A Collision Between Film Director and Game Director?

"Using game visuals to imitate film shots?" Mamoru Oshii raised a professional doubt. "With the hardware capabilities at this stage, the result would only be comical."

"So in the eyes of proper film directors like you, his current methods of game expression aren't polished enough, and may even be trying too hard at times." Nakayama Takuya openly acknowledged the existence of technical barriers. "But he put in brutal effort. He took apart cinema's audiovisual language and forcibly stuffed it into the interactive logic of games. The stealth mechanics he designed, the plot reversals, and the effects that break the fourth wall—players are very much buying into them. Most importantly, he wrapped those obscure philosophical discussions into an espionage story with an intensely Hollywood blockbuster feel."

Nakayama Takuya lifted his cup and clinked it against the one in front of Mamoru Oshii. "The information-overflow problem that gives you headaches—he found his own solution for it in games. When players operate the protagonist infiltrating an enemy base, they have plenty of time to listen to the background setting introductions over the radio. Players who don't want to listen can skip them and enjoy the fighting; players who want to dig deep into the setting can soak in it for dozens of hours. That's the charm of interactivity. It hands the choice over to the audience."

Mamoru Oshii looked at the sake swaying in his cup.

He knew Nakayama Takuya's way of doing things very well.

This young Sega managing director was usually easygoing, but in commercial judgment and in evaluating creators, he never loosed arrows without a target.

Anyone who could make him give such high praise must have something extraordinary about him.

"The two of you—one is an animation director whose desire for expression has been limited by film length, and