Despite being a huge fan of Pokemon as a kid, I did not watch much of the Pokemon TV show. I watched all of Diamond and Pearl while it was airing, but that was it. I didn’t watch the original series, not Advanced Generation, and basically I fell off the entire franchise just a few episodes into Best Wishes. However, before that point, while I wasn’t keeping up with the TV show, I was absolutely keeping up with the movies. I saw every Pokemon movie up through Arceus and the Jewel of Life, and that was how I stayed up to date on what the current Pokemon status quo was. I don’t remember every detail from all those movies- it’s a lot of movies, after all- but I have fond memories of all of them. They were consistently my favorite part of Pokemon, moreso than the TV show, even moreso than the games. The Pokemon movies were Pokemon to me, and my memories of them are the standard upon which I judge the entire franchise.

But there’s no telling what will happen to those memories as I'm re-watching them. It’s been over a decade, after all, and I first watched them as a kid without much discerning taste. The Pokemon movies define my memories of the franchise, but are they gonna hold up upon revisitation? Will the epic tales they tell stand the test of time and prove themselves as enduring, worthwhile additions to this megolithic franchise? Or will they reveal themselves as little more than cheap cash grabs, pandering to the lowest common denominator in order to score a few more fistfuls of dollars from eager tykes and their parents’ open wallets? And am I even gonna be able to see them with fresh eyes when my nostalgia goggles are so tight around my experiences with them? There’s only one way to find out: re-watch them in tandem with watching the show and discover what they leave me with now that I'm 22 with a far more discerning critical eye. It’s gonna be a weird, wild experience, but I’ve never backed down from a challenge before, and I don’t intend to start now. So let’s dive right into the first Pokemon movie, conveniently titled Pokemon: The First Movie, to see where this grand tradition started, and see if it still holds up after all this time.

Mewtwo Strikes Back is one of those movies that pretty much everyone remembers watching as a kid. I won’t spoil anything major in case some of you reading it haven’t seen it yet, but it tells the tale of Mewtwo, the first ever Pokemon clone. He was cloned from the DNA of the legendary first Pokemon Mew, created as a lab experiment by Team Rocket to be the strongest Pokemon ever, capable of conquering anyone and anything with his psychic powers. But Team Rocket made an incalculable mistake in their quest to create the strongest Pokemon: they actually succeeded. Mewtwo is an unbeatable powerhouse who no one can control, and he’s none too happy at finding out that the purpose of his creation was to be a slave to humanity. He goes full Frankenstein’s Monster and rebels against his creators, setting off on his own with a heart full of rage and a burning desire to forge a new meaning for his existence, even if it means crushing the entire world under his unstoppable heel. Meanwhile, Ash and company are enjoying their adventures as always when an unexpected invitation embroils them in Mewtwo’s cataclysmic plans. Can they stop the mad Pokemon from destroying the world, or have the scars of his creation sunk in too deep to accept anything less than Armageddon?

Just by that description, I think you can get a sense of what made this movie leave such a lasting impact on the generation of kids who first experienced it. Pokemon has gone big in the past, but this is the first time the scope of its narrative has truly become massive. Mewtwo’s tale isn’t just another exciting romp or just another badass showdown; it’s a full-on epic tragedy, steeped in dark portent and an undercurrent of mythic awe that makes you feel like you’re watching a legend come to life before your eyes. The stage feels grander, the emotions rawer, the ultimate meaning far more ancient and everlasting. Mewtwo himself is a far more mature character than you might expect, driven to evil deeds not out of pettiness or inherent cruelty, but because of deep existential trauma that’s crippled his ability to grow as a sentient being. His entire purpose for existing in the first place was to be a tool for other’s to wield; he was born without meaning, and he projects that self-hatred onto the world around him as he rages against what he sees as the unchangeable evil of humans and Pokemon. In a lot of ways, I think Mewtwo Strikes Back was many of our first introductions to the idea that fiction would ask difficult questions of us. It could present us with villains who had to be stopped but demanded out sympathy all the same. It could present us with philosophical conundrums on the meaning of life, how we’re born versus who we choose to be. Sure, it’s not exactly Aristotle, but the epic scope and depth of the film’s ideas in contrast with its kid-friendly presentation make for the rare film that can ask make six-year-olds to step out of their comfort zones and face grander, less comfortable ideas than they might be used to.

Of course, if you remember anything from this film as an adult today, it’s sure to be the opening and ending sequences. The film’s middle stretch gets a little draggy as it puts all the pieces in place for the final showdown; there’s a lot of people and Pokemon involved, and even Team Rocket gets a b-story as they sneak around Mewtwo’s fortress to give the audience a tour of the inner machinery driving his plan. Also, this franchise has not yet lost its unfortunate affinity for cheesy 90s pop ballads in place of emotional heft. It still all looks very nice, as OLM flexes their movie budget to bring the Pokemon world to life like never before. The character animation on humans and Pokemon alike is fluid and satisfying, with plenty of nuanced little details that speak to their personalities. There’s an obvious effort to animate everyone in frame, not just the most important characters, background characters react to events in the foreground, Pokemon scuffle and play along the sidelines, and it goes a long way to selling the reality of this world. The cinematography gets an upgrade as well, with plenty of sweeping landscape shots that show off the well-realized background art and let you sink into the majesty of the environments. And good god, is it great seeing the Pokemon battles realized with the full potential of animation. The action is fast and furious, everyone’s pulling out a dozen different moves, and the impact of every blow rings across the screen. This is the first time the Pokemon fights have felt as organic and explosive as they deserve to, like we’re watching two sentient beings try to triumph over each other instead of just video game characters exchanging turn-based blows. It’s not exactly Ghibli, but it’s polished to a damn fine mirror shine all the same.

But that opening and ending. Sweet buttery Christ, that opening and ending. There’s a reason those two sequences have lingered in our collective cultural consciousness for upwards of two decades now; they are truly jaw-dropping. The prologue details Mewtwo’s creation, subjugation and liberation with the gravitas befitting a Shakesperian anti-hero; it pushes the franchise’s usual light-hearted good nature to the side in favor of pure mythic weight. And watching the evolution of Mewtwo’s consciousness as he becomes consumed by the darkness of his situation makes for one of the most gripping, awe-inspiring supervillain origin stories ever made. And a lot of credit needs to go to Mewtwo’s voice actor for pulling that off, because he sells the fuck out of this character’s tragic rage (honestly, the entire dub cast is in top form here). By the time he’s left his captors behind and sworn revenge on the world that’s wronged him, you’re left utterly spellbound; you just witnessed the birth of a vengeful god in a franchise about making cute plush critters battle each other. And without spoiling the ending, yeah, we all make fun of how cheesy and contrived that resolution is, but as it’s just letting that last battle play out, the weight and exhaustion and pain growing and growing and Pikachu taking a stand and Ash charging into the fray and the horrible wordless silence that settles in right before everything is set right again… Fuck, man. I’m not even ashamed to admit it still made me cry over a decade later. That’s the mark of something truly special; even though it’s a kid’s movie, it (mostly) lets its darkness be honest, uncompromising, and true.

So yeah, as amazed as I am to say it, Pokemon: The First Movie still holds up. It’s not perfect, and it does drag in the places between when it gets to really flex its more epic ideas, but your childhood self wasn’t wrong to find as much value in it as you did. It’s a shockingly resonant piece of epic fiction that pushes Pokemon to the next level and grounds it in something darker, grander, and more awe-inspiring than it’s even been capable of before. It’s a kid’s film through and through, but it’s the most colossal kid’s film I can possibly imagine that still appeals to such young sensibilities. Time and time again, Pokemon has proven itself to be more than just a money-printing machine; there’s a reason we keep coming back to these characters and their stories so many years later. And Mewtwo Strikes Back, while flawed, is proof that this franchise is capable of some truly incredible things.