The filming of the movie took nearly a full year, during which Takayuki would occasionally visit to check on progress.
Creating a Ready Player One movie in this world held significant meaning.
It would help more people understand the true appeal of video games.
He remembered that in his past life, some people who had never played games before changed their perspective after watching this film.
That movie, directed by Spielberg — a top-tier director — had also served as a kind of cultural validation.
Seeing such a respected industry leader praise video games gave them legitimacy in the eyes of many.
Naturally, Takayuki also had a few conversations with Jesse Hormier.
Though there was a 30-year age gap between them, their thinking and creative philosophies were remarkably forward-thinking. Sparks flew in their exchanges.
This world had its unique qualities, and so did the previous one. Takayuki shared insights from the original world with Jesse, while Jesse generously shared his 70+ years of life experience. Their collaboration led to many new creative ideas.
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Takayuki quickly began incorporating these ideas into a new game project already in the planning stages.
Even while the film was being made, Takayuki didn't sit idle — he was never one to just relax.
As he put it: "I'll consider retiring only after I've seen this world produce a number of true masterworks."
Until then, he would continue being a "courier between two worlds," bringing the best games from his old world into this one.
With luck, he might even live to see a real metaverse — not the cash-grabbing version his original world was stuck with.
Then, the three films — Ready Player One, Metal Gear, and Uncharted — were ready for release.
To avoid internal competition, the three movies were scheduled for release one week apart.
The first to debut was Uncharted, filmed with the original game team.
As the release approached, promotional efforts ramped up. Gamestar Electronic Entertainment naturally took the opportunity to market the Uncharted game itself as well.
With luck, the movie might even attract non-gamers to the franchise and convert them into new players.
Plenty of cross-brand merchandise was released too.
With the game's popularity and a few well-known actors added to the film, Uncharted appealed beyond the gaming crowd — and the merchandise sold well.
For example, a Drake-themed commemorative pocket watch, produced at a cost of $10 each, could be sold for $50–60 with Uncharted branding.
A simple movie poster that cost mere cents to print could retail for $10. High margin, high profit.
Just from these merchandise sales, they recouped several million dollars — surprising even Tokarev.
The movie hadn't even premiered yet, and merchandise sales were already performing better than the average film series' opening week.
However, most of the profits went to Gamestar Electronic Entertainment. Tokarev only had the adaptation rights, though he did get a small share of merchandise revenue.
To boost the film's public profile, Tokarev also asked Takayuki to attend the premiere — just to make an appearance. Since Gamestar was also benefiting financially from the film, Takayuki agreed readily. It was a film based on one of his own IPs, after all.
In its first week, Uncharted pulled in nearly $200 million at the box office. No surprise — the production costs would be covered.
And that was just the beginning.
After Uncharted's first week, Metal Gear premiered. It brought in $230 million during its first week.
Clearly, audiences still preferred spy thrillers with large-scale action. Treasure-hunting films like Uncharted were starting to feel a bit outdated.
Then came the third week — the premiere of Ready Player One.
Takayuki had treated the Uncharted and Metal Gear films as goodwill adaptations. He didn't care too much about how well they performed.
But Ready Player One was different.
Beyond the various video game IPs embedded in the story, this film introduced a cyberpunk world — laying the groundwork for promoting Cyberpunk 2077.
More importantly, like in his original world, Takayuki hoped this movie would open the eyes of non-gamers and show them how video games were shaping the modern era.
"I just don't get it. You love video games that much? The first time you take your old man to a movie, and it's one about video games?"
In front of a movie theater in a U.S. city, a massive Ready Player One billboard stood tall, catching the attention of everyone who passed by.
A man in his fifties and a teenager around 17 or 18 stood in front of it.
The older man was Jimmy, editor-in-chief of a film critique magazine.
He really didn't want to be there.
He'd been disgusted by all the video game hype lately. It felt humiliating.
Even though his anti-game campaigns hadn't made much impact, he still felt embarrassed and didn't want to see "that dumb movie."
But his son insisted. He said his outdated dad had to come and experience the power of video games.
Jimmy could ignore the appeal of games — but he couldn't say no to the son he deeply doted on.
The giant Ready Player One billboard featured a hyper-realistic virtual human figure, fully computer-generated.
The design was clever — realistic enough to look lifelike, but exaggerated in certain proportions to avoid the uncanny valley effect.
The uncanny valley refers to the discomfort humans feel when something looks almost human, but not quite right. It creates subconscious aversion.
The character designs on the billboard were crafted specifically to avoid that — making sure viewers wouldn't feel uneasy at first glance, and thus wouldn't dismiss the movie before even watching it.
At the bottom of the billboard, a line of text read:
"Thank you for watching. We hope this movie helps you rediscover the magic of video games."