On 24 November 2014, Sony Pictures Entertainment was hacked, revealing the bitchy machinations of the blockbuster film-making process to the general public.
Via our *top secret* connections, we have secured this exclusive look at the creative process behind the newest Bond blockbuster, Spectre.
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RE: Minutes: SPECTRE screenwriters retreat — 27 November, 2012
Present: “JL”, “NP”,” RW”, ”JB” (not that one), “SM”, “DC”. Stenographer: Ms Crumpet-Thighsalot
SM: Well, chaps, based on these weekend box office reports, looks like we’ll need to heave another one of these limp loads of cobblers out toot-bleeding-sweet. Be a good girl and fetch us a round of double brandies, would you, Ms Crumpet-Thighsalot?
JL: Good meeting’s a quick meeting gents, let’s get cracking. Who wants to kick this off?
NP: Thanks, JL. I think he needs to meet some women in varying states of grief and emotional distress…and give them a jolly good seeing to.
JL: Yes, I suppose that’s a given, NP. But a good place to start, nonetheless. Who are these birds he rogers? And why? Psychologically. We should really ratchet up the pathos. The darkness.
RW: How about we get someone age appropriate, say, oh, I don’t know…that Italian, Monica…Bellucci is it? Put that tired old cliché of Bond not getting his end away with ‘women of a certain age’ to bed…as it were? (tee hee)
DC: (enthused) I’m liking where this is going, lads. Let’s really show the audience he’s a 21st century bloke — a chauvinist, not a misogynist. Cracking!
(Several glasses clink)
RW: And then, once we’ve gotten all those internet bores off our collective backs, he’ll ditch her immediately and fall for a Frenchie young enough to be his daughter. We’ll need to do some press where she bangs on about her undeniable sexual chemistry with DC in the lead up to release, of course.
SM: (sticking a post-it note to a whiteboard) Well, that’s that sorted then. What’s next? I suppose we should get the bloody credits sequence out of the way — they’re always a right headache.
SM: What’s that, JB?
JB: Tentacles. Thick, onyx tentacles slithering all over a nude Bond…and his Walther PPK. Like, really going at it, constricting, choking…
…and of course there’re all these confused models sort of just standing about, swaying a bit, like a Robert Palmer video. But mainly Bond. Nude. And big black tentacles.
JL: We could get that Sam Smith to do the theme — a guaranteed ‘unit shifter’, as they said in my day — he’d really help the fans appreciate how good Chris Cornell’s theme song actually was, too.
SM: Alright, yes. Tentacles. Thanks for that, JB…I s’pose we can come back to that one if we’re really desperate for something. I’ll look the Smith bloke up later. Moving right along, let’s get down to brass tacks — what’s this one all about? What’s the meat of Bond 24…? After all, this is the film that’ll lead us into the historic twenty fiftieth chapter of 007 on the big screen!
NP: Best of Blighty! Top Gear! British engineering! Traditional British knee tremblers! British gadg —
SM: We’ve already secured the Heineken endorsement. Apple’s on board, too. Ms Crumpet-Thighsalot can email you the full list, if you’d like?
NP: Can we at least have an aerial night shot of the Thames with a bloody great ‘LONDON’ caption on it? Those frightful heathens in the Antipodes need all the help they can get.
SM: Consider it done.
JL: We’re really making cracking progress here, gents — at this rate, we’ll be down the Bladder & Bread-basket for kick off.
DC: Now, speaking of phones, I’ve been thinking. What’s in all the headlines, lately? Snowden. Surveillance. Privacy. Let’s inject some realpolitik into this one. What’s Bond if not relevant, ey? What’s it like when an old fashioned state-sanctioned murderer’s threatened with obsolescence by bloody nerds with drones and GPSes and what not?
NP: Bloody good point, DC — when’s a drone ever porked a supermodel on a space station? Never, that’s when!
DC: I say we crank a bit of the old Cold War nostalgia, really ask some big questions, challenge those popcorn gumming plebs…
NP: Like in The Dark Knight?
DC: (terse) I’ve not seen it.
SM: I’m liking where this is going, DC — let’s put a pin in this and flesh it out on set like usual, eh? Time’s money, eh wot? I suppose the big question we’re all dodging, here, gents, is: who’s the villain?
JL: We’ve been doing a bang up job on this front. Three camp Europeans in a row- very progressive, very challenging… To be honest, I’m stumped, lads.
JB: It’s a head scratcher, agreed.
RW: Here’s an idea…what if the last three films are all interconnected by a shadowy, heretofore unseen conspiracy masterminded by…someone related to Bond? Perhaps a secret foster brother who’s mad his dad loved 007 more?
JL: Good god, man. Genius! We can even jam a few pompous thematic references to ‘duality’ in there — lots of mirrors, f’rinstance. Psychological and what-not. The duality of man. Freud.
RW: Jolly good idea. Let’s say this vast master plan, going to ridiculous lengths to specifically target Bond, has been in place since Casino Royale. After all, those bloody Gen Ys do enjoy having everything explained to them in agonising, tedious detail.
NP: I’m feeling like Bond needs a Joker. Can this guy have a distinctive scar?
JL: I’m thinking we see the origin of the scar, my good man.
(More glasses clinking)
SM: Well, chaps, the hour groweth late, as Steve King said — sterling bloody work, the lot of you! Let’s adjourn to the boozer — we can iron out any minor details we’ve missed — henchmen, vehicles to be exploded, locations for the how’s yer father, an actual villain — with a viewing of my Fiftieth Anniversary box set after a pint or twelve.
I must say, I do feel like this one needs an ejector seat…
Originally published at www.hopscotchfriday.com.