Which Decade Had The Best Kamen Rider Series?

Kamen Rider has been a staple of Japanese tokusatsu since the 1970s, and its output varies wildly by decade. The 1970s kicked off with the original 'Kamen Rider' in 1971, followed by 'Kamen Rider V3,' 'X,' 'Amazon,' and 'Stronger,' totaling 5 shows by 1975. After a hiatus, the franchise returned in the 2000s with a bang—Heisei Phase 1 alone gave us 10 series from 'Kuuga' (2000) to 'Decade' (2009). The 2010s continued the trend with Heisei Phase 2, adding another 10, from 'W' to 'Zi-O.' The 2020s are still unfolding, but we've already got 'Saber,' 'Revice,' and 'Geats,' with more on the way. What fascinates me is how each era reflects its time. The Showa Riders were darker, almost horror-adjacent, while Heisei leaned into complex lore and Reiwa experiments with formats like 'Geats'' game show premise. The sheer variety makes it impossible to pick a favorite decade—each one brings something fresh to the table.

I actually just rewatched 'Kamen Rider Decade' recently, and the movie had me scratching my head at first! The series itself is this wild crossover fever dream where Tsukasa (Decade) hops through different Rider worlds, but the movie—'Kamen Rider Decade: All Riders vs. Dai-Shocker'—feels more like an explosive finale than a standalone sequel. It wraps up lingering plot threads (like the whole Destroyer of Worlds arc) while cranking the fanservice to 11 with every Heisei Rider showing up. That said, it doesn’t continue the story after the series; it’s more like the missing last episode they couldn’t fit on TV. The pacing’s chaotic, but seeing all those Riders unite against Dai-Shocker? Pure serotonin. Fun aside: The movie’s also infamous for its theatrical-exclusive ending, which ties into the 'Kamen Rider W' crossover. Toei loves their convoluted timelines, huh? If you loved the series’ multiverse madness, the movie’s a must-watch—just don’t expect a traditional sequel.

Diving into 'Kamen Rider Decade' felt like opening a box of crossover candy for me — chaotic in the best way. If you’re new, I’d watch it in broadcast order, start to finish. The show was designed to throw you from world to world and to meet different Rider versions as the episodes aired, so the pacing, reveals, and cliffhangers land exactly as they did for viewers back in 2009. Watching the episodes that way preserves the intended mystery around the Worlds and Natsumi’s role, and it keeps the character beats and gradual tone shifts intact. That said, don’t ignore the movies if you want the full experience. Treat 'All Riders vs. Dai-Shocker' and the 'Movie War' films as bonus chapters: they’re not strictly necessary to understand the core series, but they expand the scope and give extra Rider cameos and emotional payoffs. Personally, I watched the series, then slotted the movies in afterward; it felt like dessert after a heavy meal. Also, if you enjoy spotting callbacks, having watched a few original Rider shows (even just the pilot arcs of the ones featured) made the cameos much more gratifying. Watching with snacks and a friend who’s never seen a Rider transformation made some mid-series episodes into genuine party moments for me, so consider sharing the ride.

Kamen Rider 'W' (Double) holds a special place in my heart. The detective-noir vibe mixed with classic tokusatsu action just hits different. Shotaro and Philip's partnership feels organic, and the Gaia Memory gimmick adds layers to both fights and storytelling. The way each case unfolds in Fuuto City makes it feel like a superhero version of 'Sherlock' with more explosions. And don't get me started on the soundtrack—those jazzy tracks elevate every chase scene. It's one of those rare series where the episodic format doesn't drag; instead, each arc builds toward something bigger. The finale still gives me chills years later—proof that emotional payoff matters as much as cool suits.

The first 'Kamen Rider' series burst onto the scene in the 1970s, and man, what a game-changer it was! I've dug into a lot of tokusatsu shows, but there's something about the raw, gritty charm of that original 1971 series that still holds up. Shotaro Ishinomori's creation blended motorcycle stunts, sci-fi body horror (those cyborg transformations were wild for their time), and a rebellious antihero vibe that felt totally fresh. The show's iconic 'henshin' poses and the buzzing sound of the Rider Kick became cultural touchstones overnight. What's fascinating is how 'Kamen Rider' mirrored Japan's postwar anxieties—chemical weapons, human experimentation—while delivering popcorn entertainment. That first decade gave us not just Ichigo and Nigo, but also V3, X Rider, and Amazon, each with distinct flavors. The 70s Rider shows had this rough-around-the-edges practicality, using real locations and minimal CGI that made the fights feel visceral. Even now, when I rewatch those early episodes, I can see why it sparked a 50-year franchise—it wasn't just about the suit design (though oh boy, that grasshopper motif slaps), but the way it made kids feel like justice could literally come roaring in on a cyclone.

Kamen Rider has evolved in wild ways since the 70s, and as someone who binge-watched the entire franchise during lockdown, the shifts are fascinating. The original 'Kamen Rider' from 1971 was gritty and raw, with a focus on body horror and tragic heroes—Shocker’s human experiments felt like something out of a dystopian novel. Fast-forward to the 2000s, and shows like 'Kamen Rider Den-O' leaned into comedy and time-travel shenanigans, almost feeling like a Saturday morning cartoon. Then you get modern entries like 'Kamen Rider Geats,' which blends reality TV tropes with existential stakes. The core themes of justice and transformation remain, but the tone? It’s like watching different genres under the same name. What’s really cool is how the suits and tech reflect each era. Early Riders had these minimalist, insect-inspired designs with practical effects, while newer ones are CGI-heavy with flashy armor and gimmicks like 'Kamen Rider Zi-O’s' decade-switching powers. Merchandising also plays a bigger role now—transformation belts are basically mini consoles. But even with all the glitter, some things never change: that iconic henshin pose and the Rider Kick still give me chills.

Man, picking the best Showa-era 'Kamen Rider' is like choosing your favorite child—it's tough but you *know* which one has your heart. For me, 'Kamen Rider Black' stands above the rest. The story of Kotaro Minami’s struggle against Golgom is just dripping with 80s grit and emotional weight. The body horror elements, the tragic bond with Shadow Moon, and that iconic transformation sequence—it all feels like a dark, pulpy manga come to life. Plus, the suit design? Timeless. The way the show balanced episodic monster fights with an overarching narrative was way ahead of its time. That said, I’ve got a soft spot for the raw charm of the original 1971 series. The low-budget practical effects, the motorcycle stunts, and Takeshi Hongo’s unwavering heroism set the template for everything that followed. But 'Black' edges it out for me because of its tighter storytelling and that unforgettable finale. Even now, hearing 'Long Long Ago, 20th Century' hits me right in the nostalgia.

I'm still grinning when I think about how 'Kamen Rider Decade' used cameos like little fireworks—short, bright, and packed with nostalgia. One of my favourite stretches is the big movie moments, especially in 'Kamen Rider Decade: All Riders vs. Dai-Shocker', where random corners of the screen suddenly fill up with Riders you haven't seen in years. It's not just a parade; it feels like a family reunion where everyone actually throws down to protect something, and seeing unfamiliar combinations of Rider moves makes you audibly gasp even if you're watching on a tiny phone during a commute. Back on the TV series side, the way Decade pops into each Rider’s world and bumps into the original hero is always a treat. I love the quieter cameos too—the ones where a Rider shows up in the background of a town, has a single line, and leaves a ripple. Those tiny moments often carry more weight than the big battles because they remind you there’s a whole life for those characters beyond the crossover. Fans cheer for the flashy returns, but my heart goes to the small, human stuff: an exchange about duty, a shared look, or a fleeting explanation that ties two different tones together. Whenever somebody asks me where to start watching for cameo feels, I point them to those movie showdowns and a few key TV episodes where the cameos actually move the story forward—perfect blend of spectacle and heart.

This always felt like the coolest, slightly chaotic power system in 'Kamen Rider Decade' to me — like a collector's deck that can rewrite whole worlds. In the series, Tsukasa uses the DecaDriver and a set of Rider Cards as literal keys. Slide a Rider Card into the DecaDriver and he transforms into that Rider's form or borrows core powers from them; it’s not always a perfect copy, but more like Decade dressed in someone else’s armor with access to their signature moves and weapons. Beyond just transformations, the cards act as a gateway mechanic. Some episodes show cards opening doors between parallel Rider worlds, or letting Tsukasa enter into the memories and motifs of other Riders’ realities. There are also special cards — think of rare or combined cards — that unlock stronger modes or summon multiple abilities at once, which the show uses during crossover fights and climactic moments. Thematically, the cards are tethered to identity: using a card ties Decade to that Rider’s legacy, and over-reliance can blur lines between worlds. I still have a faded toy Rider Card in my drawer, and whenever I flip it I picture those weird one-off worlds and the way the show uses cards to move the plot as much as to power up the fights.

I still get a little giddy thinking about how wild 'Kamen Rider Decade' plays with continuity. Watching it felt like opening a book of alternate histories: each world is a fully-formed take on a Rider’s story, sometimes faithful, sometimes wildly divergent. The main mechanic is simple and brilliant — the protagonist carries Rider Cards that let him transform into other Riders or access their powers, and each episode drops him into a new Rider World where that hero’s life has taken a different turn. That makes it a literal multiverse show, where timelines are represented as distinct realities rather than one linear history. From a fan’s-eye view, the connection to other Rider timelines is intentionally loose and playful. Some worlds are clearly alternate retellings of 'Kamen Rider Kuuga', 'Kamen Rider Agito', or 'Kamen Rider W', while others are almost metafictional — riffs that explore themes or what-ifs rather than trying to slot into strict continuity. Then there are the movies, like 'Kamen Rider Decade: All Riders vs. Dai-Shocker' and 'The Next', which stitch things together more directly; they treat Decade as a bridge that can summon or merge Riders from different realities. That’s why debates about what’s "canon" can get heated: Decade doesn’t so much collapse timelines into one chain as it creates a web where crossovers, cameos, and retellings all have room to exist. Personally, I love that ambiguity. It turned every episode into a mini event for me — you never knew whether you were getting a reboot, a tribute, or a completely new spin on a familiar Rider, and that kept the series feeling fresh even after multiple rewatches.