These days, three-legged Pokémon might be hard to find, but two-legged humans were still in no short supply.
The directing profession sounded lofty and glamorous, but once Edward started digging into it, he quickly realized that even just in the Hoenn Region, there were tens of thousands of registered directors—some famous, some not, and quite a few who had made a short film and immediately declared themselves directors.
Over 30,000 directors. And that was just Hoenn. If you included the entire Pokémon League world, the number would be astronomical.
"Boss, here's a list of directors with availability and a bit of a name."
Zoroark handed Edward a thick stack of resumes. These were all directors currently between projects and open to taking on a new film.
Edward casually flipped through the list.
Sure enough—he didn't recognize a single one of these so-called "famous" directors.
But that wasn't surprising. Even among 30,000, the "famous" ones were still only relatively well-known. Some specialized in commercials, some in documentaries, and Edward even saw a few who had worked in… wedding videography.
Wedding directors.
Who knew weddings had their own directors now? The way modern job categories were structured was seriously strange.
Midway through the list, Edward finally saw a name he vaguely recognized.
This particular director had made two feature-length films that had earned average box office results. His directing style was considered unusual, and the industry's consensus was that he should be making arthouse films.
Edward only remembered him because his style was so odd and distinctive—very postmodern, with a strong "art-for-art's-sake" flavor. The kind of film no one really understood.
"Can we find any of his previous work?" Edward asked, pointing at the name. Zoroark glanced at the list, made a curious face, and quickly pulled up one of the director's works on a video platform.
The Bridges of Madison County.
"…?"
Edward slowly typed out a question mark in his mind.
Is this guy another transmigrator?
But once he actually watched the film—nervously, bracing for something uncanny—he realized he was mistaken.
Though it shared the same title as the famous movie from his previous life, this version had a completely different plot. The inclusion of Pokémon made the story even harder to understand.
Edward watched the whole thing at double speed. When it ended, he finally understood why the industry kept trying to push this guy into the arthouse corner. The man clearly had ideas. His use of cinematic language was distinctive, filled with metaphors and satire. A straightforward romance movie had somehow become a biting, darkly funny piece of social commentary.
"…At least it wasn't what I thought it was." Edward let out a breath of relief. That title—The Bridges of Madison County—had truly startled him. Back in his original world, that film had sparked a huge controversy. It was one of those movies that could fuel forum arguments for hundreds of pages.
The story wasn't complicated. To summarize: a married woman in America cheats with a man, is torn between love and family, ultimately chooses her family, but regrets it in her later years. In her will, she even asks her children to scatter her ashes at the place where she first fell in love—not with her husband, but with her lover.
When the movie was released, it caused a major cultural stir.
And while it was America, it wasn't yet the chaotic mess it would become later. Many people still held traditional views on marriage. Cheating and betraying one's family were heavily condemned. Of course, others considered the film a masterpiece.
Regardless, it was a film that drew extreme opinions from both sides.
The real-world Bridges of Madison County had also sparked a wave of divorces. Countless viewers were inspired to "chase their true love" after watching the film. Whether those choices led to happiness, no one could say.
That's why Edward had been so shocked when he saw the title.
"…But I'll admit, the song was nice."
He rubbed his chin. He didn't particularly like the story, but the theme song from the original Bridges of Madison County was, to him, an eternal classic—hauntingly beautiful and timeless.
That said, the director's style absolutely didn't fit Dollhouse. His approach to storytelling would clash hard with Dollhouse's themes, resulting in a "1 + 1 = < 1" situation instead of synergy.
Still, Edward began to see this director in a new light.
Maybe this guy should make a movie like The Bridges of Madison County—a proper deep-cut drama. And even though Edward thought that story was strange, it had been a hit. It earned over 100 million at the box office. And that was in 1995. That was no small feat.
Still, due to the controversy surrounding the story, Edward didn't plan to pitch it right now. Instead, he had a different project in mind for the director:
Manchester by the Sea.
That film, Edward believed, was better suited to this guy's sensibilities.
Ghost Film Pictures had already made a big name for itself in the horror genre, but if it wanted to establish itself in the broader film industry, it needed to branch out into other genres too.
Edward didn't have the time to personally direct all those different projects—so it was time to expand his roster of directors. That way, the classic films from his past life could shine anew in this world.
Manchester by the Sea would be the stepping stone.
"Contact this director," Edward said, pulling that name from the pile and setting it aside. "Ask if he's willing to join our company."
Zoroark nodded and jotted it down.
Next, Edward continued flipping through the stack and quickly found another director—one with experience in horror films and a strong grasp of narrative tension and atmosphere. Edward thought this person might be a good fit for Dollhouse.
Of course, he'd still need to reach out and see if they were interested.
Just as Zoroark was about to leave the room, he paused and glanced at his phone. A second later, his expression changed. He quickly stepped forward.
"Boss—we just got a message from the detective we hired. They've found one of the entrance points to Team Magma's base."
Zoroark's voice was urgent.
Edward's eyes lit up.
So they'd finally located the entrance to Team Magma's hideout?
That meant it was time to deal with them—once and for all.
(End of Chapter)