I'm Not A Master, I'm A Director
Chapter 398: Looks Are Justice!
The changes Shinji Matou brought to the film industry were not limited to soaring box office numbers.
He had also shortened a film's lifespan.
Before Fate/Stay Night exploded onto screens in massive wide release, a movie in most markets could comfortably run in theaters for half a year—sometimes even longer.
Now?
With Shinji's model of large-scale production paired with overwhelming promotion, theatrical windows had grown noticeably shorter.
It was one of the hidden drawbacks of blockbuster-style filmmaking.
The tidal wave of advertising drew in casual audiences, but it also forced many potential viewers into theaters early. The market burned fast and bright.
As a result, outside of one particular exception—Japan—the opening week had become more important than ever for commercial tentpoles.
In many fast-paced markets, the first weekend alone could account for one-third to even one-half of a film's total gross.
Why was Japan the exception?
Simple.
The country only had four to five hundred cinemas in total. No matter how aggressively you pushed audiences into theaters, there were only so many seats to go around. Even if you wanted to end a run early, you physically couldn't.
"Of course, the downside of this accelerated release cycle," Robert Iger set down the briefing in his hand and looked up at his secretary inside the Disney president's office, "is that second-week momentum tends to weaken."
"Shinji Matou's films always explode on their opening weekend. Paramount's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles being suppressed doesn't surprise me at all."
"Exactly," his secretary replied smoothly. "Which is why we scheduled Cinderella for this week."
Compared to Sherry Lansing's head-on stubbornness, Robert Iger was far more calculating.
Anyone with basic market sense could predict that Fate/Apocrypha's opening weekend would be explosive. But its staying power would be limited. Competing in the second week would be far less brutal than fighting on opening weekend.
From a purely commercial standpoint, using a fresh release to attack an opponent's second week was undeniably the correct move.
Maybe it wouldn't kill much of the enemy's revenue, but at least it would protect your own.
As for why he had chosen to send Pirates of the Caribbean into a first-week collision with The Garden of Sinners?
That was about setting an example.
If Disney intended to lead the so-called "Anti–Shinji Matou Alliance," then it had to charge first.
Hollywood executives were elite opportunists, not fools waiting to be duped. If Disney didn't take the lead, no one else would follow.
Even so, Robert Iger had played a subtle trick.
He placed Cinderella in Fate/Apocrypha's second week—where the pressure would be lighter—while positioning the more expendable Pirates of the Caribbean in June as sacrificial fodder against The Garden of Sinners.
In his view, the live-action adaptation of the classic animated Cinderella clearly had stronger commercial appeal than a heavily reimagined film based on a theme park attraction.
Use the higher-expected-grossing film to fight the easier battle.
Send the riskier one to absorb damage.
Of course, "expendable" didn't mean abandonment. Promotion and resources for Pirates of the Caribbean would still be fully deployed.
After all—
What if?
The Garden of Sinners was a brand-new series. A catastrophic flop wasn't impossible… right?
Unlike Paramount's hastily assembled Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Disney's Cinderella and Pirates of the Caribbean were undeniably high-quality productions.
Though neither had officially premiered yet, Robert Iger was confident in both projects. Their baseline box office performance would be solid.
"Apocrypha didn't break seventy million dollars in North America during its opening weekend," he continued calmly.
"Based on previous box office curves, even if its second-week drop stays within a healthy fifty percent, that would still leave it at just over thirty million."
He leaned back in his chair, fingers interlocked.
The battlefield was shifting.
And the next round was about to begin.
Robert Iger clenched his fist.
"Our Cinderella will take the number-one spot back from Shinji Matou!"
Using an opening weekend to bully someone else's second weekend—calling it shameless would be generous. It was more like abandoning shame altogether.
But what choice did they have?
In recent years, whenever a new Shinji Matou film premiered, the box office crown for the following four weeks would inevitably belong to him.
Even if the victory wasn't honorable, it didn't matter. North American studios desperately needed a win to boost morale.
Robert Iger had already seen the rough cut of Cinderella. While faithfully restoring the classic animated film, it was also packed with market-pleasing elements and crowd-friendly beats learned—yes, learned—from Shinji.
If not for the monstrous competition of Fate/Apocrypha, he was confident Cinderella could open north of $30 million.
"Forty million!"
He slammed the table, voice sharp with command.
"Tell everyone downstairs—we only need forty million dollars. With that, we defeat Shinji Matou and Fate/Apocrypha! They must make it happen!"
"Understood."
The secretary nodded slowly. He didn't think the demand was unreasonable.
Disney's North American distribution network was in no way inferior to Times Group's. With the blessing of the Cinderella IP, how could they possibly lose to Fate/Apocrypha's second week?
If that happened…
Just how terrifying would Shinji Matou have to be to remain undefeated?
There was no way Cinderella's opening weekend would fail to cross $40 million.
Both Iger and his secretary were brimming with confidence. How could a live-action remake of such a timeless animated classic possibly fail to attract audiences?
If Disney hadn't squeezed the IP dry over the past few years—releasing every conceivable DVD version under the sun—the secretary might even have believed that simply re-screening the original animated film could hit $40 million.
Carrying out orders in his boss's name, the secretary radiated unrestrained arrogance.
The live-action Cinderella would exceed expectations.
He believed that wholeheartedly.
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"Classics are wonderful things,"
In Fuyuki City, Shinji Matou folded the newspaper in his hands and set it on the table. Across from him, Jeanne watched with curious eyes as he continued leisurely,
"But sometimes, a classic can be too classic."
Jeanne rested her chin on one hand, golden eyes fixed on him.
"For example?"
"For example, Disney's classic animated films. Despite the limitations of their era, they're already close to perfection. And that's precisely the problem."
Shinji shook his head lightly and took a sip of water before continuing.
"Because they're so perfect, once you adapt them into live action, audiences will inevitably compare them to the original animation."
He glanced at her meaningfully.
"It's like how, the moment you appeared on screen, people started comparing you to Arturia."
Jeanne's delicate brows furrowed as she recalled the acting critiques she had read recently. After a moment, she nodded.
"That does seem to be the case—wait!"
She suddenly slapped the table.
"Are you saying I'm the Knight King's knockoff?!"
Shinji hurried to placate her.
"How could that be? It's just that you two resemble each other too much. Besides, who says a replica can't surpass the original? If you work hard, you can absolutely achieve results even greater than Arturia."
Jeanne stared at him, black lines practically forming over her head.
"Master… that sounded like a cool protagonist speech. And you still just called me a replica."
Shinji clicked his tongue.
"Tch. The country girl's been in the city too long—harder to fool now, huh?"
Crack
Jeanne calmly snapped off a piece of the tabletop with her fingers.
"Master~" she smiled sweetly, veins faintly pulsing at her temple. "Tu es un fils de ta mère."
Shinji blinked.
"Why are you mixing Japanese and French profanity now?"
"Hmm?"
Jeanne's brows lifted gently.
The smile remained.
The killing intent did not.
"When I said that, I meant nothing at all."
Shinji immediately activated his passive skill: The Wise Man Knows When to Yield.
Jeanne nodded in satisfaction.
"Then let's return to the topic." She tilted her head slightly, chin resting in her palm. "Master, do you really think Cinderella will turn out badly? Disney sounded extremely confident in interviews, they are talking as if the film were already a success."
"Do you expect them to say in interviews that it's guaranteed to flop?" Shinji tapped his forehead lightly and gave a wry smile. "At the end of the day, though, it's just a clumsy imitation."
"Clumsy… imitation?"
Jeanne might call herself a country girl, but she was by no means foolish—on the contrary, she learned quickly.
After thinking it over for a moment, she straightened in her chair, expression turning serious.
"Master, are you saying their film is simply a poorer version of the animated one?"
"Exactly."
Shinji nodded, sounding bored.
"If you copy the animated plot scene-for-scene—sometimes even word-for-word—what's the point of spending over a hundred million dollars on a 3D remake? What meaning does it have?"
In his previous life, Disney's wave of live-action remakes had indeed slaughtered the box office, but most were mediocre in reputation.
Only Maleficent managed to earn relatively decent praise, largely because it reinterpreted the villainess of the original fairy tale through a modern lens.
The rest?
Mostly complaints.
Especially the notorious The Lion King remake—whose greatest contribution was reminding audiences how much of a masterpiece the 2D original had been.
Perhaps Disney realized audiences would grow tired of carbon-copy remakes. So they tried to replicate the "modern fairy tale reinterpretation" approach again—resulting in controversial projects like The Black Mermaid and Snow White and the Seven Politically-Correct Companions.
Whenever he thought about it, Shinji felt conflicted.
Should he regret transmigrating too early—or feel grateful?
Grateful that he never had to "wash his eyes."
Regretful that he never got to see the final box office numbers… and Disney coughing up blood from the losses.
As for casting controversies, Shinji considered himself relatively open-minded.
His philosophy was simple: reciprocity.
If you believe there can be a Black Ariel and a Latina Snow White, then you must also accept a white Black Panther and a white Cyborg.
If you can agree to that, then we can talk.
What he truly despised were those who only wanted to benefit, never to concede—those who played both sides while claiming moral high ground.
But back to Cinderella.
He hadn't seen this world's finished version yet. Based on the one from his previous life, however, there was only one phrase he could use to describe it:
"Unremarkable."
Not the meme-worthy "unremarkable" used ironically.
Truly unremarkable.
The fact that it was rarely mentioned among Disney's live-action slate said everything. It lacked distinctive flaws, but it lacked distinctive brilliance too.
Though, to be fair, it still made Disney a tidy profit.
Jeanne sighed softly.
"Even if it's a clumsy imitation, with the animated version as its foundation, it shouldn't be too bad, right?"
Fate/Apocrypha was her first film.
Naturally, she wanted it to succeed spectacularly.
"I don't know the exact production quality of their version," Shinji replied gently, a faint smile forming on his lips. "But I do know one thing."
"Our Fate/Apocrypha has an absolute advantage."
"Eh? We do?"
Jeanne blinked in curiosity.
Shinji raised a finger and pointed directly at her.
"It's you. Our female lead is prettier than theirs."
After all, everything is relative.
With Jeanne's breathtaking beauty on screen, could the Cinderella of that film truly convince audiences she was the kind of woman a prince would fall hopelessly in love with at first sight?
And it wasn't as if Fate/Apocrypha only had Jeanne carrying the visual appeal.
There was Semiramis.
There was Mordred.
There was Astolfo.
Yes, even Astolfo.
As the saying goes, when beauty charges the battlefield, even perverts retreat in defeat.
No one can resist a shy, adorable, beautiful girl.
Boys—no, humanity as a whole—have always been creatures driven by appearances.
For a film centered on a female protagonist, if the lead of Cinderella failed to convince visually, then half the movie had already collapsed before the audience even sat down.
If there was one thing Cinderella might have over Fate/Apocrypha, perhaps it was the pure "princess fantasy" vibe—a sense of girlish romance that the women of Fate/Apocrypha collectively lacked.
But that alone wasn't enough.
"So," Shinji said, resting his chin on interlocked fingers in a classic Gendo-pose,
"For our next promotional focus…"
A faint, mischievous smile tugged at his lips.
"We're going to weaponize the beauty of you and the other actresses. Let Disney understand that the so-called princess they cast… doesn't quite measure up."
Using looks to bully someone was undeniably bad karma.
But since the target was Disney, Shinji's sense of guilt evaporated instantly.
And it wasn't even necessary to insult the actress directly.
All he had to do was ensure Jeanne and the others appeared on the same screen as the girl playing Cinderella as often as possible.
Who looked better?
The audience would decide for themselves.
After all, a certain unnamed black-and-yellow website's click rankings had already proven one thing—
People can shout slogans all they like.
But when it comes time to actually choose?
They still click on the prettier face.
"Jeanne, you're beautiful. That's your advantage," Shinji said firmly. "From here on out, you're going to maximize it. I want audiences around the world to be utterly captivated by your charm."
"Fufu~~~ Master, you do have good taste after all~"
Jeanne blinked playfully, lips curling upward in satisfaction.
"So I really am prettier than that British Knight King, right?"
Shinji muttered under his breath,
"You two look exactly the same…"
"Hmm?"
Jeanne's golden brows arched slowly.
The air temperature dropped by several degrees.
Shinji immediately straightened his posture.
"I meant—your aura is different! Completely different! Yours is radiant and saintly, hers is stoic and kingly. Entirely separate appeal!"
Jeanne stared at him for a long second.
Then, finally, she smiled.
Shinji silently activated The Wise Man Knows When to Yield once more.
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Tn: I updated the story once every 2 days, but if you want to see more chapter of this story ahead of time, please go to my Patreon.
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