Since the Pokémon series made its transition to the Nintendo Switch, a specific concern has consistently bothered me across almost every contemporary Pokémon title. This feeling has only intensified after dedicating countless hours to gameplay. Given that these games feature expansive open worlds, charming polygonal characters, and beautiful musical scores, it remains puzzling why nearly every Pokémon still utilizes a cry that sounds akin to a dial-up internet connection.
As someone who played Pokémon Red and Blue upon their initial release, I am well aware that the origin of these sounds dates back directly to those original Game Boy titles, which were powered by an 8-bit Sharp SM83 processor. Back then, squeezing the entire game onto a single 512KB cartridge was a monumental technical achievement. To conserve valuable space, the vocalizations (or “cries,” as they are more commonly known) for each of the original 151 Pokémon were derived from just 38 fundamental cries. These base sounds then had their pitch or duration modified to generate a wider array of unique auditory effects.
This tradition of low-fidelity cries naturally persisted throughout Pokémon’s tenure on the Game Boy, Game Boy Advance, and subsequently the Nintendo DS and 3DS. Even as later titles introduced higher-resolution graphics, the incorporation of sprite-based icons and other nostalgic elements meant these bit-crushed calls still felt appropriate. However, with the series’ move to the Switch and its embrace of larger, fully 3D worlds, these cries began to feel out of place, especially for newer players who lack years of nostalgic connection to draw from.
The first significant issue is one of identifiability. The cries often sound quite similar, particularly in earlier installments like Red and Blue or Gold and Silver, where roughly one hundred new Pokémon were represented by only about 30 base cry variations. Ideally, a monster’s distinctive sound should be as immediately recognizable as its silhouette. Unfortunately, the current low-fidelity cries simply do not meet this standard.
The second problem is that the continued use of these old-school cries feels incongruous within the broader context of the Pokémon franchise. When viewing the Pokémon anime, the creatures do not emit these same jarring, “crunchy” screams. The same holds true for the films, including major cinematic productions such as Detective Pikachu. At this juncture, virtually every new piece of Pokémon media, with the exception of the main video games (and the Trading Card Game, for obvious reasons), features proper voice acting. This brings us to the most compelling reason to abandon the audio clips from the Game Boy era: Pokémon that actually vocalize their names are simply more engaging and easier to understand.
While it might be considered a minor stylistic choice, this approach proves effective. It resonates with the philosophy held by many vexillologists that flags should be simple enough for a child to draw. Children can easily pronounce ‘Charmander,’ ‘Greninja,’ and even ‘Alomomola.’ However, they certainly struggle to articulate the abstract, generated cries. For a game primarily aimed at younger audiences, the reinforcement of hearing a Pokémon say its name while simultaneously seeing it in text not only enhances comprehension but can also serve as a valuable learning exercise. Furthermore, ask yourself: when you imagine Squirtle, what do you truly hear in your mind – its traditional electronic cry or its spoken name?
There are, of course, several reasons why Game Freak has not yet made this leap. The most obvious is financial cost. While localization expenses typically constitute only a fraction of a Pokémon game’s budget, the effort required to translate content for various global regions is substantial, especially with modern titles being available in at least nine different languages. This includes adapting the names of specific monsters to better suit particular markets. For instance, in Japanese, Hitmonchan and Hitmonlee are named Ebiwalar and Sawamular as an homage to some of Japan’s most renowned boxers. Thus, when considering the need to hire different voice actors across the world to perform all these localized variations, the expenses become considerable.
Moreover, an argument exists that establishing a canonical voice for a main character, such as Victor or Gloria from Sword and Shield, might detract from players’ ability to imagine their own. After all, Pokémon is an RPG. However, I believe this reasoning does not apply to each monster’s individual cry, even though many of them have been upgraded or refined in recent years. The same can be said for the idea that a Pokémon speaking its name sounds less natural than its abstract, electronic cry. Ultimately, these monster calls are iconic, and the Pokémon developers are aware of this, having provided distinct vocalizations for characters like Pikachu and Eevee in certain contexts. Regardless, for a franchise that stands as one of, if not the most valuable media property globally, I genuinely hope that one day we will receive proper vocal performances in Pokémon games, even if it incurs a little extra cost for Game Freak and Nintendo. To be clear, I do not dislike the old 8-bit cries, nor do I think Game Freak needs to remove them entirely. They could simply be offered as an alternate choice for players who prefer them over actual voices. I simply feel that after recently celebrating its 30th anniversary, it’s time for Pokémon to evolve and embrace the kind of voice acting that significantly contributed to the franchise’s widespread popularity in the first place.
