this is my design

The upshot of all this is that seeing Mikkelsen off screen is a bit of a shock. First, he has two eyes, neither of which is oozing blood. Second, he looks like a rippling Hollywood stud. More Bond than Bond villain, you might say. The first sight I catch of him is outside the London hotel where we’re meeting. Mikkelsen is standing in a doorway, tanned and tall, wearing a leather jacket and jeans and puffing on a cigarette. He has a startlingly handsome, wolfish face: crafty eyes, cheekbones so chiselled you could cut yourself on them, and cupid’s bow lips that quiver readily between a pout and a snarl. It’s a face that could only belong to an actor or a model.

Connivers of modern Florence.