to his human parents).  The fact that he even remembers how to speak English at all suggests to me that he must have had regular human contact during his time in the Pokémon preservation, I assume with Officer Jenny, since she apparently knows him and even seems to have a file on him, complete with a photograph.  This brings up a nagging little question: why the hell hasn’t she told anyone about him?  Unless this particular Jenny is somewhat unhinged (which, let’s be fair, is a possibility), the only reasonable answer is that Kanto doesn’t consider it entirely unreasonable for human children to be raised by Pokémon (extreme, clearly, but not unthinkable).  And why not?  Tomo clearly has a happy life with his adoptive family and seems to make a meaningful contribution to the wellbeing of the herd.  Most Pokémon seem to possess intelligence, self-awareness and social complexity that only a few animals can match, and unlike, say, chimpanzees or dolphins they also seem to be naturally predisposed to cooperating with humans.  Humans, by their own nature, prefer to take control and assimilate Pokémon into their society, but Tomo (and, later, his human parents) demonstrates that the reverse can and does happen, even in the face of contact with normal human societies.

I am gradually building up a very strange view of this universe…

Starter Pokémon: Final Thoughts

WARNING: This entry is clearly too long and I have no idea why I wrote it.

Let’s talk about starter Pokémon.

Your starter Pokémon is your partner, a bird of your feather, a pea in your pod, the cheese to your macaroni.  It is like a huge feathery pea covered in melted parmesan.

…yeah, that metaphor got away from me a little.

 Today's pictures are a set of three, the joint creations of Finni (http://finni.deviantart.com/) and Zimmay (http://zimmay.deviantart.com/).  In this one, we see the Grass starters relaxing in the woods.

My point is, this is supposed to be the Pokémon that defines your experience of Pokémon training, what Pokémon mean to you personally, and your own style as a trainer… so it had better be good.  These are the most important designs in the game to get right, barring maybe plot-relevant legendary Pokémon, and there’s even more to get right than when you’re just working on any old filler Pokémon.  For one thing, you have to be sure – at least, as far as humanly possible – that there will be at least one starter Pokémon in each trio that appeals to everyone.  Obviously that battle’s over before it even starts because there are always going to be a few people who think that all three are terrible, but there are a couple of ways to minimise that, and Game Freak do seem to try their best.  Of course, many of us will just accept the Grass/Fire/Water paradigm and take what we’re given from our favourite elements, but for a lot of people, including a lot of new players, other factors are going to be important.  It’s good to give a choice of personality types and aesthetic styles – often these are divided along elemental stereotypes, so we generally get an aggressive Fire-type, a stoic Water-type and a laid-back Grass-type.  This isn’t always the case, though; Black and White, for instance, have a stoic Grass-type, a laid-back Fire-type and an aggressive Water-type (forgetting for the moment that Oshawott’s art and sprites are terrible and should never have seen the light of day).  I think you can argue that it’s probably better, in general, for starter Pokémon to be exemplars of their elements’ defining traits, rather than exceptions, because many people are going to choose starters according to element and won’t necessarily want Pokémon that are radically different from the norm.  Obviously, that’s not a hard-and-fast rule, but this is probably not the place to get experimental and create a Grass Pokémon with the power to drain and kill plants or something weird like that.  Anyway… the other important thing is that these Pokémon have to be strong, or at least decent (bearing in mind, of course, that the things that make a Pokémon good for high-powered competitive play are often quite different to the things that make a Pokémon good for in-game storyline play).  If your starter Pokémon is weak, you’re either going to ditch the thing as soon as possible or keep it around as a sort of mascot while vaguely resenting it the whole time. You can find accounts of exactly this kind of thing happening in Yellow Version – although later games have made an effort to help him out, an unevolved Pikachu is, let’s be fair here, a pretty terrible Pokémon.  A lot of people just stuff him in the PC and never look back (and, heck, why not?  Yellow gives you all three of the original starters anyway); others accept that he’s terrible and use him anyway because why else would you play Yellow Version, damnit, and a few people just never notice that he’s terrible because they’re also using Raticate and Butterfree.

Yellow Version gives you no choice in your starter Pokémon, so if you don’t like Pikachu, you’re out of luck, and it sticks you with a starter Pokémon who is demonstrably weaker than almost any other Pokémon you could possibly pick.  For these reasons, it is an example of a really terrible way of handing out starter Pokémon.  It works anyway because 1) Pikachu can get away with anything, 2) we all wanted to re-enact Ash’s journey, 3) if you didn’t like Pikachu you wouldn’t have bought Yellow anyway, and 4) let’s face it, the real reason we were playing Yellow was because we wanted Bulbasaur, Charmander and Squirtle.  All that said, Yellow is the only game so far that actually makes an effort to treat your starter Pokémon as special and emphasise your relationship with that Pokémon by introducing, just for Pikachu, the forerunner of the happiness mechanic that has been part of the game since Gold and Silver, as well as having Pikachu follow you around in the overworld.  He may be just a mascot, but a fair bit of effort went into making him the best mascot possible, and as a result the game works.  Well, it does if you like Pikachu.  If not then you dump him in the PC and forget about him; he’ll hate you when you take him out, but it’s not like you were planning on doing that anyway.  None of the other main series games has ever done anything like what Yellow did, probably because no other Pokémon can really compare to Pikachu for widespread popular appeal.  The original Pokémon Ranger, like Yellow, gave you no choice of partner, sticking you with Plusle (if you’re a girl) or Minun (if you’re a boy), which is a little painful if you despise Plusle and Minun as much as I do, but aside from having powers that no other Pokémon in the game possesses, your partner actually plays an active role in the storyline, which seems only appropriate.  According to Bulbapedia, Guardian Signs gives you a Pichu with a ukulele, however I am convinced that this is some sort of misinformation because not even Nintendo is that ridiculous.  I think Gale of Darkness starts you off with an Eevee, who is sort of the ideal choice for a single starter because her split evolution ensures that most anyone will be able to evolve her into something that appeals (how many Yellow version players wish that your douchebag rival hadn’t swiped the Eevee that Professor Oak meant for you?).  However, I digress.

 In the second of Finni and Zimmay's set of starter fanart, the Fire starters roast marshmallows together one warm evening.

One of the uncomfortable little problems with the Pokémon games that we don’t like to talk about is the severe disconnect between the series’ persistent and often heavy-handed theme of partnership and the way the games actually play.  This has come up in my reviews of the anime a couple of times: we’re clearly meant to want to imitate Ash, who has only a handful of Pokémon and loves them like his family, but in practice I (and, I’ll bet, most other players) are more like Gary – if I take a quick look through my PC on Black Version, for instance, I find a couple of dozen Pokémon I use for battles, perhaps another dozen I use for various utility purposes like swimming and flight, and literally hundreds that I never use at all; they just sit there gathering dust because, having earned their Pokédex entries, I no longer have any particular need of them.  I keep them around because I might someday need them to produce children for serious training.  Does that seem right to you?  A game that placed a great deal of importance on players’ relationships with every individual Pokémon would, of course, be vastly impractical if it were based on anything like the game’s current structure, with its monolithic Pokédex quest and the notable disadvantages associated with continuing to use your in-game team after completing the storyline.  Just one Pokémon, though, for whom the player is assumed to care particularly deeply, as with Pikachu in Yellow… that, I feel, would make gameplay and message hang together a touch less haphazardly.

 There’s a few ways this could be done.  Having the starter follow you around, as Pikachu in Yellow, is an obvious starting point; having it react to events in the storyline, as Plusle and Minun do in Ranger, is a logical continuation.  Something that has tempted me for a long time is the idea of evolution triggered by plot events (with some alternative method available post-Elite Four so you can evolve other starter Pokémon you obtain later); possibly even a single starter Pokémon with a split evolution determined by the way the player tends to react to in-game events, or the way the player treats the starter – which isn’t necessarily a strict contrast between ‘well’ and ‘badly,’ but more a contrast between different but valid and potentially overlapping types of relationship, like ‘intellectual,’ ‘emotional,’ ‘competitive,’ ‘protective’ and so on.  To keep this working without hiccups, it might be wise to include an option for the starter to stay with the player at all times, even when there are six other Pokémon in the party, but become ‘inactive’ and unusable until a space opens up – some people just don’t like using their starters, while others may want to branch out after several playthroughs.  Perhaps the starter’s presence even grants some kind of bonus to the rest of the party.  I could go on.  All of this, of course, ups the ante on creating starters that no one will strongly object to (or picking some from the ranks of existing Pokémon – Eevee seems to be universally adored) or offering a wider variety of starters (BLASPHEMY!) to ensure that there’s something for everyone.  Personally, if I were aiming for this kind of effect, I would probably base the design around something associated with partnership in the real world somehow, like a dog or horse, just to hammer in the point.  Assuming new Pokémon were being created, I would imagine rejecting dozens of designs (perhaps reworking some into regular Pokémon) before deciding on the final set; after all, this is not something to be done by halves.

 The Water starters splash around in a pool in the last piece of this set by Finni and Zimmay.

The other main topic I want to address today is the Grass-Fire-Water paradigm.  A lot of people want a change; I remember there was a great deal of excited speculation prior to the release of Diamond and Pearl that Game Freak were going to try experimenting with a Dark-Fighting-Psychic trio instead.  This trio doesn’t have quite the same relationships between the types as Grass, Water and Fire, because Dark-types are strictly immune to Psychic attacks rather than simply resistant.  In fact, it’s very difficult to construct a trio that works in just the same way as Grass-Fire-Water without using at least one of those three types, since so many elemental relationships aren’t reciprocal (for instance, Ice attacks are strong against Ground-types, but Ice-types don’t resist Ground attacks).  The only one I can think of is Fighting-Flying-Rock, which is somewhat problematic because of Game Freak’s apparent distaste for pure Flying-types.  It’s not immediately obvious why this should be a point against a change, but the big advantage of Grass-Fire-Water is its potential for easing new players into the system; the way the three types interact is quite simple compared to other possible trios, and the reasons for those interactions are also fairly intuitive (Grass-drains-Water is a little out there, but Fire-burns-Grass and Water-douses-Fire are much easier to understand than, say, Dark-mindfucks-Psychic or however that one is supposed to work).  However, Game Freak have shown by way of the Striaton Gym and its triplet Gym Leaders that they are open to more sophisticated ways of indoctrinating new players into Pokémon’s vast and convoluted game of Rock-Paper-Scissors-Lizard-Spock, so it’s possible to imagine a game where the starters are no longer the primary vehicle for introducing the mechanic.  Arguably, it would actually help to have a starter trio with more complicated relationships, since new players are going to have to deal with stuff like immunities, mutual resistances, and the Dragon- and Ghost-types’ strengths against themselves sooner or later, and at present the games make no real effort to introduce any of that; they just encourage a vague (incorrect) belief that all elemental advantages are reciprocal.  I spent much of my childhood assuming that Steel attacks must be strong against Dark-types, Ghost-types, and goodness knows what else because Steel Pokémon were resistant to those attack types.  Again, I could bring up my favourite game mechanic of the day, the split evolution; in this case, the potential advantage is in allowing new players to delay their choice of element until after they understand the ramifications of that choice.  Two other ideas I’ve toyed with are having a set of starters that all become Dragon-types upon reaching their final evolutions, so that all three are strong against each other, or having a set of starters who shift into each other’s elements (so the Grass-type becomes Grass/Water, the Water-type becomes Water/Fire, and the Fire-type becomes Fire/Grass)… not because these would necessarily be good ideas, you understand, but because they would be different and strange and would probably force the designers to come up with some really weird, quirky stuff.

We’ve seen an impressive variety of starter Pokémon over the years; tough, proud, gentle, courageous, reclusive, wise… for the most part, these are – as they very well should be – quite good designs.  Like so much else in Pokémon, however, this is one place where I wish that, once in a while, Game Freak would dare to be different.  Give them another year or two, and they’ll be announcing the approach of generation six… and goodness knows, none of us want another Fire/Fighting-type…

Piplup, Prinplup and Empoleon

Piplup, Prinplup and Empoleon.  Artwork by Ken Sugimori; at Nintendo, no-one can hear you scream.I love penguins.  So clumsy on land, so graceful the moment they hit the water, and adorable to boot… Who doesn’t think Piplup is cute?  Seriously, who doesn’t?  I certainly do, although I have the same sort of problem with him and his evolved form, Prinplup, as I did with Totodile, Croconaw and Feraligatr; namely that they’re just penguins.  Those capelike flaps they have down their backs are a nice touch, beginning the line’s background nobility-and-royalty aesthetic by making them look like little princes or dukes without seeming too out-of-place.  That’s hardly at the centre of the design, though, and overall they’re a little bit unremarkable.  Luckily, unlike with poor Totodile, Game Freak actually seem to have put some thought into this Pokémon’s personality.  Cute though they may be, Piplup are also filled with stubborn pride; they ignore orders, quickly brush off any failures, and seem to find charity and kindness offensive, caring only to prove that they don’t need any help to survive.  Prinplup, likewise, have an incredibly strong arrogant streak.  In a major departure from the way real penguins behave, Prinplup are incapable of living together in colonies because, like monarchs, they cannot stand to look upon others as equals (or, heaven forbid, superiors).  As Empoleon, the ‘Emperor Pokémon,’ they remain extremely proud and lash out at anyone or anything offensive, however they do seem to gain a measure of self-control; they’re said to avoid squabbles if they can, and it’s implied that they can live in groups, led by the Empoleon with the biggest horns (presumably Piplup live in colonies led by Empoleon, leave when they evolve into Prinplup, and return only once they have evolved again and learned to keep their pride under control).  Now, those horns… The designers really do seem to have made an effort to make sure that Empoleon isn’t ‘just a big penguin,’ with the clawed hands on the insides of his bladed flippers, and his sharp-edged dorsal and ventral fins, but the big, obvious thing is that set of three horns.  Empoleon’s horns spring from the upper surface of his beak and form a kind of visor over his face, in the shape of a trident.  It looks a bit strange, and probably implies that his beak works more like a mammalian jaw than most birds’ do (since the upper part would be more or less fixed in place and wouldn’t be able to flex upwards) but that’s not inherently a problem.  It protects his face, and the trident is a good strong symbol of power and the ocean (in fact, now that I come to think of it, it forms a nice symbolic connection between his two elements, Water and Steel).  I can’t help but think that Piplup and Prinplup are missing something in their art to give them uniqueness and focus, some extra detail or adornment; Empoleon does have that, though, and the heavy emphasis placed on their character traits is quite refreshing.

Shiny Piplup with a bowtie, by Adam Dreifus, who may or may not be a mantis shrimp (http://adamdreifus.tumblr.com/).  Bowties are cool.

So, what do you do with Empoleon?  Well… he’s a pretty weird Pokémon.  He’s the only Water/Steel dual-type in the game, which is a big plus; his unique set of weaknesses and resistances leaves him with unfortunate vulnerabilities to three of the stronger offensive types, Fighting, Ground and Electric, but eleven resistances and a Poison immunity is nothing to sniff at (Steel-types have all the luck…).  In spite of all the talk in his Pokédex entries about being able to cleave apart icebergs with his bladed wings, Empoleon is actually a special attacker – one of the most powerful Water-type special attackers in the game, in fact, behind Omastar, Gorebyss and a couple of legendary Pokémon.  Unless you teach him Agility, he’s far too slow to be a sweeper, but with solid defences and all those resistances, he might do okay as a sort of tanky thing.  I know that what people used to like doing with Empoleon was this one absurdly specific moveset that only he could do properly, which involves using Substitute to slowly drop Empoleon’s HP until he’ll eat a Petaya Berry to boost his special attack, then using Agility and going nuts.  Thanks to Empoleon’s Torrent ability, his low health causes his Water attacks to enjoy a further damage bonus, so very little can stand up against his Surf at that point, and Ice Beam cleans up most everything else.  Petaya Berries aren’t available on Black and White yet, though, and the synergy between the berry and Torrent is kind of the lynchpin of the whole tactic.  That’s not to say you can’t still use Empoleon as a sweeper, of course.  He doesn’t have a whole lot of special attacks outside the Water-type standbys of Surf and Ice Beam, but with Grass Knot to handle other Water-types, that doesn’t leave all that many blind spots (refrain from using Flash Cannon unless you really hate Ice Pokémon; Steel attacks are silly).  If you can be bothered importing an Empoleon from Platinum and desperately need help with Dark- and Psychic-types, Signal Beam is an option, but you’re probably better off with Grass Knot.  If you really want to confuse people, you could slap Swords Dance on your Empoleon, since his physical attack stat isn’t terrible and his physical movepool is decent (you’ve got Waterfall, Earthquake, Rock Slide, Drill Peck, and Brick Break) and he does have Aqua Jet to compensate for his appalling speed.  Like I said, though… only if you really want to confuse people.

A Prinplup by Rainbow Cemetery (http://rainbow-cemetery.deviantart.com/), looking exactly as arrogant and dismissive as Prinplup ought to be.Personally I think I’d go with the tank-style Empoleon; he has to rely on Rest or Aqua Ring for healing, which is a pain, but then again, eleven resistances… as with most bulky Water Pokémon, you’ll want to go with Black and White’s great gift to Water, Scald, over Surf – it’s less powerful, but burns will make life hell for opposing physical attackers (and, what do you know, physical is Empoleon’s weaker defensive side).  I’m pretty sure Empoleon’s only real ‘support’ moves are Stealth Rock and Roar (and Stealth Rock requires importing him from a fourth-generation game), but being able to lay the rocks down for yourself and then send Pokémon running into them with Roar isn’t too shabby.  And yeah, I guess technically Empoleon does have a Dream World ability – Defiant, which responds to any reduction in Empoleon’s stats by doubling his attack score – but unless you’re going with the confusing Swords Dance Empoleon route, this is just plain useless, so if you haven’t got a Dream World Empoleon, don’t worry; you’re not missing much.

The more I think about it, the weirder it seems that Empoleon isn’t a physical attacker; he certainly looks imposing enough, it fits his flavour, his physical movepool is, to be honest, probably better than his special movepool, and he gets Swords Dance and Defiant (in fact, Swords Dance is technically on his level-up list, so he doesn’t even need a TM).  I mean, it’s not like it’s central to the design, but “wings that can cleave through an ice floe” sort of suggests physical attacks are his primary fighting style, and also that he would, y’know, learn Steel Wing (okay, he can, but only by using an obsolete TM).  Some days though, I just don’t care, because Empoleon is still a pretty badass Pokémon – come on, an imperial armoured war-penguin?  Why the hell not?  Some of the artists seem to have a slight tendency to abuse him in the sprites and the anime, he gets very fat in some portrayals and it just doesn’t look right; penguins are meant to be sleek, and even if this is a bulky armoured penguin he still needs to swim.  Prinplup annoys me a little because he’s given up Piplup’s cuteness but hasn’t yet picked up the details that make Empoleon more than just a penguin; honestly, if he weren’t a starter Pokémon, I would be totally happy just to ditch Piplup and Prinplup and keep Empoleon as a stand-alone.  Again, though, I’m pleased that Game Freak have given these Pokémon psychological traits (because that’s the sort of thing we don’t learn about just by using them), and I like that those traits seem to develop as they evolve… even though it’s anyone’s guess whether that’s by coincidence or design.  On the whole, Mudkip, Marshtomp and Swampert are probably better designed, but as we know by now, I have an irrational dislike for Swampert, so Empoleon is probably my favourite Water-type starter Pokémon.

And that’s a wrap!  Twelve starter Pokémon, and all their evolved forms, done and dusted.  I want to do a sort of wrap-up for my next entry, talk about trends and ideas that have been thrown up by these entries, and maybe talk about my take on what’s important for a starter Pokémon.  After that, well, I’m sorry to say that real life has been catching up with me to some extent, so I’m going to take a break for, say, two weeks to work on my dissertation on archaeometry and the Greco-Roman pottery trade; then it’s right back to another thirty-odd episodes of the anime.  Should be fun!

Chimchar, Monferno and Infernape

Chimchar.  Artwork by Ken Sugimori; Nintendo is the worst form of government, except for all the others that have been tried.OH DEAR GODS IT’S INFERNAPE RUN YOU FOOLS

These are Pokémon to inspire terror.  You wouldn’t know it to look at them, but trust me, they are.  Not because of sheer power – Charizard, Typhlosion and Blaziken are more powerful than Infernape – but because of two things that, in Pokémon, are often far more important: speed and versatility.  I’m getting ahead of myself, though.  Ladies and gentlemen: Chimchar, Monferno and Infernape.

The first thing you notice about these Pokémon is that they don’t really have a lot of heft to them.  Charmander, Cyndaquil and even Torchic are more solidly built than Chimchar, and that doesn’t change as they evolve.  This is because Chimchar marks a (small) divergence, at last, from the fire-as-destroyer archetype and focuses on a closely related quality of fire – its speed.  Like Rapidash and Arcanine, Chimchar, Monferno and Infernape are Fire Pokémon whose element manifests not as huge destructive power but as phenomenal agility.  They are among the few Fire-types who are not described as fighting primarily with their fire; one assumes that they do, and they do learn attacks like Ember and Fire Spin, but they seem to prefer using fire to intimidate enemies rather than to incinerate them directly (Monferno and Infernape’s bright facial markings, blue and red respectively, likewise seem meant for intimidation, as in mandrills and similar species).  There’s actually something of a disconnect here, in that Infernape is really just as good at special attacks as at physical attacks, but this bothers me far less than all the Pokémon who aren’t good at the things they are supposed to be, so I’ll leave it.  Rather than using fire, Chimchar and his evolutions use flurries of lightning-quick blows from all of their limbs simultaneously and from every possible direction to batter foes into submission – as might well be expected from anthropomorphic monkeys with prehensile limbs and tails (or a practitioner of ‘monkey’ style kung fu).  This kind of acrobatic, literally off-the-wall combat style, familiar to us all from martial arts films, has few other exponents in the world of Pokémon; before Infernape, I can think of maybe Hitmontop, and after him, Mienshao.  Is it especially clever creating a monkey Pokémon based on monkey kung fu?  Perhaps not, but it makes sense, and it’s pretty damn kickass.  Aesthetically speaking… aesthetically Chimchar bugs me; his proportions seem off, his head too big for his scrawny body and limbs – it’s a common feature of most primates, I think, that infants have disproportionately large heads, but you can go too far (the effect is reduced in the in-game sprites, but it’s still there).  I suspect they may have made him too human; his hands, eyes and hair remind me, disconcertingly, of a human baby, but then he has no nose… if you’re familiar with the ‘uncanny valley’ effect, this is what Chimchar makes me feel.  Monferno and Infernape lose that, though, so I suppose I’m okay with it.  It’s also a little strange that Infernape loses his flaming tail and gains a crown of flames instead, but I can’t deny it does look cool, as does the spiral motif that develops out of the swirls visible on Chimchar and Monferno’s chests, adding to the overall impression of fluidity.

 Monferno.  Artwork by Ken Sugimori.

As we learned in Blaziken’s entry, however, Infernape has committed a fairly serious sin: he pretty much stole her schtick, in the process becoming the nexus of just about the biggest balance clusterfuck this franchise has ever seen (or would have seen, if game balance had ever been a thing in Pokémon anyway).  Blaziken, when she was introduced, was the only Fire/Fighting type, and a powerful and terrifying mixed attacker with a wide range of dangerous attacks.  Come Diamond and Pearl, she was still a powerful and terrifying mixed attacker with a wide range of dangerous attacks… but Infernape had all that, and blinding speed to back it up.  Most offensive Pokémon are best used by focussing solely on either physical or special attacks; likewise, you’ll get the most mileage out of many defensive Pokémon by focussing solely on one type of defence.  You can use Infernape and Blaziken this way, and they will perform wonderfully.  However, they also perform wonderfully as mixed attackers, called ‘wallbreakers’ for their ability to consistently pick on the weaker defensive sides of powerful defensive Pokémon like Weezing and Snorlax.  Now, yes, Blaziken’s attack and special attack stats are higher than Infernape’s.  However, we’re talking here about two Pokémon whose job is to use some of the most powerful attacks in the game (Fire Blast, Flare Blitz, Earthquake, Close Combat, Focus Blast, Hi Jump Kick) to hammer Pokémon who are specialised in the wrong kind of defence.  At this point, extra power isn’t all that big a deal.  Speed, on the other hand, is the only all-or-nothing stat in Pokémon – you’re either faster than your opponent or you aren’t – and as such, a few points of speed can be disproportionately useful or useless depending on exactly how fast you are.  In this case, extra speed means outrunning some of the most powerful Pokémon in the game and potentially landing a fatal hit where you might otherwise wind up sprawled on the ground.  With access to both Swords Dance and Nasty Plot, Infernape can buff either of his offensive stats to ridiculous levels anyway, should you so desire.  To add insult to injury, Infernape gets U-Turn, which Blaziken lacks, the so-called ‘best move in the game,’ for its ability to switch a Pokémon out after seeing whether your opponent will do the same, and if so, what’s being switched in (the fact that it does damage as well is the icing on the cake).  It’s hard to think of a reason to use Blaziken over Infernape… or at least, it was in Diamond and Pearl, before part two of that balance clusterfuck happened and Blaziken got Speed Boost, and you can read all about that in her entry.

 Infernape.  Artwork by Ken Sugimori.

So, assuming no Speed Boost for Blaziken (and Dream World abilities for starter Pokémon aren’t exactly easy to get; all of the released Dream World starters are male, which makes breeding them impossible) Infernape is, essentially, ‘Blaziken, only better.’  Swampert had a similar thing going on with Feraligatr, but Feraligatr later staked out his own territory, and the fact that Blaziken and Infernape share the same specific type combination, Fire/Fighting, accentuates our natural impulse to compare the two.  If Infernape existed in a vacuum, so to speak, I would regard this as a job well done.  He’s one of those Pokémon that can swing matches very quickly, but he’s also quite delicate and has a couple of nasty common weaknesses, so I don’t think I’d say he’s too strong, taken in isolation.  Infernape doesn’t exist in a vacuum, though.  I don’t think the designers necessarily realised that Infernape is better (or, more adequately, has more potential) than Blaziken, since it’s pretty clear they don’t think about individual Pokémon in the same way or under the same conditions as studied competitive players, but it must surely have occurred to them that the two Pokémon have very similar sets of powers, and that their position as successive Fire starters would encourage comparison.  My default stance is that it’s bad form to design one Pokémon that usurps another, whether successfully or not, and while Infernape and Blaziken definitely have very distinct flavour they have the same type combination, the same strong points, and similar tactics.  If this were my last year’s Unova Pokédex series, when I was dealing with a whole new generation, I would either shout incoherently for a while and slam a big heavy “I hereby deny this Pokémon’s right to exist” on Infernape’s head, or sheepishly admit that the second attempt really was better and maybe recommend some additions to the older Pokémon.  The trouble is Game Freak already did try improving Blaziken, bless their little hearts, and totally failed to comprehend the enormity of what they were giving her, so now I have no idea where to go with this; I have a fairly solid doctrine in place for complaining about new mistakes, but I’m still not totally sorted on how to handle old ones.

 Infernape being awesome, by Endless Whispers (http://endless-whispers.deviantart.com/).  Be sure to check out his gallery!

Infernape is an awesome Pokémon; I love his aesthetic qualities, his concept, while not as clever as Torterra’s, is still at the very least amusing, and he’s one of the best non-legendary Pokémon in the game.  And… frankly, Game Freak shouldn’t have made him.  I guess I’m feeling paradoxical today.  I think that, for Blaziken’s sake, this design should have been worked into something quite different.  For a primate design, I would be very tempted to work with fire as a symbol of creativity and inspiration, particularly focussing on Infernape’s crown of fire, and make him a Fire/Psychic-type, focusing on special attacks, although that doesn’t work with the whole ‘monkey kung fu’ thing, and would imply a total art redesign, so a more practical suggestion would be to go with the old monkey-as-trickster archetype and turn Infernape into something more like what Mienshao later became – a hard-hitting Pokémon whose greatest strength isn’t actually hitting hard, but spreading disruption and chaos.  Basically, since the flavour side of things is where Infernape really is quite different from Blaziken, I’d want to work with that to create mechanical distinctions as well.  In the end the resulting Pokémon probably wouldn’t be as powerful… whether that’s a bad thing or not, I leave up to you.

Turtwig, Grotle and Torterra

Turtwig.  Artwork by Ken Sugimori; that is not dead which can eternal lie, and with strange aeons even Nintendo may die.Okay; Diamond and Pearl.  The last three starters (since I’ve already covered Tepig, Snivy and Oshawott).  I’ve always liked these three; the designs are quirky, they’re all pretty powerful (if I had to use a whole trio on a single team, this is probably the one I’d go for, although the Ruby/Sapphire ones give them a run for their money), and the way they interact with each other is pretty interesting in itself.  Let’s take a look at Turtwig and see how he measures up.

As you’ve probably read by now, I love all the Grass-type starters.  However, I think Torterra is the only one whose design potentially equals or betters Venusaur’s.  Turtwig, Grotle and Torterra are based on the old mythological motif of the ‘world turtle,’ who appears in several places around the world, but most famously in Hindu legend as one of the avatars of Vishnu, his shell serving as a pivot when the gods and demons together churn the ocean of milk using an upturned mountain to produce the water of life (it… was just that kind of Friday night, okay?).  The world turtle motif is directly referenced in the Pokémon world’s corresponding ancient myth that an enormous Torterra lived deep beneath the earth.  The design includes elements of every part of the natural world – earth, water, plants and animals.  Turtwig originally hosts a tiny sapling on his head, which grows into twin rows of bushes on Grotle’s shell of compacted soil, and finally into a huge tree on Torterra’s immense carapace, accompanied by great spikes of moss-covered stone.  Grotle often carry smaller Pokémon around on their backs over long distances, and Torterra becomes so large, and his foliage so luscious, that entire communities of Pokémon can be found on a wild Torterra’s back, creating a pocket ecosystem in which some Pokémon spend their whole lives.  Turtwig, Grotle and Torterra also have some minor powers related to water, completing their miniature world.  All Grass Pokémon, logically, are very reliant on water, but the designers seem to have wanted to drive it home with these three; they always live by lakes and rivers, drinking causes their shells to harden and grow strong, they have the special ability to sense sources of pure water, which they use to lead other Pokémon there, and wild Grotle are said to protect hidden springs.  These Pokémon aren’t just parts of ecosystems, they are ecosystems.  I love this design.  It’s detailed and fascinating, drawing on a well-known mythological motif combined with symbolically significant traits and powers to give Turtwig, Grotle and Torterra an interesting place in the world of Pokémon.  I don’t think it would be at all bold to say that Torterra is one of the best-designed Grass Pokémon in the entire history of the game.  My one minor gripe here is the scale; as Pokémon go, Torterra is pretty massive, more than two meters high and about five meters long, but I can’t help but feel that he (and perhaps Grotle as well) should be even bigger, to realistically fit their portrayal as supporters of whole communities.  At some point, though, it would become ridiculous to talk about using these things in a battle in a stadium.  Besides, we never see wild Torterra in the game; all of them are given out as starter Turtwig or hatched from eggs – who knows how old they get in the wild, or whether they ever stop growing?

The fact that they remind me of dinosaurs has nothing to do with why I like them.  Honest.

 Grotle.  Artwork by Ken Sugimori.

Turtwig is the only Grass-type starter who gains a second type upon evolving, becoming Grass/Ground, appropriately enough, upon reaching his final form (Bulbasaur is Grass/Poison to begin with, and the others stay pure-Grass all the way through).  This is interesting because it’s part of the way Game Freak decided to play with the traditional Grass/Fire/Water paradigm in Diamond and Pearl.  Normally, Grass drains Water, Fire burns Grass, and Water douses Fire, and this is the way Turtwig, Chimchar and Piplup work as well, but when they reach their adult forms, they mix up the usual strengths and weaknesses a little bit.  Torterra is a Ground-type, so even though he’s still vulnerable to Fire attacks, he can smack Infernape with a pretty nasty Earthquake.  Empoleon is a Steel-type, so he is no longer particularly weak against Grass attacks, but he’s almost as frightened of Earthquake as Infernape is.  On the flip side, Torterra’s second element makes him even more vulnerable to Empoleon’s Ice Beam than most Grass-types, and strips him of his resistance to Water attacks.  Finally, Empoleon can still hammer Infernape with Water attacks, but also has to be wary of Infernape’s Close Combat, since Steel Pokémon don’t like Fighting attacks one bit.  Essentially, the game starts with a traditional Grass-beats-Water-beats-Fire-beats-Grass setup, but by the end of the game all three have some pretty devastating guns to level against each other.  I suspect that quite a lot of thought went into this; it’s an interesting change to the usual dynamic and part of what I like about the fourth-generation starters.  It’s sort of a shame Black and White didn’t continue this – Emboar can smack Samurott around with Grass Knot or Wild Charge, if you have the appropriate TMs, and Samurott can give Serperior a Megahorn to the face, but they seem to have forgotten to give Serperior anything to hurt Emboar (as usual, Grass-types Don’t Get Nice Things).  Oh well…

 Torterra.  Artwork by Ken Sugimori.

The mechanics changes of Diamond and Pearl opened up the possibility of physical Grass attacks, so why not kick things off with a Grass-type physical tank?  Only two previous Grass Pokémon had ever shown a significant bias towards physical attacks over special attacks – Parasect and Breloom, whom, let’s face it, we use for Spore, not for their attacks (Breloom less and less as the generations passed, but Spore is still his biggest advantage) – so Torterra blazed new ground… and boy, did he blaze it.  Torterra is the slowest of all the starters, but possibly the toughest, and also one of the most powerful.  Curse is an obvious choice to emphasise those qualities since Torterra isn’t going to outrun anything that cares anyway, but if you want something a little less predictable you can try Rock Polish, to bring Torterra’s speed up to something resembling respectability, or even Swords Dance if you’re reckless enough.  Torterra’s primary attack, of course, is Earthquake; sadly, Grass attacks don’t combine particularly well with Ground attacks, since they share all of Ground’s offensive weaknesses.  If you do want one, you have two options; Wood Hammer is stronger than Seed Bomb, but Seed Bomb doesn’t cause recoil damage.  Rock attacks, on the other hand, do mesh very well with Earthquake, so Stone Edge is a good place to go.  Torterra’s other main offensive options are Crunch and Superpower; Superpower is much more useful for actually killing stuff, but the penalty it inflicts to the user’s physical attack and defence is particularly undesirable for a slow, bulky Pokémon like Torterra.  Leech Seed gets you a trickle of healing, though Torterra, with his large HP total and relative inability to stay in control of a Leech Seed/Substitute scenario, is not really an ideal candidate for using it; Synthesis is weather-dependent but probably your best option.  There are also a few support moves to mix things up if you feel so inclined; Reflect and Light Screen for team defence, the ever-present Stealth Rock is available from a TM on Diamond and Pearl if you don’t have a team member who can use it yet, Roar is always welcome on a slow, tough Pokémon for messing with your opponent’s strategies, and for a particularly defensive Torterra you might use Stockpile, a hereditary move from Carnivine or Victreebel, which boosts both defence and special defence together (it has other effects, but they are irrelevant and distracting).

It’s not all good news, of course.  Grass/Ground is a fairly poor defensive typing, with two resistances and an immunity to four weaknesses – including a crippling double-weakness to Ice.  Torterra is very easily dealt with using a good solid Ice Beam, and he’s too slow to do much about it.  He also has difficulty handling other Grass-types, who are largely unperturbed by most of his offensive powers.  In short, although he’s a perfectly respectable Pokémon, he has some crucial flaws, and is much less versatile than a Pokémon like Venusaur, which makes him a lot easier to stop.  However, if you play him to his strengths, Torterra can flatten some powerful enemies, and with some of the coolest flavour I’ve ever seen in Pokémon, he’s easily one of my favourite starters.

Mudkip, Marshtomp and Swampert

Mudkip.  Artwork by Ken Sugimori; auctoritas picturae huius Nintendoni est.So i herd u liek Mudkipz?

…eheh.  Sorry.  I couldn’t resist.

caelicolae immortales, I hate that meme…

Today’s cute little bundle of utter nonsense is Mudkip, the… swampy… fishy… thing.  Now, as for me personally, I’m sorry to say that, no, I don’t liek Mudkipz.  His evolutions, Marshtomp and Swampert, belong to an archetype that I’m simply not very fond of.  However, that doesn’t mean this is a bad design.  Maybe Game Freak realised on their own how boring Feraligatr was, or maybe someone pointed out to them, or maybe (far more likely) Mudkip just happened to get lucky, because he is anything but a simple cartoon of an ordinary animal.  He’s probably based on something like an axolotl – a curious species of salamander that, although it does have an ‘adult’ form, never actually metamorphoses under natural conditions, and retains the gills of a larval salamander for its whole life (you can force an axolotl to metamorphose and become a land animal, but the stress will either drastically shorten the poor thing’s lifespan or kill it outright – I’m sure there’s a metaphor in that somewhere…).  Axolotls are fully aquatic, but Mudkip is more an amphibious creature; he has fins to help him move through the water, but his legs can support him on land, and while he still has functioning gills, he seems to have air-breathing lungs as well.  He retains this mixture of traits as he evolves into a veritable ‘creature from the black lagoon.’  Well, eventually.  I’ve always thought Marshtomp looked a little bit gormless, and to be honest Swampert does too, in Sugimori’s art, but most of his sprites are much better, and it doesn’t take a great deal of imagination anyway to picture this froglike behemoth as a pretty terrifying opponent.  As I said, I don’t liek Mudkipz – in general, I’m simply not a fan of brutish, physically imposing Pokémon, which is what he eventually becomes (Mudkip himself, I admit, is pretty cute).  As brutish, physically imposing Pokémon go, however, Swampert is a keeper.  Pure boulder-crushing power isn’t all there is to him; the whole line also has impressive sensory abilities.  Mudkip, Marshtomp and Swampert can use their fins to detect pressure differences and ‘feel’ objects and Pokémon moving around them – most effectively in water, but in air as well – and have extremely good vision, allowing them to see through murky water with ease.  Swampert can even predict storms well in advance by sensing air currents, and will pile up boulders to protect his coastal territory.  I find it odd that they apparently live on beaches, since they seem to be based on a freshwater animal and are linked with swamps and marshes; in particular they like to dig burrows in mud and damp soil, not sand.  I think they must live in estuaries, mangroves and salt marshes, intersections of terrain types, which implies a fair degree of hardiness and adaptability – and, to look at these Pokémon, I can certainly believe that.

 Marshtomp.  Artwork by Ken Sugimori.

Swampert is a great big bulky physical attacker, and in that respect he does a pretty good job of stealing what little of importance Feraligatr ever had to his name.  Like Sceptile, he shows that Game Freak did, in fact, learn from their mistakes with Feraligatr, but unlike Sceptile he takes every possible opportunity to rub Feraligatr’s face in it by being better at everything ever.  Both of them were mainly reliant on Earthquake in Ruby and Sapphire, but Swampert was by choice and Feraligatr by necessity; since Swampert is a Water/Ground dual-type his Earthquakes are significantly stronger than Feraligatr’s and actually make a good primary attack.  Swampert got just about every important attack Feraligatr did except for Swords Dance, and was better at all of them.  In fact, his stat distribution makes him better than Feraligatr at pretty much everything.  He’s slower, but Feraligatr isn’t fast enough for speed to matter a whole lot anyway; all his attacks are more powerful, he’s significantly better at taking special attacks, and thanks to his higher HP they’re actually pretty similar in terms of physical bulk.  To cap it all off, Swampert’s type combination doesn’t just make his Earthquakes stronger; it also grants immunity to Electric attacks, leaving him with only one weakness (Grass – a type not exactly known for its powerful attacks or formidable sweepers).  He also steps on Wooper and Quagsire’s toes a great deal; they have very different design aims, since Quagsire is clearly supposed to be cute, but they’re both big amphibious swamp-dwelling Water/Ground Pokémon that act as physical tanks, which Swampert is much better at doing than poor Quagsire.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s good that Swampert is effective; it just hammers home how much of a lottery Pokémon’s ‘game balance,’ if you really want to call it that, can be.  The differences between Feraligatr and Swampert appear to suggest that Game Freak knew, by this point, that a Water-type couldn’t be a top-notch physical attacker under the rules of Ruby and Sapphire without some kind of extra sparkle, and the combination of Quagsire’s excellent typing with Feraligatr’s high stats provide Swampert with just that.  Kind of a shame about his predecessors, though.  In general, my stance is that making a new Pokémon that totally supersedes an old one, when you could just make the old one good, is Bad Design.  They did eventually start being nice to the older Pokémon; Feraligatr’s a sweeper now, and Quagsire is potentially useful if oddly specific, though at the time of Swampert’s introduction, Quagsire could practically have evolved into Swampert.  In the end, I want to forgive Game Freak this time – in Feraligatr’s case, anyway – because I think Feraligatr is an unimaginative gob of mindless sputum hocked up by a dying frog, and that Swampert is a far superior design anyway.

Yes.  That entire paragraph was only in there so I could bash Feraligatr some more.

Let us move on.

 Swampert.  Artwork by Ken Sugimori.

So, like I was saying, Swampert is tough.  Unlike Feraligatr, who by this point had Swords Dance and was pretending to be fast enough to be a sweeper, Swampert’s buff of choice was Curse, which acts to turn him into a slow but powerful behemoth of a Pokémon capable of taking, and dishing out, physical attacks ‘til the Miltank come home.  To back up his terrifying Earthquake attack, Swampert picked up Rock Slide with the release of Leaf Green and Fire Red – not a powerful attack, but good for punishing Flying-types.  Surf and Ice Beam worked off his weaker special attack stat, but he was still better at them than Feraligatr, and didn’t actually have to rely on them, thanks to Earthquake.  If you like paralysis, Body Slam was an option, and he could turn his bulk and lack of weaknesses into formidable weapons with Counter or Mirror Coat.  Roar, finally, is a handy toy for a tough Pokémon to have; Swampert can often afford to wait for his opponent to attack first if it means throwing a spanner in the works by forcing a switch.  In short, Swampert was a highly effective physical tank from the moment of his release, and Diamond and Pearl only made things better – the introduction of physical Water attacks, obviously, being the main benefit.  With them came Hammer Arm, a strong and reliable Fighting attack, and eventually Ice Punch.  His support options also expanded to include the time-delayed sleep attack, Yawn, but for all practical purposes Yawn is mostly for forcing switches, since switching out a drowsy Pokémon will keep it from falling asleep, and Swampert can already force switches very effectively with Roar.  Finally, of course, Diamond and Pearl gave Swampert the oh-so-delightful Stealth Rock, so now he can damage whichever Pokémon comes in to replace one he Roars away.  And that… well, that is pretty much the end of Swampert’s development.  Black and White didn’t really change him at all.  His Dream World ability, Damp, prevents Pokémon from using Explosion or Selfdestruct – amusing, but ultimately very situational, especially since Black and White drastically reduced the effectiveness of both attacks.  Like most Water Pokémon, he can now burn opponents with Scald to weaken their physical attacks, but Scald is a special attack, and Swampert isn’t exactly bad at taking physical attacks anyway, so sticking with Waterfall is fine too.Just a Mudkip sittin' by a pond, bein' adorable, by Frogmastr1 (http://frogmastr1.deviantart.com/).

Although Black and White seem to have largely forgotten about him, Swampert is still a perfectly solid Pokémon with a small but useful support movepool and wonderful all-around endurance.  Be careful of Black and White’s sleep mechanics if you want to use him – switching a Pokémon out now resets the number of turns it will take to wake up, which means that Rest is no longer a reliable form of healing, and Swampert doesn’t have anything else.  Don’t expect him to take too many hits… and, as always, avoid Grass attacks like the plague.  If you can find it in your heart to love a monstrous swamp-thing, though, you could do far worse than Swampert.

Torchic, Combusken and Blaziken

Torchic, Combusken and Blaziken. Artwork by Ken Sugimori; my momma always said, Nintendo is as Nintendo does.Our next starter is a chicken?  Really, Game Freak?  A chicken?

It’s… well, not as odd as it sounds.  A good friend of mine grew up on a farm and had a number of pet chickens over the course of her childhood.  Not only are they actually quite good pets, each with distinct personalities as interesting as any dog or cat’s, the brighter ones can be taught tricks (my friend won prizes at her primary school for doing just that).  Chickens may not have the same kind of awesomeness potential as more conventional pet animals, but they’re really quite underrated.  So, there you have it.  Setting off from home accompanied only by a firebreathing chicken is… admittedly still not a very good idea, but not a markedly worse idea than leaving with a magic frog or a perfectly ordinary baby crocodile.  Torchic basically has generic Fire Pokémon characteristics, other than a note that she doesn’t like darkness and, to my knowledge, this really is a noticeable trait of real chickens; they have poor night vision, so they don’t like to move around when it’s dark.  That seems a little odd for a Fire Pokémon (especially one whose name is derived from “torch”), since Torchic can presumably just produce flames to light up a dark area, but I guess I’ll go with it.  She becomes more interesting when she evolves into Combusken, and then Blaziken: battle-chickens that pummel their foes with flaming punches and kicks, and can clear huge obstacles with their powerful legs.  This fits well enough; after all, how do flightless birds defend themselves?  They kick you, and some of the bigger ones, like cassowaries, can and do kill people this way; Blaziken wouldn’t be much bigger than a cassowary.  Their take on Fire abilities – why just kick things when you can kick things with fire? – is not especially brilliant but it’s also not really something any Fire Pokémon had ever done before (except for Magmar, to a limited extent) so it’s a good variation on the traits of the element.  In short, six foot tall flaming chicken that explosion-kicks you to death: sort of offbeat but in a good way I guess?

What’s more worrying is the fact that when these Pokémon were designed someone almost certainly had the unsavoury sport of cockfighting in mind – the practice of training chickens, specially bred to have aggressive temperaments, to attack each other with vicious metal spurs tied to their legs.  Given that, when people are making moralistic complaints about the Pokémon franchise, the accusation that it glorifies blood sports (and, in particular, sports that pit animals against each other in a ring or arena) is something of a chart-topper, the decision to make a literal cockfighter Pokémon seems not so much ill-advised as potentially suicidal.  Considering the drama that once surrounded Jynx, leading to her disappearance from the anime and subsequent recolouring with purple skin, it’s sort of bizarre that no-one seems to have picked up on this.  I don’t know; maybe animal cruelty just isn’t as touchy a subject as racism in the US?  Anyway… like any fan, I’m sceptical of the idea that Pokémon as a whole promotes blood sports; the franchise’s internal ethical framework is a lot more complex than that, but even I have to wonder about the message that a fighting chicken Pokémon sends.  It’s not even that it’s inherently a bad idea, because you could totally write flavour text or even whole episode plots for Combusken and Blaziken that tackle this thing head-on, and it would be really interesting to see how that turned out.  Just casually tossing it out there, though?  That, I have to question.  People aren’t wrong to be concerned about a game that, on the face of it, is all about forcing wild animals to beat each other’s brains out.  Pokémon isn’t supposed to be about violence or animal abuse; it’s supposed to be about partnership and discovery, but that isn’t necessarily obvious until you get into it, especially if you’re initially exposed to the games rather than to some other medium – so why design a Pokémon that draws attention to real-world instances of the former unless you’re deliberately trying to create a contrast that promotes the latter?

This is starting to make my head hurt.  Let’s talk about something less complicated. 

Two Torchic sheltering from the rain, by Princess-Phoenix (http://princess-phoenix.deviantart.com/).

Blaziken is the first of three Fire/Fighting starter Pokémon; she did it before it was cool.  Infernape and Emboar would subsequently come in and steal her schtick, but until then, she was a totally unique and quite dangerous mixed attacker.  Blaziken’s not really fast, and she’s not really tough but, boy, can she hit hard.  With Sky Uppercut, Earthquake, Rock Slide, and a downright terrifying physical attack stat, Blaziken could throw punches no-one wanted to be on the receiving end of.  However, she also came with an excellent special attack stat to back up her Fire techniques, so just having massive physical defence wouldn’t necessarily keep you safe from her (in particular Skarmory, one of the most reliable ways of saying “no” to physical attackers at the time, is helpless against Blaziken’s Fire Blast).  Fire, Rock, Ground and Fighting are four of the strongest offensive types in the game, and Blaziken knew how to use all of them.  Things just kept getting better when Fire Red and Leaf Green gave her access to Swords Dance, and she got Thunderpunch on Emerald just to keep the Water-types guessing.  She was still a little sluggish, of course, but it took a pretty big, mean Pokémon to absorb one of her attacks.  Then came Diamond and Pearl.  Diamond and Pearl gave Blaziken some cool new stuff – physical Fire attacks like Flare Blitz, Focus Blast in case she wanted a special Fighting attack, Brave Bird since her offensive movepool clearly wasn’t big enough already, Stone Edge if Rock Slide just wasn’t powerful enough, Agility if she didn’t feel like being slow anymore, and even Baton Pass if for some reason she felt someone else would make better use of her boosts than she could.  Unfortunately Diamond and Pearl also made Blaziken largely obsolete, since they introduced Infernape.  Infernape will get an entry of his own soon enough, so for now we’ll just say that he’s much faster than Blaziken, and doesn’t care that he’s even more fragile and not quite as strong because Fire Blast, Flare Blitz, Focus Blast and Close Combat (the last of which Blaziken doesn’t get) are so powerful that, realistically, if Infernape isn’t one-shotting his targets before going down in a blaze of glory he’s doing it wrong.  Infernape could also learn Nasty Plot, the special equivalent to Swords Dance.  Basically, he did Blaziken’s job, only better.

…so Blaziken retreated to the Dream World to plot her revenge…

 Blaziken finds a new outlet for her badassery in this elegant reinterpretation by Silver5 (http://silver5.deviantart.com/).  Go read his flavour text for this picture too (http://silver5.deviantart.com/art/Realistic-Blaziken-sketchies-200676116); it's very different from the orthodox feel of the Pokémon world but pretty fun.

Dream World Blaziken is an unholy terror who can rip entire teams to shreds singlehandedly if you’re not prepared with a sure-fire way to kill her immediately.  She really only has two qualities of any importance that she didn’t in the previous generation.  One is Hi Jump Kick, which gives her a much stronger replacement for Sky Uppercut to stand opposite Infernape’s Close Combat.  The other is her Dream World ability, Speed Boost.  A Pokémon with Speed Boost gets faster every turn (note that you can use Protect to get what amounts to a free turn in most cases).  Speed, realistically, was the only thing that ever truly held Blaziken back – and, unlike Agility, she gets it for free; she doesn’t have to spend a turn using it.  If you’re particularly skilful and/or lucky, you might even be able to do without spending a moveslot on Protect.  You can stop her; Jellicent and Slowbro are probably decent bets, Gyarados, Salamence or Dragonite could take a fair crack at it if she doesn’t have a Rock attack, and anything with a strong Aqua Jet should do the trick if she isn’t on a sun team (which, let’s face it, she probably is), but under sunlight it’s very difficult to do anything about her.  Smogon University declared Blaziken ‘uber’ (unsuitable for standard rules of engagement) as a result of this lunacy, and it’s rather difficult to argue with them on this one.  If you’re lucky enough to have a Dream World Blaziken, it’s probably best to refrain from using it unless your opponent has agreed to an ‘anything goes’ match, simply as a matter of courtesy.

Things were going so well with Blaziken.  Not a bizarre design, but an odd one; powerful, but not obscene, with a unique combat style.  Then along came Infernape to steal her schtick, and the developers went and overcompensated… Speed Boost is one of those abilities that you absolutely do not hand out on a whim, Game Freak!  I mean, yes, now she has something Infernape can’t take from her; on the other hand she is now, effectively, a faster, stronger and tougher version of Infernape, who is a pretty damn top-notch Pokémon himself!  I… just… I…

…please excuse me; I have to go and shoot myself in the head.

Treecko, Grovyle and Sceptile

Treecko.  Artwork by Ken Sugimori; beauty is in the eye of Nintendo.Sometimes it’s good to have trends within a Pokémon type.  They add a sense of identity, a feeling that these Pokémon are defined by more than just an arbitrarily assigned set of elemental powers.  Of course, half of the joy in having trends and stereotypes is in finding fun ways to break them, and so it is that the third Grass-type starter was something quite unusual indeed; a highly mobile, aggressive Grass Pokémon.  Treecko, Grovyle and Sceptile belong to the inherently badass jungle fighter archetype, which is appealing because Grass Pokémon don’t normally go for ‘badass’ – their power is typically of a very understated sort.  Ruby and Sapphire were the beginning of a shift towards more diversity in that respect, introducing Grass-types like Shiftry, Cacturne, Breloom… and these guys.  They’re geckos, of course, and as geckos their padded feet can grip onto just about any surface; they can climb walls and walk on ceilings, no problem, which means they can come at you from any direction they damn well please.  They’re also difficult to spot in their natural habitat, so they can come at you from any direction they damn well please without you knowing about it.  Unlike geckos, they’re also ridiculously agile; so they can come at you from any direction they damn well please without you knowing about it and then be back in the canopy again before you even know what you’re fighting.  The sharp-edged leaves that sprout from Grovyle’s wrists are the icing on the cake.  You can’t beat these Pokémon in the jungle, short of burning the jungle down (the major tragic weakness of the jungle fighter archetype, as revealed time and again throughout history).  In short, they’re very unusual among Grass-types for exploiting speed as their greatest asset; the only older Pokémon with comparable speed was Jumpluff, who’s a supporter through and through.  Accordingly, while Venusaur and Meganium channelled ‘wise forest sage’ and ‘gentle natural healer’ in their designs, Treecko, Grovyle and Sceptile take on far more militant roles as the guardians of the forest.  Treecko is said to nest deep in the heart of old forests and protect them from intruders, while Sceptile uses his powers to grow and nurture trees.  These are good things to know; ultimately, “this Pokémon is fast and good at stabbing things” is something we should be able to figure out from the way Sceptile handles in a fight, so telling us about their role in a forest ecosystem is far more valuable to developing a complete and detailed picture of what they’re really like.

 Grovyle.  Artwork by Ken Sugimori.

I wouldn’t call these Pokémon perfectly designed.  In particular, I’ve never been totally happy with the progression from Grovyle to Sceptile.  I remember thinking, when I first played Sapphire, that Grovyle might evolve into a Flying-type; it seemed like it would be the logical extension of the progression from Treecko, and part of me still thinks so (and he wouldn’t be the only Hoenn starter without a dual-type).  Maybe it’s just me, but although Sceptile is clearly stronger physically, I have trouble accepting that he’s as quick and accurate as Grovyle.  That enormous leafy tail seems it would just get in the way leaping from branch to branch.  Moreover, it gives the wrong impression of how Sceptile stands and moves; a tail like that is surely a counterweight for standing upright on the ground, not a high priority for a creature who spends most of his time in the canopy, relying as much on his hands for support as on his feet.  You could link this with Sceptile’s emerging role as a caretaker of the plants more than a combative defender, as symbolised by the seed pods growing on his back, but he’s still supposed to be a lightning-quick fighter mainly reliant on agility.  I think Grovyle’s art is a better expression of the concept than Sceptile’s, which is an unfortunate blemish on an otherwise pleasing and unconventional design.  From an artistic perspective, Sceptile definitely could have used a bit more emphasis on speed, and less on strength.  He’s still as composed, confident and dangerous as Treecko and Grovyle, but perhaps not as practical, or as directly intimidating.

 Sceptile.  Artwork by Ken Sugimori.

Sceptile is the second-fastest Grass Pokémon in the game, after the legendary Shaymin in Sky form.  He also has one of the higher special attack stats among Grass-types.  Everything comes at a price, though, and Sceptile is just about the most fragile of all the starter Pokémon.  Sceptile’s major selling point in Ruby and Sapphire, when he was first released, was his signature move, Leaf Blade, which at the time was just about the best Grass attack in the game (it wasn’t even particularly good; it’s just that the other Grass attacks weren’t much competition).  Still, it cemented Sceptile’s position as one of the better Grass-type attackers, with Crunch, Dragon Claw and (on Emerald) Thunderpunch for backup.  Clearly Game Freak had learned from their mistake with Feraligatr, since they made Sceptile best at using special attacks when his flavour suggests he should be a physical attacker – Leaf Blade, weirdly, was a special attack at the time (like all Grass attacks), and the most important thing was making him good at using his own signature move.  Of course, what happened next was that Diamond and Pearl started classifying attacks individually instead of by type and suddenly all of Sceptile’s best moves were physical attacks.  You just can’t win with these people.  Diamond and Pearl did also give him Dragon Pulse and Focus Blast (something many Grass-types would kill for – a powerful, if unreliable, way of dealing with Steel-types), as well as, finally, better Grass attacks, like Grass Knot, Energy Ball and Leaf Storm, and that’s pretty much where Sceptile is today; he doesn’t have enough attacks to score many super-effective hits, but between Dragon Pulse and Focus Blast he can manage neutral damage against most anything, and those Leaf Storms hurt.  Sceptile does get Swords Dance, too, so you can make a physical attacker of him, between his decent attack stat, his excellent speed, and his wider physical movepool (which has always included Earthquake, and gained X-Scissor and Rock Slide in Diamond and Pearl and Acrobatics in Black and White).  Leaf Blade got a damage buff too in Diamond and Pearl, probably to compensate Sceptile for switching it to physical.

 Grovyle being awesome, by AbusoRugia (http://abusorugia.deviantart.com/), whose fanart is extensive and beautiful.

Of course, just because you can use Sceptile as an attacker doesn’t mean you have to.  Sceptile lacks the huge support movepool of a typical Grass-type, but he does get Leech Seed, which means the old standby of Leech Seed/Substitute is open to him.  The way this works is that you slap a Leech Seed on something with a lot of hit points and sacrifice your health to create Substitutes that block attacks while the seed keeps you healthy and steadily weakens your opponent, leading to slow and painful death.  This is tricky to pull off, but – somewhat counterintuitively – speed actually helps much more than toughness, because being able to move before your opponent is crucial to staying in control of the situation if something unexpected happens, so Sceptile is extremely good at it (not as good as Whimsicott, thanks to her lovely ability, but still good).  Pretty sure the only other thing left to talk about it abilities… Sceptile is one of the few starters who’s probably better off with the generic starter ability, Overgrow, than with his Dream World ability, Unburden.  Unburden gives Sceptile a free speed boost when he loses or consumes an item he’s holding and, well, honestly speed is the least of Sceptile’s worries.  I’m sure you can turn Unburden to your advantage with a bit of thought because in general it’s quite a useful ability in combination with berries and the like, but most of the time you’ll likely be better off with Overgrow; the devastating power of Sceptile’s Leaf Storm is possibly his biggest selling point, so anything that can potentially add to that is probably a good idea.

I can’t help but feel that what should have happened with Sceptile is for Game Freak to swap around his attack and special attack stats with the advent of Diamond and Pearl.  Tinkering with a Pokémon’s stats like that is admittedly very unorthodox; apart from the splitting of special into special attack and special defence in Gold and Silver, Game Freak have never done anything even remotely similar.  Still, the reason for Sceptile’s current stat distribution is Leaf Blade’s former status as a special attack – surely it makes sense that when practically his entire offensive movepool, including his signature move, flipped to physical, he should have flipped with it?  Personally I place a great deal of value on Pokémon being good at the things that they’re good at.  Still, Sceptile’s a solid Pokémon, and even if I think Treecko and Grovyle did a much better job of conveying the point of the design, Sceptile’s regal bearing makes him a decent “lord of the forest.”