Outgrowing Pokémon (Charming & Open)

Recently, friend of the blog Ian Shepard decided to host a blogging event he calls Charming & Open. The event shares its name with a Dungeon Worlds player action wherein a bard can ask for an honest answer to any question by speaking candidly. There’s a catch though: the bard player must reciprocate, and answer any question they’re asked honestly in return. That’s the basis for Ian’s event: you ask him a question, and he asks you a question in return. Then the two of you shuffle off to write your respective blog posts detailing the answers to said questions.

I don’t normally participate in this sort of thing because it isn’t really my scene, but I like Ian. He’s someone who’s blogging abilities I’ve looked up to, and been a little jealous of over the years I’ve known him. There’s a very personal quality to the way he writes. It almost feels like you’re sitting in a room listening to him speak while reading his posts. I think that comes down to how Ian tends to share personal anecdotes in several of his posts, which he seamlessly ties back into his overarching point. This really helps to convey exactly where he’s coming from, and gives his work a strong sense of personal identity.

That said, I decided to ask Ian if his gaming comfort zone has expanded over the past decade, and which game (or games) were responsible for that shift. He and I both grew up playing Nintendo games almost exclusively. This exposed us to a very narrow slice of what’s actually available in the wider landscape of video games. Personally, I know that my horizons have widened thanks to platforms like Steam, and the proliferation of indie games on mainstream gaming consoles. Based on past conversations, I assumed Ian had experienced something similar, so I decided to use Charming & Open as an opportunity to solicit that information from him.

In return, Ian decided to flip my question around, and ask me the inverse:

Is there a genre/style of game that you used to really enjoy that has stopped working for you, and what if anything do you think it would take for it to capture your attention again?

When I first read that question, I thought it’d be a fairly easy one to answer. There were a couple different potential responses which immediately sprang to mind. The one that seemed the most promising was talking about how I’ve walked back the number of no-name indie titles I’ve played in the past few years. As I got to writing though, it became increasingly clear that there was a much better answer to Ian’s question: Pokémon.

Before I get into the specifics of how Pokémon has stopped working for me, I think it’s important to provide a bit of background information. Until about a decade ago, I would have considered Pokémon to be among my favourite game series. I learned to read thanks to Pokémon. A lot of my early artwork, and even my artistic style now, was inspired by Pokémon. I also spent far too much time playing Pokémon, and was even one of those poor suckers who would buy the third version of each set of games. It might sound a bit ridiculous to say, but these games have had a profound influence on my life, especially the creative side of it.

However, I haven’t enjoyed playing Pokémon as much as I’ve gotten older. I’ll still revisit the older Gameboy Advance titles for a quick shot of nostalgia, and I like seeing the new character designs, but the actual process of playing the games is something I find fairly tedious to do now. There’s a couple of different reasons for that, but I think the most prevalent is how I’ve soured on Pokémon’s particular implementation of turn-based combat.

For the uninitiated, turn-based combat is exactly what the name implies: it’s combat where you, and your opponent, take turns making actions. It’s like how most board, and card games are played. It’s a style of play that has existed within video games for almost as long as video games themselves have existed.

Unfortunately, not all turn-based games are created equally, and I’d rank Pokémon among the worst. This is really odd because the mechanics of Pokémon actually provide a lot of room for depth. There’s a bunch of different elemental types, and each Pokémon can have up to 2 of those. This determines which types it is effective against, and which it is weak to. As such, the key to winning at Pokémon is to create a team that can handle a wide array of situations, where you can pivot your different Pokémon around in battle.

However, while Pokémon’s system provides a lot of room for depth, the games rarely utilize said depth. Many of the in-game opponents that you’ll fight will not switch their Pokémon, nor will they utilize any kind of interesting strategy. This means that the overwhelming majority of the combat encounters in Pokémon pit you against a nameless, faceless punching bag. This sort of opponent is ok while players are becoming acquainted with a game’s mechanics, but they’re quite literally all Pokémon has to offer. As such, all Pokémon games feature a completely flat difficulty curve, and players are rarely, if ever, challenged on their understanding of the game’s underlying mechanics outside of a handful of boss fights.

There was certainly a time when I enjoyed this sort of frictionless experience, but I no longer do. When I’m playing something now I tend to enjoy it more when the game in question challenges me to really understand all of its underlying systems. Part of the reason I will pour so much time into fighting games is because I always feel like there is something new to learn, or improve at. The more I’m willing to put into those games, the more I get out of them. That simply isn’t the kind of experience that Pokémon is offering. As such, I find engaging with it, specifically with Pokémons turn-based combat, very tedious.

Now, having said all of that, I think it’d be remiss of me to not mention a little game that I played last year called Cassette Beasts. It’s a game that does a lot of the same things as Pokémon, especially down to its turn-based combat. However, there is one key difference, and I think that difference sits at the heart of why I enjoyed Cassette Beasts more than any Pokémon game I’ve played in the past several years: the entirety of Cassette Beasts is double battles.

If the name wasn’t already a dead giveaway, double battles are when the player sends out 2 of their critters to fight against 2 of the opponent’s critters. This adds a surprising amount of depth to all facets of the game. For example, some attacking moves have unique properties in double battles such as being able to hit both of your opponents simultaneously. However, these moves tend to be weaker than attacks which target a specific Pokémon. That alone provides an interesting strategic decision for players to consider: do you want a stronger attack, or the ability to spread damage equally to both of your opponent’s Pokémon? This is a stark contrast to single battles where you can repeatedly spam your strongest moves with reckless abandon.

Double battles don’t just have more interesting decisions when it comes to building your team: they’re also more interesting to play. You always have the option to have both of your team members gang up on one of your opponent’s critters, and vice versa. This makes choosing your offensive opportunities more important, while also making defensive pivoting a lot more punishable. You wouldn’t want to switch one of your teammates into 2 back to back attacks after all. 

While double battles are present in Pokémon, they’re severely underutilized. In a given game you might participate in a dozen of them compared to the literal hundreds of 1 on 1 battles. This is a shame because I think double battles are ultimately a lot more interesting to play. Tate and Liza, from the generation 3 games, are one of the few boss fights in the entire franchise that are a double battle, and this makes the fight incredibly challenging, and super memorable. Sadly, double battles of this caliber are a rarity.

And yes – before anyone asks, I have played the Pokémon titles on the Gamecube. Both Pokémon Colosseum, and Gales of Darkness are built around double battles, and they are way better games for it. There are far fewer combat encounters, but the ones that are present attempt to meaningfully challenge the player. This is especially true with the boss fights, which each feature some kind of unique strategy that can be extremely oppressive for unprepared players. This does make these games feel somewhat punitive, but it also pushes the player to carefully consider their strategy. And that’s a far cry from anything that the mainline Pokémon games have ever asked of their players.

While this has been a fun thought experiment, I’m going to come clean with you all: I don’t expect that Pokémon will ever change. And I don’t really know that I need it to. As I said, 2 spin-off titles already exist that delivered the kind of experience I’m after. Plus, the talented folks over at Bytten Studio gave us Cassette Beasts last year, so there are definitely indie developers out there who are willing to continue carrying that particular torch.

Regardless, I hope you found my response to your question satisfactory, Ian. 

As for everyone else: thank you, and I’ll see you in the next one.