The Spy Who Loved Me: Reflections on the White Lotus
by Krissy Myers (@krissy_myers)
My first true experience with Agent 007 occurred at some point during the late 90’s. I was young and only vaguely familiar with the name James Bond, thanks to my mother cooing over Pierce Brosnan when he took over the role in GoldenEye. Approaching double digits in age and with TBS’s “15 Days of 007” marathon looming, my mother finally proclaimed:
“You’re old enough now. I saw my first James Bond film [Thunderball] in the theatre when I was your age. Watch some films with me.”
I trusted her completely, as by that point, she had yet to steer me wrong. After all, she was the one who introduced me to Star Wars and the Godzilla movies. By my logic at the time, if she had been treating the Bond films, for all intents and purposes, as a rite of passage, surely this English spy chap had something at least as thrilling in store for me.
I soon became engrossed in the James Bond universe. I watched as many of the films as I possibly could with school and bedtime as my only obstacles. I paid close attention to the commercials made just for the occasion featuring Bond girl Grace Jones as a flight attendant aboard a Moonraker-esque airplane. I remember making a special scheduling chart with the following sections: the name of the Bond film, the time it aired and the actor who played him. After seeing most of the films two weeks later, the inevitable question finally came up.
“You like these James Bond movies, huh, Krissy? Who’s your favourite?”
There was absolutely no question in my mind which Bond actor was my favourite. On my chart, his films would have little stars and hearts around his name to highlight his great importance. I couldn’t at the time put into words the reasons why he was my favourite, only that it was the imagery in his films that replayed the most vividly in my mind. While all of the Bond actors were undoubtedly attractive in their own ways, whenever I watched one of his films, I could physically feel the blood rush to my little schoolgirl cheeks. It was a quiet yet intense crush. (more…)
This is the ninth essay in a 24-part series about the James Bond cinemas co-created by Sundog Lit. I encourage everyone to comment and join in what we hope to be an extended conversation about not only the films themselves, but cinematic trends, political and other external influences on the series’ tone and direction.
Of [In]human #Bond_age_ #9: No Shame. Guilty Pleasures and The Man with the Golden Gun
by James David Patrick
The act of claiming a movie as a “guilty pleasure” is a pre-emptory apology. You’re saying, “I love this movie, but before you pause to temper the abusive response flitting through your head or question my sanity, I also have to tell you that I know it’s really bad.” On one hand it’s noble to confess liking a movie that we, as a society, have deemed terrible. We each have individual opinions. We should confess and stand by them with conviction. On the other hand, no matter how you sugarcoat it, you’re still calling the movie you claim to love “a shitburger.”
So that said, let’s talk about the ninth James Bond movie, The Man with the Golden Gun.
While Golden Gun offers great potential and an exciting premise, it suffered because the filmmakers lacked the confidence to stick to their convictions. They added unnecessary humor. They made the villain’s threat global by force-feeding the screenplay, like a goose about to become foie gras, with a bunch of silly rigmarole about a stolen lens that can harness the power of the sun, rather than just allowing, per the initial draft of the screenplay, the threat to remain local (the threat to Bond). Other than squandering a perfectly good premise, they producers again wasted the opportunity to pave new ground for the Bond character and franchise. (They’d previously avoided using Fleming’s revenge premise contained within the novel You Only Live Twice as the cinematic response to the death of Tracy Bond.) A villain with no motive beyond besting Bond. Objectively, the movie’s more like the lazy scrapbook of a teenage girl who’s only scrapbooking because her best friend thought it would be a fun activity to share even though she’d really rather just people watch and drink an Orange Julius at the mall. Golden Gun takes on the appearance of a series of vignettes from a dozen different films slapped together into something that resembles a logical narrative. And by “resembles” I mean to say that it has credits to denote the beginning and the end.
Objectively, The Man with the Golden Gun is a mess. Subjectively, I can’t help but love it. I suppose that would fit the definition of a guilty pleasure.
The Man with the Golden Gun: Francisco Scaramanga Or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bond
by James Longshaw (@JLongshanks7)
The Man With The Golden Gun (G. Hamilton, UK, 1974) a name that struck horror and ridicule in the hearts and minds of Bond fans for the best part of 30 years until a certain 2002 effort. It represented the end of the “Cubby” Broccoli and Harry Saltzman relationship. Indeed it was a film of lasts, as it was the title of Ian Fleming’s final book to be released posthumously. To date, it is the last to be released in the succeeding year of a previous film. But is it really that bad? Join me and discover a multitude of reasons why you should stop worrying and love this Bond.
TMWTGG begins as it intends to continue with a “House of Fun.” This house features many a trap for the unsuspecting hitman, including models, mirrors and pitfalls. What could be more fun than seeing the primary villain’s lair in all of its splendour? From this point we are already drawn in with the knowledge that our hero will be treading this same tricky path at some point in the film, especially when we see a replica of him getting a few finger tips from said villain.
It’s not long before we are treated to Lulu’s rip roaring Man with the Golden Gun title theme.
Now I’m not a massive fan of the shouting Scot but for me this theme works. It ticks all the boxes in terms of loud and proud instruments (some bold brass, shredding guitar riffs and powerful percussion) and suggestive lyrics. Kudos must go to Don Black for managing to fit such a long title into the track along with building up the mystique of the villain. From this theme we can deduce that he is wealthy (“charges a million a shot”), that he is top of his game (“an assassin second to none”) and that he derives sexual pleasure from his line of work (I’ll leave you to guess the lyric). We also have the vast array of naked female flesh on display along with multiple flashes of the titular weapon. All of this in less than three minutes is no mean feat!
We soon join our hero as he is presented with an interesting conundrum. A golden bullet with his number on it. From here on in we are thrown into the rest of the adventure much like Bond. We see everything from boat chases to flying cars and more in between. I could very easily continue with everything that is great within the narrative but I’d like to think that we are all very familiar with the story and so will break down the main reasons why I feel The Man with the Golden Gun is the best Bond film.
Another reason why I love TMWTGG is the Bond girls.
I will gladly admit that Britt Ekland as the bumbling Mary Goodnight is possibly the most hopeless Bond girl until Stacey Sutton and Christmas Jones, but like them she isn’t too bad on the eye – she worked for Peter Sellers anyway! She also plays her part in some of the more humorous exchanges including being the “butt” of a situation in the control room, having a cosy night in Bond’s wardrobe and who could forget Phuyuck?
Goodnight is complimented with the glamorous but enigmatic Andrea Anders played by Maud Adams. Again she is very pleasing on the eye (maybe it’s because I like Swedish women) but also has a major influence on the story as it is she who brings Bond and Scaramanga together. From her very first scene with Bond in which she plays part in one of the more fascinating exchanges of the Roger Moore era, she manages to bring out an aggressive streak from our hero. A rare treat indeed. I am also impressed with the chemistry that Adams has with Christopher Lee and for this she really is a girl in a million – which is ironic as that is also how much the shot cost to kill her!
The locations in The Man with the Golden Gun are yet another reason to love this film. The unforgettable “Bond Island” of Phuket plays host to most of the action in the film with its classy beach, imposing mushroom like formations and hidden alcoves. This for me is truly the pinnacle of Bond sets and the best part is that it is all natural – not a $1 million Ken Adam set in sight!
The film also displays two further memorable locations, both of which are in Hong Kong. The Dragon Garden or “grisly land” in Bond terms features a fine array of statues (some a little too lifelike) monuments and structures. We also see a fine use of a sunken ship in the Harbour – who said the bad guys always get the best lairs? All of this adds to the stunning look of the film but keeps respectful to the Bond tradition.
Now to the final reason why I feel TMWTGG is the best Bond film. He is certainly the biggest (excluding J.W. Pepper for width) and best character of the film in my opinion.
I am of course talking about the irrepressible Christopher Lee – the man who was born to play a Bond villain and play it he does in the guise of Francisco Scaramanga. From the very start of the film we see a character that dominates the screen, with an imposing frame and an air of mystery about him. Admittedly we have seen this before in the series with characters such as Tee Hee and would see it again with the likes of Jaws but these are merely henchmen; killing machines that act on orders. Scaramanga is a different beast as he works of his own free will, a brilliant example of this being the way he calculatingly disposes of his employer Hai Fat to go solo.
In every scene we see Scaramanga he oozes class. From his impeccable dress sense to his devilish sense of humour we see a character that is similar to our hero but at the same time the polar opposite. One works for “a hearty well done from her Majesty the Queen and a pittance of a pension” while the other gets a million dollars a contract. Two different lives you would say, but in the very same scene Scaramanga gets under the skin of an equally well-attired Bond by making him admit that “killing you would be a pleasure”. This makes Scaramanga a more menacing type of villain as he barely acknowledges his status even when delivering his chilling “indisputable masterpiece” speech. At least Blofeld, et al knew what they were doing was wrong and would use any means necessary to get to their aims.
The film builds up to the climactic showdown of these two expert assassins. The tension is as good as anything in the entire series with fine pacing and a few shocks up its sleeve. When Bond emerges victorious, as he so often does in these situations, he does so in a fitting manner. There is nothing of the over-inflated deaths in previous films just a plain simple shot that befits the way Scaramanga lived. Sometimes the simple ways are the best!
So what of Bond himself?
I feel Roger Moore is clearly settling in for the long haul with The Man with the Golden Gun. The ingredients are all here for a classic Moore film – fantastic villains, beautiful women, great humour and scenes that defy explanation: in this case the AMC Hornet spiral jump. To summarise, TMWTGG may not have got its “indisputable masterpiece” but it is certainly a fascinating part of the James Bond story.
First Bond Movie: At the cinema it was GoldenEye. I watched so many from a young age that I’m not entirely sure which the first Bond I saw was but I remember Goldfinger leaving a big impression on me.
Favourite Bond Actor: Roger Moore for his larger than life adversaries, brilliant humour and sheer longevity.
Favourite Bond Girl: If I’m thinking superficially and saying looks the much maligned Christmas Jones may have a chance. As it is I like the complete package so would say the “triple X” rated Anya Amasova. A fascinating Bond girl as she is a female equivalent that could kill him at any time. I’m also a sucker for a faux Russian accent!
How I Discovered #Bond_age_: I believe I was discovered through a friend. I like what I saw and the rest as they say is history.
First #Bond_age_ Live Tweet: I’m still awaiting my official debut.
This essay on A View to a Kill is the 14th in a 24-part series about the James Bond cinemas. I encourage everyone to comment and join in on an extended conversation about not only the films themselves, but cinematic trends, political and other external influences on the series’ tone and direction.
Of [In]human #Bond_age_ #14: To the Brink and Back with AVTAK
by James David Patrick
When I sought volunteers to write about their favorite Bond movies as part of the “My Favorite #Bond_age_” series, I received requests to write about all but four Bond movies. I never even needed to beg to get not only one, but two volunteers to write about their affection for Diamonds Are Forever (shocking). What was the first movie in chronological order that failed to find a proponent? A View to a Kill. Not even nostalgia could rescue it. I didn’t necessarily find this surprising. It wasn’t like anyone was going to write about the killer Duran Duran music video instead of the 57-year old Roger Moore vehicle about which Moore even said in a 2007 interview “I was only about 400 years too old for the part.” Aside from Moore’s age, one might cite a bounty of various narrative missteps and curious creative decisions. Casting Tanya Roberts. The “California Girls” snowboard gag. Of the 23 official EON-produced James Bond films, A View to a Kill checks in with the lowest rating on Rottentomatoes.com at 36%. Roger Moore has made it clear that the film was his least favorite. Despite a number of stories about on-set difficulties corroborated by John Glen and other crewmembers, Moore won’t cite specifics (being the ultimate professional and gentleman) about his troubles with co-stars Roberts and Grace Jones. Taking into account its bad reputation and isolated buffoonery, A View to a Kill still offers plenty of fodder for discussion, not necessarily just criticism. Fish in a barrel and all that. This #Bond_age_ entry will be more about the progressive elements that ultimately flail and flounder, like Tanya Roberts from the Golden Gate Bridge. (more…)
Live and Let Die: From the Bronx to the Bayou and Beyond
by Greg McCambley (@GregMcCambley)
It’s hard to remember exactly when I first saw Live and Let Die.
As a Bond fan growing up in the 70’s, chances to watch the earlier movies were limited to the occasional video store rental or TV broadcast. I remember taping every Bond movie as it was shown on TV and watching those broadcast dubs over and over again. Certainly LALD was among them, and I have no doubt that, whenever I first saw it, it was the title sequence that hooked me. The image of a naked woman in shadow, flames flickering on-screen. Then a zoom into another woman’s wide-open eyes. Her head turns into a skull. You layer the simple yet ultimately iconic theme song over the images and you have the recipe for movie magic. Who wouldn’t be mesmerised by that? However, this was only the start of my appreciation of Live and Let Die.
One of the benefits of looking back at a movie one’s watched for decades is the ability to appreciate the finer subtleties noticed upon repeat viewings. Back in the good old days of Bond watching, I don’t really remember caring whether Bond was played by Moore or Connery (or that other fellow.) The important thing was that I was watching James Bond. Nowadays, though, I’ve come to appreciate Live and Let Die a lot more because it was such a departure from the Connery Bonds, that it needed to be. Roger Moore had to put his own stamp on the character and he did an absolutely stellar job of it in Live and Let Die. He was a more urbane Bond to Connery’s physical Bond. His quips and mannerisms work well in LALD. Of course, a good Bond is only as good as the villains he fights. Luckily for Moore, he had some of the best for his first outing.
We first meet our villain in the opening sequence, as Head of State from San Monique in the UN. Kananga is there to watch the first of three murders. It’s rare that we get to see the primary villain so early in a Bond film, and the reason we get to see him is that, as is revealed later, the British have been watching him. The murders are Kananga’s retaliation. His heroin operation aside, as a Head of State, he is the highest profile target to which Bond has ever been assigned. Kananga is a formidable foe, with virtual armies in both San Monique and the United States. I’ve always loved Kananga as a villain. He brings an energy to the film that makes it (and him) so watchable. His henchmen as well are some of the best in the entire series. Tee Hee with his towering height, hook hand, and sense of humour. Baron Samedi as the enigmatic, yet entirely terrifying, well, Baron Samedi; and silent Whisper. Tee Hee has some great moments with Bond, not least of which is their scene at the Gator farm. And speaking of the Gator farm, the locations are another strong feature for Live and Let Die.
After the dusty blandness of Las Vegas in Diamonds Are Forever, Live and Let Die is an absolute breath of fresh air.
New York is a city with an energy and a vibrancy all its own. It’s hard to believe that Bond never visited it before (or since). Moore’s Bond fits into the city nicely (for the most part). Jamaica as San Monique also gives the movie a nice Caribbean vibe (a nice callback to Bond’s earlier missions to that area.) For me, though, it’s New Orleans and the Louisiana Bayou that really stands out to me. I used to think of that whole section of the film as padding. But now, I find it’s the part of the film that I look forward to the most. The Gator farm itself is a very unique location and it remains one of the most menacing death traps that Bond’s ever faced. The stunt run across the gators is one of the most iconic moments for Roger Moore’s Bond and, quite frankly, the entire series. Then there’s that boat chase across the Bayou. It’s certainly one of the longest and most breathtaking chases in Bond film history. A strong mix of great action, beautiful scenery and superb stuntwork. It’s great fun to watch over and over again. So Live and Let Die has some great visuals, but it also has some of the greatest music of any Bond film.
The soundtrack is, today, one of my absolute favourites of the entire series. It gets regular play on my iPod, and listening to it sweeps me back to the 70’s awesomeness of the film. George Martin’s score blends the right mix of Bond, funk, and Caribbean music together, meanwhile giving it a sinister edge. For example, watching the movie’s opening sequence, we’re treated to the Bond theme, New Orleans spiritual jazz, and a sinister orchestral piece in rapid succession. It shows the disparate influences which Martin was able to bring together and blend into an extremely tight and memorable soundtrack. It’s hard not to listen to tracks like “Whisper Who Dares,” “Baron Samedi’s Dance of Death,” and “Trespassers Will Be Eaten” and not revisit those sequences from the film. That is what the best soundtracks do, and one of the chief reasons that Live and Let Die remains my favourite “one-off” soundtrack from the entire series. Like the casting and locations, the score is another chief that Live and Let Die is such a fun film to watch. Having said all that, though, it does have some issues.
It’s almost impossible, however, to ignore the problems at the heart of Live and Let Die.
The chief problem is the confused racial message. The white versus black dynamic, for example. Here, pretty much every single black person in the film is working for Kananga/Mr. Big (either directly or indirectly). Take the New Orleans sequences, for example. Murder is committed in broad daylight on his behalf, yet everyone watching does nothing. The voodoo scenes contain the typical Hollywood stereotyping of the religion. Then there’s the whole question of why the British were so interested in Kananga to begin with. We start the film with Kananga obviously retaliating for something via the murder of three British spies. Yet, we (and Bond) never learn why they were doing going after him in the first place. We learn his plans eventually, but they appear to be related solely to the U.S. So were the British spying on him for the CIA? Maybe, but Leiter seems to make it clear that the CIA were watching Kananga on behalf of the British. So again the question remains, why were they after him? As mentioned before, Kananga is a Head of State. Sending a 00-agent suggests that the ultimate goal is assassination. Such a series of events in the real world would result in worldwide outrage. Live and Let Die could never be produced as it is nowadays. It is a product of its time and maybe therein lies the secret of its appeal.
Bond films aren’t known for their realism. They are, first and foremost, fantasies. They manage to appeal to the sense of adventure in people for dangerous villains, beautiful women, and magnificent locations. Appealing to this sense of adventure is part of what made the pulps an important source of 20th-century entertainment. Live And Let Die is, perhaps, the ultimate blending of the pulps and James Bond. am a fan of the pulps, and Live and Let Die absolutely fits the pattern of those old stories. It’s been one of my favourites for almost three decades now, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.
First Bond Movie: The Living Daylights
Favorite Bond Actor: Timothy Dalton
Favorite Bond Girl: Michelle Yeoh (Wai Lin)
How I Discovered #Bond_age_: I was in the right place (Twitter) at the right time.
This essay on Live and Let Die is the eighth in a 24-part series about the James Bond cinemas. I encourage everyone to comment and join in on an extended conversation about not only the films themselves, but cinematic trends, political and other external influences on the series’ tone and direction.
Of [In]human #Bond_age_ #8: What You Write About When You’re Writing About Live and Let Die
by James David Patrick
Live and Let Die is a powder keg. Both behind the scenes and on camera, Live and Let Die offers more controversy per minute than any other James Bond movie. This is a fact. It is incontrovertible and has been proven by very meticulous scientific research. Thus, pinpointing one talking point seems foolish. Instead, I’m going to try to make all the controversial pieces fit together in a mosaic of images and cultural artifacts in a roundabout way that somehow ends up shedding light on the movie’s two major talking points: Roger Moore taking the Walther from Sean Connery and the problematic topic of race.
I’m going to begin by highlighting one word. Panic. (more…)
