Which Decade Introduced The First Kamen Rider?

The 2000s were an absolute goldmine for Kamen Rider. I mean, 'Kamen Rider Ryuki' alone was a game-changer with its battle royale premise and morally gray characters—totally flipped the script on traditional hero tropes. Then you had 'Kamen Rider Blade', which started slow but built one of the most emotionally satisfying payoffs in the franchise. And let’s not forget 'Kamen Rider Kabuto', with its cool-factor dialed to 11 thanks to Tendou’s swagger and that iconic clock-up gimmick. Even the lighter stuff like 'Kamen Rider Den-O' had this infectious charm, blending comedy and time-travel chaos. The era just had this perfect balance of experimentation and heart—writers weren’t afraid to take risks, and the suits? Peak design. That said, the 2010s gave us gems too. 'Kamen Rider W' nailed the detective noir vibe, and 'Kamen Rider Gaim' went full Shakespearean with its fruit-armored dystopia. But the 2000s? They defined what modern Rider could be. The storytelling felt raw and unfiltered, like the creators were throwing everything at the wall—and most of it stuck. Even the weaker entries had personality. It’s the decade I keep revisiting when I need that hit of nostalgia mixed with legit great TV.

Man, talking about 'Kamen Rider Ex-Aid' brings back some wild memories! Level 1, that adorable yet kinda janky chibi form, first popped up in the show's premiere episode, which aired on October 2, 2016. I remember how polarizing that design was at first—some fans were like, 'What is this, a Power Rangers knockoff?' but others (including me) totally vibed with its retro video game aesthetic. It’s meant to resemble an 8-bit character, complete with those blocky limbs and that hilarious oversized head. The whole 'bugster virus' storyline kicked off with Emu Hojo transforming into this form to fight a literal pixelated monster, and it set the tone for the series’ whole gaming theme. What’s funny is how Level 1’s clumsiness actually became part of its charm. Later in the series, it’s used for comedic moments or to show Emu’s growth when he outsmarts enemies even in this 'weak' form. Bandai really leaned into the nostalgia factor too, releasing merch that played up the pixel art style. By the end of 'Ex-Aid,' even the skeptics couldn’t deny how well Level 1 fit the show’s identity. It’s one of those designs that grew on people, kinda like how 'Gaim’s' fruit armor did at first. Now it’s a fan favorite for meme edits and tribute art—proof that first impressions aren’t everything!

Kamen Rider? Oh, that takes me back! The very first one was Kamen Rider Ichigo, who debuted in 1971. Created by Shotaro Ishinomori, this guy was a total game-changer for tokusatsu shows. I love how the series blended sci-fi with a bit of horror—Ichigo was a cyborg fighting against Shocker, this evil organization. The suit design was simple but iconic, with that grasshopper motif and the red gloves. The show had this gritty feel compared to today's more polished productions, but that's part of its charm. What's wild is how the franchise evolved while keeping Ichigo's legacy alive. Even in recent crossovers like 'Kamen Rider Heisei Generations Forever,' they pay homage to him. It's cool to see how the original's themes of justice and sacrifice still resonate. If you haven't watched the early episodes, they're a must—cheesy effects and all!

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.

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.

The Heisei era of Kamen Rider kicked off with 'Kamen Rider Kuuga' back in January 30, 2000. It was such a fresh take compared to the Showa Riders—less campy, more serialized storytelling, and way darker themes. I binge-watched it years later on a dodgy streaming site, and even with pixelated quality, the suit designs and that iconic 'changing form' sequence blew my mind. Kuuga’s arc about ancient curses and modern police investigations felt gritty yet oddly poetic. What’s wild is how the franchise evolved after that. By the time 'Kamen Rider Den-O' rolled around in 2007, the tone had shifted to comedy-heavy plots, proving how flexible the formula could be. But Kuuga will always be my gateway drug—those first episodes where Godai Yusuke slowly realizes the weight of his power? Chef’s kiss.

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, 'Kamen Rider Decade: Movie' is such a wild ride! It's like this massive crossover event where Tsukasa Kadoya, aka Kamen Rider Decade, travels through different Rider worlds to restore balance. The plot kicks off with the Destroyer of Worlds prophecy, where Decade is destined to destroy all Rider universes. But Tsukasa's like, 'Nah, I’m not about that life,' and teams up with other Riders to fight the real villain, Super Apollo Geist. The movie’s got this epic final battle where all the Riders unite, and Decade even gets this insane Super Form. The visuals are bonkers, especially when the worlds start collapsing. It’s messy, over-the-top, and pure Kamen Rider chaos—exactly why I love it. What really got me was the emotional stakes. Tsukasa’s journey isn’t just about saving worlds; it’s about him finding his own identity. There’s this moment where he confronts his role as the Destroyer, and it hits hard. Plus, the cameos from other Riders are fan service done right. The movie doesn’t take itself too seriously, but it packs enough heart to make you care. If you’re into tokusatsu, this is a must-watch—just don’t expect a tidy plot. It’s more like a celebration of the franchise, flaws and all.

Man, picking the 'strongest' Kamen Rider is like debating which flavor of ice cream reigns supreme—it’s subjective but oh-so-fun to argue! For me, Kamen Rider Geats from 'Kamen Rider Geats' stands out. His Desire Driver system lets him adapt to nearly any battle scenario, and his strategic mind makes him unpredictable. The way he turns the Desire Grand Prix into his own playground is terrifyingly impressive. But then there’s Kamen Rider Zero-One, whose Ark-One form embodies raw, unchecked power. That final arc where he struggles with his own darkness? Chilling. Both riders redefine what 'strength' means—one through intellect, the other through sheer emotional turmoil. Honorable mention to Kamen Rider Ex-Aid’s Hyper Muteki form, though. Infinite invincibility sounds broken until you realize Geats’s plot armor might outshine even that. What really fascinates me is how each Rider’s strength reflects their series’ themes. Zero-One’s power is tied to his humanity, while Geats thrives on chaos. It’s less about who hits harder and more about whose narrative weight leaves you breathless.

The Heisei era of Kamen Rider is such a nostalgic topic for me! It kicked off in 2000 with 'Kamen Rider Kuuga,' which totally redefined the franchise after a long hiatus. The vibe was fresh—darker storytelling, deeper character arcs, and suits that felt like a modern twist on the classic Showa aesthetic. I remember binge-watching 'Kuuga' and being blown by how it balanced grit with that trademark tokusatsu charm. The era wrapped up in 2018 with 'Kamen Rider Zi-O,' a love letter to all the Heisei Riders with its time-traveling plot. It’s wild how much the series evolved over those 18 years, from 'Agito’s' mystery themes to 'W’s' detective duo and 'Gaim’s' fruit-armored dystopia. Each series had its own flavor, but they all kept that core spirit of hope and transformation. What really sticks with me is how the Heisei era wasn’t afraid to experiment. 'Ryuki’s' battle royale? 'Faiz’s' tragic melodrama? Even 'Decade’s' dimension-hopping chaos—they all took risks. And the merchandise! The belt toys became insane, with voice actors and intricate henshin sequences. By the time 'Zi-O' closed the chapter, it felt like saying goodbye to an old friend who’d grown up alongside me. Now I’m itching to rewatch 'Build’s' geopolitical allegories or 'Ex-Aid’s' video game madness again.