Hook Premieres

Sony Columbia Pictures' promotional campaign for "Hook" had already been fully launched as early as November.

Traditional newspaper layouts, magazine color pages, and huge posters seen everywhere in the city—everything follows the rules and is Hollywood's most classic and mature propaganda model.

These promotional materials feature Dustin Hoffman's wicked grin and Robin Williams' perpetually youthful face, but not a single word about the arcade game of the same name appears.

Nintendo's intelligence network is like a vast net, covering all the battlefields they consider: game stores, arcades, consumer electronics shows...

But this network has one major oversight: movie theaters.

In their view, that area had long since faded with the era of <PONG>, becoming the "old continent" of the gaming industry, and not worth investing effort in.

Until December 9th, there were only two days left before the film's release.

The ticket halls of major movie theaters across the United States seemed to have been enchanted overnight.

The prime spot that was originally used to display movie promotion standees was quietly cleared out.

Instead, there were brand new posters.

On the poster, Dustin Hoffman, playing Hook, smiles wickedly, surrounded by several lifelike game characters. At the bottom, a line of large text is enough to make any gamer's heart race:

"The official arcade game of Hook will premiere simultaneously in theaters on December 11th!"

December 11th, a weekday.

But for United States students who had already rushed out of the school gates and declared their liberation, this was only the second day of winter break.

"Hurry up, Jack! The movie's about to start!"

Fourteen-year-old Mike, stuffing popcorn into his mouth, urged his slow-moving companion behind him to hurry up.

They are die-hard Spielberg fans and kids who grew up watching Peter Pan cartoons; nothing is cooler than watching Hook during the first week of vacation.

The lobby of the AMC Theatres was bustling with noise, and the air was filled with the sweet aroma of butter and caramel.

"What's the rush? Our tickets are for 7:30, we still have an hour." Jack followed leisurely, but his gaze was drawn to a corner next to the ticket office. "Hey, look over there, why is there such a large crowd?"

Looking in the direction he pointed, I saw two brand-new arcade machines surrounded by layers upon layers of people.

The colorful decals on the device shimmered under the lights, and the screen displayed flashing swords and shadows, accompanied by bursts of excited exclamations and exaggerated shouts.

"What's going on? A video game console in a movie theater?" Mike found it rather novel.

His father mentioned that when he was a child, there were indeed some video game consoles in movie theaters, but those were all antiques like "PONG" where you hit blocks.

Back then, video games were still a relatively new thing, with a low barrier to entry, and there weren't any issues like preferred visual styles.

Many people are willing to toss in a coin or two to pass the time while waiting for the movie to be released.

As the games became more complex and the visuals more violent, girls stopped liking them, and couples couldn't play them together anymore, so these metal boxes gradually disappeared from movie theaters.

After all, who would give up the option of dozens or even hundreds of arcade machines nearby to play that one right outside the movie theater?

"Let's go take a look!"

Three teenagers, taking advantage of their agility, squeezed through the gaps in the crowd.

When Mike saw the image on the screen and the poster on the aircraft, his eyes widened instantly.

"My God! It's Hook!"

On the screen, a tiny figure in a green bodysuit is engaged in a fierce battle with a group of pirates, the movements fluid and the special effects dazzling.

That face was unmistakably Peter Pan from the movie poster!

"It really is an official game! It's synchronized with the movie!" Jack excitedly pointed to the sign on top of the machine, where the font was exactly the same as the movie poster.

On a nearby machine, a father was clumsily operating his character, while his son gesticulated wildly and shouted instructions, "Dad! Jump! Use that flying kick! Yes! That's it!"

The man was clearly not a gaming expert, yet he was sweating profusely and thoroughly enjoying himself. He would occasionally glance back at his excited son, his face beaming with smiles.

"Hey guys, make way, make way!"

A chubby guy carrying a bucket of popcorn finally finished a game and reluctantly got up from his seat, and immediately several people rushed forward to grab a seat.

I have some change! I'll go first!

"Queue up, understand?"

Mike and his friends exchanged glances, all seeing the same light in each other's eyes.

How much money did you bring?

I have five US dollar left!

"I have three quarters (25-cent coins) here!"

"That's enough! Let's play two rounds!"

They quickly gathered the coins and finally managed to grab an empty spot.

When you hold the joystick, press the start button, and select your favorite "Lost Boys" character, a wonderful, unprecedented experience washes over you.

The game's controls are simple and quick to learn; it's pure hack-and-slash and level-clearing. But the joy of teamwork when three friends' characters fight side-by-side, routing the pirates on screen, is far superior to playing the NES alone at home.

"Jack! Cover me! I'm out of health!"

"There's a number behind! There's a number behind!"

"I've zoomed in! Charge!"

In the noisy movie theater lobby, their shouts blended into a sea of joy around them.

The tedious wait for the movie to start suddenly felt incredibly short and exciting.

It wasn't until the theater's announcement that ticket checking for their show was about to begin that the three of them snapped out of their daze.

"Damn it, how could it be so fast!" Jack stared longingly at the "GAMEOVER" message on the screen.

"Let's go, or we'll miss it!" Mike grabbed him, while also grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bucket with his other hand.

The queue at the ticket gate was very long, and behind them, the crowd in front of the two Hook arcade machines not only did not decrease, but actually grew larger.

The clinking sound of the machine swallowing coins mingled with the cheers of the players, creating a symphony that made the cinema manager grin from ear to ear.

He stood not far away, watching the two long lines formed by the game machines, calculating in his mind how much extra income those two machines alone could bring in that night.

When Sega first approached him, he was skeptical, but now it seems like a windfall.

Meanwhile, Mike, who had just settled into his seat, still had the game's background music playing in his head.

The theater lights slowly dimmed, and the giant screen lit up.

When Spielberg's title appeared, followed by Dustin Hoffman's Hook appearing on screen, the entire audience in the theater erupted in expectant cheers.

But for Mike and his friends, and for the children who played that game in thousands of theaters across America today, it feels a little different.

The characters on screen are no longer just characters in movies.

They had just "played" them themselves.