So Knives Out WASN'T The New James Bond Movie?

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About a week and a half ago, I tore off the latest page on my Far Side desk calendar, revealing a delightful vignette featuring two kangaroo nerds with pouch protectors.

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After several minutes of side-splitting, Gary Larson-induced laughter,  I realized that the date was December 13, which in this case fell on a Friday. Not one for superstition, I decided to go about my day as I normally would, but not before grabbing a my lucky horseshoe and tapping on the door-frame exactly 4 times.

I decided that I would go see a movie.

I arrived at the theater and surveyed the posters that lined the lobby. I was struck by one particular poster that really piqued my interest.

Knives Out, read the poster. Standing front and center was a familiar face, one that I had seen at least four times previously.

"Why that's Daniel Craig," I said to no one. "James Bond himself."

I had heard that a new Bond movie was in the works. Maybe they finished it up early and decided to release it?

I liked the title: Knives Out. Short and sweet. Usually they give them names like Yesterday's Tomorrow is Tomorrow's Today.

I bought my ticket, and marched to the theater with my $8 Coca-Cola ICEE in hand, ready to see the latest exploits of everyone's favorite English spy not named Austin Powers.

The movie began with the murder of a renowned mystery novelist.

"I can't wait to see how James Bond figures this one out!" I yelled before being rudely shushed by a fellow moviegoer.

After about 10 minutes with no sight of 007, James Bond himself appeared in the back of the room during an interrogation. Bond spoke with a a thick eloquent southern accent.

"That's odd," I thought to myself.

Bond then introduced himself as Benoit Blanc.

"Ooooh, he's undercover!" I exclaimed, drawing another shush from the row behind me.

This made sense. There would be no better cover for Bond than a private investigator with a French name, who speaks like an Antebellum plantation owner. Hidden in plain sight.

Most of this film took place in side a large mansion with antiquities. Antiquities are antiques for rich people. Antiques are things like old gas station signs or KISS pinball machines, while antiquities are things like Napoleon's pants or a club that a caveman hit a seal with.

As watched, I was scanning every corner of the screen hoping for a glimpse at one of the hallmarks of a James Bond flick: a Bond girl.

At one point, I thought may have seen one, but it's possible that it was a suit of armor or maybe a coat rack with a hat perched on top. I was thinking that maybe this Bond girl's thing is that she wears a hat. They probably named her "Hatty Goodtimes" or "Pippy Hattington."

An hour and a half into the movie and Bond hadn't broken from his southern drawl.

Commitment. I dig it.

What was weird was that I had yet to see any gadgets, any Aston Martins, or anything remotely spy like. In fact, the only thing even remotely British that far into the movie was Bond using the phrase, "regurgitative reaction to mistruths." If he was actually playing an American he would have said "you puke when you lie."

There were hardly any villains in the traditional Bond sense. No henchman either. And instead of a Martini, I think I saw Bond drinking bourbon.

I thought I had heard the iconic music sting at one point but it may have been a malfunctioning air conditioner, or a series of sneezes from a fellow theater patron.

Things weren't adding up.

Just as the credits began to roll, I realized this really wasn't a Bond movie after all. 

You see, Daniel Craig is an actor. He plays different roles. Sure he gets typecast sometimes as a guy who wears a suit and is tough but at the same time has an air of sophistication.

So, while not the Bond picture I had expected, I'm pleased to report that Knives Out is a great movie.

I am however trying to figure out if Miami Vice and Halloween exist in the same cinematic universe though, because in this movie, Laurie Strode is married to the guy from Miami Vice.

Didn't expect that.


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