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.
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.
