Relaxing at the Resort

Pokémon Concierge is unusual by franchise standards. Not only is it low-stakes, it’s a 4-episode, stop-motion animation venture. Considering how tedious and time-consuming stop-motion is, as well as how hit-or-miss it is with audiences, this miniseries was, inevitably, going to be niche. What I didn’t expect was how cute and relaxing it’d be. It might be one of my favourite pieces of media from 2023.

The premise is simple: Haru, an overly-stressed businesswoman, is recruited to work at an elusive resort. Said resort’s a known vacation spot for tamed and wild Pokémon, and she’s been tasked with being a concierge. Initially unsure of what to expect, Haru quickly realizes the calming nature of this resort. Was she sent there to learn how to relax? Haru’s not sure, but she goes with the flow anyway.

Pokémon’s a franchise I have a love-hate relationship with. Unlike Digimon, which I adore for its coolness, the franchise has frustrated me nearly as regularly as it’s endeared. This is especially true of TV and film, two mediums it rarely translates to effectively. Add in the rollercoaster of quality the spin-offs have been, as well as my own mindset shifting frequently, and I wasn’t sure I’d end up liking this show.

That was…until I sat down and watched it. It wasn’t long, the four episodes combined are a little over an hour, but like Haru, I learned to go with the flow. Pokémon Concierge might be low-stakes, but it’s also relaxing. It’s this franchise’s answer to Kiki’s Delivery Service or My Neighbor Totoro, except without the dramatic finales. I respect that.

Perhaps the show’s biggest strength is the titular heroine. Haru’s an anxious worrywart, like myself. She overthinks everything, always concerned she’ll disappoint everyone. As someone with anxiety and Tourette’s Syndrome, I can relate. And like Haru, I find I can relax in the right circumstances. This is something Pokémon Concierge drives home, but I appreciate that it’s not preachy. I can’t be told to relax, it has to happen naturally.

It helps that the show is cute and chill. Pokémon has always been vibe-heavy even during its intense moments, and this is the epitome of that. The character designs are as simple as they are endearing, evoking a Robot Chicken sketch if they were better-animated, less cynical and non-violent. At the same time, the world doesn’t feel alien from the main Pokémon universe. That’s hard to pull off successfully.

But it does. And bless it for that! Despite starting with Haru being overly-stressed, highlighting her crappy week via an inner-monologue, the show slows down as she learns to get her bearings. Her inner-narrations lessen overtime, such that she no longer needs them by Episode 4. That’s this show’s biggest secret.

It helps that Haru’s English VA, Karen Fukuhara, naturally nails that vibe with little effort, even if I can’t help thinking of Glimmer from She-Ra and the Princesses of Power whenever she speaks. The side-characters are well-voiced too, with Josh Keaton in an unrecognizable role. But Fukuhara’s the real standout. And while the syncing isn’t 100% accurate, thanks to the lip-flaps being realistically-animated, after a while you stop caring. I like that.

The real strength of Pokémon Concierge is its production value. Pokémon’s animated shows often suffer from budget limitations, but this miniseries has both Netflix money and the advantage of being a co-production with an American studio. You see that in the end credits, true, but also in the designs. The movement of the characters, even the Pokémon, is seamless and top-notch, making the show feel lived-in. Even little imperfections, like Haru’s fingertips being red, add to the realism, showing how much effort went into making it tangible. That’s something a traditional, Japanese anime budget wouldn’t allow.

In the end, what makes Pokémon Concierge work is how relaxed it is. You really become immersed, appreciating how immediate the stakes are to the characters. You feel for whether or not Haru will fit in, or if she’ll bond with a Pokémon. Even by show’s end, when Haru’s learned to pay it forward, you’re wrapped up in the low-tension. It’s this kind of writing that many Western productions frequently bungle, so it’s nice seeing it done well here.

Is Pokémon Concierge perfect? No. Aside from the short length of each episode, the story has a time leap between its third and final episodes. I get why this was done, to show that Haru’s become well-adjusted to her job, but it makes me wish we’d seen more of this piece of the Pokémon universe. It doesn’t help that this was meant to be an isolated miniseries with no continuations, despite cries for more. But if that’s my biggest concern, guess what? It’s done its job.

So yes, please watch Pokémon Concierge. It’s not the longest or best-written Netflix offering, and I’m unsure if the low stakes will resonate with everyone, but you owe it to yourself to try. It’s definitely relaxing at the least, and that needs to account for something!