I'm Not A Master, I'm A Director
Chapter 379: Shinji: When You Hold the Right to Explain the Setting, What You Say Goes
This pre-battle speech by Jeanne was, naturally, Shinji's homage to the classic blockbuster Independence Day.
As for the actual content of the speech, Shinji drew inspiration from the finale of Fate/Grand Order, where Heroic Spirits gather and Jeanne delivers her rousing address before the final battle.
For a commercial film to succeed, clearly telling its story is only the bare minimum. A movie that can't stir emotions will never be a truly great blockbuster.
After all, what "emotional manipulation" really means is stirring the audience's feelings. Whether it's exhilarating action scenes, explosive set pieces, or this kind of blood-pumping pre-battle speech, the goal is always the same: to ignite resonance. To make most people who walk into the theater feel good. To feel exhilarated. To feel satisfied.
If a commercial film can't give its audience that rush, how can it expect them to happily open their wallets?
Real life is already exhausting enough. People go to the movies precisely because they want to feel happy—to enjoy themselves, to blow off steam.
If you don't let the audience have a good, cathartic time, then don't expect the box office to treat you kindly either.
That's why, no matter how desperate or hopeless the final battle is portrayed, justice—represented by the protagonist—will inevitably defeat the evil embodied by the antagonist.
Putting aside obscure or deliberately avant-garde art films, as long as the protagonist stands on the side of justice, the ending of a movie will always be justice triumphing over evil.
The reason is simple: "justice defeats evil" is the most basic form of catharsis in a commercial film.
While watching a movie, audiences project their emotions onto the protagonist for the vast majority of the runtime.
And if that's the case, then if the righteous protagonist—essentially the audience themselves—fails to win in the end, wouldn't that mean the movie failed to serve its viewers properly?
No matter how charismatic the villain is, no matter how many justifications he has, no matter how tragic his backstory might be, once he's positioned as the antagonist, he absolutely cannot win. Because the villain's stance fundamentally opposes that of the audience.
This is precisely why the snap ending of Avengers: Infinity War was such a bold move by Marvel. They actually let Thanos achieve his goal at the end.
Marvel dared to do this for two reasons. First, Infinity War is told largely from Thanos's perspective, he feels even more like the protagonist than the Avengers themselves.
Second, Marvel had already officially announced the existence of Avengers 4. The audience knew full well that Thanos only won the first half. There was still a second round to come.
When it comes to teasing and hooking fans, Marvel really knows how to play the game.
Compared to the purple sweet-potato Titan, Amakusa didn't get nearly the same treatment.
Fate/Apocrypha doesn't have a "Part One" and "Part Two." Shirou Amakusa's story was destined to end within this single film.
And so, naturally, the movie had to conclude with his defeat.
As mentioned before, Amakusa's choice bears some resemblance to Thanos's. Both of them made what they believed to be the "right" decision on behalf of everyone else, only to end up inflicting suffering on all.
Thanos wiped out half the universe in the most literal sense.
Amakusa, on the other hand, sought to erase all differences and desires, forcibly imposing a so-called peace.
Not only is Amakusa's approach utterly inhuman, it also robs human civilization of any future. As a result, the vast majority of ordinary viewers would naturally stand on Jeanne's side.
Well… that's how ordinary viewers see it. As for magi—
"Materialization of the soul… the Third Magic, huh…"
Kayneth stroked his chin and mused.
"Waver, has the Holy Grail of Fuyuki City truly fallen so far? Even if it can't materialize everyone's soul, couldn't it at least do it for a single person?"
At heart, Kayneth was still a traditional magus. Reaching the Root and becoming a Magician were temptations far too great for him to ignore.
Compared to his teacher, Waver was much calmer.
"Professor, if it were really possible to achieve something like that," Waver said evenly, "then why wouldn't Shinji Matou try it himself?"
"Uh…"
"Even if Shinji himself wasn't interested," Waver continued, "he could've let someone else in the Matou family use the Grail instead."
Putting himself in Shinji's shoes, Waver used the simplest logic to dispel Kayneth's unrealistic hopes.
"Shinji Matou is still a magus. If contacting the Root were truly possible, he would've done it long ago."
Waver didn't know that, for a certain transmigrator, the thing he feared most was standing face to face with the Root of this world.
Terrified that the Root might treat him as a bug—or worse, a virus in the system—and promptly delete him, he had always stayed as far away as possible from the very dream all magi longed for.
However, Kayneth himself accepted Waver's explanation without suspicion.
Like Alice, he let out a regretful sigh.
"So that's how it is… what a pity…"
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On the big screen, after Jeanne's speech ended, the story didn't immediately jump to her assault on the Hanging Gardens.
Instead, the camera shifted inside the Hanging Gardens, focusing on Amakusa and the Empress.
Amakusa didn't enjoy the privilege Thanos had—surviving into a second movie—but Shinji still chose to preserve parts of his backstory.
Though limited, Shinji was more than happy to use a few carefully arranged scenes—much like Infinity War did—to give the character more depth and a richer motivation.
Thus, the audience was shown Amakusa wandering the human world after the end of the Third Holy Grail War.
They came to understand why he made such a choice. It wasn't only because of what he experienced in life, but also because of the countless modern battlefields he personally witnessed.
Having seen too many partings of life and death, having felt the suffering of too many innocent people, the kind-hearted Amakusa chose to create a world without conflict, without death, and without desire.
Knowing all too well the depths of human greed, he believed that only by completely erasing humanity's desires could true peace ever be achieved.
"This… is my one and only wish."
Inside the Hanging Gardens, Amakusa explained his plan to the last two remaining Servants of the Red faction—Semiramis and Shakespeare.
"Doing something like this doesn't really benefit you at all, does it?" Shakespeare asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Of course it does," Amakusa replied. "For me, saving humanity is the greatest joy there is."
A faint, gentle smile appeared on Amakusa's face.
From that smile, Shakespeare sensed the breadth of his heart. Amakusa wasn't using the Holy Grail for selfish desires—this couldn't even be called self-satisfaction.
The man before him truly wished, from the bottom of his heart, to save humanity.
"Hmph~"
Shakespeare realized that he felt a trace of admiration for such a foolishly straightforward wish.
Come to think of it, despite having written countless stories, he had never once made a saint like this the protagonist.
"I wouldn't say I admire you," Shakespeare said with a slight nod, "but you've certainly piqued my interest."
Previously, he had joined Amakusa's side purely out of "Anglo-French friendship," just to trip Jeanne up.
But now, Shakespeare decided to stay, simply to witness the ending of the man named Shirou Amakusa Tokisada.
Hearing that Shakespeare actually acknowledged him, Amakusa's saintly, restrained smile transformed into the bright, energetic grin of a boy.
"Thank you. Really… I'm glad you're willing to stay by my side until the end."
Shakespeare returned the smile.
"Well, I'm already dead. Whether you succeed or fail, things can't get any worse for me. In that case, why not go a little crazy alongside you, the story's protagonist?"
"What are you smugly analyzing over there, you impoverished hack of a writer?"
As Shakespeare and Amakusa reached a mutual understanding, Semiramis fixed Shakespeare with a sharp glare.
These two boys had bonded over the idea that "men are boys until the day they die," and as the only woman in the group, she was thoroughly displeased.
Sensing the tension in the air, Amakusa quickly spoke up.
"Since Caster has officially joined us, I'll go check on the status of the Holy Grail."
With that, he turned and walked away.
Watching his back disappear, Semiramis shifted her gaze toward Shakespeare, her eyes tinged with hostility.
"What is it, Miss Empress?" Shakespeare asked.
'What do you mean, what is it? You'd better straighten out your attitude. Don't forget, your Command Spell—"
"This has nothing to do with Command Spells, does it?" Shakespeare interrupted, laughing as he twirled the quill in his hand.
"If you used a Command Spell, I'd obey, of course. But what I really want is to understand that man more deeply."
Seeing his attitude, the Empress clicked her tongue in annoyance.
That's right.
Semiramis was jealous.
No matter how much she admired Amakusa, there was no way she could become his "bro" the way Shakespeare did.
"What a hopelessly self-centered man," she muttered.
"Call it whatever you like." Shakespeare raised an eyebrow slightly. "Relax. Even though I'm British, I've got no interest in stealing your Master from you."
"W-What—?!"
That single sentence completely shattered the Empress's usual air of composure. She panicked instantly.
"It's that, isn't it?" Shakespeare continued teasingly. "Your feelings for him."
"Y-You're talking nonsense!"
Perhaps out of sheer embarrassment, Semiramis deliberately turned her face away. Still, the faint blush spreading across her cheeks betrayed what she was really thinking.
Her reaction amused Shakespeare even more, confirming his suspicions. He threw his head back and laughed heartily.
"How fascinating. To think that an Empress who toys with schemes and conspiracies at will, who pursues power with the cruelty of an ant queen, would have such an adorable side."
"..."
This time, Semiramis didn't bother arguing.
She raised her head and fired a light blast without hesitation.
Boom!
It may have been the reflexive attack of a flustered maiden, but after Shakespeare dodged it, the blast slammed into the floor and blew out a massive crater.
"Hey now, Miss Empress," Shakespeare said, a bead of cold sweat sliding down his temple.
"Are you being serious right now?"
She shot him a disdainful glance.
"What do you think?"
"I was just joking…"
Just as Shakespeare was backing down, an explosion suddenly erupted beneath the hall they were in.
With a deafening roar, the entire Hanging Gardens shook violently.
Grabbing onto a pillar for balance, Shakespeare shouted in protest, "Miss Empress, isn't this a bit of an overreaction?! I told you it was just a joke!"
"No. That wasn't me," Semiramis replied coldly. "It's an enemy attack. They're here."
Her eyes narrowed as she stared outside the hall, her expression grave.
"Oh~ they've finally arrived, the Saint!"
Unlike Semiramis's seriousness, Shakespeare burst into laughter, sprang to his feet, and dashed toward the exit.
To him, the other enemies were irrelevant. The only one he cared about was that French woman.
"So they've finally come…"
Compared to Shakespeare's excitement, Semiramis appeared rather calm.
She walked over and seated herself upon the throne, then projected the outside scenery onto the ceiling—and her expression froze.
In the pitch-black night sky, a magnificent griffin screeched as it charged toward the Hanging Gardens. Riding upon its back was Jeanne.
Of course, Jeanne riding a winged, eagle-headed, horse-bodied beast wasn't the shocking part.
What truly stunned the Empress were the two F-15 fighter jets escorting the creature.
If she looked closely, she would notice that a fully armored knight stood atop each aircraft.
"…What is this supposed to be?"
The Empress frowned slightly. She had no idea what that Saint was plotting, but one thing was clear: she had to attack and shoot down those three unidentified flying objects.
Without hesitation, she activated the Hanging Gardens' defensive systems and launched an assault on the griffin and the fighters.
The jet-black slabs positioned around the Gardens—each over twenty meters long—unfolded all at once.
These were the Gardens' floating cannons: "Tiamtum Umu."
Moving at tremendous speed, they surrounded Jeanne's group and unleashed a relentless barrage.
A fierce aerial battle had begun.
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"I have to say, Master is always unbelievably good at saving money."
Outside the screen, Arturia nodded repeatedly as she complained.
There were so many fighter jets in the 1990s, so why did the movie specifically feature F-15s?
If you asked a Fate fan, there was an eighty-percent chance they'd reply, "It's totally a reference!"
After all, Fate/Zero had two F-15Js fighting the sea monster. Now Fate/Apocrypha showed two more F-15s of the same type—clearly a homage!
Of course, Arturia, who had taken part in some of the filming, knew the truth.
Shinji was just trying to save money by reusing props from the Fate/Zero production.
That was because, in the original Fate/Apocrypha script before filming, there were no fighter jets at all, only Jeanne charging in head-on on horseback.
However, after finishing this segment, no matter how Shinji edited it, he felt that it still wasn't hype enough.
So he added two fighter jets.
And for good measure, he even assigned them pilots: Astolfo and Mordred.
Since this was a last-minute addition, Shinji chose the most economical solution. To save both prop costs and production time, he went straight to the prop warehouse, pulled out the long-neglected F-15J fighter jet models gathering dust, touched them up a bit, repainted them, and sent them onto the screen in Fate/Apocrypha wearing the familiar F-15 silhouette.
In the final, officially approved version of the story, these two fighter jets were "borrowed" by Sisigou from a nearby NATO military base.
Astolfo and Mordred, the two Servants, used their Riding skill to control the aircraft, while standing on top of them.
Much like Lancelot's Noble Phantasm "Knight of Owner," as long as there was a flow of magical energy between the Servant and the aircraft, the Riding skill could still be activated, even if they were literally standing on the plane.
As for the theoretical basis… naturally, it came from Saber's explanation of the Riding skill back in Fate/Zero:
"Anything that can be ridden—once I mount it and grasp the reins, I can quickly adapt and take control."
So then, is it really that easy for Heroic Spirits to use Riding to pilot fighter jets?
Does NATO actually have a military base in Romania?
And did NATO even deploy F-15 fighters during that time period?
All of those painstakingly specific setting questions were neatly blurred away by Shinji with a single phrase:
"Of course."
After all, when you hold the authority to explain the setting, what you say goes.
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