Dubbing Indonesia | Pokemon

The official director wanted a sweet, high-pitched anime girl voice. Risa refused.

The show became a phenomenon. Twice a week, streets would empty at 7 PM.

The producer was silent for a long time. Then he laughed.

She got the job. But she wasn't Satoshi. She was the voice of Pikachu. Pokemon Dubbing Indonesia

They reached a compromise: Pikachu would say mostly "Pika-pika," but in moments of extreme emotion, a single word of Indonesian would slip out. Twenty years later, a documentary is made. It’s called "Suara dari Kaset" (Voice from the Cassette). It tracks down Pak Bambang, now an old man selling phone chargers in Glodok. He cries when he sees a montage of clips from his illegal dubs, played side-by-side with the official ones.

"Jesse and James?" Pak Bambang once asked his team, pointing at Team Rocket on the screen. "They are... Team Kriminal Bodoh ." (The Stupid Criminal Team).

That line became legendary. By 2002, the Pokémon Company International had caught on. Lawyers descended. The illegal VHS dubs vanished overnight. Pak Bambang’s stall was raided, his tapes crushed. A generation mourned. Kids were left with either the untouchable English-dubbed version on cable (a luxury few had) or silence. The official director wanted a sweet, high-pitched anime

Ash Ketchum—renamed simply "Satoshi" after the Japanese creator, a bizarre hybrid of dubs—sounded like a 35-year-old chain-smoking uncle from Surabaya trying to imitate a teenager. His battle cry, "Pikachu, serangan kilat!" (Pikachu, lightning attack!), was delivered with such gruff, gravelly intensity that you half-expected him to ask for a kretek cigarette afterwards.

They had no script guides. No directors. They translated on the fly, often making up dialogue when they couldn't understand the English slang.

But behind the scenes, a war was brewing. The Pokémon Company in Japan sent a stern letter: Pikachu must only say "Pikachu." No more Indonesian sentences. Twice a week, streets would empty at 7 PM

And somewhere in Glodok, an old man turns up his hearing aid, listens to the faint echo of a cartoon battle from a phone stall, and whispers to himself: "Pika-pika, Nak. Pika-pika."

It began not with a grand announcement, but with a whisper. In the chaotic, beautiful, static-filled afternoons of 1999, Indonesian television was a patchwork of smuggled VHS tapes, re-runs of Brazilian telenovelas, and local sinetron that all seemed to share the same crying soundtrack. Then, like a bolt of yellow lightning, Pokémon arrived.

The call went out. They needed voice actors. And they needed them fast.

It wasn't the pristine, high-definition version the Japanese or Americans saw. It was something rawer. A third-generation copy of the English dub, with the English text clumsily covered by a white box and replaced with clunky, all-caps Indonesian words. The opening theme song, "Gotta Catch 'Em All!" was left in English, a strange, foreign chant that every kid mangled with pride.

A young woman named Risa Sarasvati, a theater student who worked part-time at a radio station, auditioned. She was a die-hard fan of the old VHS dubs. She remembered Pak Bambang’s gruff Satoshi. For her audition, she read a scene where May (Haruka) first sees her Torchic.