Under Neon Loneliness

Four years we've been waiting for Skyfall as MGM crumbled and continued before finally Bond's 50th gets a 23rd film as celebration.  Unfortunately, it's not exactly Christmas.  I wanted to love Skyfall and have been waiting an age for it's release.  Between the restoration of old traditions and the long, lingering camera shots of watches and sunglasses there's something missing.  Bond's tale of self discovery and resurrection is, at times, painfully slow, always threatening to explode but not quite letting off the fireworks.  Having said that the reinvention of Craig's Bond is now complete and the series is aimed at the future whilst aiming maximum respect at it's past.

Skyfall is a celebration of all that has gone before and nods it's head and homages in ways more subtle and nuanced than the fateful 40th anniversary abomination Die Another Day.  From Craig's novel use of a Komodo Dragon to ape Moore through to the signature gun that would make Dalton jealous, Skyfall treads a familiar path within the Bond canon.

Skyfall is a tale of revenge and salvation yet this time it isn't Bond out for revenge set largely against a backdrop of London which makes the capital look glorious in this Olympic year.  Despite the obligatory globe hopping this is a very, very British Bond film.

We begin in Turkey and Bond stumbles across the loss of a laptop hard drive.  A hard drive full to popping with the list of secret agents undercover in terrorist cells.  All very Mission Impossible.  Accompanied by Eve, Bond is off on a slow burning car chase before ending up on a train.  Yes, another incarnation is about to take a turn for the worse on a train.  It seems that Bond will never learn.

Dead again

M's loyalty to the mission sees Eve put in an impossible position but she takes the shot and, not for the first time, an obituary is typed up for Commander James Bond.  Bond's descent into the watery depths begins a credit sequence that is probably the best in the franchise's history.  Adele's inevitable theme hovers above a hall of mirrors that would have made Scaramanga blush.

Bond's death and the loss of the list of agents is soon lost under a pile of bureaucracy as we are introduced to Mallory: Ralph Fiennes' implausibly trousered Whitehall enforcer.  Skyfall begins to open out, it's not going to be a run of the mill Bond film.  This time it's an M film.  In the face of enforced retirement M watches as her world is blown up around her.  Again Millbank is exploded and you wonder if the Tate avoided the shrapnel.  Thankfully, The Clampers are absent this time.  M and MI6 are being personally targeted by a cyber terrorist who obviously watched Jurassic Park.

The dust settling by the Thames is reported by CNN to a fully alive James Bond who has been contemplating life and apparent betrayal whilst playing stinging drinking games by the beach.  In desperate need of a shave Bond bombs back to Blighty and makes himself comfortable in George Smiley's front room (now resident to M.)  Bond's resurrection is hampered by standard procedure which has set about erasing him from history.  All seemingly very easy to do to an orphan with no next of kin.  Will the tearful restauranteurs and underemployed tailors of Bean's Goldeneye tirade really be all that's left?

M puts Bond back to work, but first he has to prove himself and we see the gruelling rebuilding of the secret agent in the gym.  Something that was painfully missing from Bruce Wayne's resurrection in The Dark Knight Rises.  Bond is put back on field duty and dispatched to Shanghai to find his old train companion.  Before he goes he has an appointment with The Doctor, sorry, the new Q.  I miss Desmond now more than ever.

Hunting Replicants and a massive jellyfish

This is where we see Bond for what he really is.  He's not a spy, he's a government hard man getting his hands dirty so politicians don't have to.  This is best seen in the airport as Bond's crap disguise leads him to follow his target up a skyscraper.  Shanghai has been ripped from the celluloid of Bladerunner as Bond stalks the shadows and reflections of an assassination.  The constant neon jellyfish haunting a fight in a glassy prison.  It's surprising Coca Cola didn't insist on their own little chunk of product placement.

The assassin's cryptic payment is a casino chip and we're off to Macao.  Skyfall has been drawn off a palette saturated with colour and the neon noir of Shangai juxtaposes with the seedy vibrancy of Macao almost perfectly.  No Lazar this time but a very seductive Severine.  She looks like a villain but you know deep down that she can't be as she's not ginger even if she does have very, very, pointy nails.

Camp blonde hair and an awesome island shirt

Through Severine we finally meet our villain.  It's been a slow slow-burner so far but now things are looking up.  The villain has his own island! Hurrah!  The spirit of Blofeld rejoice!  Not as impressive as a hollowed out volcano but still, it's a fucking island.

Out-camping the combined efforts of Mr Wind and Mr Kidd Javier Bardem's Silva or Rodriguez arrives via a lift to get all touchy feely with 007.  Silva has the hump with M for seemingly selling him out for being too good at his job.  It's a little hard to swallow such an Hispanic former MI6 agent after the diet of Dalton's Gibraltar, Brosnan and Bean et al.  Silva is captured and taken back to London and it's all a bit too easy.  Enshrined like Heath Ledger playing Hannibal Lecter, Silva finally reveals what M did to him and the perils of a cyanide capsule.  I don't know if cyanide has a best before date but judging by Silva's dental work and Blofeld-esque droop I think it might have.

The film has been building now for a while and we're beginning to feel like we're ready for an explosive finale.  In fact, we're beginning to need one.  Will Silva escape and Bond pursue him to a tropical demise?  No, Q's uber geekiness pops the plastic chamber and Bond lays a trap in Scotland after a suspiciously tame rush hour on the District Line and Silva's grasping assassination attempt in Westminster.

Scotland.

Scotland.  Forgive me for being underwhelmed but I've been brought up on mushroom shaped islands in the Far East and buried satellite dishes in Cuba.  Instead we're about to get a back story for Bond and a very sad ending.  At least the DB5 is back, the ejector seat still intact.  Up on the moors is a lonely old house.  A house called Skyfall.  Bond's ancestral home and lurking in the shadows (inexplicably) is Albert Finney with a shotgun.  Silva is being lured to Skyfall and Bond sets about drawing on his memories of seeing Home Alone to even up the playing field.

Our creaking finale is punctuated by dancing on ice and nail bombs before an attempt at salvation.  Mortally wounded and abandoned M is cradled by Silva who has gone full blown Joker and wants them both to die at an attempt at 'freedom.'  A death last reserved for Rosamund Pike paves the way for a tragic goodbye to Judi Dench.

Cradling M in his arms, Bond cries as he says goodbye to his replacement mother.  The affection he shows for his boss is on a par with Bond's (deliberately tearless) goodbye to Tracy and you feel that maybe he is now irretrievably broken.  All goes dark before we see Bond gazing out over the London skyline, isolated against the landmarks of the country he defends.  Bond is joined by Eve before the most obvious twist in a long time.  The running joke that Eve may be more suited to a desk job is cemented as she is formally introduced.  Perched behind her Sony Vaio it's difficult to see Moneypenny hot desking.  Instead she is the guardian of the man behind those leather cushioned doors.  Having proven himself to Bond earlier as more than just another bureaucrat Mallory assumes the initial and tosses a dossier towards Bond.  Top secret and for 007, now that he's shaken off his case of Brosnan's Shoulder, a new mission.

The reboot is complete and all the true Bondian elements have been restored.  So now, perhaps, we shake off the shackles of Jason Bourne and have a little fun?

James Bond will return and I think I want Quantum to return too.

Hopefully this time the gun barrel will be AT THE BEGINNING.

Bond, Greek mythology and Madonna. Best not mixed.

Forty years and now twenty films and this one does it's best to kill the Bond franchise like clubbing a baby seal.  Die Another Day is Bond20 and apparently an homage to all the Bond films that have come before it.  Is Die Another Day, like Icarus, punished for it's ambition?  No.  In reality, Die Another Day is a horror show, an elongated car commercial with awful CGI and a script so clunky Brosnan almost chokes on the words.  You can't blame this all on hubris.  The director, Lee Tamahori, was well known for making commercials so was obviously right at home with $100 million worth of product placement (he has another 'George Michael' type claim to fame now).  Spotting the references to the previous Bond films is the most entertaining thing you can do and still watch Die Another Day, such is the appalling nature of the dialogue and set pieces.

Although the film drove Bond and Brosnan into a cul de sac that there was seemingly no escape from, perversely Die Another Day made an absolute fortune at the box office.  Even Roger Moore had a pop at it saying 'it just went too far'.  This really did feel like the end of Bond especially as The Bourne Identity had been released six months prior.  Maybe that's a bit harsh as Die Another Day only really falls apart when Bond gets back from Cuba.

If I curl my lip a bit they'll KNOW I'm angry

The Bond films are at their best when they have an impressive villain, see Red Grant, Goldfinger, Scaramanga, Blofeld, unfortunately, Rupert Graves is a poor mans' Stromberg equipped with some electricity.  It's when Graves becomes central to the 'plot' that Die Another Day crumbles.  It looks as though a Bond film was too big for Toby Stephens and his acting range seems to be a change in the severity of his sneer.

Die Another Day opens with a surfing skit in what is apparently North Korea.  Can you even surf in North Korea?  At least we've got a level of self awareness as there is no sign of The Beach Boys breaching the soundtrack.  Standard operating procedure resumes as Brosnan steals some sunglasses with a cheeky smile before he goes and blows some stuff up.  The twist comes after Bond drops a model hovercraft over a waterfall and delivers a half baked one liner.  He's captured and imprisoned, the story continuing over the opening credits and beneath Madonna's lame, schizoid theme tune.  Marvel at Bond's waterboarding and Kleinman's CGI fire and ice ladies.  Keep them in mind as they're the best special effects you're going to see in this film.

I'm going to hold my gut in til Ravi Shankar gets here

In between scorpion stings and beatings Bond becomes George Harrison before being traded by the Americans for the terrorist Zao.  Zao now has a shiny and probably very expensive face after the pre credits run in with Bond.  Things look promising as Michael Madsen makes his appearance.  Don't get too carried away though, Madsen agreed to do Celebrity Big Brother after all.  After Bond's return to Western hands he's informed by M that he's a liability.  A washed up excuse for an agent.  Brosnan admirably sucks his stomach in before escaping from the high tech hospital before taking a little swim to what is supposed to be Hong Kong.  This is all a ruse so Bond can have a shave before going renegade again.  Brosnan's playing the Dalton card in seek of revenge against the person who set him up in Korea or something.  It's hard to pay attention as Halle Berry's Jinx appears Andress like from

Figs. Better than Bond in bed

the sea.  This is the only homage to previous Bond films that actually works.  It's subtle compared to Graves' parachute and the scene with the new Q that just shouts 'OCTOPUSSY', 'FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE' at you.  Three minutes of hard flirting and Bond has got Jinx into bed although he seems to be losing his touch as she stops mid-coitus for a fruity snack.

A run around Scaramaga's updated funhouse is peppered with choreographed fights that would put Michael Flatley out of business and we work out that Jinx has to be CIA at least before she jumps in an atrocious CGI stunt from the top of the complex.  Bond is left behind with some diamonds that bring him back to London accompanied by The Clash.  Quite how Joe Strummer was convinced to let this happen is beyond me.  He must be spinning as British Airways have done it all over again recently.  Graves is introduced and you begin to wonder what exactly he has to do with Zao and the Koreans from earlier.  You don't wonder for too long as you are distracted by his appalling characterisation which is only overshadowed by his stealing of Blofeld's satellite idea.  What's more impressive is the scale of his Icelandic affair.  The Ice Palace is the biggest thing Bond has had to run around in since The Spy Who Loved Me.

Bond fannies around Iceland in a few scenes which are only set so that Miranda Frost (Rosamund Pike) can show off her body and kill time before the inevitable car chase.  Bond's 'Vanish' (I know) vs Zao's horrifically green Jaguar convertible.  Inexplicably Zao's Jag is armed to the teeth and the ice based chase looks like it was nicked from The Fast and the Furious.  Zao is dispatched in improbable circumstances yet all I can see in my mind's eye are computer generated ice bergs and Pierce Brosnan ageing before my eyes.

Brosnan; ageing and turning into McCartney

With Zao gone it's time for the removal of Graves.  By now we know that Graves isn't actually Graves and his father is none too pleased about what he's done with his face.  Graves does his Iron Man impression and removes his father from the equation.  The end of Goldfinger is rehashed and extended as Bond and Jinx battle Graves and Frost before Graves has a chance to destroy South Korea.  Graves is reduced to bird soup melange before a ridiculous escape by Bond and Jinx as the film draws to a close,  Forty years of legacy has been pissed on as the Brosnan era comes to an end.  Die Another Day creaks under the weight of an atrocious script, music video tricks and around twenty companies worth of priduct placement. I can't even be bothered to look at the laboured allusions to Madonna's character being a lesbian or the invisible car such is how cheap the shots are.

It's hard to see how Bond can recover from Die Another Day.  Although the last time there was such a ridiculous Bond film the producers came back with a serious effort in the form of For Your Eyes Only.  Die Another Day is undoubtedly Brosnan's Moonraker and he's contracted for one more.  Brosnan will officially stay as Bond until 2005 with Tarantino sniffing around to cast him in a black and white Casino Royale.  It won't happen though. All the promise of GoldenEye now seems such a long time ago as Brosnan's fall from grace is complete.

James Bond will return, this time he'll be blond and look a bit like Jason Bourne.

Roger, Pepper And Three Nipples

Two films in sees Roger Moore settling into his role as Bond and the franchise is slowly removing itself from it's own history.  Moore's debut was a blaxploitation flick. The Man With The Golden Gun is a kung fu jolly.  Enter The Dragon this is not. It's as if the producers saw David Niven in Casino Royale, thought it was a good idea and then went zeitgeist shopping.  Playing Bond for laughs is not a good look.  Eight films ago we had the tension and suspense of Crab Key, now we have Thailand and bad white wine.


The Man With The Golden Gun is a film that could have delivered so much more but all the promise is lost under the sound of a penny whistle.  The whole thing is as crooked as M's office on the part submerged Queen Elizabeth.  

Only one thing could improve this stunt.....a comedy sound effect!

We begin with Dracula playing a game of cat and mouse with a gangster from Diamonds Are Forever in a fun house in the Far East. Yes, it's as daft as it sounds. Dracula, now reincarnated as trick shot making Fransisco Scaramanga is said to be the world's best assassin and charges $1 million a job. Dr Evil would be proud. He even has a midget as a butler/companion. The 70s were so ridiculously un-PC.  The pre credit sequence ends with Scaramanga shooting the fingers off a wax work of 007. Such attention to detail of your supposed foe borders on fetish.  To stop us dwelling on these thoughts we have Lulu caterwauling the worst Bond theme so far.  Presumably Don Black had been watching Carry On films as lyrical inspiration.

Lulu's theme sets the tone for the film as we now see Bond abandon wit and charm in favour of smut.  M summons Bond to his office and confronts him with a golden bullet with 007 etched on it. Apparently Bond is now a target for Scaramanga. The background is rife with mumbles of an energy crisis and a missing scientist who has a Solex device that will create free energy and yet Bond is dispatched to Beirut where an encounter with a stripper is his first clue on the hunt for Scaramanga. I say 'stripper' with a shudder.  Her (only) charm is the golden bullet she keeps as a memento of one of Bond's colleagues. In tawdry fashion Bond recovers the bullet and returns to Q whose analysis identifies the bullet's manufacturer. This screams the question 'why not use the bullet sent to M, why go to Beirut at all?'  Q snootily and rather brilliantly identifies Lazar as the bullet's maker and Bond is off for a snoop around Macao as he gets a step closer to Scaramanga.  The missing link is Octopussy Andrea Anders. Anders is Scaramanga's resentful bit of stuff and is the real sender of the bullet to M.  Later we find out that she wants to be rid of Scaramanga and wants Bond to facilitate this.  In the meantime she's just a courier.

The story begins to come together as we see missing solar scientist Gibson get his outside a strip club. Scaramanga, it seems, is quite a good shot.  Scaramanga has been hired by the Chinese businessman Hai Fat to remove Gibson and keep the Solex agitator off the market.  Handily Hai Fat is believed to have never clapped eyes on Scaramanga by Bond. Quite how this logic works is beyond me. If I was splashing out a million I'd want to meet the bloke doing my dirty work.  The twisted logic allows Bond to attempt to impersonate Scaramanga in a meeting with Hai Fat. He just needs Q Branch to rustle him up a fake third nipple. Don't ask.

It turns out that Hai Fat has, in fact, met Scaramanga and is positively in cahoots with him. This results in Bond's disguise being rumbled. Hai Fat decides the best form of execution is to send Bond to a martial arts school and let him get roughed up by some kids. We scan the background the hidden lasers, poisoned darts, anything to no avail. Hai Fat seriously thinks a bit of kung fu will do the job.  The pathetic nature of this scheme is compounded by Bond's escape. He jumps out of a window and into a boat. The marine based chase echoes Live And Let Die right up to it's inclusion of Sherriff J W Pepper. Oh yes, he's back.  Is it just a cameo? Is it balls.

More realistic than the flying car

Bond tumbles into Anders again and agrees to lose Scaramanga in exchange for the Solex agitator.  Unfortunately, this leads to Miss Anders death and Britt Ekland's incompetence as her character, Mary Goodnight, gets locked in Scaramanga's boot.  Cue car chase. Oh, great. Pepper's back and this time he's going to be Bond's comedy sidekick.  Your heart rises and then crashes as Bond corkscrews over the river with THAT sound effect.  It's all a waste as Scaramanga flies away in his car. Yes, he flies away.



Wherever could Scaramanga have escaped too? Have no fear, Goodnight had a tracking device about her person. Naturally Bond homes in on this signal and follows it to the film's conclusion.  Scaramanga's private island has been converted into a solar power generator and he wants to sell the technology to the highest bidder. Oil companies will buy it to keep it off the market whilst governments will want it to provide free energy for their countries. Apparently.  Not content with completely renewable energy the solar technology also comes with a massive laser gun as a bonus.  Before he cashes in on the Solex he decides to challenge Bond to a duel.

The original premise that Scaramanga was Bond's criminal opposite and equal is used as The Man With The Golden Gun's conclusion.  Bond emerges victorious from this tension with a bit of speed dressing in the dark. Bond has to suffer a spot of dry ice and some more Goodnight incompetence en route to his escape back to normality.  The journey home is interrupted by an appalling fight with a midget and an excessive waste of wine before Bond can use Goodnight's name in vain.

It's telling that The Man With The Golden Gun is the lowest grossing film of the franchise and it's easy to see why. It rivals Moonraker in terms of appalling-ness and cements the 70s as Bond's lost decade.  You begin to wonder how much better Tom Mankiewicz's script was and how much strife was really caused off camera.  The film has it's good points and they all belong to Christopher Lee. Lee is great as the villain and you wish that Fleming had remembered to recommend him for the role of Dr No. His weapon of choice is also more than memorable.  A gun in several innocent parts. The next time you're in an office and fiddling with your pen and cufflinks you'll wish they were golden.

I want one, you know you do too

James Bond will return as Roger Moore attempts to better Connery's Jacques Cousteau impression.

Live and Let Roger Moore

1973. Bond finally turns his back on Scotland and Sean Connery and says 'hello' to Roger Moore.

Keep it down Roger

The signs are good, despite a lack of Q. Moore is English and thanks to Simon Templar and The Persuaders, reasonably popular. From these roles it's clear Moore will bring a fresh approach to the Bond series. Moore is so very English and this juxtaposes strangely with Live And Let Die.  How would it have looked if Clint Eastwood had have taken the job?

Bond is going very 'pop culture' with this instalment and, although it's happened with every film, it's a bit jarring.

Live And Let Die is Richard Roundtree away from being a full blown blaxploitation picture with Moore sticking out like a stiff upper lip.  Having said that, Moore's debut is also his best effort as Bond.  Bond began to take a worrying change of direction in Diamonds Are Forever and Live And Let Die sees this change accelerate. It was lighthearted, played for laughs, tongue in cheek. A million miles from the splendour of From Russia With Love. Was this change a result of Moore's casting or was Moore cast to fit in with the new aesthetic?  It's not fair to say Live And Let Die was just a big screen version of The Saint but that's how Moore plays it. We're dangerously close to a Bond film that will simply be all fast cars and fast women with a choreographed punch up at the end before the villain is carted off to prison.

The book of Live And Let Die tells the story of Bond's pursuit of Mr Big who has been smuggling retrieved Caribbean treasure to sell on the black market to fund his Moscow paymasters. The story of Bond hunting doubloons in New York is a little dated so now we have Mr Big as a heroin dealer. Drug dealing. Not exactly espionage but Bond is drafted due to the demise of several Brits previously involved with Mr Big.  Most of the book ends up in License to Kill but some elements remain. The main element from the book retained by the film is voodoo. Live And Let Die drowns in it's lighthearted play with voodoo as Mr Big's mystique is stripped away and turned into hokum.  This is particularly apparent when Bond manipulates Tarot cards to get Solitaire into bed.  Mr Big is essentially using voodoo superstition to protect his poppy plantations. Plantations which provide two tons of heroin for him to give out free. This 'junkie welfare' will create many more addicts, drive the (hinted at Mafia) out of business and leave Mr Big peerless. It's not a satellite armed with lasers or stolen nuclear missiles but it sounds like an effective plan.

Bond shuttles around Harlem and the Caribbean before ending up in Louisiana, trapped on an crocodile farm. Bond has gone from the cigar chomping fop of earlier hang gliding scenes to a resourceful and adaptable hero in the space of one scene. The crocodiles snap closer to Bond before he makes his escape in the best stunt of the film. The best because it is understated and the result of a tense build up.

Unfortunately, all this hard work is undone moments later in a waterborne chase. Sheriff J W Pepper is ingrained into your soul during the speedboat scenes which seem to last forever. Pepper is drafted in for comic relief. The trouble is that we don't need relieving.

The never ending boat chase brings us toward the film's conclusion; Mr Big's final burst towards Bond and the rescue of Solitaire. But we're not quite over. There's still just enough time to recall From Russia With Love in a train sequence which ties up all the loose ends.

This is Moore's best Bond as it's not too silly. There is an up in the count of one liners and the eyebrow is just under control but despite this Moore can still put a little steel into his Bond. His treatment of Rosie is up there with Connery's Bond at it's misogynist worst.  The trouble is Moore peaks too soon. This isn't the first time we'll see this happen but it's no less disappointing.

Live And Let Die was nominated for an Oscar. Before you get too excited, it was for McCartney's title song.  He's been dining out on that song for years now.

McCartney, at every bloody gig, EVER.

James Bond (and Q) will return, but then, so will J W Pepper.  Politicians speak of the economic collapse causing a lost decade. Bond is on the brink of his own lost decade.

They say you should never go back

The Seventies are here and so is James Bond's seventh big screen outing.

The good news (thanks to the studio, United Artists) is that Sean Connery has come back. It only cost a then record $1.25 million some of which was used for charity. Mr Kidd and Mr Wint are good too and Shirley's back on theme tune duties. That's. About. It.

Diamonds are Forever is horrifically camp which probably explains why Adam West was considered for the role and the storyline is peppered with just plain stupid elements.

To begin with Connery is unseen as he pursues old enemy Blofeld across the globe. Obviously still upset at Blofeld's murder of his wife, Bond is very determined popping up in Japan and Cairo amongst other places before a rather plump and sweaty Mr Connery locates Blofeld and his attempt to use mud to make himself a plastic surgeoned double. It looks like the years since Connery last picked up a Walther PPK have been good to him and have taken the edge of his ability to deliver a decently pithy one liner and he now keeps a mousetrap in his pocket.

Sean Connery because he's not as camp as the other guy

Echoes of Goldfinger see a diamond smuggling scheme take centre stage early on. Several links of the smuggling chain are dispatched in entertaining ways from South Africa to Amsterdam. So far, so good but then the action shifts to Las Vegas. Gaudy and kitsch Vegas is home to elements that will plague the Bond series for much of the next decade. Tiffany Case and Plenty O'Toole are the early incarnations of Bond girls having daft names for the sake of it in an attempt at a euphemism. See also later, Dr Goodhead, Chu Mi and Jenny Fleck.  Don't even start on Bambi and Thumper. Just be glad Sgt J W Pepper hasn't reared his ugly head just yet.  In fact Las Vegas' image of all style and no substance is soaked into Diamonds Are Forever.

Whilst in Las Vegas Bond attempts to get to grips with the smuggling supply line by playing craps and taking in casino shows. His efforts culminate in a laboratory infiltration and posing as the greatly named Klaus Hergersheimer. When rumbled Bond escapes in a moon buggy. A moon buggy. Despite this Roger Moore still accepted the role. Following the moon buggy incident is the world's worst car chase. Twenty miles per hour around a car park.  Someone, somewhere thought this was a good idea.

 Worst escape vehicle ever

Before long Bond gets to the crux of the matter, only to find it's Charles Gray's Blofeld. Yes, Charles Gray, The Narrator who last had a knife stuck in his back in You Only Live Twice (his leg has also grown back). The crafty bastard now seemingly shed of his S.P.E.C.T.R.E is bent on using the smuggled diamonds in a laser toting satellite. As weapons go it's a bit crap. It's intense beam of diamond enhanced light makes things go red and wobble.  Needless to say Washington DC is on it's hitlist unless Blofeld gets his big bag of swag. Even Dr Evil wouldn't be this lame....

Bond pitches up at Blofeld's oil rig base in a zorbing ball. Blofeld is no longer worthy of a volcano lair and Bond is happy to roll around in inflated polythene rather than a sexy speed boat. Blofeld is defeated rather predictably and Bond gets to go cruising with Tiffany Case and dispatch Mr Wint and Mr Kidd with some brandy and a cheap thrill.

It's dispiriting that the best part of Diamonds Are Forever is Bond's conversation with a rat.

'One of us smells like a tart's handkerchief..............I'm afraid it's me. Sorry about that old boy.'

 I am NEVER doing this again. Never. Never.

Diamonds Are Forever makes me feel uncomfortable. Our ruthless yet charming spy is being reduced to a stunt man smuggling cheap innuendo. It's as if Carry On Spying went viral. The only hope is that the next incumbent of the role will bring a fresh start. Hope can be cruel sometimes. Diamonds Are Forever proves the old adage that you should never go back.

James Bond will return and this time he'll be ginger.