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Scarpine

Verschlagener Korse

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  • »Scarpine« ist der Autor dieses Themas

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Montag, 27. Mai 2013, 13:09

DIE PRODUZENTEN: Barbara Broccoli

Die Tochter von Albert R. Broccoli und seit 1995 auch hauptverantwortliche Produzentin des Franchises soll hier zur Diskussion stehen...

[img]http://wodumedia.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/BARBARA-BROCCOLI-Producer.-Photo-credit-Terry-O-Neil.-2008-Danjaq-LLC-United-Artists-Corporation-Columbia-Pictures-Industries-Inc.-All-Rights-Reserved-25-960x1344.jpg[/img]
"Enjoying our little party, Monsieur... Saint John Smythe?"

Kronsteen

James Bond Club Deutschland - SPECTRE Nr. 005

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Dienstag, 18. Juni 2013, 08:35

Alles Gute zum (auch schon) 53., Babs! :bday:
"Wer ist schon Bond im Vergleich zu Kronsteen?!"

Mi6london

MI6 Außendienst Mitarbeiter

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Dienstag, 18. Juni 2013, 22:10

Von mir ich alles gute und möge sie und Michael uns noch einige Bond Abenteuer bescheren! :flower:
"Double 0 Seven reporting for Duty" "This Never Happend to the other Fella"

Kronsteen

James Bond Club Deutschland - SPECTRE Nr. 005

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Mittwoch, 15. Januar 2014, 09:00

"Wer ist schon Bond im Vergleich zu Kronsteen?!"

5

Sonntag, 25. Mai 2014, 10:55

.
Inside Barbara Dana Broccoli: THE COOK, THE PICASSO, HIS LOVER AND THE CARS


Why did I split with Barbara Broccoli? She tried to buy me a £180,000 Aston Martin, by TV chef JAMES MARTIN


By James Martin

Updated: 09:13 GMT, 7 October 2008


My girlfriend once bought me a Picasso. Not a Picasso print or a Picasso poster but a genuine Picasso. Actually, it wasn't just one, it was three.

Perhaps it makes more sense if I tell you that the woman in question was the Bond producer Barbara Broccoli, one of the most powerful people in Hollywood and more than ten years my senior. And if this generosity wasn't tricky enough - for instance, what exactly does a man do with such a valuable work of art? - Barbara then insisted on buying me a state-of-the-art Aston Martin DBS, chassis number 007, costing an eye-watering £180,000. Just because I said I liked it.
I was a bit of a late starter when it came to women. Cars and cooking were my passions but by the time I was old enough to fully appreciate girls, I was able to flambé chicken livers and was obsessed with Ferraris. Women were a distraction I didn't have time for.

I was born in Yorkshire in 1972 and grew up around food. At eight, I was washing pots in the kitchens of Castle Howard, where my father was manager, and after catering college I headed off to London with £50 in my pocket. Those early days were tough. I worked for Antony Worrall Thompson for a tiny wage but at least that was better than the big fat zero I got from my next boss, Marco Pierre White. When I was seven, I had boasted to my grandfather that I wanted to be a head chef by the age of 30, have my own restaurant at 35 and own a Ferrari when I was 40. I never imagined I would achieve those ambitions by the time I was 24.

I opened the Hotel du Vin in Winchester just before my 22nd birthday and bought my first Ferrari, a stunning black 360 costing £82,000, two years later.
For reasons I've never understood, my life has been full of headstrong women who, no doubt bored with waiting for me to notice them, have made the first move.
Which is probably just as well: most of them were so obviously out of my league I wouldn't have given myself a chance.

Meeting Barbara, daughter of the first Bond producer, 'Cubby' Broccoli, was unusual to say the least. She 'won' me in a charity auction in 2001 when I was 29, paying £18,000 to have me cook a meal at her Chelsea house. Perhaps it was my trademark dessert dish of spun sugar that swung it.
Six weeks later I turned up at Barbara's to make the meal for her and five friends. The evening was hilarious - and we just clicked. I didn't know she was co-producer of the current James Bond films with her half-brother Michael G. Wilson. I just thought she was an amazing woman.
The following day I told my then personal assistant Erica about the evening. She decided to play Cupid, calling Barbara's PA. It transpired that Barbara's PA was trying to organise a surprise for her birthday, so I offered to cook.
Thus began my longest relationship, the most surreal, exciting and unforgettable four-and-a-half years of my life.

Barbara was incredibly easy to be around. My phrase for her was 'Being with you is as easy as breathing' and it was true. She's generous to a fault. She'd never ask for anything but would give everything to make you happy. Unlike many in her business, Barbara is not pretentious or ostentatious - she drives a Volvo, for crying out loud - and when it was just the two of us she was the best company you could ask for.

The age difference never appeared to be a problem. I've always liked independent women: we both had strong opinions and plenty to say for ourselves, so life was never boring. I've always been mature. I grew up quickly, cooking in Michelin-starred restaurants in France during my teenage years.

Now, I thought I had done well for myself - I was appearing on the BBC cookery show Ready Steady Cook, I had published books and even had an account with Coutts - until I met Barbara. She wasn't just in the megaleague, she was at the very top of it. We had been together for three months or so when she invited me to join her in Los Angeles. Her house was massive - the lounge alone was twice the size of my home.

'What am I doing here?' I kept thinking. 'How did this happen?'
One day, while Barbara was out, I answered the door to a man dressed in a black suit holding a silver plate with an envelope.
Inside was a set of car keys with a prancing horse on the fob and a note from Barbara which read: 'Enjoy Beverly Hills, I'll see you later, love B.' On the drive was a silver Ferrari 360 Spyder, exactly the same as the black 360 I once owned but with a soft top which, let's face it, you've got to have in Beverly Hills.

With that the phone rang. It was Barbara, checking I had got it.
'Yeah, I've got it,' I replied, 'but what am I supposed to do with it?'
'Well,' she said, 'you're on the insurance, just go for a drive and enjoy LA.'

A few days earlier I had been in my little house in England - now I was driving along Rodeo Drive in a silver Ferrari 360 with cream leather interior - the odour of Ferrari leather is unique, it's like they genetically engineer it to smell of money.

So what did I do? I headed for a KFC drive-thru and bought myself a Bargain Bucket.
There were always surprises with Barbara. One year I went to the Baftas in London with her. As we waited for the show to start, Halle Berry, who was then the new Bond girl, sat next to me. She turned to Barbara, seated in the row behind me, and said: 'Hi, B, how ya doin'?' Then she said to me: 'Hey, James, how's it goin'?'

Sorry? What? Me? While I was trying to get my head around that, Nicole Kidman sat in front of me. She too turned around. 'Hi, Barb, hi, James.'
As the lights went down and the show started I tried subtly to send text messages to my mum: Halle Berry and Nicole Kidman just asked how I was doing.
Barbara leaned forward. 'What are you doing?' she asked. 'Nothing, just checking to see if I've got any messages.' I was used to meeting famous people, yet still I was star-struck. I felt like a small fish in a very big pond. I was out of my depth, a spare part.
Cars, however, are a great leveller. That's why I got on with Daniel Craig. We sat opposite each other at dinner in a private room at Nobu in Park Lane one night, chatting about motors.

We later went to the Aston Martin headquarters in Warwickshire to see the new DBS for the first time.
This was the Aston Martin Daniel would drive in "Casino Royale" (2006) , but at this stage the car had not even been built - it was just a clay model. It was a pitch by the company, looking for Barbara's approval. Barbara wasn't much interested in cars so she wanted me to look over it. A cover was pulled off to reveal a full-size clay model spray-painted to look exactly as the finished car would. It was all top secret.

'It's all right that, isn't it?' Daniel said to me. 'What do you think?'
'That's f****** ace,' I said. 'It looks the b*******.'
The detail was incredible. They had mock-ups of the interior and the Bond gadgets that were going to go on it - the defibrillator, the champagne holder in the back.
Then they started arguing over the colour. One of the guys from Aston Martin said it should be graphite, a gunmetal grey. Barbara asked: 'What colour do you think it should be, James?'
Everyone knows that Bond's Aston Martin has got to be silver. The graphite was too grey; it needed to be lighter. On the other hand you don't want a silver that's too light otherwise it will just look rubbish.
We went through the colour chart and found the perfect silver. So there you go, if you didn't like the colour of the DBS in Casino Royale, blame me.
As if that wasn't enough for one day, Aston Martin boss Ulrich Betz asked Daniel and me if we were ready for a test drive. Which car did we want to go out in first - the new DB9 Sport or an immaculate 1964 platinum DB5 formerly owned by George Harrison?
Barbara was laughing. Daniel and I looked like a couple of eight-year-olds who had just been told they could have any toy in the shop.
Daniel took the DB5 and I drove the DB9 Sport, blatting it around the test track accompanied by drivers telling us to go 'faster' and really 'push it', which we happily did.

At the time, newspapers were opposed to Daniel being the new Bond and ran ridiculous stories about him, including one that he couldn't drive. As well as being a brilliant actor, I can tell you he's pretty handy behind the wheel.

In the four-and-a-half years Barbara and I were together there were many strange Bond- related moments.
I watched the ice hotel in "Die Another Day" melt in front of me. I accidentally knocked the first script for "Casino Royale" off the counter in Barbara's kitchen and only noticed when Fudge, my clumber spaniel, had reshuffled the pages like a pack of cards. I even babysat Casino Royale Bond girl Eva Green's yappy little dog in Venice while she and Daniel were sailing up the Grand Canal in a fabulous yacht.
Ask any of my friends and they'll tell you that I'm the hardest-working person they know. Ask me and I'll tell you that the hardest-working person I know, and the most generous, is Barbara.

If there's anyone who thinks Barbara got where she is because her dad was a legendary film producer, they are mistaken.
She took over the Bond films with her half-brother in 1990 and has shown herself willing to take risks - and they usually pay off.
Bringing Pierce Brosnan in turned things around for the Bond franchise; hiring Daniel was also an inspired choice.
I remember the sleepless nights spent over the script for" Casino Royale" - the idea of taking it all back to the beginning was a huge gamble. But Barbara had the guts to do it and to hire Daniel when everyone was against it.

She showed me old letters from some film executives who wanted Eddie Murphy to be Bond :haha: . Can you imagine?

Barbara loves what she does and she adores her children - her daughter Angelica and Michael, who she's guardian to. She's a very giving person, and when you've got almost limitless resources that can mean you're giving a hell of a lot. The first year we were together, Barbara gave me a Picasso for my birthday. We had gone to an exhibition of the artist's work at a London gallery on our first date and there was one drawing I couldn't stop looking at. About six months later, Barbara organised a party for my birthday in Chelsea. She had secretly invited 40 of my friends along and they all showed up with little presents.
Then Barbara said: 'I didn't really want to do this here in front of everyone, but, well, here you are. Happy birthday.'

And with that she handed me this bulky rectangular present. It was the Picasso. An absolutely beautiful thing from his last exhibition.

Barbara always said smart money buys art and that Madonna, who had just recorded the theme song for "Die Another Day", had lots of Picassos in her house. Fair enough - only I wasn't Madonna. I was a TV chef. I was recording three episodes of Ready Steady Cook the next day. I arrived at the studio in South London with this painting in a brown paper bag in the boot of my Audi because I wouldn't let it out of my sight. I locked it in my dressing room for six hours while I recorded the shows. I rang Richard, my man at Coutts, and asked if he could help me out with a valuable work of art. He told me to meet him at their branch on the Strand because it had a massive vault. After finishing Ready Steady Cook, I drove into Central London and walked down the Strand with a Picasso under my arm in the brown paper bag, praying nobody mugged me. Richard met me at the door, along with a security guard, and led me to the vault. As Richard was filling in all the paperwork he asked me for the value of the piece, to which I replied: 'I don't know.' I still don't.
He gave me a funny look, so I explained that it was a present. Then he asked what the painting was. I told him it was a Picasso.
'No, it's not,' he laughed. 'Yes, it is,' I said. 'No, it's not,' he insisted. 'People don't just carry Picassos around under their arms in brown paper bags.'

I assured him that this person did and that it was most definitely the genuine article. I had to tell Barbara to stop buying me Picassos after the third one because I couldn't afford the insurance on them.
Instead, she bought me a magnificent pencil drawing of Whitstable by L. S. Lowry instead (I'd mentioned that I liked his work). I still have all four in a vault and I go to see them every now and then.
Barbara also bought me a watch - not just any old watch but a Paul Newman Daytona Rolex, one of the rarest. God knows how she found it.
Barbara had an astonishing ability to remember detail. If you said you liked a painting, six months or a year later she would have found it and bought it for you.
We once saw Ronan Keating on Top Of The Pops and he had this great Tiffany ring on his little finger.

I made an admiring remark about it. Barbara got me an identical ring that Christmas, inscribing inside with our saying: Being with you is as easy as breathing.

During the filming of "Casino Royale", I took my mother shopping in Venice to try to find a present for Barbara.
Mum took me to a jeweller's where she recalled Barbara had liked a ring - a handmade piece of incredibly fine silver and gold that looked almost like lace. I didn't ask the price. I gave the guy my card and at first, when he punched in the total, I thought, 'F****** hell, it's €260,000'. Then I realised that if it was that much, the card would be declined anyway so it didn't really matter. The price tag was actually €26,000 - £17,000. It completely wiped me out. My account stood at zero.

I knew I had a big tax bill coming at the end of the next quarter, so I got my head down and worked extremely hard. Barbara was the first real love of my life. I still think the world of her and always will. I would be there for her tomorrow if anything happened. We've both moved on but it was one of those special relationships where you never forget the times you had together.

Looking back, the days that really stand out for me are those when it was just the two of us. We would switch off our mobile phones and it would be our time.
But that would only happen four or five times a year. If you took away all the money, success, houses and cars we would still have been good together because we clicked. In fact, we would probably still be together. In our own world, she and I were a great partnership. In her world, though, I felt like an onlooker. I had worked hard all my life and succeeded in my career, yet I felt like I had suddenly gone down a long snake right back to the beginning.

If I owned 50 restaurants then maybe I would have been able to move more comfortably in her circles but as it was I could not compete.
The age gap didn't help matters in public. When we went to functions I felt uncomfortable when people looked at me, this nobody, and probably thought, 'He's with her for the money'. They would actually come up to me and say: 'Oh yeah, you're the cook.' But I never wanted anything from Barbara. Maybe it's male pride but there were certain places I refused to go unless I paid. When I said I hated us being apart, she said: 'Why don't you give it all up, then? I'll look after you.' That was the last thing I wanted. To be given a cheque every week? No thanks. I wanted to work.

It was that day we went with Daniel Craig to Aston Martin's headquarters to see the clay model that it hit home how far apart our worlds were. After I had picked the colour, I added: 'Of course, if it was for me personally, I'd go for black on black - black paint, black interior.'
Barbara said: 'Well, have one if you want one.'
I laughed. 'No, it's all right.' She was insistent. 'Have one.' She was genuinely going to buy one for me. This was the Aston Martin DBS, price £180,000.
I told her not to be so ridiculous but she was already saying: 'Yes, we'll have it black, with black interior, and we'll have the chassis number 007.' I continued to say: 'No, we won't.'
Barbara replied: 'Why not? If you want it we'll get it.' I tried to explain to her that you can't just give someone a £180,000 car as a gift. A watch is a gift. A ring is a gift. A £180,000 car is too much.
It wasn't as if it was my birthday or Christmas - it was just a spur of the moment thought. In the end I said: 'If I want something, I'll work for it. Just drop it or we're going to fall out over this.'
But she and Ulrich Betz continued to organise it so I left them to it. I don't know what happened in the end. Barbara probably bought it. She's probably got a black on black Aston Martin DBS, chassis number 007, in a garage somewhere. It was a defining moment in our relationship. Deep down, I knew there was always going to be an imbalance.

I told my mum I didn't think I could handle it any more. 'You're mad,' she said. 'You've got a woman there who adores you, who you absolutely adore. Forget about all the other stuff - that's irrelevant. It's just the two of you.' To walk away from someone you love and who loves you that much is hard. Maybe it was the daftest thing I have done in my life but it was probably the most sensible, too. In the end I think it was for the best, not just for Barbara and me but also for her children. Now, I've been lucky enough to meet more than my share of beautiful and talented women. But my current girlfriend Sally Kettle, Miss England 2001, is special.
It's not because she danced with Nelson Mandela at the Miss World finals in South Africa. It's not because she's a gifted photographer, who is as brilliant behind the camera as she is beautiful in front of it. And it's not even because she's a superstar DJ who has performed all over the world for Vodafone.
No, the thing that makes her the perfect woman, is this: Sally likes cars. She really likes cars. Beauty, brains, a good laugh and a love of driving fast in cool cars. A man cannot ask for more. Her cooking isn't bad, either. A couple of years later, after the Aston Martin DBS had gone into production, I test-drove one for my motoring column in The Mail on Sunday's Live magazine. It looked exactly like that clay model I had seen with Daniel, but in silver, the colour I had picked.

What was it like? Absolutely magic. One of the best cars I've ever driven. I would definitely have one. Or at least I would if I had a spare £180,000.


.

Spree

Bondforumswissenschaftlicher Forscher & Mitglied der QOS-Splittergruppe

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Sonntag, 25. Mai 2014, 11:17

Auch wenn hier nicht direkt mit Dreck um sich geschmissen wird, so finde ich sollten diese Geschichten als das behandelt werden, was sie sind - höchst privat. Diesen Artikel finde ich einen unermesslichen Vertrauensbruch. Das, was eigtl. nur diese beiden Personen betrifft, wird in der Presse breitgetreten. Es hätte nur noch gefehlt, dass er erzählt hätte, was Barbara im Bett so mag - oder kam das noch? Nach den ersten Absätzen habe ich aufgehört zu lesen.
I never left!

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Montag, 26. Mai 2014, 23:28

Ich finde, dass er ausgesprochen positiv über BB spricht, auch dass sie Mut in der Produktion bewiesen hat, der sich bezahlt gemacht hat.

Komisch wird es in den Passagen, wenn er über seine Mami redet und zum Schluss seine neue Flamme preist.

Vielleicht braucht der Junge einfach nur Geld.

Spree

Bondforumswissenschaftlicher Forscher & Mitglied der QOS-Splittergruppe

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Dienstag, 27. Mai 2014, 18:30

Ich hab jetzt den Rest gelesen und finde nach wie vor, dass alles darüber, wie Babs sich in einer Beziehung verhält in der Presse nichts zu suchen hat, gerade wenn es sich dabei nicht um Leute wie Loddarmaddäus oder sonstige handelt, sondern um jemanden, der Privates gerne privat hält. Da ist es auch egal, ob die Aussagen durchaus positiv sind. Und da finde ich es von diesem Ex-Freund schon eine große Dreistigkeit, hier dermaßen aus dem Nähkästchen zu plaudern. Aber das geht vielleicht nur mir so. :ka:
I never left!

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Dienstag, 27. Mai 2014, 21:30

Der Mann fackelt nicht lange, was ihm vor die Flinte läuft nimmt er sich und schreibt hinterher (un-)genüsslich davon.
Der Altersunterschied bei den Damen sei mal dahingestellt.
Für ihn sind Kochen und vor allem die Autos wichtig und für diese benötigt man Geld, viel Geld.

Um ehrlich zu sein, habe ich mich nie für BB Liebesleben interessiert, den Namen James Martin habe ich hier zum ersten Mal gehört.
Keine Ahnung wie erfolgreich er nun wirklich ist, war ganz nett mal zu lesen und ich nehme an, dass BB vorher ihr Einverständnis gegeben hat.

chrimarx

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Freitag, 14. November 2014, 22:23

Ich lese gerade das heute noch sehr, sehr lesenswerte Interview mit BB in der ZEit zum Start von SF im November 2012

http://www.zeit.de/2012/44/James-Bond-Pr…arbara-Broccoli

Darin auch die ultimative Antwort auf folgende Frage:

"ZEIT: Irgendjemand hat mal ausgerechnet, dass zum Zeitpunkt der Dreharbeiten von GoldenEye theoretisch die halbe Weltbevölkerung einen Bond-Film gesehen hatte.

Broccoli: Erstaunlich. Man fragt sich, ob die andere Hälfte wirklich Besseres zu tun hatte."

Geht es larger than life, geht es bondiger.... :D
"Darf ich mal meine Freundin hierhersetzen? Sie belästigt sie nicht, sie ist nämlich tot."

Dieser Beitrag wurde bereits 1 mal editiert, zuletzt von »chrimarx« (14. November 2014, 22:34)