"Sounds good, right? How about we go see it this weekend?"
"Why wait until the weekend? We don't have class this afternoon, so let's go now."
"What about soccer?"
"We can play soccer anytime, but if we don't see the movie, we'll miss our chance!"
Scenes like this played out all over Japan. After seeing the movie, young mages recommended FSN to the people around them.
Their reasoning was simple: since the movie had been made by fellow mages, they ought to help spread the word.
And it was such a great movie, too. Even if it had been a stinker, they would've helped out and done their part.
As for those old fossils in the Mage world, although they didn't recommend FSN to anyone, they still contributed to its box office.
They couldn't help it. After getting confirmation from their juniors and reading the paper Azu had written, the old fogies ultimately succumbed to their yearning for high-level, cutting-edge Magecraft and obediently walked into the theaters.
Of course, besides all kinds of mages, ordinary people also enthusiastically recommended FSN to their friends and acquaintances after seeing it.
People liked to show off. I've seen a great movie, but you haven't? Well, naturally, they had to come over and brag about it.
These reactions showed up in the box office figures as FSN's word of mouth gradually began to take hold among audiences.
Although Bandai's advertising hadn't changed much, the growing number of people who had seen the movie kept pushing its box office higher.
Even though it was a workweek and there had been no explosive growth in ticket sales over the past few days, the numbers had risen steadily each day.
Udagawa Nao promptly sent the latest box office figures to Shinji.
After nearly a week of weekday previews, FSN had earned a total of 9.47 million yen across 25 theater chains ahead of its first weekend.
It might not have broken 10 million yen, but given the limited screenings and advertising, that was already an impressive result.
"Those are excellent box office numbers!"
On Friday morning, Matou Shinji received a call from his Tokyo representative, his uncle Matou Kariya.
"Our movie has enormous box office potential. I'll put some pressure on Bandai and get them to invest more resources."
Kariya knew perfectly well that mages accounted for at least two-thirds of those ticket sales, but that didn't stop him from using the numbers to make his case.
"Try to get them to release it nationwide next week," Shinji instructed Kariya over the phone. "The Cannes Film Festival is being held in mid-May, and I've already had Waver submit an entry. I need enough leverage to bargain with European distributors!"
Kariya chuckled. "Don't worry, Shinji. As long as the box office keeps growing over the weekend, Bandai will have no excuse not to give it a wide release."
"Hey, Uncle, don't jinx it!"
Shinji immediately shot back.
Fortunately, Matou Kariya wasn't named Huang or Zhang. His words had no magical power, and he wasn't capable of jinxing anyone.
With Friday's arrival, Japan's film market entered its busiest stretch of the week.
Shinji was sincerely grateful that it was 2003 and not the 1990s.
Japanese companies might have introduced the five-day workweek in the 1980s, but it wasn't widely adopted until after 1992.
Even better, the two-day weekend for elementary and middle schools had only begun in 2002.
For the film industry, days off naturally meant peak box office.
After days of anticipation, FSN's remarkably strong word of mouth finally began to pay off.
Starting Friday evening, attendance at the 25 preview theaters across Japan was nearly two or even three times higher than on weekdays.
Quite a few young people even came to the theaters in groups, specifically asking to see FSN!
The news quickly reached Bandai. The final decision would have to wait until after a meeting, but Kazunori Ueno was already considering investing more resources in FSN.
"Eight million yen in a single day on Friday? We've really struck gold!"
Kazunori Ueno looked delightedly at the figures on the desk—the best proof of FSN's market potential!
With that evidence in hand, even the cautious Kazunori Ueno decided to go all in.
After all, you'd have to be an idiot to turn down a chance to make money!
Before the weekend was even over, Bandai's executives held a meeting and unanimously decided to expand both the advertising campaign and the movie's release!
Bandai gave FSN a much larger advertising budget, allowing its ads to appear in top newspapers and during prime time on movie channels.
At the same time, they expanded FSN's release, preparing to increase the number of theaters showing it from 25 to 270.
But before Bandai could carry out its ambitious release plan, bad news came from the theater chains.
Toho Cinemas and Shochiku Cinemas refused to screen FSN!
Chapter 30: The White Bone Demon Teases Sima Yi, While the Lecherous Wu Dalang Takes Lin Daiyu Off His Hands
If Friday's skyrocketing box office had finally shown Bandai FSN's potential, then Saturday's straight-up surge in sales convinced them even more that they'd made the right call.
Due to time constraints, FSN was still showing in only 25 theaters on Saturday, but its box office that day shot up to 19.46 million yen, with per-theater earnings approaching 800,000 yen!
Judging by its per-theater earnings alone, this was the sort of result you'd expect from a massive hit.
Master Shinji had traveled from Fuyuki City to Tokyo. Before heading to Bandai's offices, he heard the good news that the release was being expanded.
Unfortunately, his joy didn't last long. It was snuffed out by Toho and Shochiku's refusal to screen the film, and he flew into a rage.
"Toho Cinemas has freaking refused to screen FSN! Why?!"
Shinji had good reason to be so angry and anxious.
Of the two theater chains that had explicitly refused to release the movie, Shochiku's little outfit had only a little over 20 theaters. Toho Cinemas, however, had more than 50!
That might not sound like much compared with chains like Wanda and Dadi in China, but in Japan, where there were only 400 theaters at the time, Toho was already the second-largest chain.
And Toho's theaters were all in bustling urban districts with heavy foot traffic.
So as soon as he entered the conference room at Bandai's offices, Shinji shouted, "Isn't Toho being a little too overbearing by refusing to release my movie?! Are they saying they won't screen a movie just because they aren't distributing it? They were the ones who rejected me in the first place!"
"No, it has nothing to do with the distributor."
Udagawa Nao shook her head, rejecting Shinji's guess. From her tightly furrowed brows, she clearly wasn't in a good mood either.
"According to what I've heard, this has something to do with film critics?"
"Huh?"
The absurd answer nearly made Shinji fall over. He stared at Udagawa in disbelief.
Udagawa Nao explained, "Apparently, a critic named Kouichi Ippei rallied a group of film critics to pressure Toho and Shochiku, demanding that Toho refuse to screen your movie."
"Like a dog chasing mice—meddling in things that aren't their business."
Remembering the critic who had looked at him with undisguised disdain, Shinji snorted in annoyance.
He'd known that film critics had more influence than he'd expected, but he'd never imagined they could persuade theater chains to refuse to screen a movie.
"So the theater chains just did what the critics said?"
Udagawa Nao sounded just as helpless. "Kouichi Ippei has close ties with Toho and Shochiku. According to one of their employees, they can't give up a whole forest just to save a single tree."
Clearly, Toho and Shochiku believed the critics led by Kouichi Ippei were worth far more to them than Shinji was.
After all, one director could only bring in the box office from a few movies, while a prominent critic could influence the box office of countless films.
"Tch."
Shinji clicked his tongue and asked, "Why is that Ippei guy trying to stop my movie? It's not like he's doing it in pursuit of art, trying to ban my unartistic movie from being shown?"
"It's Kouichi," Udagawa Nao corrected him, shrugging. "I think they're scared. Your movie was the one he publicly condemned. If it really pulls in a huge box office, critics won't be able to make their opinions count anymore."
The most important thing critics had was their power to pass judgment with a word.
The ideal market, in their eyes, was one where movies they praised made a fortune and movies they panned bombed. That was the sort of market where they could earn the most money.
For years, film critics had been pushing the "truth" that only movies they praised could be called good.
But if critics called a movie terrible and it still raked in an enormous box office, that "truth" would be shattered, and critics would no longer be able to maintain their lofty status.
Just like that line from Iron Man 2: "If you can make God bleed, people will cease to believe in Him."
Actually, if this parallel world of the Nasuverse weren't so unusual, with art films so popular, critics' influence would have been diminished long ago.
"So what reason did Toho Cinemas give?" Master Shinji asked, hands tucked into his sleeves.
Refusing to screen a movie because of film critics wasn't an excuse they could give openly.
When Udagawa Nao heard Shinji ask that, her expression turned strange. She looked as if she were trying not to laugh in disbelief.
"The theatrical release of this year's Crayon Shin-chan movie starts next week, so Toho says it's reserving its screens for its own film."
Shinji gave a derisive snort. "What a load of crap."
Toho had played favorites with its own movies before, but this was blatant lying.
Crayon Shin-chan was a national favorite, but its theatrical movies consistently earned between one and one and a half billion yen every year.
If Shinji's memory was correct, Crayon Shin-chan would keep earning that steadily through the next twenty years.
With a movie series that reliable, Shinji didn't believe Toho wouldn't have set aside the necessary number of screens well in advance.
It was obviously just an excuse, but Toho had gone too far this time.
"Tch, if there were just more theaters..."
At the end of the day, the root of the problem was that Japan had too few theaters. If there were a thousand, he'd like to see whether Toho could still pull this kind of stunt.
That thought suddenly made Master Shinji want to start his own theater chain.
But it was only a passing thought. His goal was the global film market, not building a business in a tiny place like Japan.
"Other than those two chains, the rest shouldn't be a problem, right?"
Shinji propped his chin on both hands and turned to Udagawa Nao for confirmation.
"No problem. Although the number of theaters is lower than we expected, we still secured 210 theaters and 812 screens."
"That's enough. More than enough to make FSN a nationwide sensation."
Master Shinji flashed a wicked grin.
At that moment, he felt a certain urge stirring within him.
Making those high-and-mighty old men eat their words had always been one of Master Shinji's favorite things.
"I didn't go looking for trouble with you critics, but you came after me yourselves. So don't blame me for what happens next."
With a "warm" smile, Master Shinji began explaining his promotional plan to Udagawa Nao.
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◆
As the new week began, Bandai's attitude toward FSN changed completely. After ignoring it until then, they began giving it their full attention.
Besides expanding the release to 210 theaters, Bandai also set aside 20 million yen for advertising.
That might not seem like much, but by the standards of Japan's entertainment industry at the time, it was a considerable sum.
In an age when the internet was still underdeveloped, Shinji wouldn't even have known how to spend a hundred million yen on advertising.
Before long, FSN ads began appearing in top newspapers and during prime time on major TV networks. The movie's beautifully designed characters and thrilling fight scenes quickly caught countless people's attention.
Bandai, Japan's leading animation distributor, unleashed its full potential. At Shinji's request, the company precisely targeted its advertising at young audiences aged twelve to twenty-five.
Meanwhile, the crew still in Fuyuki City joined in with Bandai's promotional campaign.
Although they couldn't leave Fuyuki City to promote the movie, Shirou and the others agreed to interviews, posed for photos, and appeared on television programs as requested.
And at the center of the campaign was the heroine, Artoria.
Bandai even sent people to Fuyuki City specifically to have Artoria film several FSN tie-in commercials, including an ad for the Excalibur toy.
With this massive advertising blitz and the movie's consistently excellent word of mouth, FSN's box office finally began to climb noticeably.
In just the first four weekdays of the new week, it earned 248.94 million yen. Then, over the following three days of the weekend, it raked in another 383.74 million yen.
FSN finished with a box office total of 630 million yen, putting it at the top of Japan's weekly box office rankings.
It was FSN's first box office championship—and the first of Master Shinji's life.
So it was only natural that Kinema Junpo's Monday entertainment section featured FSN's poster as its headline, with the label "[A miraculous dark horse]" beneath it.
Before you continue