Skyfallen (2)

The never-ending story continues, so go here for the first installment.

Hi, I'm Ben Whishaw, the new-new Q, or quartermaster (we never knew that, or did we). I'm glad to combine the old donnish eccentricity of Desmond Llewelyn with the new donnish eccentricity of mainstream nerdism (computers), while discarding any pretense to step into the shoes of John Cleese, who took over from Desmond in the Bond-brand makeover that also brought about Judy Dench. It's a complete miracle what got into John's head when he got into Q's character --- he wasn't funny, he wasn't eccentric, he wasn't British, he wasn't spy-ish --- anyhow, he did so poorly that they had to ditch him and complete a few Q-less Bond installments.  Is the pun intended? --- I haven't made up my mind yet, sorry. Well, I'm here to stay.

Hi, me again. Yes, this is not the British museum, this is my other office. Just wanted to add that Michael Ampersant had a colleague at the University of Amsterdam, Michael Ellman, who came from Cambridge U. and whose look-alike contest I would win hands down. And, while we are at it, Daniel will show up on my right in a few seconds while I do some graphical representations of my algorithms ("algorithms"), and provide me with a very useful hint in pointing to a combination of letters I've furtively overlooked on the screen, thus bringing back a whiff of the old-old Bond who understood everything pronto because he was a multi-layered genius when the script needed him (to be a multi-layered genius).

Hi, I'm Bérénice Marlohe (yes, I know, modern actors' names are hopeless, this must be my real name then), so I'm  Bérénice Marlohe. Note the lipstick and the eyeliner. Yes, right, as the color coding indicates, I'm the bad Bond girl, but not as bad as in bad-bad, no, only as bad as in the ambivalent variety that will fall for Bond's charm and be punished accordingly by the omniscient Dr. No who hates illoyality like nothing else. No, lets backtrack. I will be the bad Bond girl, but at the moment I'm not a Bond girl at all, since I'm the only human of the planet who's never heard of James Bond, which will show when we get introduced in a few seconds.

Hi, this is us. We're introduced now, I'm the bad Bond girl now, and Daniel has just been served a stirred Martini without having had to ask for a stirred Martini. So even the bartender knew about Bond, stupid me. Analyze that!

Hi, me again, Bérénice, with Daniel in the background. We're sailing on a classical yacht to Dr. No's secret island. My lipstick coding has changed since I had sex with Daniel in the meantime. 

Hi, I'm Dr. No.

No, I'm not Dr No. I'm Javier Bardem, and I've played gifted psychopaths before. Here I'm already disguised as policeman, the costume of choice when you want to escape Bond's pursuit in downtown (central) London.

So, this is me again, Javier, having traveled back in time a bit (we're back on my island), where I will let my forefingers linger suggestively on Daniel's collarbone. 

Hi, Daniel again. Yes, I know, I know. I looked best ten years ago when we were in Venice and I opened the door to a taken-aback Angelina Jolie in the first Lara Croft flick, she clearly couldn't handle my physique, I was so hot, I think she really meant it (this was before she met Mr. Smith). I'm still OK though, a fact established clearly by the arousal of Javier's homosexual tendencies my-wise (sorry about the ugly postfix modifier ("wise"), but it's sort of wise-cracking isn't it?).

(Continues here)