Release

On the opening day, managers of all Toho cinemas were racking their brains trying to figure out which movies could be cut from the schedules for the next few days. Advance tickets at the ticket windows were already sold out, and seats for the off-peak screenings for the next two days were also snapped up.

In the conference room of Shochiku Films, the ashtray was already overflowing with cigarette butts.

"I should have realized it yesterday; those lines at the Toho entrance weren't shills hired by Guan Gong." A senior executive pounded on the table in frustration, his voice hoarse.

"What's the point of saying all this now? We haven't been able to get through to Toho since this morning, the line's been constantly busy!" Another person irritably loosened their tie. "It's the same with Toei, they're trying to get in touch with them too."

"They're probably busy counting money right now, they don't have time to answer our calls," a self-deprecating voice came from the corner.

Meanwhile, in a small cinema that had signed a lease for the film, the owner was personally directing the operation, wiping sweat from his brow as he shouted into the theater, "Mieko, popcorn! We're out of popcorn! And we're out of Coke cups too! Go get some from the storeroom!"

Looking at the packed audience at the cinema entrance, he couldn't stop smiling, feeling a surge of relief.

Fortunately, despite the pressure, I believed in Toho and Sega's promotional campaign and signed the contract decisively.

At Toho headquarters, the phone in the president's office finally connected to a dedicated line from Shochiku.

The voice on the other end of the phone was urgent yet tinged with a hint of ingratiation, cautiously proposing a joint release.

The president of Toho listened quietly, occasionally taking a sip of tea, until the other party finished speaking. Then he slowly said, "Oh, is that so? We need to consider this joint issuance matter carefully. How about this, next week—no, the week after next, I'll have my secretary contact you to see if the board of directors has time to discuss this matter."

As the movie ended and the lights came on, many people remained seated, still reeling from the end credits. In the corridor, intermittent sobs rose and fell, mostly from children, but also from several adult men in suits, their eyes red-rimmed.

"Dad, can we come again next week?" A little boy tugged at his father's clothes, his face covered in tears, but his eyes shone with an astonishing light.

The father knelt down and wiped his son's face, opening his mouth but unable to speak. He had only bought the ticket to appease his son.

Right now, I have a lump in my throat that I can't quite put my finger on.

"I never expected a movie meant for children to tackle this kind of subject matter." A middle-aged man wearing glasses adjusted his glasses and said to his wife, "The Human Genome Project —it sounds like something only big shots decide, but I never imagined it would be so close to us."

"That researcher inside, who treats test subjects like dirt for the sake of data, sent chills down my spine."

His wife was still shaken. "If this had happened decades ago, who knows what might have happened."

An elderly man with gray hair nearby overheard this, sighed, and said to his son beside him, "This kind of course on bioethics..."

It's time to put them in schools. We know all too well what kind of shameless and inhuman idiots they are.

His son nodded solemnly.

These conversations reached the ears of more parents, sparking hushed discussions and expressions of agreement.

Parents who hadn't planned to come because they were too busy with work or weren't interested are now considering it.

A woman in business attire immediately walked to the nearby public phone booth, inserted coins, and dialed. "Hello, is this Aiko's mother?"

You really need to take the kids to see that movie that's showing today, yes, the one with posters everywhere! Trust me, you have to go!

Many children were pleasantly surprised to find that their parents, who had been unmoved by their pleading just a few days ago, were now offering to take them to see the movie a second or third time.

At the cinema entrance, those who had just finished watching were still discussing the film with lingering interest, while those waiting to buy tickets were anxiously queuing in long lines. The two streams of people merged, making the already packed cinema even more congested.

The media always has the keenest sense of smell.

The excitement of the premiere hadn't even subsided when the newspapers and morning television programs already felt the impact of the film the following morning.

In the editorial department of the Asahi Shimbun, the editor-in-chief slammed a newly completed draft of the entertainment section onto the table.

"Change the front page! Put the politicians' scandals aside for now, readers only want to see this!"

He pointed to a report in the corner about the grand premiere of the film, "I want photos, photos of the queues outside the theater, photos of audience members with red, teary eyes! Send people to interview them, I want to know why those parents brought their children to see the film two or three times!"

On television, a popular film review program is analyzing and commenting on "Mewtwo Strikes Back".

The host began with a serious expression. "Yesterday, a film ignited the entire Japan. It's said that tickets for the next few days are already sold out. Let's hear what some film critics and experts have to say about this movie."

"The weak plot logic is obvious," a veteran film critic said first, with a hint of disdain in his tone. "The plot twists are too abrupt and lack sufficient build-up."

Another, younger film critic nearby immediately retorted, "I disagree. This isn't a documentary; it's a modern allegory. The director deliberately simplified the technical explanations to focus the audience's attention entirely on 'why' rather than 'how.' When a film can move well-dressed adults to tears, discussing plot logic is putting the cart before the horse."

"Both of you have a point," a sociologist commentator chimed in, taking the discussion to a deeper level.

"But the true value of this film lies in its ability to force all of us, especially parents, to confront a topic long monopolized by the elite—bioethics. Isn't that researcher who treats experimental subjects as data and is utterly inhuman a wake-up call to history? What a terrifying prospect it would be if scientific progress were to run rampant. I think this is the fundamental reason why it transcends age and evokes such widespread resonance."

After the program aired, public opinion was in an uproar.

Those who previously held a wait-and-see attitude towards the film, or even felt aversion due to the poster controversy, have undergone a significant change in their attitude.

Many school parent committees have started making calls to recommend that parents take their children to see the film, calling it "a vivid lesson in life education."

At the newsstand, the latest issue of a mainstream magazine prominently featured the headline. "<Mewtwo Strikes Back>: An Ethical Test for Society."