As the editor-in-chief of a film review magazine, Jimmy easily obtained tickets to one of the Ready Player One premiere screenings.
The biggest benefit of attending a premiere was getting the chance to interact directly with some of the film's creators.
"Huh? The God of Games didn't show up?"
Jimmy, sitting next to his son, looked around the theater as a few of the film's cast and crew entered for a brief Q&A.
Since there were many premiere venues across the country, someone like Takayuki naturally went to the largest one. Smaller premiere events in other cities were attended by minor cast or crew, such as supporting actors or assistant directors.
"This is standard promo procedure. If you want to see the real creators, I'll take you next time."
Now was Jimmy's chance to show off his status to his son.
Sure enough, his son looked at him with admiration, which filled Jimmy with pride.
After a few brief comments from the crew, they left the stage, letting the movie begin — the real star of the evening.
...
...
The theater lights dimmed, and the screen lit up with the logos of the production companies.
Everyone was used to seeing these kinds of intros.
But this time, a special logo appeared — the official logo of Gamestar Electronic Entertainment.
It began as a game controller symbol, transforming into a meteor streaking across the sky. It lit up the screen, and the word "GAMESTAR" appeared.
"It's Gamestar! It's Gamestar!"
Jimmy's son whispered excitedly.
A few others nearby were just as excited.
They were gamers too. In fact, most of the people in the theater were gamers. People like Jimmy — indifferent to games — were the minority.
To them, this logo meant something. It triggered excitement.
Jimmy didn't get it. It was just a logo. Why all the fuss?
He even heard someone whistle just now.
Still, he reminded himself — he was here for his son. He wanted to see what all the hype was about.
Once the production logos finished, the movie officially began.
A retro-style electronic music track played — a song called JUMP.
This song didn't exist in this world. It was recreated from Takayuki's memory, with the help of several well-known musicians.
Those musicians had been surprised by how good Takayuki's musical sense was. The track fit the tone of the film perfectly — with both retro flair and artistic depth. They couldn't believe someone from the game industry had such musical talent.
As the music played, a subtitle appeared:
Columbus, Ohio — 2045 — The Stacks
The film opened on a chaotic urban landscape built from stacked shipping containers. A delivery drone zipped by overhead.
The protagonist appeared, exiting a small room. He slid down a metal pole and made his way toward the ground, passing all sorts of people doing all kinds of things.
"No surprise — Jesse's direction is so clean and focused."
Jimmy didn't understand video games, so he analyzed the film using his movie knowledge.
Jesse Hormier was a legend — a "living fossil" of the industry. His directorial technique was unmatched. Even this opening sequence demonstrated his masterful control of storytelling.
The short intro, paired with the opening text, firmly established the film's tone:
This was a near-future sci-fi story, reflecting the struggles of the lower class.
To set that up so efficiently — using only the first few minutes — was a feat few directors could manage.
"Why isn't there any gaming yet?"
Jimmy's son whispered, clearly eager to see familiar game scenes. He wasn't especially interested in the plot itself.
Jimmy replied patiently, "It's not time yet. Be patient."
"Mm… okay."
The film continued. The protagonist reached an old van in the middle of a junkyard. Inside, he had strange, futuristic gear.
"I was born in 2027. The Corn Syrup Drought and Bandwidth Riots happened before I was born…"
With that, the protagonist began narrating the state of the world.
These details weren't essential, but for those paying attention, they could be very important — laying the groundwork for potential sequels.
Most directors wouldn't bother with that, unsure if their film would even succeed, let alone get a sequel.
But for a director like Jesse, sequels were routine.
Even after several box office flops, studios would still line up to fund his projects.
So far, this didn't feel like a movie made only to please gamers. It also introduced a deep, believable world.
"As for the Arasaka Tower bombing... to me, that's just ancient history."
This line was added by Takayuki in the script. He wanted to subtly link Ready Player One's world to that of Cyberpunk 2077, dropping timeline hints that could serve as Easter eggs or setup for future films.
Of course, most people and gamers wouldn't catch the reference just yet.
Once the protagonist finished narrating the world's background, he shifted to the real hook — humanity's escape into the virtual world.
This world was called The OASIS, a place where you could be anything and do anything.
As the protagonist put on a VR headset, the camera swept into this vast digital universe.
And only then did the movie truly begin to express what it was all about.
The camera moved through various game worlds, and every time a new one appeared, the gamers in the audience cheered in delight.