Finally Remembering Columbia Pictures

"In the past few years, there was Clear and Present Danger, Hook, and that Jurassic Park game that sold like mad. Sega had a mature business logic when it came to handling games released in sync with movies."

Ken Kutaragi nodded. "Capcom and Konami have also made plenty of movie-licensed games. Some succeeded, but most were just reskins, and almost none truly broke out of the circle. This time, Sega participated directly in building the film's world itself, even influencing Pixar's storyboard design. This kind of deep binding created an extremely strong resonance among players and movie fans."

The office was quiet for a moment.

"We have cards in our hand too." Nobuyuki Idei broke the silence. "It's been several years since we acquired Columbia Pictures. Aside from providing some copyrights from its film library, it hasn't truly exerted any synergy with the game business. Watching Sega bask in Hollywood glory while our own resources sit idle—that doesn't make sense."

Ken Kutaragi's eyes lit up. "You mean, have Columbia Pictures cooperate with PlayStation's promotion?"

"We can't waste such good resources for nothing." Nobuyuki Idei pulled open a drawer and took out a document. "Columbia Pictures has several big productions coming next year. Find a time to fly to Los Angeles and take a look around their sets. See if there are any projects suitable for adaptation into 3D games. If Sega can do it, there's no reason Sony can't. I can't help much with this kind of work, so I'll have to trouble you."

"I'll leave next week." Ken Kutaragi stood up. "For the scripts and art assets of these big productions, we can try making a demo on PlayStation. If we can put out real-machine footage before the films release, the effect won't be worse than Toy Story."

Nobuyuki