I first saw him on IBC.
Black leather, glowing red eyes, fists clenched as if ready to punch through grief.
They called him Masked Rider Black.
It aired on Saturdays, I think. I was in elementary.
I don’t remember full episodes—just fragments. The opening theme. The fights. Maybe even the fear.
But I remembered enough to know it mattered.
I didn’t know there were two series, Black and Black RX. I didn’t know this was Showa-era Kamen Rider.
At that time, I was probably more into Super Sentai anyway. Power Rangers. Flashman. Things like that.
But even then, something about Kamen Rider felt… heavier.
Less spectacle, more story. Less color, more grit.
Years later—college. I saw a post about the Rurouni Kenshin actor, Takeru Satoh. Turns out he was a Kamen Rider too. That rabbit hole was easy to fall into.
I clicked on Den-O. That was it. I never looked back.
It’s a Kid’s Show, They Say. So What?
Let’s start here.
Yes, it’s a kid’s show.
So is Sesame Street. So is Avatar: The Last Airbender.
So is Voltes V, if you really think about it.
But Kamen Rider—especially Den-O, Kuuga, and Ex-Aid—tackled things most adult dramas would flinch at.
Ryotaro from Den-O was weak. Fragile. Scared.
The kind of main character people would make fun of.
But in that vulnerability, he showed the deepest strength.
He was literally possessed by four Imagin—entities that fought through him.
And yet, in the end, he was still the one making the hardest choices.
Kuuga? Don’t get me started. That show should’ve broken me.
Yusuke Godai wasn’t fighting monsters. He was fighting inevitability.
That he would one day become what he hated.
The line between human and monster blurred. Slowly, painfully.
And then there’s Ex-Aid. A doctor. A gamer.
A neon-pink hero in scrubs, fighting viruses that manifest from human trauma.
What a concept.
From Showa to Reiwa: Three Eras of Evolution
We talk a lot about the Riders themselves. But it’s just as important to understand the eras they come from.
1. Showa (1971–1989)
The foundation.
Created by Shotaro Ishinomori, who wanted more than just heroes.
He wanted a response to Japan’s trauma—post-war, post-nuclear, post-truth.
Kamen Rider 1, 2, V3, and later Black and Black RX—these were products of a time when justice felt raw.
Simple, yes. But not shallow.
Technology was scary. Riders were often cyborgs created by evil, now turning against their makers.
Even the transformation scenes felt painful. Not flashy—just necessary.
2. Heisei (2000–2019)
A reboot. A revolution.
Starting with Kuuga, the Heisei era embraced serialized stories, deeper character arcs, and more experimental themes.
You had Riders who were detectives (W), time travelers (Den-O), reclusive geniuses (Kabuto), even spiritual avatars (Hibiki).
This was the era that asked not just how heroes fight, but why.
CGI joined the stage, for better or worse.
But practical effects remained. And emotionally, the stories didn’t pull punches.
This era also introduced Riders who were less perfect, more human.
Flawed, anxious, broken—but still willing to protect.
It hit differently.
3. Reiwa (2019–present)
I haven’t watched any Reiwa series yet. But I’ve been reading. Listening. Observing.
What I gather is this: Reiwa is not afraid to experiment.
Kamen Rider Zero-One tackled artificial intelligence and labor.
Saber explored storytelling, literature, and destiny.
Revice dealt with family trauma and inner demons—literally, because the Rider has a devil inside him.
There’s confidence here. Like Reiwa knows exactly what it is and doesn’t care if people find it strange.
It leans on bold visuals, thematic crossovers, and fourth-wall tension.
Some say it’s more commercialized. Others say it’s the boldest Rider generation yet.
I think maybe it’s both. And that’s okay.
I can’t wait to see it for myself.
Themes That Stick
Every era has its tone. But the recurring themes? Those stay. And they evolve.
- Technology
Showa feared it. Heisei tried to control it. Reiwa seems to have embraced it fully—flaws and all. - Greed and Humanity
Monsters are rarely just monsters.
They’re manifestations of lust, pride, fear.
Kuuga’s enemies only evolved because of how humans responded. That’s the terrifying part. - Time and Memory
In Den-O, you can ride the time train. You can even erase yourself.
But you can’t undo consequences.
That hurt. But it felt true. - Everyday Heroes
Ryotaro wasn’t a warrior. Emu (Ex-Aid) was awkward and cheerful.
These are people who shouldn’t be heroes.
But they are. And maybe that’s the point.
Henshin: Then and Now
That single word: Henshin.
Not just a transformation. A declaration.
Showa Riders screamed it with desperation.
Heisei Riders stylized it. Personal. Complex.
Ex-Aid? That belt plays music.
Still, the moment always matters.
The suit-up, the pose, the shift.
It’s when doubt turns into decision.
Even with more CGI now, the practical effects haven’t disappeared.
Fights still feel weighty. You still hear the crash of metal on stone.
That matters.
Aesthetics and Design
Some people love the simplicity of Showa suits.
Others live for the maximalism of Heisei and Reiwa.
Me? I’m somewhere in between.
Den-O’s multiple forms made the show flexible.
Kuuga’s black-and-red was regal but ominous.
Ex-Aid, though? Neon pink. Cartoon eyes. And yet… it worked.
Each design tells you what kind of story to expect.
Each weapon, each belt, each logo—they all speak a visual language.
Even the monsters evolve with meaning.
The Kamen Rider Memory (Philippine Edition)
If you were in the Philippines in the ‘90s, there’s a chance you saw Kamen Rider without realizing it.
Masked Rider Black and Black RX aired on IBC. Later, Agito, Ryuki, and Blade would show up on GMA.
Some of us had Jollibee toys. Others had pirated DVDs from Quiapo.
My younger brother once got a Faiz toy from relatives in Japan. We didn’t even know who that was—yet.
But we remember the belts. The poses.
We mimicked them during recess.
We didn’t know the full stories, but we felt their weight anyway.
There’s something about seeing a hero scream “Henshin!” and run into danger.
Even if you’re just a kid in Iloilo, watching grainy footage on a fat TV.
Rider Archetypes Across Eras
You start to notice patterns. Not formulaic—but familiar.
- The Brooding One – Think Faiz, Kabuto. Cool but lonely.
- The Rookie – Fourze, Build. Cheerful, often underestimated.
- The Antihero – Chalice, Kiva, Decade. Mysterious motives.
- The Gentle One – Den-O, Kuuga, Ghost. Quiet but resolute.
- The Team Player – W, Gaim, Revice. Partnership or rivalry central.
They repeat, but never feel recycled.
Because the world changes, and the Rider must, too.
Sidebars
Top 3 Most Drastic Changes in the Franchise
- Shift from episodic to serialized format
- Introduction of full-on team dynamics (e.g., Gaim, Revice)
- Maturity of themes—sacrifice, death, moral grayness
Most Underrated Riders
- Blade: Strong story, weird execution, emotional payoff
- Faiz: Complicated, flawed characters—so human
- Kiva: Gothic, strange, and better on rewatch
From Fans to Scholars
Kamen Rider has fan essays now. Critical takes.
People unpack themes of memory, biopolitics, posthuman anxiety.
There are forums. Subreddits. Filipino groups.
And yes—some of us have bought belts for graduation photos. (This is like so me.)
Because why not?
My Favorite Riders (And Why)
- Den-O: Because I know what it’s like to feel small and still keep going
- Kuuga: Because humanity is fragile, but not hopeless
- Ex-Aid: Because medicine is messy and still worth it
If You’re New, Start Here
Want to get into Kamen Rider? Here’s a gentle intro path.
- For Emotion and Legacy: Kuuga
- For Fun and Time Travel: Den-O
- For Modern and Thought-Provoking: Build or Zero-One
- For Duo Dynamics: W
- For Medical Weirdness: Ex-Aid
Most series are standalone. You can jump in anywhere.
YouTube, TokuSHOUTsu, and fan sites have legal options now.
And once you’re in, you’re in.
Why I’m Coming Back
I stopped watching when life got too loud.
When I thought I needed to be “grown up.”
But I kept thinking about those stories.
Kept remembering what it felt like to Henshin.
I haven’t caught up with Reiwa yet. But I will.
Because this isn’t just nostalgia.
It’s a form of remembering who I was. And who I still am.
You know what?
Maybe Kamen Rider helped raise me.
Even when I didn’t know I needed raising.
And if that makes me childish?
Then let me be that, proudly.
Because joy like this is never wasted.