My ideal Bond cast...

OK so get this. In the upcoming James Bond, Daniel Craig’s Bond dies (somehow) or retires. MI6 needs a replacement for Bond, and M (Ralph Fiennes as it has been announced) is scouting potential replacements during a training demonstration somewhere remote in Central England. This would act as the opening scene (not the titles yet), paying homage to the action-packed openings of the classic Bond films. A large amount of prospective 00 agents are shown in various exercises. Suddenly, something goes wrong. An extremely well trained group of armed, masked soldiers storm the location (they were shown cracking the security codes but blended in with the rest of the training scene shots). All of the prospective 00 agents are killed. The apparent leader of the attackers holds M at gunpoint and motions to one of the soldiers, who has a video camera. The leader executes M in front of the camera, and the footage is sent to every computer at MI6 command.

            Chaos ensues at command. M’s second in command (Hugh Laurie?) is no-where to be found and feared dead. Seeing leadership is desperately needed, no matter the rank, a member of the intelligence processing division (not a 00 agent) steps up and takes charge. The temporary M (Emma Watson) begins to organize intelligence efforts and a response to the attack. M is also aware that there is a mole somewhere within command: how else would the attackers know the training location?  She asks what agents are available to pursue the soldiers, who are escaping, since the training locale was remote and classified (so there is no police response). Her answer is not a good one—all of the agents currently located in Britain were taking part in the exercise, except one trainee, who hasn’t passed a qualification in the 00 regimen. M makes a quick decision to allow the trainee to trail the soldiers, passing along strict orders not to engage—only track. M sends several male staff members to retrieve and give orders to the trainee. She also equips them with pistols, worried that even the trainee has been targeted, like the 00 agents.

            We cut to the trainee’s room. The staff knocks, and with no response, barges into the small living quarters. The shower is on, so they head towards the bathroom. A blur of precisely placed punches and kicks from behind quickly disables the staff. They are ordered to stand up at gunpoint (specifically two pistols, one in each hand). As they turn around, the trainee (Natalie Dormer) who is only in a towel (not revealing though) demands an explanation. Once they explain the situation and whom they are, she accepts the mission and tells them to turn back around so she can get dressed. They do, but one tries to peak, and is quickly met with the towel to his face followed by a knockout punch.

            Bond (the trainee will soon become “Bond’) makes her way after the attackers using a car stolen from the MI6 parking lot (it appears she picks it on purpose). She fails to catch them before they escape from northern England (perhaps Sunderland) in what appears to be a submarine. Bond attempts to follow the ship along the coast, but is spotted and fired upon while the sub is still above water. A tire is shot and Bond crashes off a cliff, but uses the eject button, opens the seats parachute, and glides towards the water. M contacts her and asks for a report, to which Bond replies, “I think I’ll go for a swim instead” and falls into the North Sea. This leads to a seamless transition into a water themed title sequence, in which bubbles are the dots that lead to the gun barrel and men are the dancers instead of women. This obviously varies from the norm, where the gun barrel is shown first, but in order to keep the Bond reveal a surprise, it needs to happen after the “first act” so to say.

            Once Bond gets back to command, more bad news is coming in. 00 agents around the world are being targeted. Bond goes to meet M, and is greeted by Moneypenny (Ryan Gosling). Moneypenny flirts (“I didn’t know Bond wore lipstick so well”) but is shut down by Bond.

M approves the trainee’s 00 status and gives Bond orders to track down one of the final 00 agents left in the field, who checked in just one day ago. They cannot contact him again and think (but aren’t sure) he has “vital” information that needs to be returned to command before his is killed by the attackers, who have been identified as a terror cell out of Estonia—but nothing more. M asks Bond why she wasn’t at the training exercise. She admitted she was on probation while it was being investigated if she cheated on a mathematics test, which she denies. M tests her with a trick word problem, and Bond quickly answers (I’m bad at math so I’d have to look one up).  

Before she leaves, M tells Bond that Q has requested to speak with her immediately. When she meets Q (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), he demands an apology for stealing his car. She retorts, “You should try making a security alarm” or something witty like that. He gives her some cool gadgets: a lipstick dart gun, heels with a knife blade, ect ect. She declines some of them and takes what she pleases, including another car.

Bond travels to Beijing, where it becomes clear that the general state of the world is not good, as there appears that there is a global food crisis. There she finds evidence of 004 (Idris Elba) being kidnapped. She uses her attractiveness and wit to her advantage and tricks many people into helping her track down the kidnappers.

To Bond’s surprise, the kidnappers aren’t the terrorists, but another group that seem like CIA agents. Before Bond can intervene, the terrorists kidnap 004 from the CIA agents. Bond is on their trail, but is intercepted by the KGB, whom also appear to want 004.

Eventually the trail leads to the terrorist hideout in Estonia, where 004 is being held. Bond is captured despite slipping past most of the security. The villain (Norman Reedus) explains to Bond that the current famine in his home country of Estonia is the direct result of MI6 assassinating his brother, who was working on progressive research on sustainable agriculture. Here we see Reedus cry because he’s so good at acting like he’s crying. He’s seeking revenge, but didn’t know 004’s secret until after the attack in England. It turns out 004 was the assassin, and looked at some of the research before escaping the scene—this is why he is sought after. The villain is desperate to retreieve the information, which will make his suffering country wealthy and feed his people. Bond and 004 escape and report all of this back to M, who finds it to be true. The original M didn’t give the order, and it is discovered that the second in command M (Laurie) gave the order, whom is still missing, but was assumed dead.

That’s all I have as of now. But yeah to say the least I was inspired tonight. I don’t know the Bond universe well enough to know if this would fit or not.

Update

Hi everyone, as you may have noticed I've been MIA lately, my apologies. Just a couple quick updates:

I'll be posting more often, ideally every day.

I'll also be posting some things, like my writing and photography, on my Tumblr blog. If you're interested in my personality, that's the place to go. Check it out here.

I picked up the next edition of Ian Doescher's "William Shakespeare's Star Wars," which I'll be reviewing shortly.

Being honest, I've been busy getting everything squared away down in PA (registration and inspection, that sort of thing) and just tired from work. I just need to get in the habit of updating this as frequently as my Tumblr blog and things will be swell.

Here's a quick short story I wrote the other night...still working on it.

It was the room with the closet. The rest of the house was fine, but it was that room that I couldn’t go in again. I finished moving in without stepping inside it. Once was enough. When the relator gave me the tour, she stayed outside in the hallway, and said, “That’s the room with the closet.”

The blind cat sat and cried at the closet door. It was a stray I found outside the house, a scrappy, worn little thing, with two slits where eyes once saw and followed birds in trees and mice in storm drains. It’s loss of sight was countered by the powerful voice it had, for hours on end, a terrible moan that sounds like distress. The vet insisted it was, “Just a way of warming up to you.” I tried keeping the door to the room shut, but she’d scratch at, taking the paint off, it until I let her in. Without eyes, it knew where the closet was.

They were a team of wanna-be ghost hunters, the kind who bring thousands of dollars of video equipment into a old house and run around screaming for 40 minutes for a show on late night tv. I got ahold of them through an old friend, who insisted I have the cat or the closet or both checked out.

They called themselves paranormal investigators, but when they saw the cat and the closet from outside the room, they grew sullen, somehow knowing they were stepping into territory they had never witnessed before—something real. One of them managed, “Paul, you appear to be a victim of a haunting.” Another tried calling the cat, but it stayed put, defiant. The host, attractive woman with black hair, tried letting her Labrador in, hoping the cat would hide away in a distant corner, the golden wouldn’t come in. He whined and barked, backing away from the front door, never letting his tail face the house.

I let the team run around the house for an hour or two while I sat outside in the tepid spring night, figuring they’d hold true to their promise of reimbursement, which was at least enough for a new computer, though they were never clear with exact numbers. But I would have my house and all my worthless shit inside televised nation-wide, so I decided, why not, let them do it. Maybe they’ll make the cat stop.

When what seemed like three hours had passed, and the running and dramatic screaming had stopped, I gave myself the o.k. to check up on them, since it was getting late and bed was calling me.

They were waiting for me in the parlor, well, most of them at least. I flicked the lights, but they were out, a common ploy for the show, but I could see at least three of the five, sitting on the couch, wearing all black.

I waved, and got no response.

"Hey." Nothing.

The cat started meowing upstairs, the howls bouncing off the empty walls of a poor man’s house. I took out my phone, turned on the flash bulb, and shone it towards the couch.

Dried blood streaked across their face from the corners of their eyes. They were still, too still. I knew they were dead, and that I needed to move, go somewhere else, call for help, but I stayed and studied their faces, how the blood molded to the features of their skin. 

I kept the flash on, but moved the phone downward so I could call for help. I must have stood staring at the corpses for longer than I thought, because the flash suddenly cut off, and the screen went black. The phone slipped from my hands as I felt for furniture to help me stand while my eyes adjusted to the darkness.

The cat’s howls turned to a fury of shrieks, just like it were in a fight with another cat. I looked up towards the stairs, as if I would be able to see what was happening through the walls. It only grew louder, and louder, until my ears began to ring. I took a step forward, still feeling my way along the wall deciding to go upstairs and try to calm the cat.

The cat’s screams reached a climax and ceased. I stopped. In the newfound silence, I heard something from the couch, a small rustle of fabric.

Their eyes were open, wide and white, transfixed on me.

I bolted at the door, slipping around the corner. The stairs, now in front of me, seemed twice as long as they had been, stretching beyond what should have been the height of the house, but that too had grown.

They were standing up now, necks impossibly turned towards me. Their bodies revolved to face me while their heads stayed still as stone.

I bolted up the stairs, skipping a step as I went, pulling on the railing to propel myself farther. I could hear them behind me, a stampede of footsteps. I was losing ground.

As I neared the top, I could feel their breath, the cold sending a stiffness down my neck that spread down the length of my spine.

I plateaued at the balcony. They stopped directly behind me, looking through me at the door which led to the closet.

The cat began meowing again, slow and quiet, a mere moan, even compared to the usual. 

At the end of the hall was my bedroom, hardly visible in the black, and I somehow knew the other two members of the team lurked in the shadows on the other side of my door. I heard the door open and close, open and close, although I could not see if it were truly happening.

I tried the light switch for the hallway light. The single bulb came on, but it was only a dim glow in strength, keeping the corners enveloped in darkness. The door was opening and closing by itself, and I stood there, transfixed by the magic, unable to stop looking. No matter how hard I strained my eyes, I could not see what lie beyond the door in the brief seconds it was open.

Open, close, open, close, open, close. The cat kept crying. Open, close, open, close, open. It stayed open, and I took a step closer, still squinting.

One of the other members of the crew inched sideways from the right side of the door, not stepping, but sliding, facing me the whole time. His eyes were wide like the others, blood fresh and dripping off his face. He kept gliding along the floor, moving to the left until he was out of view. The door swung shut, quicker than it had before, but made no sound.

I listened to my breath and the cat, who, as if to match me, relaxed to a whimper.

The door opened with the bang that should have been paired with the close, and the man appeared not two feet in front of me. Another came sprinting from the bedroom, who had the black hair of the female host hung over her face.

I almost fell backwards, hands flailing, finding the doorknob that led into the room with the closet. The others still stood on the edge of the stairs. I turned to open the door, the slap of bare feet hitting wood floor coming from the hallway. The door opened, and as I went into the room with the closet, I spun around to face the door again, ensuring that it was shut.

The cat went silent. I dared not face the room with the closet. I hadn’t been in the room since I moved in and left it empty, but even without looking I knew it was different, that it had changed into something new.

I hesitated, but eventually swung around, hand still on the knob.

The cat was on the standing on the ceiling, upside down. It’s tail was a huge poof of fur. It was right in front of the closet door, which extended all the way to the ceiling. The cat paid me no notice.

The room itself was just as empty as before, with no apparent changes, but I still knew something was different. I took my hand off the knob and stepped forward, towards the closet.

The huge door inched open, showing only a small, black slit. I stopped. It opened an inch more, and then another inch, although I still could not see inside.

From the closet, and deep, wretched voice said, “Bring me more.”

Poetry Was Never My Thing

And still isn't, really. I hardly ever find myself inclined to write poetry. Occasionally I'll think of a nice stanza, or even a line or two, but those usually either are never written down and remembered or just end up falling into place in something else I'm writing.

I'm going to start posting some old writing of mine every once and awhile, I think it will be fun. Here's a poem I wrote in fifth grade. As you'll quickly realize it's more of a protest than an attempt.

Tongue Twister

Something said something

so something

could do something.

The something

did something so

something could do

the something it

wanted to do.

It made the

other something

very mad.

THE SOMETHING END

When I brought this home to my parents, they were sure to take my copy and store it away, and now I see why.

The Star Wars Review

For those of you who haven't heard, The Star Wars is a eight-part comic series based on George Lucas's rough-draft screenplay (the second issue was released several days ago). It's exciting for Star Wars and science fiction fans alike--it's not every day that you get to see a first draft of one of the most influential and popular films of all time. Besides being a Star Wars geek myself, it's interesting to me because of the writing aspect; I've always been curious to see if the most renowned writers struggle with their first drafts as much as I do.

Oooo pretty

If you're expecting simply an alternate storyline to the Star Wars you've grown to love (and occasionally hate) like I was, look somewhere else. The Star Wars is drastically different, with only a taste of what George Lucas eventually turned Star Wars into. Some of the most notable differences are:

Luke Skywalker is a military general, leading the rebellion against the Empire

Annikin Starkiller is the son of Kane Starkiller, a main protagonist

Luke and Leia are not related--or at least not yet

The Empire has been around for quite some time

The Empire's capital is on Alderaan, on a platform similar to Cloud City

The political system is much more detailed and "antique," with Kings, Lords and Counts, ect

The Jedi are called the Jedi-Bendu and were, until recently, were the Emperor's personal bodyguards and in charge of the Imperial Space Force

Perhaps most important, the plot is significantly different.

There are some similarities found in both Star Wars and The Star Wars: 

The Jedi are almost extinct

The Rebellion isn't going well

Darth Vader still seems to be an important villain, although he is not masked

The Force is still key to the plot

The Sith and the Jedi are rivals

Lightsabers are still the Jedi and Sith weapon of choice, but they are all red (for the moment, perhaps)

I'm being brief, as they are more similarities and differences, especially in the upcoming issues. Han Solo, R2-D2, C3P0, Chewbacca, and the Death Star have yet to make an appearance.

Now, obviously I'm going to be bias going into this, but I've read it a couple times and have tried to take a neutral approach. I'll start with what I like.

I actually like how it's a bit more complicated politically. Looking at the final version of Star Wars, it seems like Lucas focused more on the way the story was told rather than the complexity and depth of the story itself. Everyone knows that it follows the Hero's Journey, and that Lucas didn't really do anything incredibly revolutionary telling the story besides taking classic Western (the cowboy films, not the Western part of the globe) conflicts and put them in space.

Pretty much every story follows something along these lines, maybe skipping a couple steps here or there.

Heck, even the famous scroll is from Flash Gordon.

Now, I'm not saying this is a bad thing. Every good story derives from parts of another--it's inevitable. But The Star Wars feels more original than Star Wars, and I think it's because instead of taking inspiration from Westerns, The Star Wars takes inspiration from Medieval story lines. Even the revised tagline hints at this: Longer ago, in a galaxy even further away..."

It's also something different. If it were too similar to Star Wars, it wouldn't be as special. It's kind of like the Walking Dead television show vs. the comic series. You can enjoy both because they're different.

The art is really well done. I'm certainly not an expert on comic art, but pleased with Mike Mayhew's style. It's not too playful but it's also not too serious. Mayhew has done work for Marvel in the past, so he knows his stuff. 

Preview from page 1 of The Star Wars

He had some original art to base his work from. 

What C3P0 and R2D2 looked like

There's also an interesting section in the back of the comic called, "Redesigning the Universe," for those who are interested about the changes to the visual universe being made.

So here's what I don't like. I can see why some of the changes were done to the script, specifically some of the names and places. Skywalker, Darklighter, Starkiller, The Palace of Lite...I mean, come on. He kept Skywalker, which is fine, but some of them are just plain silly and start to take you out of the story.

My main complaint is that the pacing is extremely quick. I realize that they are trying to put it in eight issues, but anything with Star Wars thrown on it or even Lucas's name is going to sell and make profits, so I'm not sure why they felt they needed to limit themselves. The aforementioned complexity requires a little more time to get used to, and some of the characters who seem important are blown by, like Darth Vader, who only gets a couple lines. The character names, as silly as they sometimes seem, blend together, and can get confusing. It's also hard for someone with knowledge about the Star Wars university to acclimate to all the changes, which I think is most of the problem, so maybe I should just put my foot in my mouth and shut up. This is just the first issue, and it wasn't bad enough for me to not enjoy it, so I'll be patient. 

Sorry that it took so long to get around to doing this. I'll try to get my hands on #2 soon and write about that. Also, I know that my reviews are not really complete or typical--I just want to write what I think about things, not tell people the entire plot. Feel free to comment and discuss what you think.

General Update

I haven't written anything on here for the past couple days, my apologies. Tomorrow I'll try and get some content up, especially The Star Wars review I've been promising. I also finished The Book Thief and watched Pale Rider, so I'll talk about those.

In other news, Breaking Bad just finished. Here's the final song of a great series, "Baby Blue" by Badfinger.

Empire Falls Review

Just yesterday I finally finished Empire Falls by Richard Russo. For whatever reason, it took me forever to finish--mostly my fault, my laziness and all.

Empire Falls follows Miles Roby, his family, his friends, and his enemies through a delicate web of small town drama, larger than life characters, and big town dreams. The story truly begins before Miles is even alive, but he finds himself square in the middle of problems years in the making as well as quite a few he's hand a hand in. I'm not going to get very detailed because I would rather people go out and read it rather than get a synopsis and call it good. That's how most of my reviews will be on this blog--I figure there's plenty of explanations out there already, but if you're reading my review, you probably want my opinion, not my explanation of what happened.

Even though I'm in no means a Russo expert, I can tell from just this read that he's a master at character development and complexity. Even the less significant characters, say, Father Tom, are well known to the reader. This wealth of personality makes the plot less important. Not that it isn't important, but strong characters can carry a weak plot. Luckily enough, Empire Falls doesn't have a weak plot at all. As I mentioned, the story arc begins well before Miles Roby is even alive.

Something I was really impressed with was Russo's ability to create humor in what seems to be an almost lifeless situation. Besides from Timmy the cat, a ravenous feline that always has it out for Miles, Max Roby is often the comic relief. Even with the old man's great comebacks and careless personality, the humor behind his character also pushes conflicts forward. The best example of this is when Miles is speaking to Jimmy Minty, a police officer determined to be Miles' friend despite Miles' best efforts. Max throws the insults out as if he had planned them years in advance, making any sensible reader laugh while also showcasing the growing conflict between Jimmy and Miles. Here's the scene from the HBO movie version, although I can't speak for the film, since I haven't seen it yet.

There's also quite a bit of human nature philosophy under the outer layers of the novel. A couple common themes I noticed were: the tendency for characters to return to what they despise; stay depressed because it's easier; poor parental guidance and its shockwave effect; and how many people have pre-determined destinies based off from their family history and financial situation. Almost all the characters exhibited at least one of these traits or at least had it change them in some way or another.

Being from Maine, I have the special connection to the novel, as it is based in a fictional town in central Maine. I don't live in a mill dependent town, as Empire Falls is, but I can say one thing; Russo had the overall vibe completely correct. Most Mainers aren't well off, and when their main source of employment calls it quits, so does most of the townsfolk. That's the case just about anywhere. The difference with Maine is that, given that you're born in the easternmost state in the country, you're raised with an incredible amount of resilience to all things tough. The weather is perhaps the most obvious challenge that Maine people have to face, but there's a plethora of other things that don't make it an easy life, especially the farther north you go. This resilience equates to stubbornness, and even a willingness to struggle, which I think characters like Miles Roby possess, as well as the people who hung on to hope that the Whiting family would make a sale on the closed mill. Unfortunately, this frustrating stubbornness becomes alcoholism, domestic violence, and an increasingly small amount of youth (who get out before they are old enough to be stubborn). In fact, Maine is the oldest state in the country, and has been for awhile--and it's only getting worse.

One small complaint I have is that the first chunk of the novel moves a little slow. In a way, this slowness made the characters and the ending even more worthwhile, but I think some moments could have been moved along a little quicker. Then again, if you asked me what moments, or how to go about speeding it up, I'm not sure I'd be able to answer.

I think I'll write more about Empire Falls as time goes on, especially certain characters, like Jimmy Minty and John Voss. At any rate, I definitely recommend the novel.

Empire Falls

I'm currently reading Richard Russo's Empire Falls. It's taking me quite awhile to finish, but things are really starting to heat up with the small-town drama dynamics.

I'll admit that I'm going to steal a couple things that I've learned from the small Maine town of Empire Falls and put them in Bass Harbor, which is essentially another fictional town with how much I'm molding it for The Quietside. This is an example of something I'm "borrowing:"

"See, I cared who won that football game today. Maybe people like you think that makes me a nobody, but you know what? I don't give a fuck. Mr. Empire Falls? That's me. Last one to leave, turn out the lights, right? This town is me, and I'm it. I'm not one of those that left and then came back. I been here all along. Right here is where I been, and it's where I'll be when the sun comes up tomorrow..."

This passion and even the notion behind it fits Nate Kennedy to the point. Definitely expect a review once I'm finished. Speaking of reviews, I'm talking to friends tonight and Breaking Bad is on, so The Star Wars might have to wait another day. I want to write something helpful and insightful, not just a couple quick thoughts and call it good.