Steven said the preview was a family-oriented event held during the day, so we could dress casually.
“I prepared a dress and a tuxedo, but it’s a shame they said to come in casual clothes.”
“It seems they’re not making it too formal since it’s mostly a cartoon movie that kids watch.”
Mom, who had been excited about wearing a dress for the first time in a while, looked disappointed at the news of dressing comfortably.
Having been an actress in Korea, Mom had been looking forward to walking the Hollywood red carpet, but hearing the dress code made her sulky.
“Still, you’ll get to meet Hollywood actors. I’ll make sure you wear it on the red carpet at another movie premiere.”
Seeing Mom’s disappointed face, I wanted to do something filial for her.
Dad had already played a round at Pebble Beach with Tiger Woods, which was plenty of filial piety, but I hadn’t done anything special for Mom.
“Just hearing that makes me grateful. I can wear the dress at Dad’s hospital party at the end of the year, so don’t worry too much. I prepared clothes for you and Jaeeun too—that’s why I’m a little disappointed.”
James felt a slight regret as well, but when we arrived at the El Capitan Theatre in Hollywood, Los Angeles for the preview, most attendees were dressed casually.
“Good thing we didn’t wear dresses—we would’ve stood out badly.”
“Everyone’s dressed so comfortably, aren’t they?”
Although Toy Story would become the number-one box office hit of the year, as Pixar’s very first animated feature, it hadn’t yet garnered much attention.
Still, more than a dozen reporters were there with cameras, filming the guests entering the theater.
“Oppa, look—there’s Tom Hanks and Tim Allen.”
“Those two did the voice acting for the main characters.”
“This is my first time seeing American movie stars, and they’re all kinda ugly.”
Tom Hanks had recently risen to stardom with Forrest Gump, but while his acting was outstanding, calling him a handsome leading man was a bit of a stretch.
Tim Allen, who voiced Buzz, was a character actor, and most of the voice cast had distinctive rather than conventionally attractive looks.
Instead, James’s family—the only Asians at the preview and strikingly good-looking—drew attention.
“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, but you’re far more beautiful than James described.”
“Hello. I’m Hee-jung Kim. I’ve heard a lot about you from James.”
“We really enjoyed the kimchi you sent. Thank you.”
Steven Jobs spotted James’s family and approached first to greet them.
He had met Dad and James several times before, but this was the first time meeting Mom and the younger sister, so he was unusually warm and friendly.
“Congratulations. The day of official release has finally come. It’s the fruit of chasing a dream for over ten years.”
“Thank you. A lot has happened in that time.”
Unlike his usual sharp demeanor, Jobs wore a wistful expression.
After being ousted from the Apple he founded, Jobs ran NeXT—a high-performance graphics machine company—and acquired Pixar from Lucas, who urgently needed alimony money.
At first, he planned to sell 3D rendering computers and software, but he fell in love with the charm of the animations created for promotion.
With his artistic temperament, Jobs spent the next ten years moonlighting, pouring his personal fortune into the money-eating hippopotamus that was Pixar.
He nearly went bankrupt several times and even tried to sell the company, but a final challenge came through an outsourcing contract with Disney—that challenge was Toy Story.
“Making a work with a lesson made me reflect on myself too. Toy Story isn’t just a movie made with cutting-edge technology—it’s a masterpiece with an outstanding story and characters.”
“The movie will definitely succeed.”
The stubborn lone wolf Steven Jobs had clashed many times with the artistic animation directors at Pixar, but he used those conflicts as stepping stones for growth and gained new perspective.
Recalling the past, Jobs smiled faintly when James confidently said the film would succeed.
“Of course it will succeed. That’s why I’m going public a week after release. You’ll be hit with a money shower too. Haha.”
As the second-largest shareholder in Pixar, James finished a brief greeting with Jobs and approached Tom Hanks and Tim Allen.
“Could I get your autographs here?”
“Whoa! You already got the toys before the movie’s even out. Of course I’ll sign them.”
As something of a Pixar insider, James had obtained Woody and Buzz toys in advance and brought them to the preview.
The toy company in charge of production had assumed the film would flop and made only a small batch.
When the movie became a massive hit, the released toys sold out instantly, and all stock vanished.
That’s why, in Toy Story 2, the tour guide driver says, “Back in 1995, the toy company miscalculated and didn’t have enough stock to sell.”
“Thank you. Could we take a photo together too?”
“Sure. Stand right here in the middle.”
James received signatures on both the unopened boxes and the already-opened dolls, then took photos with the two actors to prove they were genuine autographs.
“Come on, let’s take one together. Hurry over here.”
He called his hesitant younger sister, who wanted to join the photo, and they took pictures with Dad’s Leica camera.
“Thank you. The movie was so much fun. Please make a sequel too.”
“Haha. The preview hasn’t even started yet, and you’re talking like you’ve seen it.”
Talking with the young Tom Hanks, an excited James slipped up.
“Ah! I saw it in advance at Pixar headquarters. I’m close with the company CEO, Steven Jobs.”
“Ooh! You’re no ordinary little fan. Yeah. It’d be great if we could make a sequel. I felt it while recording—the animation is really well made.”
As the two most famous people at the preview, their conversation was brief before heading in to watch the film.
Though racial prejudice still lingered strongly in America, James and his family sat not in the back but in the best seats—right next to Steven Jobs.
“I dismissed it as just a cartoon, but this is truly an amazing work.”
“Oppa, so this whole movie was made with computers?”
As the first animated film ever nominated for an Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay and ascending to masterpiece status, Toy Story delivered both fun and profound lessons.
Woody, the cowboy who had been the boy’s favorite and leader of the toys, feels threatened by the new space ranger Buzz and loses his place.
Jealousy and crisis lead him to attempt petty revenge, only to fall into danger himself—until, with friends’ help, he safely returns home. The story may seem childish, but it contains elements of a hero’s journey.
Even James, who had seen it multiple times before, felt something different watching it again on the big theater screen with his family at the preview.
“It warms the heart. Mom really enjoyed it too.”
The Toy Story preview ended successfully, and unusually, the attending critics left high scores and glowing recommendations.
They offered congratulations to Jobs once more and left the venue.
Since they had come all the way to Hollywood, James’s family went shopping on Rodeo Drive, famous for luxury brands.
The crosswalk where an entertainment company CEO and a female streamer took photos in the future is still exactly the same?
The street, which would become a pilgrimage site in future Korea, looked unchanged.
Amazed by the unchanged appearance, he bought clothes for his parents and sister, then ate dinner at a high-end Beverly Hills restaurant before returning to Seattle.
“Oppa, the airplane seats are so narrow.”
“This is business class. For an elementary school kid, business class is spacious, so no complaining. Even big guys are sitting in smaller seats.”
The younger sister, who had ridden a Walmart private jet, grumbled that business class seats were narrow.
When he threatened to move her to economy if she kept complaining, Jaeeun said she’d endure the small chair.
A week after the whole family returned from Los Angeles, Thanksgiving arrived, and Toy Story officially opened in theaters.
Disney, handling distribution, had prepared a modest number of screens, but word-of-mouth spread quickly, and the number of theaters soon increased.
“The response seems good?”
“As expected. Most of the profits go to Disney, so even if the movie does well, it hurts.”
“There’s nothing we can do. Instead, we’ll make much more when it goes public.”
“For the sequel, we need to renegotiate terms more favorable to Pixar.”
Jobs, preparing for the IPO, was delighted that Toy Story’s massive success raised Pixar’s valuation, but furious that Disney took most of the film profits.
“Come to think of it, successful movies make decent money—any way to invest?”
“Tsk tsk. Out of a hundred movies, only one or two succeed. This year especially has been a box office drought—almost no profitable films.”
Though Toy Story would record the highest box office earnings this year, there weren’t really any other hits or strong competitors.
The only other film James liked that came out this year was The Usual Suspects, but it was rated R, so he couldn’t see it in theaters.
“If you want, I can introduce you to an investment firm, but I don’t recommend it. Just because you made money with software doesn’t mean you should take movie investment lightly—you’ll get burned.”
“If nothing feels right after reading the script, I just won’t invest. Please introduce me to the firm.”
Movie investment was notoriously risky, but for the regressed James, it was as easy as dot-com investments.
However, when he received a list from the film investment contact Jobs introduced, nothing particularly appealed to him.
“This one at least succeeded, but it’s so full of American jingoism I don’t feel like investing.”
At the top of the list was the sci-fi film Independence Day.
Opening on Independence Day next year, it would become the top-grossing film, earning over $300 million in the U.S. alone—with a plot where America, as the world’s number one, has the U.S. president personally pilot a fighter jet to beat up aliens.
The idea that America saves Earth, made with flashy American visual effects, succeeded at the box office, but it felt similar to future Chinese blockbusters where China saves African peace.
“No way I can invest in this.”
He read the synopsis just in case, but couldn’t bring himself to invest.
He had thought of investing in a suitable film for fun so Mom could walk the red carpet, but nothing among next year’s releases caught his eye.
“Oh! This one looks good. The budget is much lower too—only $14 million.”
Unlike Independence Day with its $75 million budget, the slasher film James chose had a modest $14 million listed, fitting for a horror movie.
“I don’t know exactly how much it earns, but since sequels keep coming out and even parodies get made, it must have done pretty well.”
The movie James chose was Scream, a teen horror film.
One of the monumental masterpieces in horror that popularized the ghostface mask, its success revived the slumping horror genre.
Having decided to invest in Scream, James was looking through documents to see how and how much he could invest when a call came to the garage.
“Hello. James? It’s Jackson from NVIDIA.”
“Jackson. Long time no talk. How’s the company doing?”