With all the speculation regarding who will be the next actor to play James Bond, few outlets have focused on who should be the next James Bond. Well, let me start that conversation by saying it should be me. I, Kendon Luscher, should be the next James Bond. Consider this an out of box choice all you want, but if you take the time to actually consider it, my qualifications are obvious.
How many James Bond films have I watched?
That would be somewhere between two and four.
Which James Bond films have I seen?
I don’t remember.
Who is James Bond?
I’ll get to that.
Far from a detriment to my candidacy, my lack of James Bond knowledge is my biggest asset. I’m a clean slate just like every time the CIA takes another James Bond clone out of the isolation tank where they grew him. Having no memory of these films, I’m just going to go ahead and assume this is how it works because each James Bond would be fucking ancient if these were all supposed to be the same dude. The first James Bond movie was a silent picture filmed in 1884, I’m guessing. James Bond would be like three hundred years old if not for this cloning plot device that starts each new James Bond’s cinematic reign.
The only experience I have with James Bond is playing the James Bond simulator that is Goldeneye Nintendo 64 on the Wii console. I skipped all the cut scenes because cut scenes are wack, leaving me with the superior situation of having lived the life of being a James Bond without some hacks in New Jersey telling me what it is to be one via movies and videogame cut scenes. This goes beyond show but don’t tell. I’ve lived being James Bond but haven’t been shown.
If the James Bond Simulator is any indication, James Bond is a sociopath who kills and fucks his way through a place I’m assuming is America because everyone speaks English. Well, I am American, and as a guy whose wife is six months pregnant with our second child, you know damn well I’ve had sex exactly two times already. So that checks two out of three boxes. I am American, and I’ve also had sex. While I haven’t killed anybody (the third box the fat cat movie producers in Atlanta would like a James Bond to check), I am willing to commit murder(s) if it gets me the part.
Actually, let me make this super fucking clear for the record. If I get the opportunity to play the next James Bond, I will be method acting the whole damn thing. Scratch that. As soon as I am finished typing this article, I will begin method acting as James Bond. My face will be a Kabuki mask, frightening and never changing, originally a pale white with no distinguishing marks until blood paints the mask a sickly red. Two slits for eyes. Two slits for nostrils. A large hole through which I’ll stuff the heart of the enemies I dissect, still living, in my basement lair.
When my victims plead to know why and who and what and where and when, I will answer them,
“I am James. James Bond. Your time is ending now in the basement where my dogs sleep or howl. I am doing this to feel anything at all. I take your life so I can feel alive — so I can absorb your power into mine.”
My dogs will circle around the dying sac of meat, lapping up blood in their jowls.
Many people may doubt my sincerity here, but working with Phoebe Waller-Bridge would be a dream come true for me on its own, regardless of the project. And I am definitely willing to commit some murders to make that dream happen even if I wasn’t a perfect fit like I am in this case.
Clearly, I am willing to go above and beyond what other James Bond prospects will do. I would tell them that if they want the job, they need to get on my level, but I know they won’t rise to the challenge. The simple fact is I want this more than they do. Various news outlets keep floating different possible names for the next James Bond movie, and frankly, all of the other candidates are already rich. They don’t need the money, but I do.
Take the most recent rumored actor, Richard Madden. First of all, he is far too old to be playing the part of James Bond. The guy is like 80. But he also has stacks of cash. He went pro in the NFL back in the late 50s, won a Super Bowl with the Oakland Raiders in 1977, spent several decades as the most highly regarded commentator in football sportscasting and has his name attached to the most successful NFL videogame product of all time. He…does…not…need…this.
And while Idris Elba is a wonderful actor (the one other candidate I wouldn’t mind seeing in this role other than me), don’t let his stint on The Wire fool you. This man is not an American. He was faking an American accent for the sake of that show. Yes, he could do the same for his role as James Bond, but I see no reason why we should pick someone who isn’t American to play a character who I’ve assumed is synonymous with Americanism. Also, even Elba does not need this.
Me, on the other hand, I desperately need this money. A cursory Google search tells me the cost of raising a single child is about $1,200-1,400 a year, and I’m about to have two of them.
This checks out as a conservative estimate, but my firstborn far exceeds those costs as her taste is very fashion forward. She may be only four, but nobody is catching her in this season’s clothes, let alone last season’s abominations. She’s so ahead of the curve, she’s pulling designer clothes before the new fashion season even begins, a result of her close friendship with many top designers. And while, yes, she does get these clothes at a reduced rate, part of the perks of being an IG influencer as well as “it girl”, it still costs more money than I can afford, and it’s not like I’m going to dress my second kid in hand-me-downs while the oldest is looking fucking incredible every single day.
And listen, I’m not going to lie here and say many of my money issues are not my own fault. I realize I could better afford my daughters’ wardrobes had I handled my shit better. A few years back, I invested most of my savings in bees-futures, and that investment has not yet paid off with bee populations dwindling in America instead of experiencing the rise I had predicted. The market could still turn around, and I’ve been doing my own part to grow my investment. However, that doesn’t really help me when I’m looking at another $13,000 trip to Paris to have my four year old and newborn fitted for the next line of Marie Guthrie-Sinclair gowns.
But unlike bees, I am not a bad investment. As a summer camp counselor, and later, director, I have written and performed in hundreds of skits. Some of them were actually good (Particularly one about two Sith lords posing as Jedis at a Jedi high school with hilarious teen movie results. Imagine Never Been Kissed mixed with 21 Jump Street mixed with Star Wars.), and while my acting is often flat, I also never got the chance to really live in my role. Even after my camp counselor days when I wrote and acted in the smash hit horror short Pond, we didn’t have the budget to allow me to do the method acting I plan on doing even before those damn Hollywood execs (short for “executives” – it’s business speak) in Minnesota pick me for this role. Trust me that I can do a little better if I only get a chance.
Please.
I’m begging you.
I really need this. Please.
Can anyone reading this do me a favor and send this article to anyone you may know in the biz? Thank you. I love you. I’m not sure why I just wrote that.