My personal favorite among the lighter Bonds. Fun, luscious cinematography and a dreamy Marvin Hamlisch score.
The Internet, and media platforms across the board, have been ablaze the last few weeks in the run-up to the release of
Skyfall,
the 23rd official installment in the James Bond series of spy movies.
The film has received incredibly high praise, both for its comparatively
dense, character-focused narrative and yet another impressive turn from
Daniel Craig as the battle weary secret agent. The reception to
Skyfall has
been so strong, in fact, that it has caused more than a few to label it
as the best Bond film of all time, and there has been increasing
momentum backing Daniel Craig's bid to usurp Sean Connery as the best
screen Bond ever.
Unsurprisingly this has caused every man and his
exploding pen to weigh in with their personal favourite of the series,
and - as Christopher Campbell nicely cobbled together in his recent
piece on Movies.com - there seem to be two clear winners - Guy
Hamilton's
Goldfinger from 1964 (Third of the series, and for Connery) and Martin Campbell's 2006 reboot,
Casino Royale
(21st in the series, and Craig's first). While I could launch into the
reasons why I disagree with both of those choices (there's a whole other
article in why
Goldfinger is in desperate need of being
reassessed), instead I will state my case for the film I am convinced is
the best Bond film to-date: Lewis Gilbert's
The Spy Who Loved Me from 1977.
I grew up with James Bond. As an impressionable young lad from
the South East of England, born into a comfortable middle class family and who
shared his first name with Great Britain's finest gentleman spy, it was
unsurprising I gravitated towards the Bond films. I honestly can't remember
which was the first I saw, or when I saw it. The Bond films have always been a
part of my life - and certainly by the time John Glen's A View To A Kill opened
at the ABC in Swindon in the summer of 1985, I was all caught up and desperate
for my mother to take me to see it. When I finally did, I was far from
disappointed. As a hopefully more discerning 35-year-old, I shake my head at my
8-year-old self, but I loved A View To A Kill. But that said, despite the
improvised snowboarding, the wheezy chase up the Eiffel Tower and the incessant
deranged giggling of Christopher Walken's Aryan microchip baron, Max Zorin, it
wasn't my favourite.
The Spy Who Loved Me, which opened the same year I was born,
is the perfect Bond film. It literally has everything. Were you to compose a
checklist of elements that absolutely must appear in a James Bond film to make
it so, they are all present and correct in Spy. Not just that, but in almost
every instance, they are the best example of each trait that the series has
produced. The film opens with a jaw-dropping pre-title credit sequence, which
sees Bond (actually Rick Sylvester) ski off the precipice of Mount Asgard in
Canada's Northwest Territories (doubling for Austria), only for a Union
Jack-emblazoned parachute to open, accompanied by the blaring trumpets of Monty
Norman's seminal theme. It was not until Goldeneye in 1995 that a pre-title
sequence would come close to rivaling Spy for sheer audacity, and that film
required two stunts, both of which are essentially riffs on Sylvester's BASE
jump, even to compete.
The sequence is followed by one of the Bond series' most
enduring theme songs, Carly Simon's Nobody Does It Better, before launching
into a Cold War plot that ups the stakes of You Only Live Twice. Instead of
rockets, Spy sees a nefarious megalomaniac start hijacking nuclear submarines,
from first the British, then the Soviet navies. When the tracking system used
pops up on the black market in Cairo, M sends Bond to Egypt, where his path
crosses that of Major Anya Amasova (Barbara Bach), aka Agent XXX of the KGB.
The two countries form an uneasy alliance, with Amasova proving - at least to
begin with - the most feisty, resourceful and independent Bond girl the series
had yet seen. She was also drop dead gorgeous, and harbouring a personal
grievance that would see her relationship with Bond come to a vengeful head
later in the film.
The villain, reclusive billionaire Karl Stromberg, fits the
Bond nemesis mold perfectly - rich, eccentric, murderous and hell-bent on a
typically bonkers plot for world domination. Using his newly acquired nuclear
subs, he intends to destroy both world superpowers and begin a new life for
himself and the rest of humanity...under the sea. Quite how his technically
impressive, but relatively small submersible lair, Atlantis, will accommodate
the entire population of the planet is never fully explained, but that's part
of what makes his plan so ludicrous, and by extension, so dastardly. In the
meantime, he needs to clean up the mess of the missing tracking system. So
naturally, he blows up the two scientists that developed it, feeds the girl who
stole it to his pet sharks - courtesy of a trapdoor in his private elevator -
and sends metal-mouthed assassin Jaws after the microfilm.
Forget Red Grant, Odd Job, or even the diminuitive Nick
Nack, Richard Kiel's hulking, silent and extremely deadly Jaws is the greatest
Bond henchman of the entire canon. He dwarfed Roger Moore, who at 6' 1" hardly
cuts a slight figure himself, bit through metal chains, tore a van to pieces
with his bare hands, and eventually wins out in a scuffle with a couple of
hungry sharks. Jaws was awesome, and proved so popular, that he was brought
back for a second round in the succeeding film, Moonraker - the only time a
villain besides Ernst Stavro Blofeld himself has ever returned!
While the series had ventured below the waves in the past,
most notably in 1965's Thunderball, nothing could compare to the sheer scale of
The Spy Who Loved Me. At the time of its release, it was the most expensive
film of the series, costing US$14 million, and the ambitious production design
work of Ken Adam demanded that an entire new soundstage be built at Pinewood
Studios - which is still called the 007 Stage to this day. But it was not the
behind-the-scenes drama that attracted me to the film, but the action up there
on the screen. Not only did Stromberg have a giant supertanker, the Liparus,
whose bow could open up and literally swallow submarines whole, but James Bond's
car could go underwater!! Say what you like about the Aston Martin DB5 and its
ejector seat, Bond's brilliant white Lotus Esprit turned into a submarine! It's
wheels folded in, it could drop mines to deter attacking divers and it could
even shoot down helicopters!
The reasons why The Spy Who Loved Me is the perfect Bond
film just goes on and on. He skis backwards while shooting people with his customized
ski-pole rifle, he walks into a room, meets a beautiful woman who immediately
throws herself at him, only for Bond to use her as a human shield from a hidden
gunman - all within the space of about 15 seconds. He rides a camel, a jet ski
and diffuses a nuclear bomb. He fights Jaws on a train - a series staple - in the
ruins of Karnak Temple in Egypt, electrocutes him in the mouth and ultimately
outwits his colossal opponent by using a giant magnet! Bond has to deal with
other goons and henchmen too, most notably egg-headed Sandor (Milton Reid), whom
he mercilessly lets fall to his death, all the while keeping his demeanour cool
and eyebrow cocked.
Many detractors will instantly back away from The Spy Who
Loved Me because it stars Roger Moore, and while I don't think it's his best performance
as 007 - for that, watch the harder edged For Your Eyes Only - here he strikes
the perfect balance between action hero, debonair British gent and cheeky womanizer.
Moore's interpretation of the character may well be a far cry from Ian Fleming's
original Bond, but what Moore brought to the character and developed during his
tenure did as much good for the character as harm. There is a case to be made
that Moore was already too old to play Bond when he landed the role in 1971, and
by 1985 was making a mockery of the whole franchise, but right here he gets the
balance dead right, which in turn feeds an incredibly playful onscreen
chemistry with Bach's Amasova.
What else is there to say about this film? It is
huge in
scale, lavish in its design, fast-paced, sexy and exciting throughout.
It
perfectly captures the mood of the period, while staying true to the
Bond
legacy and in many cases besting the familiar tropes that make the Bond
series
unique. It opens huge and just gets bigger as it goes along, ending with
perhaps the ultimate example of the nookie bust/innuendo punchline, as M
and
General Gogol peer into the escape pod, only for Bond to quip that he's
"keeping the British end up, Sir." As Carly Simon so eloquently states
in the film's
theme song, nobody does it better than James Bond, and for my money,
Bond has
never done it better than in
The Spy Who Loved Me.
From
Hollywood.com
By
Brian Salisbur
The agent designation: 007. You already know the name. The Bond franchise has been in existence for half a century, with
Skyfall
marking its twenty-third official entry. Not even the likes of Jason
Voorhees or Freddy Krueger can boast sequels of that quantity. Why do we
love
James Bond
so much? Is it his jet setting, womanizing lifestyle? Is it his ability
to thwart even the most elaborate and well-crafted world domination
schemes from a colorful rouges gallery of madmen? Whatever the case,
with the next two films already in development, Bond shows no signs of
slowing down.
The James Bond series has cast an overwhelming
shadow over the landscape of film, particularly that of spy cinema. More
particular still, American spy films have struggled to capture the same
degree of phenomenal success as has been enjoyed by the Bond movies
since the 1960s. While it is true that the various 007 films do not
comprise the entirety of British spy cinema, it is without question the
titan of the genre and therefore the paradigm by which the American
counterparts must be judged. So how has America tried, and failed, to
acquire this elusive cinematic target?
Comedic License
One
of the earliest attempts for American films to capitalize on the James
Bond trend, and indeed one of the first to yield any sort of franchise,
were Bond parodies. In the late sixties, two separate American film
series sprang up poking fun at England’s deadliest agent. The first
starred
James Coburn as Derek Flint, an agent of ZOWIE fighting the forces of evil in
Our Man Flint and
In Like Flint. At almost the same time, crooner
Dean Martin starred as
Matt Helm, a photographer/spy in a total of four film adventures including 1966’s
The Silencers and Murder’s Row. Both of these series were takeoffs on the swinging, mod lifestyle that Bond was so often afforded by his occupation.
America
has been monumentally prolific in the area of spy spoofs; rivaling and
even possibly exceeding our output of more straight-laced fare. Movies
like
Hop Scotch and the movies based on the
Get Smart television series eventually gave way to
Spies Like Us,
Top Secret, and the notably dreadful
Leonard Part 6. The most interesting aspect of this is that the
Austin Powers
franchise, which netted three installments, riffs as much on the
parodies of Bond as on Bond himself. It would seem we have long been of
the mindset of “if you can’t beat ‘em, mock ‘em.”
Counter-Intelligence
James
Bond is a loyal agent of Her Majesty’s government. This should be all
rights limit his appeal to American audiences. But the writers,
including Ian Fleming in the novels, were smart enough to design stories
that placed the whole of the world in peril and not just England.
However, Bond’s reverence toward his own country is one primary
difference between Bond films and American spy movies. Where James is a
willing instrument of his government, a vast majority of the spy films
on this side of the pond illustrate a profound mistrust of our own
government.
With Bond films, we are privy to the inner workings
of MI-6, or at least the fictional version of MI-6 they had constructed.
Our debonair lead, and therefore the audience, is hardly ever in the
dark about even the most top-secret parameters of his missions. In the
states, the heroes are often used and betrayed by shadowy factions of
U.S. intelligence. This frightening cloak and dagger betrayal can be
seen in the likes of Sidney Pollack’s
Three Days of the Condor and more recent films like
Spy Game,
The Recruit, and even the Denzel Washington/Ryan Reynolds 2012 film
Safe House.
While
we could dissect the myriad historical headlines that may have
influenced this movement in American spy films, the fact is that these
movies don’t lend themselves well to sequels. Once the curtain is pulled
back and either the villains are laid to waste or their ultimate scheme
has gotten the better of our hero, there are few other places the story
can go. Either result would not logically allow for that character to
return to spy work so the overarching continuity would be completely
absent. These films, by their very nature, can’t really latch on in the
same way as did Bond.
The Impossible Task and The
Bourne Exemplar
The
two films that have managed their way around this problem are the two
that have been the most successful, and in fact some of the only,
non-comedy American spy franchises. In 1998,
Brian De Palma adapted the television series
Mission: Impossible
into a film. Again, here we had a villain that was revealed to be an
inside man, a former ally. However, the team dynamic added a new
dimension to the proceedings and the action set pieces provided a nice
counterbalance to the complex intrigue. That team dynamic would be
somewhat lost in the next
Mission: Impossible movie, but from then on it became more and more a staple of the series.
That
team dynamic was divergent from the solitary hero that is Bond, however
there were elements that made their way into the movie from the
original TV series that play directly to Bond fans. The idea of the
characters requiring their own theme song harkened back to Monty
Norman’s fabulous signature Bond music. Again, this was not an invention
of the movie, but a reflection of the days when America also used TV as
a conduit for capitalizing on the Bond-inspired spy craze. The
high-tech, and highly specialized gadgets used by the IMF team are also
very reminiscent of the devices 007 uses to escape dire situation after
dire situation.
A few years later, Universal produced a big screen version of the
Jason Bourne
character created by Robert Ludlum. Matt Damon’s amnesic CIA agent
trying to reclaim his identity was enough of a twist on the concept of
the treacherous government agency to enthrall audiences. The singular
hero who was well skilled in the art of kicking ass found comfortable
purchase in the hearts of those who idolized Bond. Plus, the Bourne
series, like Bond, was drawing from a rich literary tradition. Also,
like
Mission: Impossible and the best of the 007 series, the
Bourne movies often struck that perfect balance between captivating plot
points and spectacular action sequences.
That last component may
seem part and parcel with contemporary espionage actioners, but one of
the most painful attempts to sell an “American Bond” to audiences was
XXX starring Vin Diesel. Among its innumerable flaws,
XXX
was so singularly concerned with action sequences that the story was an
appalling mess. This necessary balanced approach may also explain why
The Bourne Legacy
caused so much of a problem. It wasn’t the changing of the guard in the
lead role from Damon to Renner, not playing the same character but
certainly passing the torch, that caused the critical whiplash. We had
become accustomed to that sort of changeover thanks to the Bond series
and its seven different lead actors. But the story was so weak and the
action scenes so poorly shot that it couldn’t possibly maintain the
series’ energy.
Will we ever concoct the right formula to foster a
spy series anywhere near as formidable as Bond? It’s hard to say. We’ve
tried countless times to no avail, but the future of both the
Bourne and
Mission: Impossible franchises remains to be seen.
[Photo Credit: Sony Pictures/Paramount Pictures]
From JoBlo
This week the 23rd James Bond film,
SKYFALL,
will open nationwide (after already making a killing overseas) and we
will finally be able to witness what is shaping up to be one of the best
Bond films ever made. Certainly there are highs (
CASINO ROYALE)
and lows (MOONRAKER) in Bond’s tenure onscreen, but one thing has
remained consistent: the integrity of the character. For all the
creative changes in terms of casting and directing, the Bond films have
remained consistent in tone, character, theme, stunts, gadgets, and of
course, babes.
After
50 years one would think that Bond would have undergone at least one
major facelift that took the character in another direction entirely.
And yet, even after decades of being a suave, debonair spy who sips
shaken-not-stirred martinis, wears a bow-tie tux, beds women like it’s a
second career, and ruthlessly slays enigmatic and theatrical bad guys
with sharp violence and snarky puns, the character remains relatively
unchanged. In short, Bond is a bit of a miracle.
So, how is it
that Bond has managed to remain a cinematic staple without suffering a
major overhaul or loss of identity? And, furthermore, how can we get
the rest of Hollywood to pay attention to that model of success? The
real champions of Bond’s success are the franchise’s owners, who have
stood by the brand of Bond from the very beginning. Starting with
Albert R. Broccoli, who produced under his Eon Productions, the series
has remained “in the family” so to speak (although not Bond creator Ian
Fleming’s), which is currently run by Albert’s heirs, Barbara Broccoli
and Michael G. Wilson.
Although it hasn’t been all smooth sailing, with various legal battles,
bankruptcy, contract disputes, etc., the simple fact remains that
through each hurdle, Bond was able to retain the essence of Bond. He
didn’t come back from a hiatus as a beer-swigging American or a British
SAS super Soldier, or some other variation that would take him out of
the character Fleming created and make him into some other cliché.
Instead, Bond has remained perfectly intact.
From Sean Connery
to George Lazenby to Roger Moore to Timothy Dalton to Pierce Brosnan,
and now to Daniel Craig, each actor has embodied the essence of the
character in film so exactly that there was never a need to re-establish
or recreate the character in some ludicrous way. Nothing was broken
that needed fixing.
CASINO ROYALE
(2006) acts as somewhat of a reboot, but doesn’t interrupt the essence
of the character, which is never dependent on history; just character.
While some story threads have carried on between films, the one thing
that’s remained the same is Bond himself, regardless of who’s wearing
his face.
The
producers have maintained a strong model for Bond, which is to keep the
momentum and the integrity, while brining in fresh talent to weave a
new chapter of the British spy’s adventures. The actors are
interchangeable, each adding their own special touch to the character,
but we never have to start over or revisit an origin or suffer some
massive overhaul that smears the very product it is trying to sell. One
of the few things you can count on with a Bond film is that you will
see James Bond 007 as he was always intended to be, not some half-assed
trending character that will be obsolete in a few years.
What
this 50-year success story does is teach a lesson to the franchise
builders of Hollywood, who seem to enjoy tearing down and building up
their properties (
THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN,
THE BOURNE LEGACY,
HIGHLANDER,
ROBOCOP,
TOTAL RECALL,
DAREDEVIL,
FANTASTIC FOUR,
X-MEN,
etc.) until they reach some magic money number that “allows” them to
progress to a sequel. Instead of just picking up and carrying on (which
is my advice for the next
Batman franchise) with who the character(s) are, the goal becomes changing everything to fit a marketing model.
It’s
not all doom and gloom for franchises out there as Marvel Studios has
demonstrated with its successful string of Phase One films, which also
benefitted from the faith in their characters. Another model that has
taken great cue’s from the Bond franchise is that of
MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE,
which has seen new creators tackle each film, while still retaining the
heroic antics of Tom Cruise’s Ethan Hunt (although Hunt is arguably
less idiosyncratic than Bond).
Ultimately,
the success of Bond comes down to the genuine care taken to preserve
the integrity of his character, which has made it one of the
highest-grossing franchises in history (and still going strong) and a
household name all over the world. Not every film is franchise-worthy,
but those that have the potential should look to Bond as a measure of
what “right” looks like. In the end, the old cliché is the truest one;
character is everything.
James
Bond's 23rd adventure hasn't even hit theaters yet, but that's not
stopping producers Barbara Broccoli and Michael G. Wilson from moving
forward with the 24th installment. The yet-to-be-titled pic will be
penned by John Logan, who was brought in to rewrite 
Added to that, it seems that director Christopher Nolan's interest in
James Bond hasn't fallen on deaf ears and that Wilson and Broccoli are
"interested" in him directing a Bond film. Well, no shit. Producers
are famous for hiring British talent and Nolan certainly fits that
bill. It's all speculation in that department for now, but what
beautiful speculation it is.
