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MI-6 is worried. Of its top band of nine agents, the ones with that suggestively prefixed double-Oh indicating the license to kill, the one that brought in all the attention and the women is missing. M thoughtfully paces the floor.
Outside, at the reception, Miss Moneypenny sighs wistfully. James, of the Astons, Martinis and women with ludicrous names and unbelievable legs, hasn't been seen for quite some time, and the world isn't half as spectacular as it used to be. And now the Japs have the power, she shudders, hoping that darned Q hadn't fit a blooming 'bug' inside her head, tapping her thoughts.
The Japs, them of Sony Pictures, have an arsenal of powerful franchises, not least of which is that young fellow who dresses in red and blue lycra and sticks to walls, and who Moneypenny rather fancies. Now, they've taken over leonine MGM, and, while gathering long-cobwebbed franchises like Rocky to market multiply on Special Collector's Edition DVD, they've also automatically taken over MI-6, and rugged Mr Bond.
The game, however, has changed. The cold war is over, and Fleming's classic spy novels have long been done. The fop who has been wearing the suave Saville Row shoes has
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turned 51, and if they could have a silver-haired Bond, we might as well bring back Sir Sean. A smile flits involuntarily to Moneypenny's lips at the thought.
Now, all is chaos. Twenty-first in the franchise, the film has been given the startlingly original title: Bond 21. There is no word of who will direct, though whispers abound. And as for who will actually serve on the megamillion dollar Majesty's Secret Service, the speculation is even wilder.
Here begins the Bondage: the rumours, the speculation, the possibilities, and the things we'd really love to see. Hang on to that trilby.
Who will inherit the fabled tuxedo?
Text: Raja Sen
Photographs: Getty Images
Illustration: Uttam Ghosh
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