I'm Not A Master, I'm A Director (Type-Moon Fanfiction) - Chapter 41: Toho Cinemas

The 56th Cannes Film Festival concluded successfully, and Shinji had returned to Japan, but the storm created by Fate/Stay Night had only just begun in Europe and the Americas.

Despite the mixed critical reception of Fate/Stay Night, it ignited a viewing frenzy that overshadowed the award-winning films during the festival.

In a few years, when looking back on this film festival, people might not remember which movie won the Palme d’Or, or who took home the Best Actor and Actress awards.

But Fate/Stay Night’s debut would be a topic of conversation for countless people.

As a qualified entertainment manager, Cloris had a strong instinct for promotion, even though she couldn’t quite match Shinji’s abilities. She was among the best in the industry.

Leveraging the positive audience reception Fate/Stay Night had received at Cannes, Cloris initiated a rather aggressive marketing plan.

The film would debut in major film markets in Europe and the Americas in early June, not as limited releases but with large-scale screenings.

Cloris knew the importance of striking while the iron was hot, and she was determined to give this grand gift to the curious European and American audiences at the right moment.

To align with the release plan of the Time Group, Shinji didn’t waste any time upon his return to Japan. He, along with the main actors of Fate/Stay Night, actively participated in producing various promotional materials, from shooting movie posters to recording film interviews, to prepare for the upcoming global screenings of Fate/Stay Night.

Meanwhile, in Japan, the film industry was thriving.

The box office numbers continued to soar, and even Toho Cinemas, which had initially refused to screen Fate/Stay Night, had to “surrender” and began showing the film under its banner.

It wasn’t because Toho Cinemas put on a “Kingdom of Zer” act.

Instead, the executive manager of Toho Cinemas, faced with Fate/Stay Night’s mouthwatering box office, as well as the overwhelming public demand from his staff, had no choice but to compromise.

In the eyes of the staff in Toho’s cinema department, they questioned why they should bear the burden of the underperformance when the promotion department had been cozying up to film critics.

If the promotion department didn’t meet its sales targets, would they cover the cost?

“The promotion department is ridiculous! Why should we, the cinema department, take the fall for you when we’re responsible for managing the theaters?”

The executive manager of Toho Cinemas knew the Japanese film market very well.

The total box office in Japan hadn’t had any room for growth for years.

Every film shown in Japan was essentially vying for a share of the pie.

Despite the yearly occurrence of billion-yen box office films in Japan, when looked at individually, each movie had to contend in an intensely competitive environment.

So, for movie theaters, any film with the potential to become a billion-yen hit shouldn’t be missed.

Yet, for the cinema department to screen Fate/Stay Night after declaring to the film critics that “Toho Corporation wouldn’t show that garbage film even if it went bankrupt,” was a slap in the face.

However, when the executive manager of the promotion department approached the cinema manager, requesting that the film be taken off the screens as soon as possible, he received a negative response.

The cinema manager shrugged, sounding very helpless. “Sorry, you have your OKRs, and I have my KPIs. Building relationships with film critics isn’t our department’s objective. If film critics flip the table, it’s not my problem.”

Of course, considering that they were colleagues, the cinema department didn’t make it too difficult.

“If you can convince the board to lower our targets for this year, we can negotiate everything. Not to mention taking Fate/Stay Night off, we wouldn’t even mind playing it backward.”

Then… there was nothing more to say.

The promotion department, having eaten their fill, went to the board with such an outrageous request.

However, they knew that the cinema department was Toho Corporation’s largest revenue source.

While they might be on the same level as the cinema manager, they couldn’t even be considered a bastard child in comparison.

“Ah, I hope the film critics won’t go too far,” the promotion department manager lamented while touching his receding hairline.

Japanese people tend to be quite stubborn.

If this were a Western country, upon seeing a decline in the influence of film critics, the first reaction would likely be to exert pressure to make them compromise, rather than trying to fix the relationship, as this manager was contemplating.

In contrast to the divided Toho Corporation, the Bandai Group was unified at the moment.

With Fate/Stay Night’s successful run in Japanese theaters, Bandai not only reaped huge profits from the box office but also saw a surge in sales of related merchandise.

Especially Excalibur, a toy sold at cinema concession stands, became the favorite among fans, with nearly one-third of moviegoers who watched the film choosing to buy one.

Just like the lightsabers in the Star Wars universe, Excalibur not only became a symbol of Fate/Stay Night but also a symbolic and commercially successful product.

What made Bandai even happier was that Shinji hadn’t lied; he had genuinely reached an agreement with the Time Group to allow Bandai’s products to enter the European and American markets.

Maybe Shinji didn’t care much about the profit from surrounding products, or perhaps he wanted to prove his sincerity through this gesture.

Cloris surprisingly agreed to use the Time Group’s channels to sell Bandai’s merchandise and didn’t haggle over profit-sharing, just covering the costs.

For Bandai, this was undoubtedly a good start, and even if the products they could sell were limited to Fate/Stay Night, it gave Bandai hope for the future.

In summary, all parties related to Fate/Stay Night in May were very happy, except for Shinji.

While everyone was busy making a fortune with this film, he was broke.

In theory, Shinji shouldn’t be lacking funds at this moment.

The distributors who had bought Fate/Stay Night’s domestic distribution rights had already wired the money to Type-Moon Film and Television Company’s account.

Bandai had also just paid the first batch of profit-sharing for the film.

This was supposed to be a time when Type-Moon Film and Television Company had sufficient funds, and everyone was enjoying the fruits of their victory. However, Shinji was flat broke.

The reason was straightforward. During the internal “division of the spoils” in the company, Shinji didn’t include the cost of summoning the Heroic Spirits in the film’s budget; he accounted for it separately.

Don’t underestimate this expense. Not to mention the cost of leasing the leylines from the Tohsaka family, the Noble Phantasms of the Heroic Spirits were a significant expense.

Most Noble Phantasms were cultural treasures, and whether they were purchased or rented, it cost a lot of money.

So, when all these expenses were calculated, Shinji didn’t just miss out on the first batch of profit-sharing from Fate/Stay Night; he ended up owing the company some money.

Shinji’s decision to shoulder the cost of summoning the Heroic Spirits had its reasons.

In most film companies, this cost was usually included in the film’s budget.

However, if this money was factored in, the cost of the Heroic Spirit actors would be comparable to that of regular celebrity actors, erasing the cost-effectiveness of using Heroic Spirits.

Thus, to promote the Heroic Spirit actors, Shinji had no choice but to put this expense under his own account to minimize the costs associated with the cast.

In comparison to the ever-increasing fees of celebrity actors, summoning Heroic Spirits was a one-time expense and, in the long run, was much more cost-effective.

Even though Shinji made this choice for the future, it didn’t change the fact that he was now essentially broke.

In reality, this wasn’t entirely accurate.

After all, Zouken, who doted on his grandson, would still give him a small allowance.

However, 50,000 yen in pocket money might not be much for an average high school student, but for Shinji, it wasn’t enough.

It didn’t even qualify him for a trip to Tokyo’s red-light district to enjoy himself.

Not to mention that Shinji’s little sister, Sakura, was constantly tempting him to buy Arturia’s photo books and private video tapes.

Shinji found it quite strange. The day he returned, Arturia went on a rampage, almost demolishing the entire Emiya residence.

Despite such a situation, Sakura had somehow managed to keep these things hidden from Arturia, preventing her from discovering them. It was truly unbelievable.

This also made Shinji realize that he was being taken for a ride by his little sister.

“Darn it, she even made Arturia wear that kind of clothing… I really want to see it.”

To overcome his financial difficulties, Shinji made a significant decision.

“Everyone!”

In the office, Shinji slammed the meeting table and announced to everyone, “We need to prepare for a new movie.”

“Master, really?!” Cu Chulainn, like an excited puppy, stood up with his hands resting on the table.

“Master, am I going to be the main character in the new movie?” The Hound of Ulster who asked this question was quite confident because, in his view, none of the members of the Heroic Spirit team could match his acting skills.

However, Shinji’s words mercilessly shattered his dream.

“Unfortunately, Cu Chulainn, you won’t play a major role in this film.”

At this point, Shinji’s eyes also glanced at the other Heroic Spirits.

“Archer, Medusa, and Heracles, the three of you won’t have significant roles either.”

The Heroic Spirits mentioned nodded, accepting Shinji’s statement.

EMIYA and Medusa were not very interested in making movies and didn’t oppose the decision. Heracles was a well-behaved and obedient man, so he accepted it as well.

Only Cu Chulainn was dissatisfied. He slapped the table hard, making a “crack” sound.

“Master, why aren’t you letting me play a role? This is unfair!” Cu Chulainn complained loudly. “Even that Goldie who acts like he’s above everyone can be in the movie, but I, a diligent and hardworking model laborer, can’t play any role at all!”

“Because…”

Shinji sighed and ran his hand through his hair, then dropped a plan on the table with a white cover bearing the title “Fate/Zero.”

“The new film’s project is a prequel to FSN.”