When I was at the Tokyo Film Festival in 2014, an opportunity for an interview came up that would have made my 10-year-old heart pop with excitement. Shigeru Miyamoto, the creator of the Mario video-game franchise, had produced three whimsical animated shorts in the programme, and had made himself available to talk to the Telegraph at a towering, Lost in Translation-like hotel in the city’s Marunouchi district. Miyamoto’s standing in video-game culture is hard to overstate: in cinematic terms, think George Méliès, John Ford, Walt Disney and Steven Spielberg rolled into one. Among the subjects we covered was the common ground between films and video games, which in Miyamoto’s view was all but non-existent. He’d never regarded games as vehicles for storytelling, and saw the convergence of the two mediums as a cause for concern. Of course, he had every reason to. The original video-game film, 1993’s Super Mario Bros, was based on Miyamoto’s most beloved creation, and arguably remains the worst high-profile entry in what can only be described as a competitive field. From Lara Croft: Tomb Raider to the Resident Evil series and the latest adaptation of Mortal Kombat, Hollywood’s love affair with video games has spawned many horrible monsters over the years. Yet the studios are committed to making it work. Before the year is out, a new Resident Evil reboot will have shuffled into view, followed in February by the Indiana Jones-like Uncharted, with Tom Holland. Currently filming in eastern Europe is the Cate Blanchett and Kevin Hart-starring Borderlands, an adaptation of the dystopian first-person shooter series. Illumination Entertainment, the animation house the Minions built, has a new CG Mario feature in production for next year. Films based on such mighty gaming properties as Metal Gear Solid, Gears of War, Ghost of Tsushima, Saints Row, Just Cause and even Space Invaders – the boxy, bloopy one from 1978 – are all currently in development. Why? Because the studios regard games in the same way they do superheroes: as a vast cache of dizzyingly popular source material that could yield decades of profit, if they can only work out how to unlock it.