Nobody Reviews It Better: Skyfall (2012)

Finally, Skyfall has arrived; it doesn't disappoint. Thrasher gives you all the details in the conclusion (for now) of our Nobody Reviews It Better series. Truly, we can think of no better way to celebrate Code Redd Net's 11th anniversary than by reviewing this fantastic film.

Throughout Skyfall, villains and allies alike allude to Bond's aptitude for the job; that he has "lost his edge" is certainly the consensus opinion. I take this as a tacit apology for Quantum of Solace, as much for his fellow characters as for his audience. Skyfall is a resurrection narrative, a literal reinscription of the Bond mythos. The generic "bad grammar" of Solace is corrected systematically, starting with the traditional pre-credits sequence. As always, this is pure spectacle and is satisfying on those terms alone (indeed, all the stuntery in the film is clean, well-choreographed, and logical), but a simple gesture reintroduces Bond as we knew him before; as Bond leaps onto the back of a train, which he has just creatively demolished, he adjusts the cuffs of his shirt before continuing the chase. It may seem a banal thing in isolation, but it's a crucial signal, something which Craig-Bond has too often forgotten. Even on the level of story, Skyfall is an investigation, and ultimately a validation, of the renewed relevance of 007. Instead of trying to "update" Bond, Skyfall retrofits his world, gives him Moneypenny, Q, his Astin Martin DB5 (complete with ejector seat!); it places him once again in exotic locales, all shot in expressionistic tones; henchmen routinely meet beautifully absurd deaths; and in a world of increasingly cybernetic, faceless threats, embodies the Other in the classically cheesy villain Raoul Silva, played with aplomb by Javier Bardem. Such retroactivity never seems merely self-referential or cannibalistic, and it's truly wonderful to see the series finally come to terms with its status as an anachronism rather than try to compensate for it. Skyfall is unquestionably Craig's best Bond film, one that finally proves, beyond doubt, his qualifications.

Nobody Reviews It Better: Quantum of Solace (2008)

And here it is, our last entry in the Nobody Reviews It Better series. Chicken Man takes you through a most tepid adventure indeed in Quantum of Solace. We certainly hope you've enjoyed our retrospective; it's been an interesting experience for us, and revisiting these films reinforced our love  for some (Goldfinger, GoldenEye), while for others we found a new and deeper appreciation (Timothy Dalton's two films). Keep it here for our review of Skyfall following its release on November 9, as well as an upcoming two part podcast on this same subject, which Thrasher is currently editing. James Bond will return, clearly.

Quantum of Solace was a short story that Ian Fleming wrote that has James Bond as a seemingly minor character. Coincidentally, the film of the same title seems to have little to do with James Bond as well. Immediately after seeing it, I wondered, if the characters names were changed and there was a different cast of actors, would anyone say, "Wow! This is way too much like a Bond film!"? Besides the Aston and the Walther (and perhaps a woman dipped in some type of commodity asset), hardly anything has the Bond signature. It could easily be just another nameless action movie. What makes it Bond, James Bond? Part of it is the gadgets, none of which are present here. Did his Aston Martin even have any rockets, oil slick, or ejector seat to speak of? It seems like those would come standard with Q Branch. Of course, the Bond girls are included, one with the silly name of Strawberry Fields. I actually liked what happened here with Olga Kurylenko's Camille Montes in that she seemed to have more of a friendship with Bond in achieving a common goal of revenge, rather than being the obligatory sex partner. Any such relationship of the latter type would have felt tacked-on, so I was pleasantly surprised that such an attempt wasn't made. And what about the villains and their villainous plots? The series is famous for these. Weren't some of the earliest films even named after them? Dominic Greene simply doesn't merit it and his scheme, if successful, would be hardly known by anyone. The man is a bit of sissy and rather than having a fearsome henchman like Odd Job, he has his bowl-cut sporting cousin named Elvis. Director Marc Forster said Dominic Greene is supposed to "symbolize the hidden evils in society," and what could be more evil than posing as an environmentalist in order to be more popular and get more funding? Almost as lame is his plan to stage a coup in Bolivia so that he can become the monopoly water provider in the country. Now, I am against government granted privileges to business as much as the next guy. However, it is quite likely that in the municipality in which you live that there is no competition allowed in the provision of this utility. Is James Bond coming to save you as well from the evils of monopoly privileges too? If only. As well, it is somewhat hypocritical of the British government to go around stopping the Quantum group's coups in Latin America when the British Empire has so heavily intervened in the affairs of others itself. In the end, Quantum of Solace just doesn't offer what has made the Bond series great (which might also include a good video game) and might have fit better as a DVD epilogue to Casino Royale.

Nobody Reviews It Better: Casino Royale (2006)

Enter Daniel Craig in the chiaroscuro of film noir for a most unusual pre-credits sequence. Today Thrasher breaks down Casino Royale, a radical Bond film that thankfully challenged many of the stagnant tropes of the series. Regrettably, in the long run it may have been overaggressive in shrugging off much of what makes a Bond film distinctive. But that's a tale for Chicken Man to tell in the final installment of Nobody Reviews It Better.

 

When Bond looks at a bartender, who innocently, even expectantly, asks him how he would like his vodka martini mixed, and Bond replies, "Do I look like I give a damn?", well, that is precisely the sort of generic insouciance Daniel Craig needed to distance himself and the series from the bloated extravagance of Die Another Day. Such an unconventional response is an immeasurably important moment. It's a moment that signifies a significant change in the tenor of the series. Indeed, so much of Casino Royale is given over to reconfiguring Bond that it seems like Craig's Bond is not quite Bond yet, he hasn't earned that title; he's very much Bond-in-training. And quite unlike the others, you would never think to describe his 007 as a smooth operator. He fails at his job, and often. For his first real mission after attaining 00-status (has there ever been a starker contrast in the series than the one between the CGI-driven finale of Die Another Day and the film noir pre-credits sequence of Royale?), Bond must travel to Montenegro to enter an ultra-high-stakes poker game organized by Le Chiffre, one of the world's most notorious and terrorist-friendly bankers. During the game, Bond loses. It's something that would never have happened to Sean Connery, Roger Moore, or Pierce Brosnan; they were all faultless, invincible gamblers. Sure, Bond gets back in the game with the help of his old CIA pal Felix, but seeing Bond lose like this, even once, shakes loose decades-old expectations and prepares us for something new. That's what makes his unexpected, monogamous devotion to fellow agent Vesper Lynd work so unexpectedly; when you unseat one set of conventions, you make it possible to unseat them all, and Craig thankfully tosses aside the womanizing connotations of the role in favor of love, something Bond hasn't hasn't had the courage to try since On Her Majesty's Secret Service (and, to some degree, in the Timothy Dalton films). Lest you think it's all wine and roses, Casino Royale has many outstanding action and suspense numbers, even though I think the hand-to-hand fights, despite their suitably brutal presentation, are sometimes filmed in a confusing, headache-inducing manner. For all his "failings," though, this Bond emerges with our respect, and soon enough our sympathy. When the iconic theme music finally plays at the end (an astoundingly astute use of the music, I might add), he's earned it.



Nobody Reviews It Better: Die Another Day (2002)

It's Thanksgiving today in our cushy Montreal office, so to celebrate, we offer you the second part of a 007 double-header this weekend. Thrasher returns to Die Another Day for the first time in 10 years, and believe it when we tell you, it hasn't aged gracefully. Unlike Moore-Bond's final outing, Brosnan-Bond was still more than suitable for the role; it's just the material that got bloated. Casino Royale was the recoil, and that's next up in Nobody Reviews It Better.

At least we got Nightfire out of all this.

Back in the Geocities days, I wrote this about Die Another Day: "I meant to say that [Halle Berry] is clearly not very good in her role as Jinx, and together with Bond they are content to trade insipid sexual innuendos throughout the film, something that was immensely annoying on my second time through." Go ahead and add a third time to that statement. Without question, Halle Berry is the worst of Bond's coterie of gal pals, and she doesn't just "trade" those insipid sexual innuendos with Pierce Brosnan, she speaks entirely in them. Pun is just about the only language she knows, and everything she says will make you cringe ("Ornithologist, huh? Wow. Now there's a mouthful."). It's too bad, really, because when she's not onscreen the film isn't that bad, certainly not as bad as I remember it. Of course, there's a rather odd plot involving a few North Koreans who use gene therapy to become snooty, sneering Brits, and a giant satellite laser called Icarus that melts away an ice hotel, but that's fine. It works generically, anyway, seeing as how most Bond narratives are pretty far-fetched. What matters most is that everything is executed well, and with conviction, and the first half of Die Another Day works. By far the best action sequence in the film is Bond's fencing match with "white" playboy Gustav Graves; it's so carefully constructed and exciting it manages to overcome the completely unnecessary Madonna cameo by sheer, boundless will (incidentally, I'd be remiss if I forgot to mention just how god-awful her theme song really is, about as bad as her acting). And for eagle-eyed Bond aficionados, there's plenty of Easter eggs and hidden references to find. But such references, cute though they may be, only serve to remind viewers of much older, much better, and much less anniversary-driven films. This becomes even more clear once Halle Berry, after disappearing following a short introduction at the beginning of the film, suddenly reappears for Round 2 of her pun war with Bond ("Oh yeah, I think I got the thrust of it."). Patience wears thin during these exchanges, and it seems as if their uninspired dialogue has been matched by a series of equally uninspired stunts in the second half. There's a phenomenally lame laser grid boxing match between Bond and Gustav's muscular bodyguard, and in the background Jinx flails around while strapped to a malfunctioning chair, still saying idiotic things ("Switch them off, or I'll be half the girl I used to be!"). Bond even goes surfboarding for a minute or two, and his CGI self hasn't aged gracefully over the past decade. Furthermore, there's a strange and intermittent use of slow-mo in the fight scenes that seems absolutely at-odds not only with the style of this film, but of the whole series as well. DAD may be an overblown mess, but there's still some enjoyment to be salvaged from the rubble. There's just a lot of rubble to clear first.



Nobody Reviews It Better: Tomorrow Never Dies (1997)

How do you follow up something as seminal as GoldenEye? For Pierce Brosnan, you kick back and settle in for the ride. In this installment of Nobody Reviews It Better, Thrasher catches up with Brosnan-Bond as he relaxes in the well-earned comforts of formula.

i totes got a licenz 2 kill, lol

Pierce Brosnan's 007 loves his toys, even more so than Sean Connery, and the scenes in which he remotely, and so deftly, maneuvers his new car with a cell phone is likely the best evidence of his growing technophilia. Though GoldenEye had its share of pocket-sized gadgets, Tomorrow Never Dies is tops in Q-labs exhibitionism, and yet, despite the increased sophistication of the electronics, it's a tried-and-true, traditional Bond film. Elliot Carver may be an intriguing, and very contemporary, take on the megalomaniac super villain, but he's still seeking out his worldwide empire, just like Dr. No, Goldfinger, Blofeld, and others. He plans to further his news supremacy via yellow journalism; specifically, he coordinates the disappearance of a British warship in the territorial waters of China, thereby pushing the UK and China close to war, and thereby putting himself in a position to assume the exclusive broadcast rights once the smoke has cleared. Bond is quickly sent abroad to sort things out before it all goes sour, and that's where he runs into Wai Lin (Michelle Yeoh), one of the more respectable (if not exactly well-rounded) female cohorts in the entire canon. Bond and Lin make for a pretty good team, and their motorcycle chase through the crowded streets of Saigon is a ludicrous, enjoyable sequence. All the action is handled competently, even though some of the special effects and CGI have not aged gracefully (this is especially noticeable when Bond and Lin use one of Carver's banners for a makeshift escape). Still, though, it's obvious Tomorrow Never Dies is little more than a routine mission for Bond. Eventually Carver captures him, tells him far too much of his nefarious schemes, fails to kill him when it would be advantageous to do so, and so on. Maybe that's part of its charm; Dies may play it safe, but it proves the formula is still satisfying when followed properly. As Bond tells Carver, "You forgot the first rule of mass media, Elliot: give the people what they want!" And who would know this better than Bond? He's been doing it (better) for fifty years.



Nobody Reviews It Better: Licence to Kill (1989)

Much like Chicken Man in his appraisal of The Living Daylights, here Thrasher finds Timothy Dalton's final turn as Bond in Licence to Kill to be a refreshing thing indeed. Unfortunately, legal disputes put the series on a significant hiatus after this solid action film, so we never got to see where else Dalton-Bond could go. Fortunately, though, he steered Bond away from the absurd comedy Roger Moore's adventures had devolved into, towards our preferred incarnation, that being Brosnan-Bond, and also towards a fantastic video game adaptation.

Last time I looked into the series, Roger Moore was still waddling around after young girls and tussling with Christopher Walken in a blimp. For me, A View to a Kill exemplified the excessive stupidity and bloated boredom of the Moore years. But things certainly changed for the better when Timothy Dalton came aboard, and his brooding Bond in The Living Daylights was so pleasantly different from Moore's cheeky, upper-crusty version. Dalton's seriousness is embellished still further in Licence to Kill, when a highly personal revenge motive drives Bond instead of the usual cold-blooded assignment carried out for Queen and Country. In our traditional pre-credits sequence, Bond accompanies his old CIA pal Felix (in the middle of his wedding in Miami, no less) on an emergency mission to catch Franz Sanchez, a notorious, and immensely wealthy, drug lord. They succeed in a thrilling aerial chase, a sequence not only exciting for its own sake (as is the implicit purpose of these pre-credits stunts), but also one of the rare instances when the pre-credits sequence is directly related to the rest of the film, a la The World is Not Enough. Following his capture, Sanchez is freed and he immediately returns to kill Felix. Though he is unsuccessful in killing Felix via sharks, Sanchez shoots his wife and retreats to a banana republic. Bond swears revenge and is subsequently suspended by MI6 after he refuses to drop his vendetta.

For the first hour or so, Licence to Kill doesn't really feel like a Bond film, except for the hyperbolic stunts. Bond's suspension from MI6 means very few of the familiar narrative tropes remind us that we are watching 007. Thankfully, however, and unlike the similar Quantum of Solace, about midway through Q turns up to issue Bond his trademark gadgetry, even though he seems to forget to bring along Bond's equally trademark wit. It's not a totally dreary affair, but Licence to Kill is indeed fairly austere. I'm reminded of early Bonds, like the earliest, Dr. No; Dalton does make a few quips here and there, but the tone is realistic, or grasping at it, and Dalton has the sensibilities to pull this off. It's welcome after a decade-plus of Moore's lecherous innuendos. He's matched by a strong villain in Sanchez, as well as his surprisingly adept (and very young!) henchman, Benicio Del Toro. Licence to Kill also has some of the finest stunt work in any Bond film, especially the wonderful tanker chase/fight to close things. Still, it's tempting to simply look at Dalton's tenure as a stop-gap en route to Pierce Brosnan, especially with only two films to his name, but closer inspection reveals a fine, multilayered interpretation of the character that fits in nicely with the canon.

Nobody Reviews It Better: The Living Daylights (1987)

At last, Moore-Bond has been relieved of his duties! Now, in an effort not to sound unduly harsh of Sir Sleeze, we should note that not all of his 007 films were as bland as the last few; some, like The Spy Who Loved Me and For Your Eyes Only, were actually quite good, and to some degree justified his overlong tenure. But when he was boring, nobody did it better. Or worse, rather. Nevertheless, it's about time we moved on to the short, but somewhat underappreciated legacy of Timothy Dalton. For being such a champ and withering most of the Moore-Bonds, Chicken-Man has first dibs on the refreshing The Living Daylights. Thrasher will check in later with Dalton's second, and regrettably final, film.

After the Moore-Bond marathon, I have never looked upon Timothy Dalton more favorably. First impressions, though, were a bit rougher than they ought to be; Dalton's first "Bond. James Bond," seemed more like how one would address a commanding officer than handle a self-introduction to a beautiful woman. But the gritty push-back against the goofy Moore-Bond style was thankfully not overdone as Daniel Craig's was/is. We see this firsthand in Bond's refusal to shoot a sniper because she is an amateur (and a woman).When told that this might have consequences for his job security, Bond is ready and willing to toss away a job that would require him to do things he felt were wrong. Unlike Craig, the grittiness of the Dalton-Bond doesn't mean being without emotion. In fact, he can be downright sentimental.

One of my favorite parts in this movie is seeing something we might not typically associate with Bond: the act of courtship. After helping the celloist sniper escape from the Soviet's reach, he takes her on a date in Vienna. First he buys her a new dress and they attend the opera. They go to a carnival-like atmosphere, where Bond uses his marksmanship skills to win her a very large stuffed animal. They get caught smooching at the end of their Ferris Wheel ride. "You want to go around again?" asks the conductor. It really is quite cute. I hope one can understand how refreshing this is to me, as Moore-Bond seemed to have less emotional attachment to his conquests than I imagine the typical John does with his ladies of the night. This actually seemed romantic.

As for the other elements of the movie, they seemed to be done quite well. The plot is a bit hard to follow, but doesn't suffer from the implausibility of the outlandish Moore films. The villain is an arms dealer/drug trafficker who fancies himself as an expert warfare strategist and is played by Joe Don Baker (who, interestingly enough, also plays CIA agent Jack Wade in Goldeneye and Tommorow Never Dies, which means he's in more Bond movies than Timothy Dalton!). He finds himself in a jam when the Russians cancel their arms deal since he has the money tied up in trying to profit from heroin trade. He is in league with a rogue KGB agent who falsely defected to the British, only to be "recaptured" by another rogue KGB agent in a plot made to look like the Russians tried to reclaim him. I'm still trying to figure it out.

The most confusing part is how Bond allies himself with General Pushkin, a Russian betrayed by the fake defector, while also allying himself with the Afghan muhajadeen against the occupying Russian army. He seems to be the inverse of Switzerland: instead of being neutral, he's on everyone's side.

The action scenes (including an ice chase and a guerrilla attack on the Russians) are good, and 007 Legends 2 could easily use a scene from The Living Daylights for a bonafide mission. Overall, I'm impressed with Timothy Dalton's debut.

"Q, perchance this outfit makes me look like a doofus."



Nobody Reviews It Better: Spice World (1997) Interlude

Parodies (loving or otherwise) of the 007 films are legion, and ultimately they attest to the enduring cultural impact of the series. These parodies range from the generic and fairly banal (In Like Flint, Our Man Flint) to the more ostentatious (Austin Powers x3). Aside from full on parody, there's plenty of quick cameos and references to the series, including this one, a personal favorite, from Spice World:

I have to say, Roger's way more fun in these few scenes than he is throughout the entirety of Octopussy and A View to a Kill. It's good to see him bring out his inner Blofeld.

Stick with CRN for more (that is, with less Moore) 007 coverage as part of "Nobody Reviews It Better," our comprehensive countdown to the release of Skyfall on November 9.

007 Legends Gets Goldfinger

I was wrong; the fifth classic mission to be featured in 007 Legends is not Dr. No. You probably already know this, seeing as how it was reported three days ago and all. I've never really been the most punctual bloggers in the world, but if you haven't been privy to the news, take a look:

If it couldn't be Dr. No, then I suppose Goldfinger is the only other option. For the time being, I'm assuming there's not going to be a golfing mission against Auric. Nonetheless, this looks perfectly acceptable, with most of the key moments from the film remaining intact, for the most part. Why, Bond even jettisons some poor guy from the seat of his car, even though the car this time is something glossy and new, and not the vintage Aston Martin DB5 I prefer.

(Curiously enough, the comments section for that video is filled with youtubers clamoring for a game more like Nightfire or Everything or Nothing. I'd like to endorse that viewpoint.)

So there you have it. On October 16, get ready to take digital Daniel Craig through Moonraker, On Her Majesty's Secret Service, Licence to Kill, Die Another Day, Goldfinger, and eventually a downloadable Skyfall mission.

Nobody Reviews It Better: A View to a Kill (1985)

Thrasher returns to Mooreville one last time for Roger's seventh (!) sordid mission as 007. Happy trails, old boy. MGM would wisely bring in Timothy Dalton as the relief pitcher in The Living Daylights, something which Chicken Man will detail in the next installment of Nobody Reviews It Better.

We've come to the end of Roger Moore's tenure as 007, and A View to a Kill is certainly more of a whimper than a bang. After seven tepid, uninspired and uninterrupted entries, Moore's ridiculously agile, and somehow, still virile, seemingly septuagenarian Bond goes out with one of the most pedestrian films in the series. Christopher Walken is a fantastic choice for the classically maniacal Bond villain Max Zorin; unfortunately, he doesn't get to be the kind of Napoleon he should be until the last act, and by then it's too late. Though he gets to rattle off some wonderful Walken-isms ("More! More power! More! Do it!"), he spends most of his time on screen as a quietly menacing richboy who bets on horses. His fantastic schemes only take form at the end; he plans to trigger a catechism that would inundate Silicon Valley, thus giving him a virtual monopoly in microchip technology. When the film finally yields to his over-the-top-ness, he really shines, cackling as he shoots his own men with a submachine gun and flying his blimp into the Golden Gate Bridge. His enthusiasm in these scenes stands in stark contrast with Moore's wearying temper. Moore looks like the tired old man he probably was, and this is particularly noticeable when he seduces his much younger co-stars, or when he "snowboards" down a mountain momentarily to the tune of "California Girls." The problem isn't the action sports segue, or the song, both of which could be amusing in a different context. Moore is the problem. It's simply not believable, even in the fictional world of 007, that a man who looks so old could do so much. There's a fun sequence or two, especially the rigged horse race through Zorin's estate, or the vertiginous finale in San Francisco, but it's all been done before by other Bonds, and it's all been done better. And for those few spirited moments of action, there's that many more scenes of banal dialogue. Unlike, say, Diamonds Are Forever, which is at least interesting because it marks a time of tension and transition for the series, A View to a Kill in no way indicates future directions. This is about as mediocre as Bond would ever be.

Nobody Reviews It Better: For Your Eyes Only (1981)

Chicken Man, our resident Roger Moore scholar, is taking short break from covering Sir Sleeze in order to give Thrasher a crack at it. Now broadcasting from our new Montreal office!

James Bond may get serious once again with For Your Eyes Only, especially after the absurd weightlessness of Moonraker, but it's a schizophrenic seriousness at best. Witness the traditional pre-credits sequence: in an uncharacteristically sober moment, Bond convalesces at the grave of his short-lived wife, Teresa, and then, with nothing more than a wry smile, off he goes to chuck Blofeld (and his poor cat) into a factory's chimney. It's a breathlessly stupid, farcical sequence, and I would be willing to praise it if the rest of the film fell more or less in line. It doesn't. There's a bit of a throwback narrative here to the Cold War concerns of Sean Connery's 007, as a British spy boat is sunk in the Ionian Sea and Bond is asked to recover its missile targeting computer before the Reds can do the same. Bond also has to contend with Melina Havelock, seeking revenge for the murder of her parents. Naturally, they up working toward the same goal, and they get along famously, that is after Roger Moore pushes her around for a while. It's a workable concept for a spy film, but it gets confused by too many characters, too many betrayals, and some sensationally slow going expository scenes. Often it feels like little more than a travelogue, as Bond and Melina stop to gab about the philosophical weight of vengeance in front of alternating, but always beatific, Spanish and Italian vistas. Thankfully, Moore's upper-crusty peevishness had yet to really reach full bloom, and even his own special brand of sleaze is noticeably absent. This is probably the most sincere Moore would ever be, and for a Moore film, For Your Eyes Only has some exceptionally well-designed action sequences, including an extended car chase in the Spanish countryside, where Bond's usually well-equipped car is swapped for a nimble yellow bug, and an even more prolonged chase in which Bond runs the winter sports gambit through the Olympic village in Cortina d'Ampezzo, Italy. These scenes amusing, no doubt, as well as properly filmed and fantastically edited, but they are poorly integrated into the overall film, and they happen so early on that bland story has to carry things until the fairly enjoyable finale. For Your Eyes Only is fine for an afternoon's entertainment, but it's only a middling, mild-mannered Bond.

Nobody Reviews It Better: Moonraker (1979)

Hello and welcome again. From under the sea to outer space, CRN analyzes Bond from our purpose-built laboratory couches. Stay tuned. Thrasher will return in For Your Eyes Only.

To fully enjoy Moonraker, and frankly anything with Roger Moore in it, one must not take it seriously. Major plot points left me asking, what? The very first scene, which shows the hijacking of a Moonraker shuttle while it's being transported on a 747, sets things in motion, with Bond being sent to investigate. We find out later that Drax took it after having loaned it to the British. Bond later asks him why he would steal his own spacecraft and he responds that there was a malfunction with another aircraft so he needed this one back. It seems very mystifying to me that after hatching his plot for years in advance, Drax wouldn't have the patience to simply wait to get his spaceship back and avoid unwanted attention. He might not have had to deal with Bond if not for this indiscretion. Generally his dealings with Bond seem very reckless. First, he tries to kill Bond with an aeronautic centrifuge, and this could plausibly look like an accident. But then Drax tries to end him by a sniper while they are out hunting. My problem with this is that if Drax had instead tried to kill Bond by shotgun, there was at least the possibility of making it look like a hunting accident. If he just wanted Bond dead (with or without fabricating a cause of death without foul play), it seemed like he had ample opportunity to do so. As Thrasher points out in CRN Podcast 3, there is the Aristotelian notion that actions in drama should not only seem plausible and probable, but somewhat inevitable. The lack of adherence to this notion is perhaps the biggest problem with Moonraker.

Nevertheless, it does have its appeals. The gadgets range from the very practical to the somewhat outlandish. Twice Bond is rescued by his dart-shooting bracelet; the utility of such a device is apparent. However, Bond also has a canoe that can not only turn into a motorized speedboat, but also convert into a hovercraft for amphibious use. Later, he is driving a different speedboat that could transform into a hang-glider (just in case you're boating next to a waterfall). So, the appeal has diminishing marginal utility the more crazy they get, not in terms of the technology, but in terms of how Q or Bond would have the foresight to see their applicability and the logistics of having the ideal boat wherever in the world Bond may be. (Other Bond movies deal with this problem by Bond making use of what's available to him: in The Man with the Golden Gun, Bond "commandeers" an AMC in a showroom to give chase; in GoldenEye, a tank). Also, the space scenes are done quite well and to my untrained eye, the Moonraker space station looks convincing. The large space combat scene adequately pays homage to the massive underwater battle filmed in Thunderball. The climax in the final frontier is easily the highlight of the movie, and is what makes Moonraker as memorable as it is. (Also Jaws). To top it all off, there is a very good game adaption. It is called Night Fire.

The World is Not Enough 100%, and more

PS1 TWINE, that is. Sure, it's nowhere near as good as its classic, award-winning N64 cousin, but it still works quite well on its own. As I noted in my review, if nothing else, I love the Russian Roulette stage. Besides, the PS1 version has to be one of the only decent first-person shooters on that system, which wasn't known for producing them beyond the Medal of Honor series. Alas, there's no multiplayer mode, so all that you get for achieving high scores on any particular level are cheats, such as All Weapons, Invisible Bond, and my favorite, Power Goons. Still, though, I have what Chicken Man once called the Curse of Completionism, and so I just had to see this one through. It was far easier than I anticipated. Missions scores are calculated in four ways: Efficiency, Accuracy, Health, and Time. Most levels are short if you know what you're doing, armor is plentiful (even on the hardest difficulty setting, 007), auto-aim makes marksmanship a breeze, and I'm still not totally sure what efficiency is supposed to imply, and I routinely had low scores in that category. If you don't dally around, always use your Wolfram P2K, and keep yourself clothed in armor, piece of cake, you'll have this one 100% in a day or so.

We certainly hope you're enjoying the current deluge of Bond coverage on Code Redd Net. In addition to the ongoing Nobody Reviews It Better series, we have an upcoming podcast on the subject, as well as our continuing interest in the forthcoming Skyfall film and the accompanying 007 Legends game. Stay tuned for more.

Nobody Reviews It Better: The Spy Who Loved Me (1977)

In the dramatic fashion that only CRN can bring, today The Spy Who Loved Me is reviewed for your reading pleasure. Please stick with us as we review all the MGM 007 films.

To be clear here, the film The Spy Who Loved Me has nothing to do with Ian Fleming's novel of the same name. This may be a good thing, since it wouldn't have translated well to the screen and doesn't have a whole lot of action. But I feel it is necessary to note this fact so that Fleming cannot be held responsible for what follows. Instead of a woman being harassed by thugs, this movie is about a sea-loving individual who wants to build an underwater civilization. He also hijacks British and Russian nuclear submarines. Both governments send their best agents to investigate. The Russian one happens to be female and whose boyfriend was killed by Bond in Austria. 007 is thus put in the interesting position of having to compete with a woman while not getting killed by her or the iconic juggernaut named Jaws. Overall, I think this is one of Moore's better movies and feels very much like a Bond movie should. I concede the latter because of a few certain elements: the car chase involving a Spy Hunter-like Lotus that can turn into a submarine, the villain's outlandish lair (not quite outrageous as an active volcano, though), Bond's ability to charm a hostile woman, the widely recognizable theme song, etc. The movie flows in a logical and entertaining matter, without too many evil plot scenes that slow the movie down. The biggest problem, however, that keeps this movie from being better is the nonsensical and implausible plot of the sea-lover, Karl Stromberg. Capturing submarines is serious business, since these things are designed to be stealthy. Stromberg deals with this problem by obtaining a sub tracker in Egypt. While finding the sub is explained, what is not explained is how his giant tanker can sneak up on the subs undetected with the subs either surfaced or not too deep to be swallowed by the tanker. The concept that he can do this just seems silly. The Russian and British navies are made to be not only incompetent sailors but cowards for not scuttling these very dangerous boats. Whatever happened to the battle cry of, "Don't give up the ship!"? Bond is on one of these captured subs and rallies the captured crews to fight against their captors. It is a mystery as to why Stromberg chose to keep any of them alive, as doing so led to his downfall, making him look stupid. And perhaps he is because his plot makes no sense. What he wants to do is create an underwater civilization, which he could very well do without killing or stealing. This would easily make him a hero instead of a villain. Why he needs to create a global nuclear war is not mentioned. He just does. Overlooking these missteps is necessary to fully enjoy The Spy Who Loved Me, as well as pausing to enjoy the two Nightfire multiplayer maps that are based on environments in this movie: Stromberg's Atlantis base and submarine pen. As always, Bots make everything better.

Nobody Reviews It Better: The Man With the Golden Gun (1974)

In anticipation of the release of Skyfall, CRN continues its survey of Bond movies with The Man With the Golden Gun. Now broadcasting from Thailand!
 What I found to be the most interesting thing about The Man With the Golden Gun is how the facts surrounding 007's reputation in the story coincide the facts surrounding James Bond's reputation to audiences. In other words, just as Bond does quite little within this movie to justify his being the world's top secret agent and seems to be riding the waves from his past, so does Roger Moore's popularity ride on the coattails of the legend created by Sean Connery. And Bond's being the best is quite central to the story, as this is the very reason Francisco Scaramanga wants to kill him; that is, to prove that he himself is the best. What is woefully missing from the movie is any demonstration of how either of these two men of action is the best at what they do. There are three examples of Scaramanga performing his occupation. The first is during the opening sequence in which his small butler, Nick Nack, pays an assassin to kill Scaramanga. The fact that Scaramanga is able to defeat his would-be assassin seems to rely more on rigged trickery rather than elite skills. The second is a short-range sniper shot. The third is a point blank shooting in cold blood. None of these killings is very impressive. As for Bond (and this seems to be a theme among the Moore era), it seems that his ability to survive rests more upon luck and the incompetence of his adversaries than anything else. Though it is necessary and proper that Scaramanga intentionally spares Bond until he can face him in a duel, the case in which Bond gets captured and not killed fits the stereotype that Bond should be dead but for villains wanting him to die in over-the-top traps. He cannot even credit Q Branch with this escape. (It is curious that though Q is in multiple scenes in this film, he doesn't provide Bond with any gadgets that I can recall.) Also interesting to me is when Bond is confronted with the nature of his work by Scaramanga: "You work for peanuts, a hearty 'Well done!' from her Majesty, the Queen, and a pittance of a pension. After that, we are the same." Though the story about compensation seems to conflict with Bond's taste in wine and choice of automobiles, it is the case that he assassinates with the blessing of the State. Does such a blessing change the moral nature of his acts? Clearly, there are situations in which Bond justly kills in self-defense or to prevent mass murders. But there are also times in which if he had not had his license to kill, he would be considered criminal. Bond seems somewhat defensive when called out regarding this. This subject will be explored in more detail as we continue with this review series. In sum, what is memorable about The Man with the Golden Gun is the dwarf, the three nipples, the Stuntman-reminiscent corkscrew jump, and that silly golden one-shooter. Not much else.

Nobody Reviews It Better: Live and Let Die (1973)

Yours truly is glad to be back with you for our survey of 007 films. Today we explore the transition to Roger Moore, which may have not been the low point of the series, but on its way to it.

Roger Moore's first Bond movie is definitely one of the more politically incorrect ones, with seemingly the entire African-American community of Harlem, as well as New Orleans, conspiring against him. As I understand it, this follows in the tradition of Fleming's novel, and I'm glad that the filmmakers had the courage to do this. However, a closer following to the original plot might have been a bit of an improvement. In the novel, the crime boss, Mr. Big, has connections to Soviet intelligence and is smuggling 17th century gold coins from English territories in the Caribbean. In the film, Mr. Big is simply planning to give away two tons of heroin in the U.S. in order to put his competitors out of business, creating a monopoly for himself, and increase the number of addicts. The problems with the latter are two-fold. One is that it gives no justification for MI6 presence in the U.S. Why would British intelligence care about drug trafficking in America? Secondly, as one who studies economics, I am offended that the screenwriters would think that this plan might ever work. It suffers from the fallacy of "predatory pricing" in which one firm will attempt to lower the price of its good in order to force other firms out of the market, and once this occurs will be able to increase prices due to having no competition. However, a firm attempting this strategy will lose money if it is selling at a price under the cost of production. Giving your product away would definitely qualify and it's not as if giving it away is cheap. The reason prohibited drugs are so expensive is because of the risks associated with production and distribution. Dealers will not work for free, so Mr. Big has to have the cash to pay his employees without getting any revenue from their labor. And even if he is able to put his competition out of business (which is not likely to be the case since the monetary revenues are so much higher than the monetary costs in this industry due to prohibition), it doesn't mean that new competitors won't establish themselves after he raises his prices. So not only is it not the case that he will have anything more than a very short-lived monopoly, it is likely that it would be so short that he won't even recoup the costs of giving heroin away in the first place! (And this isn't the only time a Bond villain will attempt to use such a bonehead strategy: Max Zorin tries to do something similar in A View to a Kill).

Ok, so the plot makes no sense, but what about the rest of it? I will say that the characters are much more interesting and colorful than many others in Bond films. Baron Samedi has attained legend status in the Bond canon, partially both for his mystical black magic persona and apparent immortality. Not only does Bond have to deal with him, but the very scary Tee Hee who sports a prosthetic limb with a two-pronged claw at the end. (It's too bad that their boss, Mr. Big, has an idiotic business plan.) Solitaire is not just a Bond girl that happens to be present and female, with few distinguishing characteristics. She is a tarot card reader and presented as somewhat of a quasi-virgin. They all interact with Bond in what some might see to be his most dangerous environment yet: being a "honky" in predominantly black parts of town. So these elements (villains, Bond girl, "exotic" location) are accounted for and satisfactory. How about the new Bond? He seems suave enough and even charming in a certain way. He also has the Bond-ish characteristic of unashamedly enjoying bourgeois luxuries. And yet the Moore-Bond disease rears its ugly head: he is a dirty man (he tricks the quasi-virgin to get her into bed), he is captured but not killed multiple times (one wonders why such sadistic sociopaths would not want to enjoy watching Bond's demise, consequently allowing him to make escape), he doesn't bring the toughness to the character that Sir Connery does (how many fights can you imagine Moore winning?), and he embodies my least favorite thing about Bond: the corny puns. All that being said, this is a fast-paced Bond film, with every scene pushing into the next and no long breaks in the action so that the evil plot can be revealed. Live and Let Die is above the average Moore movie, but not the best of what 007 has to offer.

Nobody Reviews It Better: Diamonds Are Forever (1971)

Once again, Thrasher returns with a review, this time of Diamonds Are Forever, the last official Sean Connery vehicle. Expect Chicken to return from his extended leave of absence in our next installment.

It seems like Sean Connery's Bond would like to forget about On Her Majesty's Secret Service. He acts like he never left the series, only taking a short "holiday," as one of his superiors calls it, to refresh himself before returning to duty. Even when he chases down Blofeld in the pre-credits sequence, presumably to revenge to death of his wife in the previous film, he does so with a wry humor, like a man smiling through a dull chore. Indeed, there isn't even a single mention of his personal tragedy (strangely enough, that would come later, with Roger Moore). In the world of Diamonds Are Forever, George Lazenby was an unpleasant diversion, and Diamonds puts the series back on the path to outlandish comedy and self-parody, something which began in earnest with Thunderball and You Only Live Twice, and would prepare us for the often unmitigated cheese of Moore. Through a fairly obscure plot involving diamond smuggling and extortion, Bond is cast into a series of strange locations, such as funeral parlors and moon landing simulations, and the incongruity of seeing his well-tailored dinner suit walking alongside the business casual clientele of Las Vegas is very kitsch indeed. Diamonds Are Forever is fun for exactly this reason, but I'm not sure the filmmakers, or the rapidly aging Connery, were in on the joke as much as they'd like to believe, hence the schizophrenic shifts in tone. Still, there's plenty of action spectacle to recommend in this one, especially the French Connection-lite car chase through the streets of Vegas, and Bond's fight with Peter Franks in an elevator, something which brings to mind the similarly enclosed brawl between Bond and Red Grant in From Russia With Love. But that's the problem with Diamonds; even at its best moments, it can only remind us of earlier, better films. Bond's transition, from Connery to Moore, begins here, and consequently this one suffers for it.

Nobody Reviews It Better: On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969)

A drastic change, indeed. Today Thrasher looks at On Her Majesty's Secret Service, of the most unusual, and one of the most interesting, Bond films to date.

More than any other Bond film, certainly before and arguably since, On Her Majesty's Secret Service is a strange one. It's weird. It's different. It's also immensely interesting, for Bond fans especially, because of these differences. Many consider this the most faithful Ian Fleming adaptation, but for me that's an insight of minimal critical value. No, what matters here is how George Lazenby develops such a strikingly different character from his filmic predecessor. Gone is the dry cruelty of Sean Connery, and in its place is a softer, more humored, more human Bond that directly confesses his shortcomings to the spectator, plays at being disinterested in young women, and silently sobs before the end credits. Oh yes, it's truly difficult to imagine Connery playing this role. OHMSS is quite daring compared to the others, it's practically an art film with substantial financial backer. Much like Casino Royale, this one takes what we know and inverts it, but not for the sake of criticism; it's like a knowing wink, flipping things around a bit to keep us interested, to keep the Bond formula fresh, and indeed we'll see that most of the generic gambles this film takes are immediately withdrawn by the next film.

And what do we make of that odd pre-credits sequence, where Bond trails an unidentified woman to a beach at dawn, saves her from drowning, is attacked by thugs, and, when the woman sneaks off without so much as a "Gee, thanks," turns to the camera and remarks, "This never happened to that other fellow." I believe it's an open admission of guilt, a concession to the spectator, essentially telling us upfront that, Hey, Connery may not be here, but don't blame us, and let's have some fun anyway. Not only that, but it also sets up the kind of Bond that Lazenby will be. In a way, these uncharacteristically modest words prep us for a Bond not as self-assured, not as rugged, and certainly not as boorish as the Connery iteration, even though the stylistics of the fight scenes in OHMSS might tell us that 007 is more brutal than ever. In that sense, the kind of baroque camera work on display here seems quite at odds with the rest of the film, and would absolutely be a better fit in the previous five films. Nevertheless, the non-hand-to-hand action set pieces in the film are fantastic, well-choreographed affairs, especially the ski chase, and the bobsleigh beatdown between Bond and Blofeld. OHMSS should also be commended for its most radical challenge to the series' grammar, something which had already become staid and subject to parody, and that's the infamous tragic ending. It's never really been done since, although I suspect it may return sometime during Daniel Craig's tenure as 007. Too bad Connery had to return so quickly to the series, only to take Bond's true tragedy and spin it into another one-liner.

Nobody Reviews It Better: You Only Live Twice (1967)

Following an unexpectedly lengthy hiatus, due to unforeseen, international business, our series continues with Thrasher's thoughts on the fifth entry in the 007 cycle, You Only Live Twice.

Watching You Only Live Twice today, it’s hard not to think about Austin Powers; though Mike Myers’ films broadly parodied the conventions of all things spy, and obviously its most notable cinematic agent has always been James Bond, You Only Live Twice seems to bear the burden of Powers’ mockery (its love, really). It’s also hard to not see why this one is so easily sent-up. Continuing the trend started by Goldfinger, each successive Bond has been bolder, more salacious and more strange, and its only mission, seemingly, to top the spectacle of the previous film. In many ways, Twice has them all beat, at least when it comes to fireworks. There’s even a pre-credits sequence, in which Bond is “killed” while “on the job,” that brings us back to the gimmicky surprise of From Russia With Love’s opening number. This time, however, MI6 has staged Bond’s death to swerve SPECTRE (a plot device the upcoming Skyfall seems likely to borrow, if the most recent trailers aren’t misleading us). Liberated by his “death,” 007 is sent to Tokyo to investigate the origins of a secret rocket launched into space, which has stolen (or is it swallowed?) American and Russian spacecraft in orbit, setting the two nations at even greater odds than before. Of course, Britain is positioned by this film as the benevolent arbitrator, trying to cool the tensions between two trigger-happy superpowers. The Brits’ efforts are mostly ineffectual, however, and soon war is imminent.

No troubles, though, because Bond’s on the scene, and he has an arsenal of hokey gadgets to help him succeed. “Little Nelly” is the most prominent of these toys, a quick-assemble helicopter he uses to locate the requisite secret volcano lair (“Is it a hollow dead volcano like I asked for?”). Bond is, inevitably, attacked by enemy aircraft, and he engages in one of the sloppiest action sequences in the series. Though green screens are inevitable, and forgivable, in these early Bonds, this time around they are lazily used, incongruous close-up shots inserted into the dogfight, and the effect is unanimously silly, and are in no way pleasing because of their silliness. Same goes for most of the shots involving the launch or recovery of spacecraft. You Only Live Twice is quite often a film stretched beyond the capabilities of its craftsmen. And even though the Japanese locales look lovely and the culture is rendered in a relatively fair manner otherwise, it’s hard to explain, much less excuse, Sean Connery’s yellowface disguise as Japanese peasantry. Is it one of those things you just chalk up to “the times,” shrug, and move on? This is an old film, culturally, aesthetically, stylistically, and socially, so what are the effects of such racism? How much less virulent is the offense when this much time has gone by? Sure, the film has a strictly narrative explanation for his portrayal, and he doesn’t even speak in stereotype, but exactly how much better is this than, say, Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany’s? Should I, we, still be offended? It’s tough to say. Twice is more obviously offensive than most Bonds, but I suspect there’s always a bit of sublimation going on for modern audiences watching these old Bond movies; they’re so old-fashioned (there’s a fairly typical bit in Twice when Tiger Tanaka, an ally, tells Bond, “In Japan, men come first and women come second,” and Bond responds, not at all sarcastically, “I just might retire to here.”) that to enjoy them you have to ignore the deeper meanings, or at least resolve not to fight against them, or openly laugh at them, or else the politics might make you want to put a brick through your TV.

Following a rather dull middle portion, things do pick up by the end, and the ensuing ninja-henchmen-Bond-Blofeld firefight is an enjoyably excessive affair. Still, I can’t help but notice the general weariness, not just on the visage of Connery, but on the series as a whole. A change, and a particularly drastic one, was certainly necessary to let the series breathe a bit, even if it was only a temporary, fleeting fix. That reprieve would come swiftly.

Skyfall Trailer

As usual for trailers of 007 films, Skyfall looks to be quite exciting and have those high budget action scenes. Apparently Bond lives more than twice as there is another "resurrection" story (along with a premature come-back narrative). We also have the introduction of a much younger Q (and perhaps along with him the gadgetry for which he is famous). Could this be a push-back more towards Bond's roots?