Imagine a world where a children’s game becomes the highest-grossing entertainment franchise in history, dwarfing even Star Wars and Marvel. Sounds unbelievable, right? But it’s true—Pokémon, with its staggering $115 billion earnings since 1996, holds that crown. Is this a sign of society’s infantilization, or is there something deeper at play? Keza MacDonald, The Guardian’s video games editor, argues the latter in her captivating biography of Nintendo, the company that defined electronic entertainment long before PlayStation or Xbox ever existed.
Pokémon, while undeniably a children’s phenomenon, is far from simplistic. MacDonald highlights its sophisticated appeal, drawing parallels to Harry Potter, the Famous Five, and Narnia. These franchises, she notes, offer a powerful escape into worlds of self-determination, free from adult constraints. Pokémon, with its intricate scoring system, even turns algebra into a voluntary, engaging activity for millions of kids. But here’s where it gets controversial: Is this just clever manipulation, or a genuinely enriching experience?
The franchise’s reach extends beyond children, as evidenced by the 2016 global frenzy over Pokémon Go. Adults, perhaps seeking solace from a year marked by the losses of David Bowie and Prince, as well as the Brexit referendum, took to the streets in search of virtual monsters. While some dismissed it as pure escapism, others saw it as a way to reconnect with the physical world—a stark contrast to 2020, when Nintendo’s Animal Crossing: New Horizons became a lifeline for remote socialization during lockdowns, selling a staggering 45 million copies.
At the heart of Nintendo’s success lies Mario, the iconic plumber whose “unorthodox uniform” and boundless energy have made him a global symbol of joy. Created by the enigmatic Shigeru Miyamoto, Mario stars in what may be the most aesthetically consistent entertainment series ever. The 2023 release, Super Mario Bros. Wonder, is a testament to this—a video game that doubles as a slapstick musical. But what makes Miyamoto’s work so timeless? Is it genius, or just common sense applied with extraordinary skill?
Miyamoto’s influence extends beyond Mario. His creation, The Legend of Zelda, inspired by his childhood explorations, has produced some of the greatest video games ever made. Consider Hyrule Field from Ocarina of Time (1998), a vast, realistic open space so immersive that even today, the sound of a crow’s caw can evoke memories of that virtual world. In an interview with the game’s lead programmer, MacDonald uncovers the dedication behind such masterpieces: “I worked hard to make her a good horse,” he says of Epona, the hero’s loyal steed. And this is the part most people miss: It’s the passion and craftsmanship of creators like these that elevate games from mere entertainment to art.
MacDonald’s conversations with Nintendo’s creative minds reveal a philosophy rooted in simplicity and joy. Gunpei Yokoi, inventor of the Game Boy, famously described his approach as “lateral thinking with withered technology,” prioritizing innovation over cutting-edge tech for its own sake. Nintendo’s refusal to incorporate generative AI into its games underscores this ethos. As Miyamoto puts it, they focus on “what makes Nintendo special”—a commitment to pure, unadulterated fun. Takashi Tezuka, producer of Super Mario Bros. Wonder, sums it up beautifully: “It’s an action game where you get enjoyment out of discovering how to become better.” In a chaotic world, the pleasure of mastery is indeed a rare gift.
But here’s the question: In an age dominated by profit-driven algorithms and endless online content, can Nintendo’s ‘toymaker philosophy’ truly offer a meaningful alternative? Or is it just another form of escapism? Let’s discuss—what do you think? Is Nintendo’s focus on simple joy a refreshing antidote, or a missed opportunity to push technological boundaries? Share your thoughts in the comments!