I'm Not A Master, I'm A Director (Creating Fate Movie In Nasuverse)

Japanese tokusatsu and the North American film market—more specifically, the U.S. market—have always had a rather peculiar relationship.

If you say the relationship isn't great, you'd be wrong, because Japanese tokusatsu films have consistently performed quite well commercially in North America.

Although tokusatsu films have never been considered mainstream in the U.S., as the world's largest consumer market, even a small portion of the pie can be quite substantial.

But if you say the relationship is great, that's not entirely true either.

Ever since the 1954 Godzilla, nearly every tokusatsu work released in North America—whether film or television—has been "localized" in some way.

To put it in familiar terms, this is what people call the "North American exclusive version."

Simply re-editing the original footage, like they did with the old Godzilla, is actually considered a mild modification.

The preferred approach in the U.S. is to reshoot the live-action scenes with American actors while keeping the original suit-action scenes, effectively creating an entirely new production.

The most famous example of this would be the American adaptation of Super Sentai—Power Rangers.

To maintain viewership, early Power Rangers seasons didn't follow Japan's yearly reboot format. Instead, they opted to continue the same storyline, turning it into an extended drama series.

If they hadn't eventually run out of ideas, Power Rangers could have potentially surpassed long-running anime like One Piece and Detective Conan.

Since most TV stations in China imported the American version of Power Rangers, Shinji once thought it was an American tokusatsu production.

Despite its fame, Power Rangers wasn't actually the first show to adopt the "American actors, Japanese suit-action" formula.

As early as the 1962 version of King Kong vs. Godzilla, North American distributors had already done the same thing.

There's been a long-standing rumor on Chinese internet that the original King Kong vs. Godzilla had two versions—one where King Kong wins in Japan, and one where Godzilla wins in the U.S.

But this is nothing more than a baseless myth.

Yes, an American version does exist, but the idea that the ending differs is completely false.

The truth is, Hollywood reshot a large portion of the human scenes, making the two versions significantly different—except for the suit-action sequences, which remained untouched.

Even in the American version, King Kong still emerges victorious in the end. There's no alternate Godzilla victory ending.

In fact, the American version didn't glorify Godzilla; it actually downplayed him, portraying him as a mindless lizard while emphasizing King Kong's intelligence.

Their reasoning was to create an impression that both monsters were evenly matched, building suspense for the final showdown.

Conversely, the Japanese version built up Godzilla's strength in the early stages, portraying King Kong as the underdog, which made his eventual victory more satisfying—similar to how Goku struggled against Frieza in Dragon Ball before transforming into a Super Saiyan.

From Shinji's perspective, despite sharing the same action scenes, the Japanese and American versions of King Kong vs. Godzilla might as well be considered two entirely different films.

The disparity in human scenes resulted in vastly different film cores.

The Japanese version's human plot was filled with absurd satire on Japan's extravagant consumerist culture of the time.

Meanwhile, the American version took a much more serious tone, focusing heavily on the dangers the two giant monsters posed to human society.

The most representative difference between the two was the scene where King Kong was denied entry into Japan.

In the Japanese version, he was stopped because he was considered smuggled goods that hadn't been taxed.

In the American version, the reason was simply that "King Kong is too dangerous."

These two different takes on King Kong vs. Godzilla reflect the contrasting attitudes of Japan and North America towards tokusatsu films.

North American audiences don't care for the social commentary often found in Japanese tokusatsu films.

They just want to see monsters and heroes fighting in rubber suits.

Audience surveys from back then confirmed this sentiment.

Despite the American version being filled with dull, dry news reports, most Western viewers still preferred it.

After all, why would American audiences care about Japan's social issues?

Perhaps this explains why Ultraman is the least popular of the "Big Three" tokusatsu series in the West.

Shinji understood the differences between the Japanese and North American film markets, but that didn't justify the demand to reshoot the human scenes in Super 8.

Sure, his version of Super 8 was filled with nostalgic elements, but its overall storyline followed a classic Hollywood superhero formula.

He didn't see any reason to redo it with Western actors.

"Even if Western actors would create a stronger connection with the audience, the core of Super 8 is about the nostalgia of old-school heroes. Changing the cast doesn't make sense, does it?"

Hearing Shinji's rebuttal, Cloris shrugged indifferently.

"That nostalgia only resonates with East Asian audiences, not Western ones. As long as the core remains 'villains invade, heroes fight back,' Western audiences won't care who plays the roles."

Seeing the look in Shinji's eyes, Cloris quickly added, "That's not my opinion—it's what one of the shareholders suggested."

Shinji clicked his tongue in annoyance.

If he hadn't gotten involved, Super 8 would probably have ended up being altered like this before it even reached the U.S. market.

"Those Americans are criticizing the film without even watching it?!"

"Americans?"

Cloris raised an eyebrow, giving Shinji an amused yet judgmental look.

Shinji's heart skipped a beat, realizing his slip-up.

He quickly brushed past the problematic phrasing and continued,

"Just because Japanese tokusatsu films have been reshot before in North America doesn't mean we have to do the same thing for Super 8. What's the point of blindly following past trends?!"

Cloris leaned against the couch, smirking with disdain.

"Hollywood executives are just a bunch of lazy parasites who don't want to think. They just want to copy past successes and coast by—you should know that by now."

"Either way, I'm not reshooting the human scenes."

Shinji stated firmly.

If this had happened before his Fate/stay night movie took off, he might have actually considered making some changes to please the distributors.

Back then, he was just an unknown rookie, and as long as their requests weren't too unreasonable, he would have complied.

Now that things are different, Shinji isn't just any director; he's at least a major commercial filmmaker, if not the best in the world.

With Fate/Zero currently holding the top spot at the global box office, Shinji has the leverage to negotiate.

No—more than that.

"Lissy, go tell those old geezers at your company that I'm not doing a reshoot," Shinji said, squinting his eyes with a cold expression.

"I figured as much," Cloris sighed helplessly, resting her cheek on her hand. "But at least give them a somewhat reasonable excuse, will you? You can't leave them without any way to save face."

"...Is that so? Well then."

After a brief moment of thought, Shinji replied, "The movie was shot using new 3D technology. If we reshoot the live-action segments, the additional costs would be too high."

Cloris didn't respond immediately. She picked up her phone and made a quick call.

After a short exchange, she turned to Shinji and said, "The old guys reluctantly accepted your reason, but they have a new condition."

At this, Cloris's eyes twinkled with amusement, and a sly, playful smile appeared on her lips.

"Sony Columbia is co-producing Godzilla with Toho, and its release date is close to Super 8. The old guys say your movie must beat Godzilla at the box office—not just in North America, but worldwide."

"If you fail, your influence will have to be suppressed going forward. So? Think you can do it?"

Noticing the sly glint in Cloris's crimson eyes, Shinji snorted in exasperation.

"This was your real goal all along, wasn't it?"

Shinji crossed his arms and complained.

"It has nothing to do with me," Cloris replied, tapping her lips playfully. "I'm just here to comfort the poor director who loses the bet with my... body."

"Your dirty jokes aren't funny at all."

"So, what's your answer?"

With a confident smile, Shinji stood up and high-fived Cloris.

"Interesting. I accept the bet."

'Going up against a doomed film? This is a guaranteed win!'

Shinji thought smugly.

According to his sources, the Toho-Sony Godzilla movie was almost a replica of the 1998 version from his previous life—the one that got torn apart by critics.

In terms of concept and story outline, there weren't many differences.

To be fair, while the '98 Godzilla had plenty of flaws, it was fundamentally a decent disaster movie. If it hadn't been overshadowed by Jurassic Park, its visual effects would have at least broken even at the box office.

But the 1998 version was directed by Roland Emmerich, a master of disaster films, while in this world, Toho and Sony had hired David Fincher.

David Fincher wasn't lacking in fame—he was already well-known even in Shinji's previous life—but he was best known for his slow-paced, artistic thrillers.

The only big-budget commercial movie Fincher ever directed in Shinji's past life was Alien 3...

Regardless of its quality, that movie's failure meant Fincher was never trusted with a blockbuster again.

With all that in mind, Shinji was absolutely certain he wouldn't lose.

"Victory is guaran—"

'Crap, crap, I shouldn't tempt Murphy law.'

Seeing Shinji's odd behavior, Jeanne, the female lead resting beside him, tilted her head curiously.

"Master, are you having another episode? If you're sick, go see a doctor. Don't keep it bottled up."

"Shut up," Shinji waved her off irritably. "Instead of arguing with me, why don't you focus on how to eat more cutely in the next scene?"

Since he was confident of victory, Shinji didn't plan to change his original approach for the bet.

Once the final post-production phase of Super 8 was secured, he continued working on the first part of Fate/Apocrypha.

"Jeanne," Shinji called to the saint, "I got you some new snacks. Give them a try."

"Master, do I really have to keep eating...?"

Jeanne looked exasperated, with dark lines forming on her forehead.

The extra "foodie" trait Shinji had added to her character was driving her crazy.

"I think having you snack more often will make your saintly character seem cuter and more youthful in the audience's eyes."

That's what Shinji had confidently told her during direction.

And she almost believed him—if not for the fact that she knew Arturia was a notorious glutton.

"Hmph, Master, you're just giving me the same trait because we look alike! I'm not some replacement for that British woman!"

Jeanne pouted, waving her tiny fists in protest.

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