Review: Doctor Strange (2016)

I saw Marvel's Doctor Strange last weekend. With its focus on magic, astral projection, and alternate dimensions, I figured it would be visually impressive and might deviate from the usual, standardized Marvel movie look and feel. On that front I was pleased; despite its obvious visual redundancies with Batman Begins and Inception, I basically enjoyed Doctor Strange, especially visually. However, I found its Euro-American imperialism and white-male-centeredness to be so bald-faced as to be, at times, unfavorably distracting.

This is not new news -- well in advance of Doctor Strange's release, many commentators expressed concern over the whitewashing of Doctor Strange's the Ancient One, that is, casting a white woman to play a role established in the comics as Tibetan. Sadly, the film's Orientalism runs even deeper than Tilda Swinton's casting. As Charles Pulliam-Moore writes in his essential and insightful article about Doctor Strange the character,

While no reference is made to Strange’s race or ethnicity in his early stories, he’s consistently drawn with slanted eyes and dramatic, convex eyebrows . . . to argue that Strange was always white is to willfully ignore the visual language that comics use to tell their stories.

Pulliam-Moore concludes that "There’s no reason that this character has to be white and if canon is really as important as hostile fanboys make it out to be, then Strange should have simply been portrayed by an Asian actor." That is hard to imagine in today's Hollywood, but it's a compelling idea and a missed opportunity to diversify (rather than further whitewash) the MCU.

The Hollywood Reporter's Graeme McMillan notes that "the Ancient One role really could've/probably should've gone to an Asian actor" and much as I love Swinton, I must agree. Making the Ancient One white is an act of racism, just like Christopher Nolan's revealing the "real" Ra's al Ghul to be white in Batman Begins. This shit really needs to stop, as do the disingenuous, economically motivated protests of innocence. 

The other weird racial thing going on that Chiwetel Ejiofor's Mordo is yet another magical negro of the Morpheus variety here to assist and mentor his white Neo-figure to world fame. Interesting to note -- my girlfriend spotted this -- that the only other time Ejiofor and Strange star Benedict Cumberbatch appear onscreen together is as slave and master in 12 Years a Slave (2013). Yikes!

Further orientalizing Doctor Strange is its climactic third act battle, which takes place in Hong Kong, depicted, like Beijing in the Transformers 4 finale, in a mode I call "developing nation poverty porn." I knew we were in trouble as soon as one of the sorcerers training Strange revealed that the three magic portals in their Tibetan base lead to London, New York, and Hong Kong. "In these three cities lie the strongest concentrations of magical energy on Earth or whatever," explains Wong (Benedict Wong). I instantly noticed that these cities are the seat of the British Empire, the seat of the American Empire, and one of the greatest Asian colonies England ever possessed. Hubs of global commerce that speak more to the politics of the real world this minute than they do any narratively explicable layout of magical lay lines. Why do globally significant events only ever happen in the same four or five highly developed world cities in movies?

Of course, I know the real-world answer: money. Global box office. China and East Asia are huge market these days, so influential they can prevent some domestic "flops" from losing money, so by featuring Hong Kong in the climactic sequence and giving sorcerer Wong some of the movie's goddamn funniest lines, Disney (who owns and runs Marvel Studios) hopes to draw in that audience. But these are token gestures -- delightful though it is, Wong's speaking part is quite small, and Doctor Strange is a story about an American white man who learns magic from a Tibetan white woman and uses his newfound powers to defeat another white man.*

Doctor Strange also hedges its financial bets by going mainly where other popular movies have gone before. Its Tibetan mise-en-scene (especially the Kamar-Taj training facility) is identical to that seen in the first act of Batman Begins (2005), and the movie's overall look and visual effects bear striking similarities to Inception -- the sorcery in Strange is basically the same as the dreaming sequences in Inception.** Buildings and landscapes bend and warp, gravity and orientation flips around constantly, character walk (and run, and chase, and fight) on walls and ceilings, and then they use special rings to "wake up" and transport back to their home dimension (or elsewhere). I am not the only critic to notice Doctor Strange's highly derivative visuals.

"Hi, I'm Ducard -- I mean, the Ancient One -- dang, I mean, Ra's al Ghul."

That said, I appreciate that Doctor Strange keeps the number of principal characters low so we are able to (at least minimally) care about each the participants. Mads Mikkelsen's Kaecilius is a bit boilerplate, and his followers just anonymous goons without personalities, but the main "good guys" are fairly distinct and generally likeable. And it is fun to see effects like these and characters like these in a Marvel film, making jokes and having a good time (not usually Nolan's strong suit).

Sadly, Rachel McAdams' Christine is hardly worth mentioning because she is given so little to do in the movie. As Stephen Strange's medical colleague and ambiguously not-quite-love interest, Christine's main job is to stand around gawking amazedly once the titular doctor starts manifesting his magical powers. She performs one crucial surgery, but even then she is being directed by Strange himself. Like Natalie Portman in Thor, she is essentially a "babe scientist" who cannot influence events in the movie since

The extermination of the threat depends not upon scientific knowledge, which the babe scientist has in spades, but rather on brute physical force -- quick reflexes, and combat skills, characteristics only male protagonists possess.†

McAdams' Christine represents a variation on this formula since her medical prowess is found wanting next to Stephen Strange's magical powers rather than his raw brawn -- though magic in this universe seems to be used mainly for manipulating physical reality and for sorcerers to blast and stab each other with. That is, it could aptly be called "brute magical force" and substituted into the above quotation. Thus, Christine is yet another example of a female sidekick character who starts out seeming narratively significant but who is shoved into the background by the film's last act.

Christine sez: "Don't mind me, I'm just here to make you look more awesome." 

There are no other significant female characters in Doctor Strange besides the gender-ambiguous Ancient One played by Tilda Swinton.

David Palmer's well-written Doctor Strange review convincingly exposes several plot and character-development problems that ruin the film for him. I didn't mind these problems so much because I wasn't that deeply invested in the film or its characters to begin with. My expectations for Marvel Studios films aren't high these days so this was a low-stakes game for me and I got my entertainment dollar's worth out of Doctor Strange.

Palmer writes near the end of the review that his distaste for Doctor Strange aligns with his preference for what he terms Marvel's more "ambitious" films, by which he means Captain America: Winter Soldier and Age of Ultron. Curious though I am about James Spader as the (voice of the) villain, I am not interested in the superhero movie-as-baroque clusterfuck that Ultron is rumored to be.   

So I guess I don't really like the "ambitious" Marvel movies, but then again I don't see Winter Soldier as being very ambitious, just well-scripted and well-made. It's like the first Bourne movie: it strikes a very good downbeat tone and introduces a lived-in, contemporary-feeling world in which "the Captain's very goodness has given him the edge of an antihero," as Owen Gleiberman puts it. I agree with Gleiberman's and Peter Debruge's comments on their Variety ranking of the first fourteen Marvel Cinematic Universe movies (including Doctor Strange), for while I haven't seen enough MCU films to weigh in on their whole list, I surely agree with their top five picks: Avengers, Iron Man, Captain America: Winter Soldier, Doctor Strange, and Guardians of the Galaxy.

As for Doctor Strange, I did enjoy it as entertainment. I would probably watch it again just to see the world-bendy visuals, enjoy the jokes, and see Mads Mikkelsen threaten Benedict Cumberbatch while wearing weird eye makeup. Strange's spectacular visuals and lively performances raise it a wee bit above the usual predictability of MCU films these days. However, despite its fine execution, Doctor Strange is not really all that innovative in any way, and certainly continues Marvel's / Hollywood's traditions of racism (see this and this), sexism (see this, this, this, and this), and, of course, pro-American imperialism. I didn't expect the film to surprise me on these fronts but I do feel, as other critics and advocacy groups do, that there was a missed opportunity here.

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* Whiteys still get all the plum roles in Hollywood because the domestic U.S. market is still quite crucial, especially in creating an initial perception of (the economic viability of) the film. White stars and actors also benefit (relative to, say, Asian ones) from the global economic and cultural dominance of Hollywood since the early twentieth century -- due to Hollywood's economic leverage, and through sheer momentum, whiteness continues to sell well worldwide.
** Of course, Inception itself borrows most of its visual ideas from the superior anime film Paprika (2006), which I highly recommend.
† Holly Hassel, "The 'Babe Scientist' Phenomenon" in Chick Flicks (Ed. Suzanne Ferriss and Mallory Young, Routledge 2008) p. 196.

Review: Star Wars: The Force Awakens (2015)

One of my favorite bits from The Force Awakens.

I have written before about Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens, J.J. Abrams' "requel"-style sequel to the original Star Wars trilogy. I claim the new movie

is better (by far) than any Star Wars prequel and better (by less far) than Jurassic World. The dialogue is decent, the characterization (especially of the new characters, Rey, Finn, Kylo Ren and BB-8) is good, and the action sequences and overall narrative flow work really well. I agree with A.A. Dowd when he says that the film does not slow down and develop its characters and worlds quite enough and that it fails to land a couple moments (like the revelation of Kylo Ren's parentage) that could have been far more emotionally impactful than they are.

I stand by that statement, yet having recently re-watched The Force Awakens, I aver its dialogue is better than "decent." As these kinds of basically superficial movies go, the latest Star Wars entry is actually quite well scripted.

Take. for example, the two lines exchanged between Han and Leia as they sum up why they have drifted apart from one another over the years:

HAN: I went back to the only thing I was ever any good at.

LEIA: We both did.

Simple stuff but it implies so much. Perceiving themselves to be failures as lovers and parents, Han and Leia have fallen back on their respective jobs as smuggler and military commander to sustain them through their trauma. This makes sense. It's human. People in the real world throw themselves into work and old habits to avoid pain and discomfort all the time. Succinctly put, not revolutionary, but believable and resonant.

The film's high entertainment value also stems from Abrams' considerable ability as a "show don't tell" filmmaker. In this, thank God he is more a disciple of Spielberg than of Lucas. He moves the camera dynamically, he focuses on action and gesture over expository dialogue, and he -- unlike his contemporaries Christopher Nolan and Zack Snyder -- seems to comprehend human emotions.

This moment, like many similar moments between Furiosa and Max in Fury Road, subtly illustrates how heroic men depend upon smarter, more capable women.

However, one can easily tell that Abrams' hands were tightly tied while making this franchise-rebooting component of the highly synergized Star Wars product line.* As the L.A. Times' Michael Hiltzik writes,

Whether out of his own instincts or via directives from the suits at Disney, J.J. Abrams, the co-writer and director of The Force Awakens, plainly labored under a mandate to not get the thing wrong. It's a mark of Disney's own caretaker mentality that not only is a Jar Jar Binks-level blunder absent from The Force Awakens, but so is surprise or even much suspense.

That's hard to argue with. The film is fun but generally unsurprising, in large part because it is a barely-disguised remake of Star Wars (1977). (Though I am pleasantly surprised by Kylo Ren's sudden tantrums -- show don't tell!)

Hiltzik allows that "Abrams' big advance is said to be supplanting the whiter-than-white protagonists of the original Star Wars with a young woman and a black male." Agreed.

Finn (John Boyega) rocks. He also signals imminent major SPOILERS in this review.

What's more, The Force Awakens makes good on two key unfulfilled promises: to give Han Solo a meaningful death, and to give us a frikkin' female Jedi protagonist.

As Harrison Ford has been saying for decades, Han Solo should have croaked at the end of The Return of the Jedi. It makes sense in terms of the character's arc (greedy bastard in Star Wars, learns his lesson in Empire, sacrifices himself for his friends in Jedi) and would have given the conclusion of the original trilogy some much-needed gravitas. Tony Zhou writes that

J.J. Abrams must spend half of The Force Awakens re-building the same emotional ground under Han Solo [as existed in the original trilogy]. That’s why Han is back to his factory default setting of “smuggler,” why he’s escaping again from people to whom he owes money, why he and Leia are separated then reunited, and why he quickly agrees to storm a planet and disable the shield so that fighters can attack the Death Star. 

Han Solo is literally, moment by moment, reliving Return of the Jedi. Because in story terms, he should’ve died then.**

Don't get me wrong, Jedi is an aesthetic triumph. Its action sequences, particularly the Endor speeder bike chase and the destruction of the second Death Star, are among the best you will ever see. Luke's final confrontation with Vader and the Emperor in Jedi is one of the best dramatic scenes in any Star Wars movie and is probably the most emotionally resonant scene George Lucas has ever had any hand in creating.

But on a basic story-structure level, and as far as including the Ewoks goes, Return of the Jedi is a lazy, stupid, watered-down piece of shit. It stupidly keeps Han Solo alive, denying the character a meaningful death and reducing him to comic relief. Worse, Jedi gives Solo screen time that rightfully belongs to Leia at this point. Why the fuck isn't Leia, a longtime military leader, commanding the attack on the Endor shield generator? For that matter, why the fuck is this blaster-wielding leader of the rebellion being chained up in a slave bikini in the opening act of this puppet-fest?

Whatever happened to this Leia?

Did she follow this Marion Ravenwood down into the pit of 1980s sexism?

In any case, The Force Awakens' Rey (Daisy Ridley) appears to be Star Wars' attempt to reverse course on its usual sexism.† The attempt may never fully succeed -- that slave bikini is going to haunt the franchise forever. But our new series protagonist (for at least the next two numbered episodes I presume) and her black comrade-in-arms both provide a compelling and much-needed antidote to the series' usual white-male-centeredness. 

On the basis of its diverse cast and camera work alone I'm inclined to rate The Force Awakens up there pretty close to Return of the Jedi in terms of overall viewing pleasure. We'll see how it withstands the test of time. 

However, much as I complain about Disney taking over the goddamn universe, I sure look forward to seeing the next couple episodes of Rey's ongoing adventures. She is the single most compelling element of this latest Star Wars viewing product. 

Rey tells Kylo Ren to go fuck himself.

Bonus Afterthought: Make sure to check out this interesting piece about a possible unforeseen after-effect of The Force Awakens' enormous success: a critical reevaluation of George Lucas. Bryan Curtis explains that "in the era of reboots, Lucas' pastiches have a kind of integrity." A thought-provoking read.

UPDATE 7/1/2016: See also Film Crit Hulk's detailed explanation of why The Force Awakens doesn't quite work for him -- including accurate insights about why most of J.J. Abrams' films are big hits but lack staying power. According to Hulk, Abrams' films "DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW TO BE HUMAN SO THEY EFFECTIVELY IMITATE IT. [IN THE FORCE AWAKENS, ABRAMS AND COMPANY] LOOKED AT EVERY MOMENT AND WORKED BACKWARDS FROM THE INTENDED RESULT. J.J. KNOWS WHERE YOU WANT TO BE, BUT HE'S GOING TO RUSH YOU THERE AS SOON AS HE CAN, REGARDLESS OF WHETHER OR NOT IT'S CATHARTIC."

UPDATE 9/10/2016: I recently came across this piece by Brian Merchant and feel it to be the best overall assessment of the place of The Force Awakens in the larger Star Wars film series. As Merchant writes, Episode VII "is more a product of the same market logic that gave rise to the Marvel Universe films—a logic that rewards emulation and nostalgia above all; reusing ideas, characters, and narrative arcs that have already proven lucrative—than it is of the imagination that launched the series nearly four decades ago." Though he has high hopes for 2017's Episode VIII, he concludes that "Science fiction is supposed to be all about exploring the unexplored, not rehashing the well-trod. As its key franchises become increasingly more important to the bottom line of huge studios that are fending off streaming and view-on-demand, expect them to become more formulaic, and less interesting."

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* Eileen Meehan calls the web of cross-references created by the product lines surrounding a blockbuster film its "commercial intertext." She argues that each consumer interacts with the web of meanings created by a film text and its surrounding commercial intertext differently, each of us "positioning ourselves to construct different readings of the film and positioning the film and its intertext to suit our particular purposes" (pp. 47-9). If you are interested in the rise of the blockbuster and/or corporate synergy in Hollywood, you simply must read Meehan's "Holy Commodity Fetish, Batman!" in The Many Lives of the Batman (Ed. Roberta E. Pearson and William Uricchio, Routledge 1991) pp. 47-65.
** Zhou compellingly argues that The Force Awakens wastes too much time fixing the original trilogy's Han Solo problem: "the real film that Episode VII is fixing is Episode VI. Half of the runtime of this new movie is spent correcting one problem, the mere fact that Han Solo should have died then and didn’t." Along similar lines, Gary Kurtz, who produced Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back, says in this interview that

one of the reasons I was really unhappy [about Jedi] was the fact that all of the carefully constructed story structure of characters and things that we did in Empire was going to carry over into Jedi. The resolution of that film was going to be quite bittersweet, with Han Solo being killed, and the princess having to take over as queen of what remained of her people, leaving everybody else. In effect, Luke was left on his own. None of that happened, of course.

Kurtz parted ways with George Lucas over these issues and instead of producing Return of the Jedi, he collaborated with Jim Henson and Frank Oz on the utterly badass The Dark Crystal (1982).
† The prequels are absolutely terrible on the gender front as well, so it's a good thing they don't exist.

Review: The Jungle Book (2016)

I saw Disney's live-action version of The Jungle Book directed by Jon Favreau, and overall I was visually impressed, if disappointed as a political progressive and a feminist.

To start with the good stuff, though, the film's digital effects are astounding, its script and direction quite capable, and while there were no real surprises -- the film telegraphs every development quite clearly -- I had a good time watching the film in the theater.

As others have noted, The Jungle Book's single greatest achievement is its computer generated images (CGI) of its various animal characters. I have written and presented on the topic of CGI animals in film, and just last year had a discussion with several film scholars about how very few digital animal performances in film manage to cross the "uncanny valley." But The Jungle Book's creatures look quite believable, setting a new high bar for realistic-looking CGI animals in major studio releases.

As Rajeev Balasubramanyam insightfully notes, the new version attempts to deracinate and deterritorialize its Rudyard Kipling source material, taking a stalwart of British imperialist literature and turning it into a kind of bland, globalized, Indiana Jones-esque theme park ride.* As Balasubramanyam writes:

While the CGI-rendered jungle looks very real, it does not feel much like India, or indeed any single place. Favreau’s jungle is more of a global one, resembling a composite of familiar scenes from The Lion King then Avatar, and then perhaps Arizona, or Rajasthan, or the Sahara. Anything that smacks of cultural specificity has been eliminated

I agree with Balasubramanyam's reading and would add that the film makes clear its deterritorialized position from the very start. The opening Disney logo comes up, including that aerial shot that swoops backward over the ramparts of the iconic Disney castle as "When You Wish Upon a Star" plays. Then it continues its track back under an archway of jungle flora to reveal the words "The Jungle Book" etched in stone, and finally pans right across a waterfall to establish the film's "jungle" setting. That is, there is no fade to black or cut of any kind between the "magic kingdom" corporate logo and The Jungle Book's establishing shot. It is all one continuous take. The movie literally takes place inside a Disney theme park. It is neither a real jungle nor even a strictly real place, it is Disneyland or Walt Disney World.

It is also a completely homosocial, males-only environment. Before seeing The Jungle Book, I braced myself for lots of racism and imperialism, and that stuff is surely present in the film. For example, the main "good" animals, such as Baloo (Bill Murray) and Bagheera (Ben Kingsley), are all white-sounding and/or British, while the film's chief villain, Shere Khan, is one of the few creatures voiced by a black (albeit British) actor, Idris Elba.

Yet what really bowls me over is the film's sexism. There are only two speaking female roles in The Jungle Book: Mowgli's angelic, fiercely loyal wolf mother Raksha (Lupita Nyong'o) and the vile sexual seductress of a snake, Kaa (Scarlett Johansson). That's it. Devoted, perfect mother or slithering, murdering whore. Yay, Disney!

Kaa sez: "I want to fuck-- I mean eat -- you, my delicious little morsel."

In addition -- and perhaps this is somewhat unavoidable when making a film of this kind -- I feel that there are several shots of Mowgli (Neel Sethi) running around and posing in The Jungle Book that folks like Jared Fogle would jerk off to. And if the cinematography doesn't already encourage thoughts of pedophilia and sexual predation, Mowgli's scene with Kaa makes the sexual stakes of his adventures clear. This reboot of The Jungle Book franchise features no human female love interest for Mowgli -- that is surely being saved for the sequel -- but Kaa's erotically charged scene reminds us that sexual women are dangerous beings who threaten to eat us alive. Better to remain in a state of immature arrested development, safely ensconced with our male friends. Thank God Baloo the bear shows up just in time to pulverize that slutty snake! (What is this, one of those fucked-up animated sequences from The Wall?)

Anyway, all in all, I recommend that you catch The Jungle Book in a theater if you like state of the art special effects or want to see a sexist, racist, but superficially enjoyable and extremely well-made movie about a boy's adventures with talking animals in a jungle environment that feels more like the Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom mining cart chase than it does any real-world locale.

For that opening long take in which we are drawn into a virtual Disney theme park is the most meaningful shot in this entire movie. That first shot carries The Jungle Book's primary message: that we will all be watching Disney products for the rest of our lives, and after we die, our descendants will do the same. Like Mowgli, none of us is ever going to grow up and none of us is ever getting out of the jungle. We live in Disney's world now. Our great-grandchildren will pay sixty five space credits to see 4D versions of Star Wars Episode Twenty Six and Captain America: Infinity Civil Galactic Guardians of the Galaxy Meets Valhalla and Jungle Book 9: Mowgli Carter of Mars.

That's us, dangling from the limb. Disney is going to eat us.

UPDATE 5/2/2016: It took a day for this to sink in, bit I have realized another annoyingly retrograde aspect of The Jungle Book's shitty sexism: the film uses the word "man" to refer to humankind. Mowgli is a "man-cub," the village is the "man-village," etc. I assume it's the same phrasing used in the original Kipling texts, but that was 1894, this is fucking 2016 for Christ's sake. Even Star Trek: The Next Generation made the change from the original series' iconic yet sexist opening phrase "To boldly go where no man has gone before" to "To boldly go where no one has gone before" way back in 1987. Get with it, people!

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* For a deeper dive into the differences between Kipling's original stories, the 1967 animated version, and this latest one, check out this insightful post.

James Bond Franchise Review Part Two

This is the second of two posts reviewing the first twenty-one James Bond films. See also my introductory thoughts about James Bond.

THE MEDIOCRE JAMES BOND FILMS

Donald Pleasence as Blofeld in You Only Live Twice.

You Only Live Twice (1967)

I hate to put any Connery-as-Bond film on the mediocre list, and You Only Live Twice, the fifth entry in the franchise, almost deserves to be at the bottom of the Great list. It has one of the best theme songs ever, the very best villians’ lair (a hollowed-out volcano!), and one of the best fistfights in any Bond film (the fight in the Osato Chemical office building twenty-five minutes into the movie). Yet I am forced to agree with other critics who contend that the pacing of You Only Live Twice is a little slow. And perhaps Connery’s weariness of the Bond role is beginning to show here: by the time the shooting of this film was underway, Connery had announced that he would not star in another Bond picture. Indeed, he did not participate in the sixth Bond film, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, though he was wooed back to Bond two more times: for Diamonds Are Forever in 1971 and again in 1983 for the Thunderball remake, Never Say Never Again.*

Live and Let Die (1973)

Although it is dated and/or marred by its Blaxploitation-influenced depiction of African Americans as heroin pushers and savage voodoo practitioners, Live and Let Die nevertheless counts as a fairly excellent Roger Moore James Bond film. It has one of the best Bond theme songs ever. The speedboat chase and the sequence at the alligator farm are thrilling and iconic Bond moments. In terms of its supporting cast, most notable is Yaphet Kotto as Kananga / Mr. Big, who is one of the best actors ever to play a Bond villain, although his onscreen motives in this film are a little ridiculous, hackneyed, and unclear. Maybe Live and Let Die's biggest weakness is its leading man: this film constitutes Roger Moore’s debut in the role of Bond, and Moore is still finding his way into the role. Thus the film is not as laden with slapstick humor as its immediate sequels, The Man with the Golden Gun and The Spy Who Loved Me, though it does successfully go for the laughs during the “flying lesson” sequence and when it introduces Louisiana Sheriff J.W. Pepper (Clifton James). Yet the pacing of the first half of Live and Let Die is surprisingly slow, picking up and staying lively only from the double-decker bus chase onward, after the one-hour mark. Nevertheless, this is a Bond film I return to with some regularity, and all in all, I am forced to call the imperfect Live and Let Die a worthwhile and largely entertaining Bond adventure.**

British comedian Rowan Atkinson joins Sean Connery in Never Say Never Again.

Never Say Never Again (1983)

While a bit lengthy and certainly no match for the film (Thunderball) of which it is a remake, Never Say Never Again is nevertheless pleasurable because Sean Connery is so damned good in the leading role. After twelve years of Moore’s parodic take on the Bond character, it is a treat to have the tough, believable Connery back as 007, and the film has many excellent sequences, most notably the clinic fight early in the film and the motorcycle chase midway through. Barbara Carrera particularly shines as villianess Fatima Blush, and I am a big Rowan Atkinson fan so enjoy his appearance here as bumbling government liason Nigel Small-Fawcett. All in all, a fun if imperfect farewell from the best Bond actor there ever was.

The Man with the Golden Gun's "duel between titans" -- Francisco Scaramanga (Christopher Lee) squares off against James Bond (Roger Moore).

The Man with the Golden Gun (1974)

Yes, The Man with the Golden Gun is a decidedly “cheesy” James Bond movie. The sequence where Bond fights an entire school of martial arts practitioners is flatly ridiculous, as are the stupefyingly silly antics of Bond’s “helper,” Agent Mary Goodnight (Britt Ecklund). However, I return to this film again and again for one central reason: Christopher fuckin’ Lee. There is a reason Lee played Count Dracula so successfully in the 1950s Hammer horror films, and the answer is that he is a fine actor with an awesome, deep voice, a scary onscreen presence, and thus he totally rocks as super-assassin Francisco Scaramanga in this film. Lee’s performance and the script’s framing of the conflict between Scaramanga and Bond as a duel between titans, two world-class professional killers with few peers to challenge them, brings a gravitas and excitement to the climactic duel between them that has never really been matched in other Bond films. As Lee himself put it, Scaramanga is “the dark side of Bond.” Further, The Man with the Golden Gun showcases superb location use, for Scaramanga’s island hideout — shot on location in Phuket Province, Thailand – is one of the most beautiful and memorable of all Bond villain hideouts, second only to Blofeld’s volcano lair in You Only Live Twice. Lastly, along with The Spy Who Loved Me, The Man with the Golden Gun qualifies as the rare Bond film where the writing and tone mesh well with Roger Moore’s gently parodic take on James Bond, thus producing a harmonious if somewhat campy whole. I find myself returning to this one again and again, not least to hear the film’s funky 70’s theme song. Check it out!

Drax and Jaws are friends in Moonraker.

Moonraker (1979)

Explicitly produced to capitalize upon the popularity of Star Wars (1977), this Roger Moore Bond film goes way over the top: it ends with a laser battle aboard Drax’s orbital space station. The producers knew they were risking making even Roger Moore look silly in this, yet it more or less pays off: Drax is one of the franchise’s most sinister villains, and who doesn’t love Jaws (Richard Kiel), the famous Bond assassin appearing here in his second and final appearance in the franchise? Further, the excesses of Moonraker led the Bond producers to tone down the gadgets and bombast for the next, much darker Bond movie, For Your Eyes Only. My biggest complaint about Moonraker is its pacing — it feels a bit slow and bombastic to me. But Drax and Jaws keep me coming back, at least once in a while.

The always delightful Robbie Coltrane as Valantin Zukovsky in the underrated Bond picture The World is Not Enough.

The World is Not Enough (1999)

Some people would disagree with me here, and rate The World is Not Enough below the other Brosnan Bonds, including Tomorrow Never Dies and the ridiculous Die Another Day. But there is something in the plot and tone of this well-directed Bond picture that really works for me. There is a depth of characterization and an intensity in the acting, particularly from Sophie Marceau (as oil heiress Elektra), Robert Carlyle, and even Brosnan himself. In fact, I think this film documents Brosnan’s best portrayal of Bond. Furthermore, the twisted relationship between Elektra and Renard, not to mention its impact on M (Judi Dench), is handled with a sophistication and pathos rare to see in James Bond films. Michael Apted’s direction and an ambitious script come together in a really coherent package, and while Denise Richards’ (Christmas Jones) acting may not be the greatest the Bond franchise has ever seen, it is not enough to seriously detract from this well-crafted and, dare I say, most thoughtful and emotionally rich of all the (pre-Daniel Craig) Bond films.

Tomorrow Never Dies (1997)

Stellar action sequences, particularly the Saigon building escape and motorcycle / helicopter chase that take place an hour and sixteen minutes into Tomorrow Never Dies, cannot save this second Brosnan outing from overall mediocrity. Despite an interesting premise, the villian Carver (Jonathan Pryce) is a bit too overplayed to be effectively scary, and Michelle Yeoh, who shines during the fight sequences, is pretty flat elsewhere and she and Brosnan lack chemistry. Two standout supporting performances include Teri Hatcher as the voluptuously alluring Paris Carver and the weird-looking Vincent Schiavelli as Dr. Kaufman, but neither of these two characters live long enough to provide much ongoing help. However, this is a very well-paced film overall, and the aforementioned motorcycle/helicopter chase is one of the most breathtaking and well-executed action sequences in the entire Bond oeuvre -- well worth a look!

Christopher Walken as Max Zorin in A View to a Kill.

A View to a Kill (1985)

This film is preposterous in large part due to Roger Moore’s tiredness in and with the role of James Bond. Moore wanted to quit the Bond cinematic franchise after For Your Eyes Only but the producers enticed him back two more times. And although the ever-chipper Moore gives it a good parting effort, you can kind of tell that he is finished with the role. However, it is A View to a Kill’s supporting cast that makes this film a stupidly delightful watch. Christopher Walken as Max Zorin, Grace Jones as May Day, and Patrick MacNee (of British “Avengers” fame) as Tibbett really bring their segments of this picture to life. I further admit that I really like the fire-engine / car chase through the streets of San Francisco that happens three-quarters of the way through the movie, and of course the Duran Duran title song fucking RAWKS! Hmm, is this movie so bad it’s good? I definitely enjoy this picture more than I feel I should given that I’m placing it so low on my list. I certainly watch it at least as often as I watch Moonraker.

THE REALLY BORING JAMES BOND FILMS***

Robert Davi and Benicio del Toro: two of the most entertaining elements of Licence to Kill. 

Licence to Kill (1989) 

I used to think this second and final Timothy Dalton Bond film was even worse than its predecessor, The Living Daylights, but upon reviewing it recently [in 2008] for this Guide, I have been forced to admit that it’s not as bad as I remembered it. In fact, it is far faster paced than The Living Daylights, and is chock full of lean-and-mean fights and well-orchestrated action sequences. There is also some good supporting cast here, like the very attractive Carey Lowell as CIA agent Pam Bouvier, Robert Davi as the diabolical if stereotypical villain Sanchez, and a very young Benicio del Toro as Sanchez’s twisted henchman Dario. The opening and closing theme songs, “Licence to Kill” and “If You Ask Me To,” are excellent as well. Yet I still have trouble sitting through the fucking ridiculous truck stunts near the end of the film (an 18-wheeler doing fucking side wheelies? Come on!), and ultimately it is Dalton’s somewhat strange fit in the role of Bond that keeps this film from rising above the level of dull and dumbshit. But Licence to Kill may be semi-decent dumbshit — occasionally enjoyable as a guilty dumbshit pleasure.

Die Another Day (2002)

This film exemplifies the furthest the Bond franchise has ever gone into the realm of high-tech gadgetry and science fiction-esque premises, barring Moonraker. But while Moonraker embraced its own over-the top silliness (recall that the notorious assassin Jaws finds true love — in space no less! — in Moonraker), Die Another Day seems to try way too hard to take itself seriously. So, despite breathtaking action sequences, such as the clinic raid, the fencing duel (wow!), and the climactic cargo plane fight, and despite semi-decent chemistry between Brosnan as Bond and Halle Berry as American agent Jinx, this film always feels too bombastic and over-determined to me, one I enjoy sometimes and cannot bear other times. I know some Bond fans defend this film and I admit that the first time I saw it in the theater I thoroughly enjoyed it and was more or less blown away. But on increasingly disappointing repeat viewings I digested the fact that there’s an invisible car in this movie, and hence its well-deserved placement in the “dumbshit” category.

This scene from The Living Daylights, set in Vienna, pays homage to iconic imagery from Carol Reed's film noir classic The Third Man (1949).

The Living Daylights (1987)

This one really earns the “boring” label. The worse of Timothy Dalton’s two contributions to the Bond series, this film is too serious in tone, too long in running time, and too desperately slow in pacing at points to be much fun as Bond films go. It’s not that the producers and Dalton himself don’t give this thing a good try, and some of the supporting cast in The Living Daylights — particularly Joe Don Baker as Whitaker and Maryam d’Abo as Kara — are really enjoyable. In the end, while I like Dalton and find him charismatic and I want him to succeed in the role, he nevertheless doesn’t quite feel like Bond to me. Maybe after six years of Reagan and Thatcher, etc., the Bond premise was just wearing a bit thin by the late 80s. Maybe the public so badly wanted Pierce Brosnan in the role that Timothy Dalton could never have fulfilled anyone’s expectations at that time. In any case, the whole Dalton-as-Bond business is an unfortunate mismatch; Dalton is simply not quite at home as Bond, despite his talent. And when Bond doesn’t work, the Bond film doesn’t work, especially when it's this damned slow and somber. So fuck The Living Daylights. (But on the Dalton-is-talented note, make sure to see him in the awesome 1980 Flash Gordon movie.)

Octopussy (1983)

The single worst James Bond film, Octopussy is slow-paced, convoluted, and full of boring characters. The film is so lackluster that even the usually high-spirited Roger Moore cannot breathe life into it. A shit-pile.


THE SEVEN BEST JAMES BOND THEME SONGS
1. “Nobody Does It Better” from The Spy Who Loved Me.
2. “You Only Live Twice” from You Only Live Twice.
3. “Diamonds Are Forever” from Diamonds Are Forever.
4. “Goldeneye” from Goldeneye.
5. “Live and Let Die” from Live and Let Die.
6. “Goldfinger” from Goldfinger.
7. “Licence to Kill” from Licence to Kill.

Ursula Andress as Honeychile Ryder in Dr. No (1962).

THE SEVEN BEST BOND WOMEN
1. Honey Ryder (Ursula Andress) from Dr. No: Honey Ryder is the first and best. Tough and statuesque, Andress made not just Bond history but film and cultural history when she walked out of the surf just over an an hour into Dr. No.
2. Carole Bouquet as the tough, revenge-driven Melina Havelock in For Your Eyes Only.
3. Domino (Claudine Auger) from Thunderball: Haunted and very empathetic, Domino feels subtly believable to me, and she doesn’t suddenly change her character 180 degrees by falling head-over-heels for Bond like Pussy Galore and other Bond leading women have by the last reel.
4. Pussy Galore (Honor Blackman) from Goldfinger: One of the few Bond women who really seemed close to being Bond’s equal, despite her capitulation to Bond’s charms (and selling out of Goldfinger) by the film’s climactic showdown.
5. Tracy Bond (Diana Rigg) from On Her Majesty’s Secret Service: an intense actress and the only leading woman Bond ever marries. . .
6. Agent XXX (Barbara Bach) from The Spy Who Loved Me: Bach is able to play this role with just the right amount of knowing humor so as to perfectly compliment Moore’s performance and the film.
7. Jinx (Halle Berry) from Die Another Day: though trapped in a shitbox of a film, Berry shines as American agent Jinx, almost (but not quite) rescuing this film from its overdetermined self-importance and excessive techno-gadgetry.

French actor Michael Lonsdale as Drax in Moonraker (1979).

THE SEVEN BEST BOND VILLAINS
1. Drax: The creepiest of them all, so aristocratic!
2. Donald Pleasence as Blofeld: The first and coolest Blofeld.
3. Goldfinger: The most iconic Bond villain, especially in the laser-beam scene.
4. Scaramanga: He’s Christopher fuckin’ Lee. Sinister and perverted!
5. Kananga: Rendered interesting because of Yaphet Kotto’s presence and performance.
6. Largo: His eye patch and love of sharks make him unforgettable.
7. Zorin: Come on, it's Walken.

Roger Moore as James Bond in For Your Eyes Only (1981).

JAMES BOND ACTORS RATED BEST TO WORST
1. Connery
2. Moore
3. Brosnan
4. Lazenby
5. Dalton

There's no doubt that Roger Moore’s ironic/parodic take saved the franchise from imploding — an earnest Bond never worked after the 1960s, as Dalton’s tenure emphatically proves. Regarding George Lazenby, I feel that had he had more time to grow into the role (and acquire more acting skills), Lazenby might have ranked higher on this list, but history was not kind to the Australian model-turned Bond: he was dismissed after one film, the rather excellent On Her Majesty’s Secret Service.


THE JAMES BOND FILMS LISTED CHRONOLOGICALLY

1. Dr. No (1962), starring Sean Connery, directed by Terence Young

2. From Russia With Love (1963), starring Sean Connery, directed by Terence Young

3. Goldfinger (1964), starring Sean Connery, directed by Guy Hamilton

4. Thunderball (1965), starring Sean Connery, directed by Terence Young

5. You Only Live Twice (1967), starring Sean Connery, directed by Lewis Gilbert

6. On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969), starring George Lazenby, directed by Peter Hunt

7. Diamonds Are Forever (1971), starring Sean Connery, directed by Guy Hamilton

8. Live and Let Die (1973), starring Roger Moore, directed by Guy Hamilton

9. The Man With the Golden Gun (1974), starring Roger Moore, directed by Guy Hamilton

10. The Spy Who Loved Me (1977), starring Roger Moore, directed by Lewis Gilbert

11. Moonraker (1979), starring Roger Moore, directed by Lewis Gilbert

12. For Your Eyes Only (1981), starring Roger Moore, directed by John Glen

13. Octopussy (1983), starring Roger Moore, directed by John Glen

14. Never Say Never Again (1983), starring Sean Connery, directed by Irvin Kershner

15. A View to a Kill (1985), starring Roger Moore, directed by John Glen

16. The Living Daylights (1987), starring Timothy Dalton, directed by John Glen

17. Licence to Kill (1989), starring Timothy Dalton, directed by John Glen

18. Goldeneye (1995), starring Pierce Brosnan, directed by Martin Campbell

19. Tomorrow Never Dies (1997), starring Pierce Brosnan, directed by Roger Spottiswoode

20. The World is Not Enough (1999), starring Pierce Brosnan, directed by Michael Apted

21. Die Another Day (2002), starring Pierce Brosnan, directed by Lee Tamahori

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* Here I must add a flagrant racism alert. True, all James Bond films carry imperialist implications, what with their championing of a globe-straddling, white, British superspy who saves the Western world at every turn by besting and killing less-white foes and henchmen (and, in most cases, getting his own allies killed as well). But You Only Live Twice features some of the most overt Orientalism of the whole series, culminating in a shocking sequence in which Bond dons yellowface in order to blend in with a group of (gulp!) ninjas. Of course, the concept is ridiculous to the point of absurdity: no matter how you tape his eyes back or yellow his skin, a 6'2" Scotsman is simply not a ringer for a Japanese man. But silly or no, the Bond yellowface scene brings the franchise's racism (in the form of racist stereotyping and caricature) to the fore in a pointed and off-putting way.
** This is another place where my former self's Roger Moore-dislike clashes with my current appreciation for Moore-as-007. I would still call Live and Let Die an imperfect Bond film, but would move it up toward the bottom of the "Truly Great Bond Films" list despite its flaws (particularly Mr. Big's extremely foggy motives for doing whatever he's doing). Along the same line, today I would push The Man with the Golden Gun up a few slots to the very top of the "Mediocre" list or maybe to the very bottom of the "Great" one. I enjoy Golden Gun at least as much as You Only Live Twice -- probably more so.
*** When I originally wrote this review in 2008, I used the term "Dumbshit" to refer to this third, least favored category of James Bond films. However, I subsequently realized that "Dumbshit" wasn't an ideal moniker, since almost all James Bond movies, even really good ones, feature moments that qualify as over-the-top, ridiculous, and "dumbshit." In many cases, those dumbshit moments are some of the most pleasurable ones. No, the worst crime committed by the films on the third list are that they are dull; thus I have re-dubbed the third category “Boring” rather than the admittedly funnier but slightly less accurate “Dumbshit.”

James Bond Franchise Review Part One

This two-part review of the first twenty-one James Bond films -- I am reaching twenty-one by including Never Say Never Again (1983), which was not released by Eon Productions and therefore is not considered canonical by them -- is, in a couple of senses, "old." For one, it deals only with the pre-Daniel Craig Bonds. You should read my earlier introduction to this post for the reasoning behind that exclusion, but the short version is: the Craig Bonds serve as a true “reboot” of the franchise, taking the Bond premise and feel in a wholly new direction. So while I really like Craig in the role and appreciate Casino Royale (2006) and especially Skyfall (2012) on their own terms (as contemporary action thrillers), they do not seem to fit in with the spirit of the Bond franchise in its Connery-through-Brosnan period.

More significantly, however, I use "old" here to designate that I originally wrote this review a fairly long time ago, in August 2008, over seven years ago.  Some of my opinions and thoughts on these terrifically entertaining (if racist, misogynist, and imperialist) films have shifted in that time, though I have continued to enjoy most these movies with some regularity on their "Ultimate DVD" editions released in 2006. (A notable exception is that I still tend to avoid Octopussy, a film I more or less despise despite my warm feelings toward many of its actors).

Therefore I propose to share the following Bond review as a starting point for a re-consideration of these films. I may one day follow up this "old" review with some newly posted revisions, amendments, and afterthoughts on the cinematic James Bond franchise. I may even get around to writing some stuff about those Daniel Craig "James Bond" films in due time, who knows?

[UPDATE 6/3/2016: Along this line, you simply must check out "HULK VS. JAMES BOND," Film Crit Hulk's four-part James Bond franchise analysis, which puts mine to shame. It's essential reading for Bond critics and aficionados alike.]

Carter’s Complete Guide to the James Bond Films!

Sean Connery as James Bond in You Only Live Twice (1967).

Yes, I admit it, I am something of a Bond junkie — though something of a selective junkie who wants the Bond films I watch to demonstrate some effort on the part of the producers, to really engage me, to have that spark of well, fun and well-crafted intensity that some of the best ones have.

Unfortunately, the economic juggernaut that is the James Bond cinematic franchise has certainly relied more than once upon momentum alone to keep itself going. There are some films in the series, like Octopussy and The Living Daylights, that are so goddamned bad it embarrasses me that their DVD versions are allowed to sit in the same boxed set as masterpieces like Dr. No and Thunderball. Yet it is the existence of the eight or so Bond films that are truly great that keeps me coming back again and again to these formulaic, sexist, frequently silly, often entertaining and almost always action-packed films.

So what follows is my guide to the first twenty-one James Bond movies: the great, the mediocre, and the really bad. In addition to ranking the films from best to worst, I also take the time, in true Entertainment Weekly-esque fashion, to present “sidebars” on a few of my favorite Bond villains, women, and theme songs.

On a technical note, I should mention that I did my “research” for this Guide by buying and then incessantly watching the digitally remastered and restored DVD versions of the first twenty James Bond films — from Sean Connery’s debut in the role, Dr. No, in 1962, to the final Pierce Brosnan extravaganza, Die Another Day, forty years later. (Note that the one Bond film that was not released by Albert Broccoli's Eon Productions, Never Say Never Again, is not included in this set. I bought that DVD separately.) Anyone who hasn’t seen these new versions should treat yourself — the colors just pop right out and the transfers are crystal-clear. This especially pays off when watching some of the 1960s Connery films — for example, Goldfinger fuckin’ glows!

But buyer beware. If you are a James Bond film aficionado and are thinking about acquiring the Bond remaster DVDs (called the “Ultimate Edition”) for yourself, note that to date, only the boxed set versions include a second DVD of Special Features with each film in the series. That’s right, the “Ultimate Edition” Bond DVDs that are sold singly include only one disc, i.e. the film itself, usually with one or more commentary tracks, BUT WITH NO EXTRAS DVD. (I discovered this the hard way before I finally capitulated and bought the whole damned set, the Bond fanboy in me secretly gleeful.) The four individual boxed sets that make up the “Ultimate” Bond collection are organized very trickily/shittily, NOT in chronological order but all mixed up willy-nilly: truly great films like the aforementioned Thunderball and the Roger Moore classic The Spy Who Loved Me are crammed onto the same set with crappy-but-enjoyable films like A View to a Kill and Licence to Kill, and, of course, the obligatory utter piece of shit, Die Another Day. Each box in the 4-box collection constitutes a similar strange managerie of the great and the dismal; this is how they trick schlubs like me into buying every last fucking film. But I grow repetitive.

One more thing before the list: A note on my preference for Sean Connery in the role of James Bond. Connery, the originator of the Bond role and star of seven Bond films, is the best actor ever to play the part. He has the most toughness, good looks, charm, and acting chops (with the exception of the classically trained Timothy Dalton) of any Bond actor, and when he plays Bond, it is, well, very tough and therefore very believable. He plays the role in earnest (not tongue-in-cheek like Moore) and it works. Anyone who thinks otherwise should be condemned to hell — i.e., watching only Moore, Dalton and Brosnan Bond films — forever. The litmus test: if someone forced me at gunpoint to watch only Connery Bond films to the exclusion of all others for the rest of my life, I could do so happily (of course, I’d argue with this imaginary armed ruffian to allow me to include on my “can watch” list the 1969 George Lazenby Bond film, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, since it technically took place during Connery’s tenure and it’s damn good — see below).*

The best Bond: Sean Connery.

So now the list, roughly in order from best to worst, with my comments. Enjoy!

THE TRULY GREAT JAMES BOND FILMS

Adolfo Celi as Largo in Thunderball.

Thunderball (1965)

The best of the best. While many claim that 1964’s Goldfinger is the best of the Bonds since it established the formula for all its successors, I in fact favor Thunderball, which rides the momentum of its predecessor and takes the newly discovered Bond “formula” one step further, into more grandiose and exciting directions. The plot of Thunderball is one of the most believable and interesting in the Bond corpus, and the ambitious undersea sequences remain breathtaking from a technical and visual standpoint to this day. Thunderball’s villain, Emilio Largo (Adolfo Celi), may not be as dynamic or maniacal as Auric Goldfinger, but his eye patch and love of sharks establish him as one of the most iconic of all Bond villains, and there is a twisted side to Largo that really makes me fear him. Furthermore, Thunderball’s female lead, Domino (Claudine Auger), is one of the most haunting, (literally) tortured, and captivating of all the Bond women put on screen. I also nominate the musical score throughout the film as being one of the best in all the Bond films. Check this one out at all costs!

James Bond as he prepares to kill Professor Dent (Anthony Dawson) in Dr. No.

Dr. No (1962)

This is simply one of the most fast-paced, thrilling, and suspenseful Bond films made. It stands up to the test of time far better than most of its successors. The plot is lean and mean, and despite the obvious racism and sexism that are seemingly an inextricable part of the Bond universe to this day, Dr. No is well worth repeat watchings. In addition to displaying Connery at his youngest and brutally toughest, Dr. No also features the legendary Ursula Andress as Honeychile Ryder, plus the best Felix Leiter ever: Jack Lord. Fuck yeah!

The great Pedro Armendariz in From Russia With Love.

From Russia With Love (1963)

Graced with a bigger budget than Dr. No and featuring a perfect cast, the second Bond picture is truly special. It is more epic in scope than Dr. No and has not yet settled into the “formula” established by the third Bond film, Goldfinger. Hence, From Russia With Love feels fresh and fairly unique among all the films in the Bond corpus. And about that aforementioned perfect cast: Lotte Lenye as the dastardly dyke Rosa Klebb, Robert Shaw as the assassin Red Grant, and my favorite supporting character in the whole Bond filmography, Kerim Bey, played by Mexican actor Pedro Armendáriz in his final screen role (he died before From Russia With Love was released). And while Daniela Bianchi’s performance as Tatiana Romanova may not be the strongest in the Bond filmography, it suits the role — that of an inexperienced cryptology clerk — ideally. Further, the climactic brutal fight between Bond and Grant on the Orient Express sets the tone for many of the best Bond fistfights for years to come, such as the Osato Chemical fight in You Only Live Twice and the Bond/Peter Franks elevator fight in Diamonds are Forever. From Russia With Love is also an aesthetically beautiful film — especially the sequences in Istanbul and the gypsy camp. So forgive some occasional uneven pacing and dive into this lush Bond classic!

Oddjob (Harold Sakata) on the Fort Knox set in Goldfinger.

Goldfinger (1964)

This film will always be revered and remembered for its firsts: the first really larger-than-life villain, the titular Goldfinger (Gert Frobe), the first really memorable “weird evil henchman,” Oddjob (Harold Sakata), the first major Bond gadget, the Aston-Martin DB 5, and the first Bond picture to feature an opening sequence unrelated to the rest of the film — this latter to become a trope that would endure through much of the remainder of the franchise. Yes, Goldfinger cast the mold that would be followed for years, even decades, to come. And it is a brilliantly paced film with an exciting plot and a lot of very memorable photography, particularly the sequences of Bond driving his Aston-Martin in Geneva and the climactic battle with Oddjob inside Fort Knox. However, despite all this and a refreshingly capable female lead (Honor Blackman as Pussy Galore), this film has never entertained me quite as much as the films that bracket it, i.e., Thunderball, From Russia With Love, and Dr. No. Maybe I just like my Bond films a little rougher around the edges and Goldfinger director Guy Hamilton is too polished. Maybe it’s just not dark enough for me—its American settings and largely outdoor action makes it a bit too sunny and primary colored for my taste. Who knows? Still, while I may not love this one as much as many people do, I still acknowledge it as one of the best Bond films, and I certainly think that the final Bond vs. Oddjob fight inside the vault at Fort Knox is one of the best sequences in the entire Bond filmography — check it out!

An absurdly costumed guard protects Blofeld (Charles Gray) in Diamonds Are Forever.

Diamonds Are Forever (1971)

Diamonds Are Forever marks the return of Guy Hamilton (of Goldfinger fame) to the Bond director’s chair, and nowhere does Hamilton’s visceral style pay off more than in some of the fight sequences in this movie: for example, the fight between Bond and Peter Franks twenty minutes in is one of the best fistfights in Bond film history. Further, Connery seems to have a bit more enthusiasm for the role than he did four years earlier in You Only Live Twice. Diamonds Are Forever also features one of my favorite evil henchman duos in the whole Bond filmography: Mr. Wint and Mr. Kidd (Bruce Glover and Putter Smith). In fact, Mr. Wint delivers one of the funniest and best lines in all of Bond twenty minutes into Diamonds: “Won’t the children be excited?” Despite slow moments, lots of silly one-liners, and an outright ridiculous ending (check out the uniforms on Blofeld’s oil rig guards!), Diamonds Are Forever is a Bond film I return to again and again, and entertainment-wise, it rarely lets me down.

Blofeld’s Swiss mountaintop base in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service.

On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969)

George Lazenby may or may not have been the ideal choice for the role of post-Connery James Bond — as an inexperienced actor who was denied the chance to grow into the role over subsequent films, he never had the opportunity to prove it one way or the other — but he certainly played Bond with more seriousness and raw athleticism than Moore ever did, and hence wins my approval as a worthy successor to Connery. What’s more, this particular film, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, is quite simply one of the best Bond films, in terms of both plot and aesthetics. The bulk of the action takes place in a snowy mountaintop fortress in the Swiss Alps, and Bond and his archenemy Ernst Stavro Blofeld (Telly Savalas) maintain a broiling tension between each other that is made all the more edgy by their isolated, near-claustrophobic conditions. The darkest of the Bond films (due in large part to its very grim ending) but one I return to again and again. Not to mention its menacing, pulse-pounding theme song. Check it out and decide for yourself!

The Spy Who Loved Me (1977)

The best of the Moore Bonds, arguably the only Roger Moore vehicle to harmoniously match its written dialogue and overall playful tone to the tongue-in-cheek stylings of its leading actor. The supporting cast here is pitch-perfect, including Barbara Bach, who plays her Agent XXX with the same gently parodic gusto that Moore brings to Bond, and the unforgettable Richard Kiel as series-favorite hired assassin Jaws. The climactic battle aboard Stromberg’s super-tanker is the best epic battle scene in a Bond film since the volcano base fight that ends You Only Live Twice. (In this sequence I particularly enjoy the American sub captain, played by Bond franchise regular Shane Rimmer.) Add to all this a wicked submersible hideout, sharks, and Bond’s second-most-iconic car ever, the Lotus, and you have one hell of a great James Bond film. And dig the Carly Simon theme song!

Goldeneye (1995)

The only Brosnan film to make the “great” list, 1995’s Goldeneye is a practically flawless James Bond movie. The opening sequence sets the pace, featuring one of the boldest opening stunts since The Spy Who Loved Me’s skiing parachute jump: Bond’s motorcycle plummet off a cliff to catch a diving airplane. Wow! This is followed by the “Goldeneye” theme song, sung by Tina Turner, which is one of the best Bond theme songs in the whole corpus. Further, Goldeneye features a near-perfect supporting cast, with great performances by Izabella Scorupco as Bond sidekick Natalya Simonova, Alan Cumming as Russian computer geek Boris, Sean Bean as the duplicitous Alec, Joe Don Baker (fuck yeah!) as CIA agent Jack Wade, Robbie Coltrane as Valentin Sukovsky, and especially Famke Janssen as the delightfully sadistic Onatopp. In fact, the only sequence in this well-paced film that doesn’t quite work for me is the tank chase through the streets of St. Petersburg — I think it goes a little goofily over the top in an otherwise more “realistic” feeling Bond picture — but that is a trifling concern in a Bond film this good. A great first outing for Brosnan as Bond; in fact, it would (unfortunately) be all downhill from here. But Goldeneye marks a golden moment in the Bond franchise, and always entertains.

Carole Bouquet as Melina Havelock in For Your Eyes Only.

For Your Eyes Only (1981)

It has been said that Roger Moore should have stepped down from the role of Bond after either Moonraker or For Your Eyes Only, and I would agree. Hell, Roger Moore himself agreed, and only reluctantly signed on for his last two films, the horrible Octopussy and the mediocre A View To A Kill, after the producers all but begged him to stay in the role. However, despite its lateness in Moore’s trajectory as Bond, For Your Eyes Only is a nice return to the basics, giving us a somewhat tougher Moore/Bond such as we haven’t seen since Live and Let Die. And despite Moore’s relative (ahem!) maturity and a fairly lackluster main villain (Julian Glover), For Your Eyes Only stands on its own as a solidly entertaining Bond flick, and some even maintain that it is the best Bond film to star Moore. While I can’t go that far, the film does feature superb performances by the magnetic Topol in the delightful role of Greek smuggler Columbo, and one of the best “leading ladies” in all of Bond, Carole Bouquet as the revenge-driven Melina Havelock. Furthermore, For Your Eyes Only’s central ski chase is not to be missed: alongside On Her Majesty’s “avalanche” ski chase it is one of the two best ski chases in Bond. Not to mention the breathtaking finale of For Your Eyes Only, which entails Bond scaling a sheer cliff face to reach Kristatos’s monastery hideout. Well worth checking out!

Topol sez: "I don't show up until an hour into For Your Eyes Only, but I'm well worth the wait, my friend!"

The Bond bonanza will continue in a forthcoming post discussing The Mediocre James Bond Films and The Really Boring James Bond Films.

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* This is one of the main differences between the me of 2008 and the me of now: I have softened a great deal in my stance toward Roger Moore as Bond, and in fact would now name him the second-best Bond after Connery. But my reasons for loving Moore in the role are complex and deserve their own post. Furthermore, my love of Moore-as-Bond does not change the fact that most of the holistically best Bond films still belong to Connery's era.