Pokémon And Popcorn

At Edmond Town Hall

By Jeff White

The phenomenon that has been banned from some store shelves in Britain and has caused fist fights, the most recent between two mothers at a Honesdale, Pennsylvania bus stop, came to Newtown this week with not much ado, except perhaps long lines and broad, gap-toothed grins at Edmond Town Hall.

 Edmond Town Hall theater manager Tom Mahoney likes to bring children’s movies to the two-dollar movie house on weeks when students have a holiday from school. This week’s Martin Luther King, Jr holiday provided an extra opportunity for Newtown’s youth to crowd matinees of Pokémon, the First Movie.

Although as of last Monday no matinee had completely sold out, Mr Mahoney remarked that the weekend afternoon performances of the Japanese animated movie had large crowds, which meant good business for the concessions counter.

“It’s been crazy here,” said Sarah Sturgis, the night manager at town hall, of the matinees.

Whether or not you comprehend Pokémon, few can deny that it is the biggest craze in the lives of young kids today, akin to the past Cabbage Patch Kids explosion, Transformers and Garbage Pail Kids.

Pokémon has its genesis in Japan, as a Nintendo computer game. The story line, as best as it can be deciphered, follows the journey of Ash Catchem as he endeavors to become a Pokémon master.

Pokémon are the creatures that make up the Pokémon universe, totaling over 150, with names such as Blastoise, Dewgong, Graveler, Wigglytuff, Victreebal and the beloved Pikachu. They each fall under one of seven broad categories: colorless, fire, psychic, water, electricity, grass and ground, each taking on characteristics that resemble their category. Pokémon, rather than Pokémon masters like Ash Catchem, are the stars of the video games for Game Boy Color and Nintendo 64, and, of course, the trading cards.

The Pokémon catchphrase is “Gotta catch ‘em all,” which is what makes the trading cards such hot commodities. Because so many of the cards are limited in numbers, there are high values placed on them. “I have 426 [cards]!” shouted an enthusiastic Hunter Knapp while in line at the town hall Monday afternoon. His favorite Pokémon? “Mew, the hunter.”

For others, the Pokémon appeal rests in the action of the animation. “You never know what’s going to happen next,” explained Adam Pratt, who was gearing up to see Pokémon, the First Movie for the second time. “It’s a mystery what Ash is going to catch next, what [the Pokémon] Pikachu will do next.”

“They’re just cute, plain and simple,” said Cecile Berlioux.

The movie has turned into a financial windfall for Disney, who picked up the feature for what Tom Mahoney called a cheap price. In its opening weekend nationwide in mid-November, it grossed $31 million, topping the box office charts.

But the mainstream popularity of Pokémon has been curbed in many schools across the country, due to the obviously distracting nature of carrying on Pokémon trading card transactions during math classes. In Newtown, Sandy Hook, Hawley and Head O’ Meadow elementary schools have all checked Pokémon paraphernalia by forbidding it on school premises. Administrators at Middle Gate said that such a ban was in place last year, and has never really been challenged; kids just know to keep Pokémon at home.

At the middle school, no official banning of Pokémon is in place, said Assistant Principal Anthony Salvatore this week, though faculty and staff do discourage students bringing Pokémon to school. Having kids decide what is and is not appropriate for school hours helps them to make good choices, Mr Salvatore said.

And with the Pokémon prevalence on television, magazine covers and the big screen, students will be able to get their fix in other venues besides schools. It won’t be long until Pokémon, the First Movie is available at local movie rental stores, a prospect that brought wide smiles when announced to the young movie-goers at the town hall.

But with all the excited looks on the faces of Pokémon fanatics this week, parents, many of whom ushered large groups of kids into town hall from the frigid outside air, struggled to understand what all the hype was about.

Lisa Allaby, who brought her two sons and two of their friends, queued patiently for popcorn Monday afternoon. “I feel well, I can subject myself for two hours, whatever it means.”