Movie-Game Tie-In Returns with Toy Story

A clever borrowing of strength.

That was the tone Jobs had set.

Use the halo effect of their distribution partner Disney to hold a city-shaking promotional campaign.

Maximize the market heat for both the film and the game.

In the media releases, he spared no effort in shaping Pixar's brand image, publicly declaring that this work was the greatest leap forward in animation since Disney made Snow White.

"Pixar is fusing art and technology, just like Mac once did." Jobs capped his marker and delivered his conclusion.

The release window for the film and game to go on sale simultaneously had already been finalized.

With the endorsement of Hollywood's industrial standards, plus Sega North America's channel capabilities, a vast sales net covering the entire Christmas holiday had already been cast.

Everything was ready. They were only waiting for the products to hit shelves.

November 19, 1995, Los Angeles.

Outside the El Capitan Theatre on Hollywood Boulevard, the red carpet stretched dozens of meters.

The flashbulbs were so dense that it was hard to keep one's eyes open.

This was Disney's home turf, and the spectacle was enormous. Tom Hanks and Tim Allen had just stepped out of an extended Lincoln when they were surrounded so tightly by the media's long guns and short cannons that not even water could get through.

Beside the theater, deep-pocketed Disney had raised a temporary playhouse from flat ground.

It had been recreated one-to-one according to Andy's room in the movie.

Giant building blocks, a desk lamp, wooden floors covered with colorful carpets. Children ran wildly inside while parents followed behind taking pictures.

Tom Kalinske wore a well-tailored custom suit and stood at the entrance of the playhouse, watching the scene.

As president of Sega North America, he had been invited to attend the premiere.