(Anthony Lane’s article appeared in the New Yorker, 6/12; via Pam Green.)

One good lunch deserves another. In the course of Michael Winterbottom’s “The Trip,” Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon toy with their glasses of wine over an indolent meal and trade impersonations of James Bond. They fire Connerys at one another, reach deep into their baritones for a Moore, and even feed a little Irish brogue into their Brosnans. When it comes to “The Man with the Golden Gun,” however, they turn aside from 007, for a minute, and pay homage to his adversary in that film—Scaramanga, played by Christopher Lee. He is the only Bond villain whom the master impressionists deign to mimic; over and over, they repeat the same line, refining the intonation until Lee’s impeccable cadences fall into place: “Come, come, Mr. Bond, you get just as much pleasure from killing as I do.”


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