By Jason Vincent
If you’re a child of the 80’s you almost certainly grew up on James Bond films. Some were old, some were new and all of them were cool. They were just barely clean enough for a parent to let their kids watch and you’re unlikely to find a man alive who doesn’t remember the first time he saw an iconic Bond girl saunter into frame wearing slinky lingerie.
Shaken, not stirred. Hello, Moneypenny. The name’s Bond, James Bond. All of these things imprinted with an English or, even cooler, a Scottish accent. To some of us we were left feeling like the Brits knew something we didn’t about style, sophistication, spy craft or just how to get a woman to take her clothes off.
As a kid I compared every American movie of the genre to the Bond films. If an action movie even hinted at espionage I wondered if it was going to be the first in a long line of films to create a seemingly never-ending adventure showing an American good guy save the world time and time again.
But it never happened. Sure, in 2002 we finally got Jason Bourne on the silver screen, but he wasn’t Bond. Hell, the guy couldn’t even remember who he was. There were never any Q-type gadgets and Jason certainly didn’t spend 70 percent of his brain power trying to get laid. A tuxedo? I think Bourne may have worn Patagonia. The only thing they had in common were their initials.
I thought we might be close to an American Bond film franchise when Vince Flynn announced, before his death—God rest his soul; the man was a legend—that the Mitch Rapp series was set to head to the silver screen. Rapp was anything but flashy but we’d finally have a franchise. Alas, American Assassin was garbage. Wrong leading man. Keaton played his part perfectly, but the whole thing was DOA.
But what if we could have our own match to 007? An American who could get away with whatever he saw fit for the good of the republic? I think about it more than I probably should, but let’s game this out for America.
Plot: American spy thwarts a scheme by the presidential family to bury their foreign business dealings with China—further opening the door for Chinese control over American enterprises…all in the name of personal profit.
Lead: Maybe Bradley Cooper. He’s a pretty all-American dude and he’s done a great job in all sorts of roles. He’s a Swiss army knife type.
Setting: The movie starts in California at an evening party. It’s a cliffside mansion overlooking the pacific and there’s an outdoor bar. You hear a guy order a bourbon…neat. Cooper steps into frame wearing a simple black tuxedo. Off to the side of the bar the President’s son is seated at a table with a bored looking but gorgeous woman in an evening gown. He’s trying to make a move on the girl, but he’s overconfident from too much blow and she’s not impressed with his invitation to The White House. She tells him it was nice to meet him and heads to the bar.
The Woman: Gal Gadot. She’s everyone’s type. Pure class and possibly the best looking woman on earth. If my wife told me to pick a hall pass with any celebrity, she’s the one. I’m practicing my Hebrew just in case.
So now that the first scene is set, what about the cool gear?
The Car: 1965 Shelby Cobra. Silver, dark brown leather, no roll bar.
The Gun: I’ve spent a lot of time thinking of just the perfect American counterpart to the PPK and you may have never heard of it -it’s the compact Kahr MK9. She’s all stainless, a little on the heavy side, slightly smaller than the PPK and holds 6 rounds of the more powerful 9mm in a flush fit mag.
The Watch: Shinola. Just kidding, that’s not a real American watch company. Since a real American watch company doesn’t exist, we’ll go with an Omega Seamaster Planet Ocean 600M because a Rolex is too obvious. The Omega is right at the edge of being too big and it’s indestructible. It seems more suited to violence than the others.
Accessories: Surefire Stiletto Pro -it’s blindingly bright, low profile and it’s aluminum so it can be used as a striking weapon in a pinch. Twelve rounds of Fiocchi Hyperformance Defense hollow points because it’s reliable and runs cleaner than most others. The Kahr is temperamental with low grade ammo. An auto knife for quiet work or for when Gal’s zipper gets stuck.
So, there you have it — an opening scene, all the players and some toys for when things get interesting. Your version would probably look different. You’d probably go with a different gun, maybe a Breitling, possibly even a corvette. Hell, you might not even like Gal Gadot, but that just means you’re gay. Whatever you’d go with is fine by me because the screenplay isn’t written yet. But somebody needs to write it. For now, it’s a twenty-seven point game and the Brits have scored them all without answer.