Favorites by the Generations: A Pokémon Celebration

It’s Pokémon Day today, and what better way to celebrate the occasion than reviewing the latest games to address the good and bad of what may well be the culmination of every lesson Pokémon has learned since it dared to step into the era of modern 3D games?

…Is what I would like to say, but in light of the game’s… circumstances, I’ve been holding off until the game’s first big corrective patch comes along. As such a patch will either be imminent or implemented by the time this blog goes up, you can expect such a review to go up next week. Don’t worry—I’ll be sure to have interesting things to say.

In the meantime, though, how about we use this day of celebration to, well… celebrate! As we continue through the 9th generation of Pokémon games and merchandise, I felt like sharing my thoughts on the ones that have come to be my favorites, generation by generation.

Here’s how this list is going to work: Going in order of release, I’ll be naming my favorite evolutionary line of each generation. If a Pokémon has pre/evolutions and/or regional variants that span multiple generations, that line will count for the generation which the first Pokémon in the line was introduced (Example: Magby was introduced in Gen 2 and Magmortar in Gen 4, but as Magmar was introduced in Gen 1, the entire family will count for that generation). This list will also not discriminate against starters or legendary Pokémon; so long as it’s an actual Pokémon, it will be accounted for. Lastly, in light of there being so many Pokémon at this point, I’ll also have a small list of honorable mentions for this generation at the bottom of each section, just to be gracious.

Now, on with the list!

(NOTE: All images, artwork, and other official assets used in this blog belong to TPCI, Game Freak, Genius Sonority, and any other respective creators. Full credit to the official Pokémon website, Serebii, Bulbapedia, and any other cited sources.)

Generation 1: The Eevee Line

Pokémon’s premier jack of all trades! *(Wallpaper found on Wallpaper Flare, 99.9% sure it was originally from the Pokémon XD: Gale of Darkness official website)*

Starting things off, we’ve got a (technical) Starter Pokémon. MY Starter Pokémon, to be precise!

Eevee’s gimmick of having numerous evolutions doesn’t just make it phenomenally unique and a mascot for one of the series’ staple concepts—it also gives players plenty of opportunity to slot it into their teams. Need a strong water type? Vaporeon’s got you covered. A swift special attack? Take your pick of Espeon or Jolteon. Just in the market for something adorable? No wrong choice here, I’m afraid!

I could very easily flex my personal bias here as someone who had Eevee as their starter in their first ever traditional-structure Pokémon game (that game being Pokémon XD: Gale of Darkness) but let the endless stream of Eevee toys, accessories, and other bobbles, as well as the legions upon legions of Eevee-loving folk out there, speak for themselves: this is one very iconic—and very lovable—Pokémon.

And if you need to know my favorite Eeveelution… at the moment, it’s probably Flareon. Did you know that it’s apparently the most huggable Pokémon?

Honorable mentions for this generation include: the Squirtle line, the Pidgey line, the Doduo line, the Mankey line, and Articuno

Generation 2: The Teddiursa Line

…Okay, so this one does require a little bit of bias-flexing.

Whereas Eevee was my first starter, Teddiursa was effectively my first catch, as it is the first Pokémon the player can (and must) snag. Having first gotten familiar with the Pokémon from my time watching those old Pichu Bros. episodes, I warmed up to it pretty quickly and enjoyed using it for as long as long-term teambuilding might allow.

However, between its limited availability elsewhere and its nature as a generally underwhelming Pokémon, having little to its resume but a great attack stat, I ended up passing over Teddiursa and its evolution, Ursaring, quite frequently, as much as I didn’t want to. If anyone deserved a new lease on life with a regional form or even a natural evolution, it was this little dude right here.

Enter Pokémon Legends: Arceus and its small but wonderful repertoire of new forms and evolutions.

When I first laid eyes on Ursaluna, I couldn’t have been more pleased. At long last, Teddiursa and Ursaring got the third-stage evolution they deserved, complete with powerhouse stats, a dangerous type combo, and that loveable “giant sleepy bear” aura. It was like seeing the long-awaited sequel to a short-lived series—the kind that wasn’t an insult to the original, at least.

While it was quite a neck-and-neck race with some of the others you’ll see listed among the honorable mentions for this generation, I feel like the Ursas are my favorite on account of them representing one of the most fun parts of Pokémon: watching old favorites who may have not shone a lot before finally get a type, ability, form, or evolution that gives them a new lease on life. …That and them being all-around adorable, of course.

Honorable mentions for this generation include the Cyndaquil line, the Natu line, the Togepi line, the Dunsparce line, the Mareep line, and Lugia.

Generation 3: The Mudkip Line

If you asked me which of the 1000+ Pokémon were my favorite from a design perspective, the hypothetical trophy would probably go to Swampert.

While I certainly adore the little fish-puppy-thing* that is Mudkip, and I certainly understand why it took the internet by storm and became an icon paraded around in the memes of bygone ages, it’s the final form of the evolutionary line that’s charmed me the most.

On its own, Swampert is this cool combination of toughness and docility. While it feels like most starters go the way of humanoid traits in order to flesh out and ultimate-ify its design, Swampert finds a way to keep its monstrousness intact. At the same time, it’s not sacrificing anything that made its base form of Mudkip appealing, which is, in my opinion, another common pitfall that happens with starters, even the ones I really love.

Swampert is even a key part of my competitive Pokémon journey, being the inspiration for many a whacky rain team during my time as a fresh face to the scene thanks to its Mega Evolution, which managed to live up to the awesomeness of the original with both a cool new design that lived up to the design principles listed above and the kind of raw, incredible power expected from a good Mega.

Maybe it’s just old-fashioned nostalgia, but Swampert and its kin just seem to be able to do it all.

(*Yes, I know Mudkip is supposed to be based off of axolotls. I’m just trying to be funny. That being said, I’m sure even avid axolotl fans would call “fish-puppy-thing” an apt enough description for them.)

Honorable mentions for this generation include the Torchic line, the Poochyena line, the Ralts line, the Aron line, the Meditite line, the Spheal line, and the Lati twins.

Generation 4: The Starly Line

There’s (Sin)no(h) doubt that this is one of Pokémon’s best birds.

The Sinnoh Region, as well as the Hisui Region by extension, are my favorite region(s) in Pokémon. I love the chilly atmosphere, the mellow vibes, the feeling of adventuring across this mountainous, occasionally jagged landscape, the variety of myths and mysteries associated with the land, and all the nostalgia of having done it surrounded by friends while still in the prime of childhood.

To me, Starly is the emissary of all that nostalgic, Sinnoh-y goodness packed in feathered form. The mere sight of it causes my ears to ring with old songs and soundbites and my eyes to see things through a rose-tinted, slightly more pixilated lens.

While it certainly helps that I do love its design and am a natural bird-lover by default, I don’t really have any grandiose justifications or essay-esque discussions about the history or design of a Pokémon. It’s just a Pokémon that means an incredible amount to me, perhaps more than any other Pokémon out there.

Honorable mentions for this generation include the Turtwig line, the Piplup line, Chatot, the Buizel line, the Gible line, the Shieldon line*, Giratina, Manaphy, Shaymin, and Arceus

(*So, this may be the one chance I get to shoehorn this completely random Pokémon fact into anything I ever produce, but during the “Pikachusidents Day” marathon that happened on Cartoon Network back in 2009, there were commercial bumpers that shared random, completely fabricated facts about presidents involving their Pokémon partners. One of these facts, which has been living rent-free in my head for over 14 years, was that Ronald Reagan was bestowed a Shieldon for protection following John Hinckley Jr.’s failed attempt to assassinate him. It’s bizarre, potentially a little insensitive, and by far one of my favorite pieces of Pokémon trivia of all time.)

Generation 5: The Deino Line

The never-ending saga of Sean Preiss and his long-coveted Deino is one fraught to the brim with sorrow, denial, and glimmers of hope brought down by hurricanes of heartbreak.

From the first moment I first looked upon the murderous little muppet, I was utterly awestruck. I had always been enamored with the hydras from fantasy and myth, and seeing that they finally made a Pokémon inspired by one—a pseudo-legendary, no less—filled me with an overwhelming need to catch and use one on my team.

But alas, there were problems.

The immense level requirements for Deino’s evolutions to Zweilous at level 50 and Zweilous to Hydreigon at level 64 never frightened me. If anything, the challenge made it all the more appealing, and I kind of appreciated how the level requirement for certain Unova Pokémon evolutions required you to commit to and invest time and attention to it for longer periods of time in order for it to achieve its fullest potential; after all, it’s not as fun (to me) when you get a Pokémon that’s either already evolved or within a few levels from doing so, not when evolution is such a key part of the game. My problem ended up not being so much with Deino as it did with the level curves of the games it appeared in, as well as the lateness of its appearances.

Pretty much every game since its debut had one or both of two problems: either the game was effectively finished before you’d be able to hit the requirements to evolve a Deino to a Hydreigon, and/or you could only find it in the wild as one of its evolved forms, effectively nullifying part of what made the line appeal to me personally.

After a decade of missing the perfect storm of circumstances, my luck finally turned around with the release of Scarlet and Violet. A Hydreigon-friendly level curve and the opportunity to get a Deino with plenty of time for it to be used as a Deino were finally within reach… that is, if you picked up Pokémon Scarlet.

Indeed, my luck turned a whole 360 degrees as being a Violet player denied me the chance at any Deino outright. By the time anyone thought to lend a hand with a raid den or a trade, I was already set on raising a Dreepy and a Pawniard.

I should probably know better by know, but even after everything that’s happened, I’ll never stop hoping for the chance to finally catch and use the little ankle-biter in the way I hope to. Just you watch, hypothetical confused onlookers and naysayers!

Honorable mentions for this generation include the Pawniard line, the Gothita line, the Solosis line, the Zorua line, the Joltik line, the Mienfoo line, and Audino

Generation 6: The Chespin Line

I thought I’d have a better pun ready for the occasion, but I Chesnaught!

When you’re a starter Pokémon whose competition is a fire-breathing fennec fox and a bubble-frog-turned-ninja, being a Chespin often means watching as the spotlight dances around you. Opinions on this particular Pokémon generally range from unimpressed shrugs to blatant revulsion, especially in reaction to Quilladin, which suffers from the middle-stage starter pitfalls of being an awkward, bigger version of its previous form, give or take a few extra heaps of dopiness. Then there’s Chesnaught, who, in addition to having minimal resemblance to its previous forms, doesn’t really have a whole lot going on in the design department. No slick tricks (except for that hand-shield morph move, but they culled the animation for that in Scarlet and Violet, apparently) or fancy motifs here—just a big, ambiguously-mammalian creature with a big shell and some big spikes.

All that probably makes him sound like the anti-Swampert, yet here I am putting him on a parallel pedestal. What’s the deal, Sean?

…I just really like them.

Kalos has a bunch of other really cool designs that I could have my pick of—haunted swords, friendly goo dragons, flowery nymphs, key-ring goblins, barnacle Megazords, etc.—but when it comes to figuring out my favorite, Chesnaught somehow wins the race.

I suppose it’s like X and Y themselves in that regard. I know those games don’t have the best story or difficulty curve—two aspects of video games that you will frequently see me get very passionate about—yet it’s one of the games I find myself going back and replaying the most.

Neither X and Y nor Chesnaught are masterpieces, but they are very… homy, and sometimes, it’s nice to just enjoy things without worrying about having a scientific explanation ready to defend their existence…just as long as your excuses aren’t too lofty, I suppose.

Honorable mentions for this generation include the Fletchling line, the Honedge line, the Flabébé line, the Goomy line, the Bergmite line, Xerneas, and Diancie.

Generation 7: The Cosmog Line

You wouldn’t believe it, but this little guy’s gonna grow up to be quite the star!

Cosmog stands out to me as a really special Pokémon, both for its unique traits as one of a select few legendary Pokémon who are able to evolve (and into the box legendaries, no less!) but also for the narrative role they play in the Alola games.

While the story could have had less of a stranglehold on the pace of player exploration, Sun and Moon had a pretty good narrative thanks to its interesting cast of characters and effective plot beats, the majority of which focused on the story of a little Cosmog named Nebby. Rescued by a girl named Lillie from researchers who planned to exploit its space-bending powers, the story takes a lot of time focusing on the two of them together. Loosely accompanying the player on their travels across the islands of Alola, Lillie slowly begins to come out of her shell thanks to their adventures, but it’s not until Nebby’s life is on the line that she finally has the breakthrough moment she needed. While the ordeal renders Nebby incapacitated as it is transformed into a Cosmog, Lillie and the player’s commitment to setting things right and making amends with her out-of-line mother are the catalyst that allow it to achieve its full strength as Solgaleo/Lunala.

This would mark the first time the mascot legendary has a proper personal connection to the player—something that the plot of Scarlet and Violet repeats to great effect as well. Rather than just another deity showing up at the eleventh hour to be a tool for the villain and/or reward for saving the world, this massive beast with unrivaled power is just a friend you made along the way, and the next time you see a Cosmog or any of their evolutionary relatives, your adventures with Nebby will likely come to mind.

Honorable mentions for this generation include the Rowlet line, the Litten line, the Popplio line, the Pikipek line, the Rockruff line, and the Jangmo-o line.

Generation 8: The Scorbunny Line

Loving this little dude is hardly hare-esy!

The majority of my love for Gen 8 comes from Legends: Arceus and the Hisui Region, but as those have a strong focus on highlighting and adding to pre-existing Pokémon, and in light of my rule about categorizing Pokémon by the debut generation of the earliest form/evolutionary relative, that means I get a chance to be positive about the Galar side of things.

So, uh… Scorbunny. It’s… really cool we got a Fire-Type rabbit starter. And, uh… Raboot’s really cute with its fur resembling a hoodie all the way down to the little tufts that double as pockets. And I’m not really a big fan of soccer, but I think Cinderace does a pretty good job embodying the concept. I also really liked using them in competitive, even getting some momentum in Little Cup formats with a Libero Scorbunny set.

…

…Okay, so I have even less to say about Galar than even I thought.

It’s not really anything against Galar and its Pokémon. In fact, I think Pokémon Sword and Shield introduced a rather solid lineup of Pokémon. It’s just… in an awkward spot for me, I guess. It’s too new for feelings of nostalgia but not new enough to keep the shiny toy syndrome going. All I can really say about it is that it’s all-around solid. Just like Scorbunny. Very cool.

Honorable mentions for this generation include the Rookidee line, the Yamper line, Indeedee, the Kubfu line, the Hatenna line, the Impidimp line, and Calyrex.

Generation 9: The Pawmi Line

Oh, alright! I’ll hit paws on all the bad puns.

And at last, we arrive at the latest wave of new additions. As a whole, I would describe the Pokémon of Paldea as “funky,” if not “auxiliary.” It feels like a whole generation full of those weird Pokémon that are meant to fill out a dex more than stand out on their own. But that goofiness ends up really working for me. I’ll try to get a little more into those feelings when I post my review of Scarlet and Violet the week after this one goes up.

But my favorite of them all embodies the best and worst aspects of playing a Pokémon game blind for the first time, while being the sweetest-looking little scrunkly this side of the cosmos.

When I first saw Pawmi in the initial promotional material for the game, my feelings could not have been more lukewarm. By this point, I was well over the concept of Pika-clones or electric rodents or whatever you want to call them, and I expected Pawmi to be much the same.

But then I finally got my hands on the game, and before long, I had a little Pawmi of my own named Despereaux. While I enjoyed having a handy electric type, it was the (limited) personality displayed with the game’s Let’s Go feature that really endeared me to it. Watching little Dessy be happy made me happy, but it was when I tried to take a selfie with him and he just started running in a circle before plopping over and falling asleep that I wanted to have the little dude with me for the whole adventure.

While Pawmo was kinda just ok as far as middle-stage evolutions go, Pawmot’s cool Electric/Fighting typing (which the ‘Mo also has, granted) and unique utility, as well as its sweet little face and adorable little everything else, shot my opinion of the line so high that I think it may well be one of my favorite Pokémon of all time, battling fiercely with nostalgia heavyweight Staraptor for the honor. Little big Despereaux could quite literally do no wrong.

But as I said, this little Pokémon embodies the worst part of blind playthroughs, for alas… I chose Quaxly as my starter. With Quaquaval’s own Fighting Type leading to unfavorable type overlap and a glaring weakness to fairy types across my team, I had to make the ultimate sacrifice and bench Despereaux.

As sad as I was that my time with Pawmot was cut short, I’m glad I had the opportunity to love it at all, which is a step up from what I can say about some Pokémon that are even on this list (*COUGH*Deino*COUGH*). Pawmot reminded me of how important just giving a Pokémon a shot on your team can be, as it can help you realize that an option you may have been content to turn a blind eye to might be your next favorite in the making.

Honorable mentions for this generation for include… well, tune in next week to find out!