I'm Not A Master, I'm A Director
Chapter 428: Disney Needs Talent Like Shinji
For Marie, who didn't really play games, Shinji's answer was completely incomprehensible.
Terms like "buffing" were gaming jargon—something that a traditional magus like Olga Marie, whose daily life still felt stuck in an earlier era, couldn't possibly understand either.
Shinji had no intention of explaining further. Trying to describe modern lifestyles with words alone was difficult. If she experienced it firsthand, he believed Olga Marie would naturally pick it up without being taught.
However, Shinji had no interest in personally guiding the director into modern life. With the FGO prologue project already underway, his schedule would only get busier.
In fact, Shinji had already stopped paying attention to the box office battle between Garden of Sinners and Pirates of the Caribbean.
Given Disney's marketing power and the current reputation of Pirates of the Caribbean, even if it lost the box office duel to Garden of Sinners, the project itself had already succeeded—certainly far more than Cinderella, which was now barely discussed at all.
Since Pirates' success was already assured, whether its final box office surpassed Garden of Sinners wasn't that important to Shinji.
The reason was simple: no matter how much Pirates of the Caribbean earned, it wouldn't make more profit than Garden of Sinners, because the latter's production cost was far lower. That was the greatest advantage of films produced under the Type-Moon umbrella.
Outsiders might not know the specifics, but industry insiders could hear the rumors.
Everyone in the business knew that whether a film made money—or how much—could be guessed from the movements of company employees.
"Ahh…"
Inside his office in the Disney building, Robert Iger sighed at the Pirates of the Caribbean report.
The contents of the report were nearly perfect. Besides detailing how much the project had earned, it also emphasized its "major achievement": successfully intercepting Garden of Sinners, exhausting its box office potential through fierce competition, and ultimately thwarting Shinji Matou's plot to build a second Fate series.
Of course, those lines were just nonsense meant to fool board members who understood nothing beyond the final profit numbers.
In Robert Iger's eyes, those idiots only cared about whether the figures looked good and how much money they personally made. They never cared about how the company actually operated, what the process looked like, or how consumers viewed the brand.
Naturally, they also couldn't see the crisis Disney would face in the future.
"The market share of traditional film companies is shrinking…" Robert Iger muttered.
Looking only at box office performance, the gap between Pirates of the Caribbean and Garden of Sinners wasn't that large. But the difference in merchandise sales placed the two films on entirely different levels of commercial value.
Five years ago, no one in the film industry would have cared about merchandise sales.
Back then, every studio was obsessed with awards. As long as a film won prizes, box office and merchandise would follow.
But in just a few short years, the industry had changed drastically. "Winning awards" and "being successful" were no longer equivalent.
With a single film—FSN—Shinji Matou had taught everyone a simple lesson:
Awards? Who cares! Critics and ordinary audiences had never shared the same tastes. People had simply been blinded by the false authority of paper tigers.
And indeed, that was the case. Disney's recent films no longer pursued so-called artistic value; instead, they had begun to move closer to Shinji's style.
At first, quite a few people inside Disney opposed Robert Iger's approach, but the final results slapped those critics hard in the face.
Cinderella may have suffered in reputation, but it still turned a modest profit. And although Pirates of the Caribbean lost to Garden of Sinners, the project itself was undeniably a success.
What disappointed Robert Iger, however, was that the merchandise revenue from both films was far inferior to Shinji Matou's FA and Garden of Sinners.
Part of the reason was that their box office numbers were slightly lower than Shinji's films, but the bigger difference lay in their merchandise strategy and distribution planning.
"According to information from Time Group, the total merchandise revenue for Garden of Sinners is more than double that of Pirates of the Caribbean. The gap in reviews and box office shouldn't have produced such a huge difference…"
Robert Iger rubbed the lines on his forehead, his face showing nothing but helplessness.
At the previous board meeting, he had proposed aligning their merchandise marketing model with Time Group's strategy. In response, a group of clueless old men had asked him, "Why didn't you prepare Pirates of the Caribbean for awards? Without winning awards, how are you going to sell DVDs?"
If not for his self-restraint—and the fact that the old man looked like he might collapse from a light breeze—Robert Iger would have punched him square in the nose.
Awards? My foot. As a shareholder of a film company, don't you even do market research? Do you know how much the economic return from awards has dropped compared to five years ago?
"Tch."
Recalling that idiotic remark, Robert Iger unconsciously clenched his fist, crumpling the documents in his hand.
"No… The board needs restructuring. Those stubborn fossils who can't keep up with the times need to be removed. How can Disney be run properly with those parasites around?"
Robert Iger made up his mind. He would eliminate the "noise" within the company.
"The results of Cinderella and Pirates of the Caribbean have already proven that Type-Moon's path is correct. Our future film projects should continue learning from their operational model."
"No… just learning might not be enough. What Disney lacks is a core talent, someone who can fully implement this philosophy and oversee the big picture."
Thinking that, Robert Iger once again circled Shinji Matou's photo with his pen.
"In the end, what Disney needs isn't just film projects… it's Shinji Matou himself. I heard his new project is allowing outside investment. Maybe this is an opportunity."
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Far away in Japan, Shinji had no idea about the troubles of a certain "smiling Mickey Mouse." All he cared about was the filming of FGO: Prologue.
"Cut!"
After a scene ended, Shinji called a halt once again.
Hearing the tone of Shinji's "Cut," which clearly wasn't pleased, Charlemagne gave a helpless smile.
He didn't blame Shinji. This wasn't his Master's fault—it was the girl standing in front of him: Olga Marie.
Still, Charlemagne wasn't surprised. Though both of them were acting in a film for the first time, Olga Marie clearly wasn't suited to be an actress.
At least in Charlemagne's eyes, it wasn't that she had done no preparation—she had simply done nothing useful.
Fortunately, the young king was quite gentlemanly. Even after being dragged into multiple NG takes, he didn't lose his temper at Olga Marie. He quietly returned to his starting position, waiting for the next shoot.
But this time, the call to stop was different from the previous ones. Shinji finally decided to talk directly to the actor.
"Marie!"
Shinji beckoned Olga Marie over with a curl of his finger.
"…I'm doomed."
Olga Marie shrank her neck, clearly nervous.
"Um, Mr. Saber…"
Olga Marie glanced at Charlemagne as if asking for help, but he only replied with a smile.
"If you messed up, just go take the scolding like a good girl."
She immediately read the schadenfreude in her partner's expression, which only made her feel even more depressed.
Charlemagne actually understood her mindset. Normally, his Master joked around and acted carefree, but when it came to work, Shinji radiated a powerful aura that was hard to describe.
Even when he simply sat quietly behind the monitor, it made everyone in front of the camera instinctively nervous.
Privately, Charlemagne had always suspected that his Master was secretly using some kind of magecraft. Otherwise, how could he possibly create that kind of pressure?
Of course, Olga Marie's fear wasn't just because Shinji was intimidating. It also came from the subtle relationship between the two of them.
"Well, at least I'm not the one getting scolded."
Charlemagne rubbed the back of his neck and grinned.
Watching someone else get put on the spot from the sidelines really felt great.
"Wait, no, no… I should tone down my smile… Huh? That's it?"
He noticed that after only exchanging a few nervous words with Shinji, Olga Marie returned with a rather strange expression on her face.
"What did you two talk about? Don't tell me he invited you to dinner?" Charlemagne teased.
"Nothing like that." Olga Marie shot the unserious Emperor a glare. "I already had dinner with him the night I arrived in Japan."
Charlemagne: "..."
He knew the so-called dinner must have been a formal reception, but considering her past with Shinji, the wording still sounded… off.
"Shinji just gave me some acting guidance. He said…"
Recalling Shinji's advice, Olga Marie's expression grew even more peculiar.
That only piqued Charlemagne's curiosity. He hurriedly pressed on, "Let me hear it! What little trick did Master teach you?"
His Master was undoubtedly a great director. Even if the advice was meant for Olga Marie, it should still be useful for a newcomer like him.
But Olga Marie's answer caught him completely off guard.
"Shinji told me not to feel pressured. He said I should imagine you as some idiot from our department… and just curse you out as hard as I can."
Charlemagne: "..."
I have something to say… but I'm not sure I'm allowed to say it.