It was an impulse buy, they were by the till and I was overcome with pleasant childhood memories. The Kinder Egg made it's way into my hand and with a bleep and an exchange of hard currency became mine. An ovoid of plastic textured chocolate wrapped in bright tin foil but with the promise of a surprise. A cheeky little toy hidden inside. Would it be a little alien? Or a miniature car with cogs and gears for me to assemble?
No. It was a jigsaw puzzle. A fucking jigsaw puzzle. Twenty pieces of printed cardboard crammed into a plastic shell before being inserted into the familiar orange and white wrapping.
I've been cheated. A jigsaw puzzle for Waybaloo watchers. I yearned for a minature gladiator that would get dwarfed by a Lego minifig. Yeah it'd be shit and would get lost or destroyed within a week but that's not the point. The jigsaw robbed me of opportunity to build a little car that would go round in circles for a few seconds. The jigsaw went straight in the recycling bin. Germanic Italian bastards.
So what did I do the next day?
Yeah, I bought another one. Well, another two. Expectations were high again and this time repaid tenfold!
No need for IKEA instructions with this one
I got a little cat with it's own parachute AND a remedial spirograph. Yeah, a cat which is attached to a vinylette parachute. It doesn't float that well and serves no real purpose but it's there, it's fun and the cheeky little critter can nestle softly on a spirographed helipad. It'll keep me amused for a few minutes.
There's no such thing as bad publicity apparently. I'm not sure I agree with that but bloated self publicist Donald Trump definitely does.
This week's latest Twitter outrage (yes, I'm guilty of jumping on it as well) sees Donald attacking the President of the United States of America. He alludes to patriotism and some sort of cover up but the fact is that Trump is a racist. A nasty bigot, who, thanks to his vast personal wealth has means to spray his opinion around the world like a nasty norovirus bomb.
Trump had let the Presidential debates pass by before chipping his two cents into the election arena. Drip feeding the media with promises of a major 'announcement'. He obviously thought he was the Iron Man 3 trailer.
Turns out his 'announcement' was basically a threat, a lame attempt at emotional extortion as he demands to see Obama's college applications and other records in exchange for a charitable donation of $5 million. Just donate the cash Trump, it's the only way you'll come away from this with some dignity.
Is Trump really stupid enough to not realise that the US media has turned Obama's past inside out looking for something to make him less than American. He was vetted by his party, he made it to Government, he's been President for four years.
Trump's rant coupled with the remarks of another bonkers Republican Senate candidate about rape should make this a good day for the Democrats.
Trump has done this for the attention. To get a reaction to feed his ego. I hope that reaction is the ridicule he warrants.
I was once asked to describe what Quantum of Solace is about in a
tweet. 140 characters isn't enough. 140 words wouldn't be enough.
This is the quantum mechanics of the Bond franchise. Compared to the Bond by numbers of the Brosnan era and the brutality of Casino Royale, Quantum of Solace is confusing. But not that confusing. You won't need Professor Brian Cox to do a DVD commentary.
Quantum of Solace is Daniel Craig's tricky second album.
OK, it's a film and not an album but you know what I mean. How to follow Casino Royale? Well, you don't have to follow it, you can continue from it.
'You shits! I've only had this car five minutes'
Quantum of Solace uniquely sees us picking up from where we left him at the end of Casino Royale. Although he does seem to have changed suits. Mr White is in the boot as Bond rally drives around a well placed quarry before arriving in Siena. This is a car chase that Roger Moore could only have dreamed of in The Spy Who Loved Me. Now I'm not quite sure what we're doing in Siena or even Tuscany but we'll go with it. In what can only be described as a sewer, MI6 set about interrogating Mr White to find out just who he is and who he works for. We'll soon find that the organisation he works for is Quantum, a 21st century S.P.E.C.T.R.E. but infinitely more insidious and shadowy. Quite literally, Quantum has people everywhere as displayed by a good old fashioned double agent. Our double agent, Mitchell, is pursued by Bond across rooftops and over vehicles before an ingenious sequence where the pair cling to scaffolding reminiscent of a Newton's Cradle. Bond prevails before we are launched into one of the more bizarre Bond themes.
An unlikely duet of Jack White and Alicia Keys belt out our theme song. It's clunky and unorthodox, a far cry from Dame Shirley but it kind of works. Once again we've got to the theme song and we haven't seen Craig do an opening gun barrel. The gun barrel is incorporated into the film's closing credits when Bond has finally gained closure from Vesper and is 'truly' James Bond.
The investigation into Mitchell's double agent status sees M get the hump over her judge of character and some unwanted Christmas presents. What's more pertinent are the dodgy banknotes he had floating around. Some fancy computer work takes Bond to Haiti and Dominic Greene. Bond bumps into Camille in an improbably shiny Ford Ka before we find out who Greene really is.
Greene is an environmentalist on the surface. We take a deep breath and hope this doesn't take us towards Die Another Day territory. It's OK though as we find that Greene is a member of Quantum and has some dodgy dealings with big chinned Bolivian General Medrano. Greene and Quantum have taken steps to restore the General to despotic power in Bolivia in exchange for a patch of desert. This is Bolivia so there must be some marching powder about? No, Medrano assumes Greene is after oil and laughingly lets him have the plot of land convinced it's worthless. In an act of revenge Greene gives Camille to the General and diverts his attention elsewhere. Cue some maritime fun. The opening car chase and now this boat chase are at breakneck speed, in fact, the whole film is. Quite a contrast to the slow building tension of Casino Royale.
Medrano isn't the only one that assumes Greene is after Bolivian oil as we see the CIA do a deal with him, much to the annoyance of Felix Leiter. A CIA director with a 'tache bigger than his brain tries to play hardball (that's what the Americans call it, yeah?) with Greene before striking a deal to turn a blind eye to Greene's plans in exchange for a drop of the black stuff. This all takes place mid air before Greene pops down to Austria to enjoy a spot of culture.
Bond gets his phone mixed up with Snake's Codec
Our night at the opera is a glorious sequence. Bond actually does a bit of spying before acquiring a goody bag in the gents. This goody bag means he can listen in on and identify many of Quantum's members as Tosca rages on stage. He hasn't cracked the scheme yet but he sets about putting some names to faces. This is quite an achievement as most of the faces look like stills from Metal Gear Solid. Let's hope Bond doesn't turn out to be a genetic experiment or bump into Revolver Ocelot. Bond's extraction from the meeting he has gatecrashed is problematic and ends up with the death of a member of Special Branch. Bond doesn't actually kill him but still ends up having his privileges revoked. Bond has gone renegade. Again.
Bond needs to get to La Paz but doesn't have a passport or any cash. He also doesn't have any allies at hand so turns to Rene Mathis. The last time we saw Mathis he was being tasered and carried away for 'debriefing' having been identified as a crony of Le Chiffre. It appears he's actually innocent. Bond appeals to Mathis' warrior instinct and ropes him into a trip to Bolivia via a swanky aeroplane bar and several (6) Vesper martinis. Mathis is a walking pharmacy but Bond sticks to gin and a twist.
Upon landing in La Paz we encounter Agent Strawberry Fields (groan). The delicious Gemma Arterton is connecting Craig's Bond to his predecessors, especially Connery. The chemistry between Craig and Arterton is great. It's a shame she doesn't last too long.
The reintroduction of Camille comes before a final farewell to Mathis and the uncovering of Greene's real plan. Bond is identified as a threat to Greene and dear old Dominic uses his General in high places to frame Bond. This time for the apparent murder of Mathis. The final scenes with Bond and Mathis are touching as Bond realises that to be a spy he has to be alone and will, ultimately, have to sacrifice himself. Mathis' unceremonious disposal by Bond sees Bond put his armour back on. He won't allow others to get too close again.
With Camille in tow we head to the air again to take in a survey of the land Greene has acquired. Handily, Camille is Bolivian Secret Service and has some orienteering skills. Our sky bound jaunt is shortlived as Bond is shot down and has an almost Moonraker-esque parachute moment before crashing into a cave. The true extent of Greene's scheme is revealed as the local water supply has been dammed off. Greene fooled everyone into thinking he was after oil when, in reality, he plans to hold the country to ransom over utilities. Eon and nPower better be kept an eye on.
I'm glad I'm not cleaning those sheets
Bond returns to La Paz to find M in his hotel room. Now we know that whenever M goes into the field something bad happens and true to form we find that Agent Fields has been killed. Greene has had Agent Fields killed in an oily homage to Goldfinger. We've shed the 60's sensibility that saw a strategic cushion protect Shirley Eaton's modesty and are shown Arterton's full curvy death. M orders Bond arrested and is concerned he is fuelled only by revenge. All too easily Bond escapes but not before adding a touch of class by insisting Agent Fields' is recognised for her bravery.
Quantum of Solace has negotiated itself into a cul de sac before the timely reappearance of Felix Leiter. It's Leiter's information that leads us to the film's conclusion. In the middle of nowhere Greene is meeting General Medrano to dot the 'is' and cross the 'ts' on his reclamation of power. Naturally the meeting takes place in a hotel. Not an ordinary hotel but a hotel powered by hydrogen. Yep, liquid hydrogen. Even Scaramanga would've steered clear of that. Greene reveals just how screwed Medrano is before our old fashioned Bondian climax. Plenty of explosions, broken glass and axes don't divert from Camille exacting her revenge whilst Bond extracts the information he needs from Greene.
Greene is abandoned in the desert by Bond. Both men know he will die in the desert, either by his own hands or by Quantum's as they assume he's told Bond everything. Bond tosses Greene a can of oil in bitter memory of Agent Fields. It would appear Greene did spill some of Quantum's beans as Bond travels to Russia and confronts Vesper's 'boyfriend' Yusef. Yusef is apparently on Quantum's payroll and uses his charms to extract secrets from well placed ladies. This time she's Canadian. Bond shows restraint by letting M arrest Yusef. M softens and officially gives Bond his job back. We all know that he never left. By dropping Vesper's necklace in the snow we see Bond gain closure. This chapter of his life is over.
Overall Quantum of Solace doesn't quite live up to Casino Royale. That's not to say it's a bad film, it's just it's not very 'Bond'. The reboot has evolved and it's straying a little far from the apple tree for my liking. We've had Bond's love story and his tragic revenge but now Bond needs his Aston Martin back and he needs to have a flirt with Moneypenny. The rumours are that these elements will return and we already know Q gets a new face for Bond 23. And it's not before time.
James Bond will return in Skyfall. And I can't bloody wait. That gun barrel better be at the start as well.
From the ridiculous to the sublime. After the debacle of Die Another Day came a substantial wait for new Bond film with a new Bond. And there was so much scepticism when Daniel Craig was cast. I remember seeing him bouncing down the Thames in a dinghy and a lifejacket. Shaking my head at his blue eyes and blond hair, still we knew that realistically Brosnan couldn't carry on. We also knew deep down that Bond had to change and it was the beginning of another new franchise that kickstarted the reboot. That's a bit harsh. It wasn't just The Bourne Identity that required Bond to have a radical rethink. The early 21st Century saw changes. 9/11 was a game changer in the action movie arena so much so that The Bourne Identity was given a different ending after a test screening. There was a new reluctance to simply fill films full of exaggerated explosions whilst having to reconcile a new face of evil. The Bond franchise had been struggling since the 80s to replace the Russki or communist threat and so we'd had yuppies and drug barons as main villains. Now terrorism is the new vogue for a villain.
One of the most surprising things is that the writers of Die Another Day were given the chance to adapt Fleming's first novel. They pulled it off. Casino Royale is excellent because it is so different to what came before. From the black and white Sin City stylised pre credit sequence to the fact that Daniel Craig isn't truly James Bond until he delivers the film's last line we can see that everything has been shaken up. The appalling CGI has largely been abandoned, gadgets are relegated and Bond has to make do with what he's got, and to begin with, that's not a lot. That's not to say that Casino Royale alienates it's predecessors. Sure, there's no Moneypenny, there's no Q but we're given a SPECTRE for the 21st century, represented by Mr White. We're dropped off in Miami, harking back to Connery's glory days in Goldfinger and all the while we see a rough and ready newbie James Bond develop and become the double 'O' agent we all know.
After getting his required statistics to become a double 'O' Bond is sent to Madagascar to find a terrorist. Meanwhile, Le Chiffre, is being introduced and he's a bit of a gambler with a penchant for shorting stocks. What ties this together is he's guaranteeing the stock price's crash by using the bombmaker being chased by Bond.
Good job it's not a Blackberry
Bond is a blunt tool at the moment. He has his target and will go through anything to get to it. Bond's lack of subtlety and finesse is perfectly shown by his Hulk smash through plasterboard as the free running bombmaker bounces away like a gazelle. Bond eventually gets his man and makes a right mess of an embassy before revealing that he's quite nifty with a smartphone and a laptop. On the strength of a cryptic text message Bond hops off to the Bahamas. It's actually believable and real, unlike some of Roger's leaps of faith.
The Bahamas are what you'd imagine except they seem to be exclusively populated by Ford cars. Getting hold of an Aston Martin looks like a fool's errand. But Bond has found his next 'slimy bugger' to track and sets about kicking his arse at poker acquiring, not only, said Aston Martin, the bad guy's missus but a couple of bars of Monty Norman's Bond theme as well. A gentle nod that the Bond jigsaw is being put together. Bond is still lacking finesse as his idea of foreplay is basically an interrogation of Dimitrios' missus. By luck it works and Bond is off to Miami to save a massive jumbo jet from being messed up by Le Chiffre's scheme.
Look, I'm creepy and I can count, so don't mess
Bond is shown as a smirking killer who likes running, lots of running, as Le Chiffre's plan fails to go up in a petrol driven mess. Even Connery wasn't shown as this much of a bastard. The Miami police and airport security really aren't very bright as they happily shoot away at a petrol tanker whilst Bond displays some handy driving skills. The Number shows his maths skills by working out exactly how much money he has lost ($101,260,000). Never fear, he's got a plan B. The eponymous Casino Royale will be home to a $100 million poker game which Le Chiffre reckons he has a good chance of winning although it just so happens that Bond is the best player around. So, our villain is a compulsive gambling asthmatic who leaks blood. Not exactly Mr Big. In fact, Le Chiffre is a bit rubbish. So who is the real baddie?
Best worry about that later as despite a new Bond we have the same old mistakes. Bond gets on a train. AGAIN. This time he gets away with it as there aren't any freaks hiding in the wardrobe, just an introduction to Vesper Lynd. She's 'the money', 'every penny of it' and sets about starting some glorious word sparring with Bond. The flirting and one upmanship is hundreds of times better than Roger smarming over Triple X. Lynd's barbs result in Craig's Bond making a series of unusual faces, the best one makes him look like he's been startled whilst passing solids. So, now we have also done away with the traditional Bond girl that had been so caricatured by Jinx and have something entirely new. Lynd is an integral part of the story, essential to Bond's progress and is closer to Lady Macbeth than we're probably comfortable with.
More use than Mathis
Lynd and Bond meet Mathis who serves as nothing but an infodump at various points in the film. Until his apparent betrayal Mathis is largely irrelevant and only serves to tell silly Americans how poker works. Imagine if the producers had stuck to Bond tradition and had him playing Baccarat. Mathis would probably have had to talk directly to the camera like Garth in Wayne's World. The poker game rumbles on and is punctuated by some scenes that are quite violent for a Bond film. The film's pacing is corrected by Bond's tumble down the stairwell in a fight scene that is pure Bourne and yet after this we see Bond at his most compassionate and vulnerable. The shower scene with Lynd isn't what you'd expect but now we have an emotionally vulnerable Bond and he's falling in love.
Now Bond is angry and this leads to him making mistakes. The security is lax enough in the hotel but Bond is oblivious to the fact that he's about to be poisoned. Rohypnol must be rife in this hotel. Our rebooted Bond show's a resourcefulness that would make Moore's head spin as he grabs a salt shaker. It's only when he staggers back to his car for a conference call and a defibrillator that things get a tiny bit silly.
Angry, but not Rain Man
With the help of a very quiet Felix Leiter Bond defeats Le Chiffre and then things get a little confusing. In the roll of a car, Le Chiffre is taken by the CIA, but not, Lynd is 'kidnapped', Mathis becomes a traitor and Bond is tied to a chair. Out of nowhere the story has exploded and it won't be until the end that we'll be able to put the debris together properly.
The torture of Bond is probably the most graphic that a Bond film has ever been. The violence and claustrophobia perfectly balanced by Bond's ball scratching quip. It's a bleak situation before deus ex machina in the form of Mr White. He's back and we still don't know who he is.
Bond is whisked away for hospitalisation and some r and r. I'm still not entirely sure what Lynd was expecting him to be capable of with his bashed up meat and two veg, but I suppose they're in love. Now we know from previous experience that Bond isn't allowed to fall in love and so it transpires. Another doublecross and a well placed text message sees Lynd expire and Bond come back to the fold. His half hearted escape from MI6 comes to an end in Venice and praise be to God that there's no sign of that fucking pigeon. The Venice sequence presents us with a few questions that niggle long after the film. If you're going to be a double agent like Vesper surely you'd put a password lock on your phone? Or if you're that guilty about it all let a few things slip to the bloke sleeping next to you or maybe he was to involved with that Sony Vaio? Who are 'the Organisation'? Oh, and who the bloody Hell was the bloke with the eyepatch?
Apparently Daniel Craig got the role of Bond due largely to his turn in Layer Cake. If this is true than the end of Casino Royale is a cheeky homage to this. Standing over Mr White on the hotel steps Craig delivers his first 'Bond, James Bond' line and now we see him truly become Bond and the full theme kicks in.
Now he's Bond and he's a fucker with a mobile
James Bond will not return. He will continue in Quantum of Solace and hopefully the title song will be a bit better.
Throughout history Man has always stared at the night skies and watched the stars. Before I was born a man became the first to actually touch another world.
Usually deaths of celebrities and the famous don't really register with me. You mourn the loss of talent and remember the bodies of work of comedians, musicians, actors and the like but it's an intangible thing. You never knew them so have little real reason to grieve other than empathy and compassion.
To me this situation has changed with the passing of Neil Armstrong. Not because I knew him or had any personal connection but because of the idea of him, the ideas and sheer goodness of mankind that he represented. The Moon landings were the culmination of the 1960s' Space Race. Of course it was a political and military driven stunt but it still remains the most glorious achievement of Man. In his short life he stepped on another world and touched the stars.
When Eagle touched down on the Moon and Armstrong first stepped on lunar soil it was the culmination of unbridled ambition and determination. It showed what we, as a species, could truly be capable of. JFK promised a man on the Moon by the end of his decade and despite him not seeing it his promise was realised. What could happen now if Obama promised to cure cancer within ten years with the same amount of drive and ambition? There are many serious problems here on Earth; climate change, overpopulation and dwindling resources, who's to say that the solutions for these can't be found 'out there'? It's been forty years since Man last set foot on the Moon and now we make do with buggies and robots sometimes landing on Mars. We should reach further, push ourselves to discover. Perhaps putting a man on Mars or even back on the Moon will help us solve some of our Earthly problems.
Armstrong passing makes us all feel our mortality. Whether he liked it or not, he was a hero for people all over the world, an inspiration for all the children of the 60s and afterwards. Do you really think that no one who saw the Moon landings in fuzzy black and white didn't come away wanting to change the world? Armstrong seems to me as an unassuming man who worked hard for his country and despite all the craziness concentrated on what he knew; aviation and engineering. He began working for the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics (NACA), a pre NASA body, in the 1950s. The 1950s when half the world was recovering from World War Two and Armstrong is looking to Space.
It's hard to comprehend that in 1962 he was given astronaut status and four years later commanded Gemini 8 as it nearly disastrously docked with a glorified missile in Space. Three years after that, in 1969, and he's on the Moon looking down on all of us.
I've read and heard the stories and memories of bleary eyed kids being sat in front on tiny TVs to watch Armstrong's moment of history unfold. I'll admit it. I'm jealous. I might have another 50 years left and I know that I'll never witness anything that will come close to that. The Twin Towers or the Lost finale don't compare.
It was 50/50 whether or not Apollo 11 would actually succeed and see it's Eagle module touch down and we should all be glad it did. Whilst the promise of the Moon landings has largely evaporated over the last forty years they still stand as testament to what Mankind is capable of, especially the 'a white-socks, pocket-protector, nerdy engineer' that Armstrong saw himself as. It proves that we should all look to future, avoid the short term and dare to chase our dreams.
The next time I see the Moon I will 'think of Neil and give him a wink' like the Armstrong family suggests.
Unlucky thirteen for Roger as Octopussy sees all the good work done by For Your Eyes Only wiped out by an ineffectual baddie and a dodgy Tarzan impression. Still, you can't make an omelette without breaking a few Faberge eggs.
For Your Eyes Only was a stripped back reboot of the Bond franchise made necessary by the outlandish Moonraker. Octopussy sees a return to slapstick and nonsense, it's complete reversal only avoided by Jaws and that fucking pigeon being absent. The circus involved is more than just a setting. At the heart of Octopussy is a reasonably good story, a renegade Russian general wants to storm Europe with the aid of a nuclear accident. Unfortunately, the story is a Christmas tree and the writers and producers just kept adding tacky baubles and bits of tinsel.
Octopussy doesn't actually start of all that bad. Disregarding the pre credit sequence which really is a load of Toro the film proper begins with 009. Oh, yes, another '00'. He doesn't get to do much as he's dispensed with the Ferrero Rocher and ruined the ambassador's patio doors before a cunning deployment of a Faberge egg. A fake Faberge egg as we soon find out. The fake egg seems to be of more concern to M and (bloody Hell, yet again) the Minister of Defence, than 009's demise so Bond is sent to Sotheby's to find out what's going on. Meanwhile General Orlov is having a right ding dong with General Gogol. He only wins as he seems to be in charge of a revolving table. A Pyrrhic victory as his comrades basically tell him to shut up. Watching Steven Berkoff sulk is brilliant.
I will defeat Bond with smarm
Back at Sotheby's Bond deploys some poor sleight of hand and raises his eyebrows higher than the auction bids. The auction is eventually won by mysterious Afghan Kamal Khan. Naturally this is Bond's cue for a plane ride. Destination India this time. We now see Khan in his natural habitat. A massive nod to Goldfinger sees Khan fleece a Fawlty Towers-esque major at the backgammon table. Bond intervenes and takes a ridiculous pile of cash of Khan. Trousering enough bank notes to make Zimbabwe's inflation rate look minuscule Bond annoys Khan's henchman and goes on a tuk-tuk ride downtown. Now it's time for a random chase following in the footsteps of The Spy Who Loved Me and Moonraker. Villains are everywhere and pour out of the crowd to chase Bond across hot coals and a bed of nails. It's all very tiresome, especially when they needn't have bothered. To get anything out of Moore's 70s/80s Bond all you have to do is appeal to Little Roger. Khan's interestingly accented associate Magda has a turn between the sheets and recovers Khan's treasure before falling off the balcony. The only intriguing part of Magda is her tattoo. Her tattoo loses all mystery when we later hear of the women-only island.
Things are getting muddled. We now have a bonkers Russian general passing on jewels to Khan to forge who then uses Octopussy to smuggle them around. Octopussy has a squad of fearless fighting women but owns a circus. She's got the hump with James Bond. But how does any of this help Orlov make his tank divisions go east to west? What's the point of Octopussy other than to get Bond and Andrea Anders in the same room again? And who the bloody Hell is Rita Coolidge?
Octopussy is a mess of a film wrapped up in a game of 'That's not Roger' as myriad stunt doubles hurtle around the jungle and hold onto planes. Real Roger pops up ebery now and then to tell a tiger to 'sit' (I know) or bugger up the planting of a listening device. Khan smarms his way through scenes rather than offering any menace and Q is unleashed into the Subcontinent only to hold on to a native ally as he expires and fly a hot air balloon. None of it makes any sense or makes you care about anything. You could see why Moore really wanted to call it a day before the cameras rolled.
Somehow we establish that Orlov has planted a nuclear bomb in
Octopussy's circus and is in the process of double crossing Khan and
Octopussy by running off with the valuables. For a bloke Hell bent on
world domination he is very involved in petty theft. The Western
world's hopes lie with Bond, so what does he do? He gets on a train.
No good can come of this and, true enough, a fight with a spot welding
twin kicks off. At least Bond got out of the gorilla suit. By now
Orlov is dead, his character completely redundant and yet his bomb still
counts down. Berkoff was completely wasted as Orlov was relegated to
the sidelines. The film would have benefited from him taking over from
Khan as the main villain of the piece.
What do you mean this bomb has no Waldorfs?
I'm serious
Anyway, about that bomb. It's in the big top of course but Bond is
stuck outside a phonebox in a stereotypical German town. Bratwurst
flies as he steals a car and makes his way to the US Air Force base
where the circus is performing. Whilst being hunted by base security
Bond manages to apply perfect clown make up and head inside. Not a smudge of the chalk face as Roger heads towards the base
commander. The base commander has relented on his search for a Waldorf
salad and is lapping up the circus shenanigans. You can almost see the
bomb timer counting down as eventually Bond convinces people he's not
part of the circus. With predictable ease the bomb is disarmed with
seconds to go. Europe is saved!
How Roger's clown make up should have looked
Alas, a debrief on the biggest crisis since Cuba has to wait as Bond and Octopussy return to India for a dust up with Khan. Invoking the same light aircraft which featured at the beginning of Moonraker Bond is up over the mountains. This whole sequence only serves as a dry run for the end of The Living Daylights as Khan gets his comeuppance leaving Bond to convalesce on board Octopussy's private yacht.
Apart from the fact that Octopussy is a turgid lump in the Bond canon it's notable for one reason. It was produced at the same time as, and went up against, Never Say Never Again and the return of Connery. It's good that Octopussy pulled in more dollars than Never... and hopefully now that MGM have the rights to Never... we'll never see it again.
Octopussy jumped up and down on For Your Eyes Only's goodwill and was a step too far for dear old Roger. It should have been an omen that most of the crew had Delhi belly on location. There's one more to come from Roger. Hopefully he'll go out with a bang rather than a whimper.
James Bond will return and this time he'll be accompanied by another Avenger.
After the over the top and frankly horrendous Moonraker Bond is returned to his roots. This is almost a reboot as Bond is stripped bare and we have a film actually driven by plot rather than stunts and gadgets. For Your Eyes Only is a reinvention, we have new music for the gun barrel and Roger seems to be buying into it. He doesn't look as tired and disinterested as in Moonraker. The next Bond reboot, Casino Royale, bears a few similiarities to For Your Eyes Only, both are stories of double cross with hints of revenge. However, For Your Eyes Only doesn't start too well.
Sheena the Gozerian
Bond visits Tracy, the only reference made to Mrs Bond during Roger's reign, before being interrupted by a soon to be remote controlled helicopter. It seems Blofeld is back, crippled and soon to be dead once and for all (or not Kevin McClory). Moore's Bond has never faced Blofeld before and this is a timely, if a little flippant, nod to past glories. As Blofeld falls away to nothing the warble of Sheena Easton takes over. The most notable thing about Easton's involvement is her boat race plastered all over the opening titles.
Back to the film proper and we soon find we have an understated, almost subtle Cold War thriller on our hands. Secrets and Russians abound as we have a naval ship, the St Georges, disguised as a trawler doing a bit of actual spying. There are no killer freighters hungry for the Royal Navy but an almost humble World War Two mine to provide Great Britain with problems.
This is where we need M, not the bleeding Minister Of Defence. A mark of respect to the late Bernard Lee but a memo would have been better than Fredrick Gray. The extent of Gray's conversation seems to be 'Hmmmm'. It's like his prostate is falring up. Thank God for good ol' General Gogol. It's Gogol who lets us know what the Navy were looking after, an ATAC which turns out to be some kind of nuclear submarine walkie talkie. Quite an important bit of kit and now the Russkis are after it. Cue Bond.
Or not. We're off to the Greek Islands first where some posh bit with too much hair is going home to daddy. It doesn't end well and a long and lazy close up let's us know she's out for revenge. But will she bleach her upper lip first? Now it comes together as Bond is tasked with finding a Cuban hitman, shame it's in that bloody Lotus. It seems the daddy of posh bit (Melina) was a British agent. This doesn't explain the quite bizarre difference in accents. Anyway, Bond goes off to find Tony Montana.
There's a Viagra joke in here somewhere
Cunningly dressed as a middle aged man trying to recreate his youth Bond bumps into Melina and her crossbow and loses the Lotus. YES! This is the first time we've seen Moore's Bond have to think on his feet as in between umbrellas and a very resilient Citroen 2CV he escapes some goons. A quick lecture for Melina on the perils of vengeance before Bond is headed back off to Blighty.
Seeing that Q pretty much invented LCD TV amongst other things it's a bit odd he still uses a Charles Babbage original. Despite this, the interplay between Bond and Q this time around is up there with the best and helps Bond identify a bloke from a Tron storyboard as a bad guy. Target acquired. And he's Belgian.
Sporting some more dubious leisurewear Bond encounters Ferrara (reprised as Casino Royale's Mathis?) and Kristatos. Now I don't trust Kristatos. Anyone spending that much time watching teenage ice skaters is a bit dodgy. Even if he is sponsoring her. And he's got a Russian bird in his employ. Alarm bells should ring loud but Bond is happy to make friends and let Kristatos lay the blame with Colombo. Thank God Bond didn't make friends with Bibi. Perhaps Roger put his foot down over the age difference. Despite later thinking that Bond is from the British Narcotics Board(?) Kristatos sells Bond his story.
Colombo is 'The Dove', a semi legit businessman who munches pistachios and doesn't have a trenchcoat. The chase for Colombo is manipulated by Kristatos via a biathlon and a needless turn in ice hockey gear before a very awkward dinner with ex Mrs Brosnan. There was nowhere near enough soft focus and vaseline going on to make her attractive and how she thinks that's a Liverpudlian accent is beyond me. Our newly promoted director John Glen again reaches back to On Her Majesty's Secret Service as Mrs Brosnan is dispatched rather brutally on the beach. We've already seen a cosy ride in the snow, a ski chase and a bobsleigh. Nice to reference your first Bond film every now and then.
My wings may be a shield of steel but they're no match for Topol's hair
Bond is kidnapped and dragged before a very Drago like Colombo. It's now that the Fiddler on the Roof
tells Bond the truth. Bond really is getting gullible in his old age,
he's buying stories of any Topol, Kristatos and Harry. Dr Hans Zarkov
proves that he is a good guy by taking Bond on a jolly to a drugs
factory in Albania. It seems that Kristatos is, indeed, a KGB'd up bad
guy. Especially when he appears to have a stash of mines like the one
that blew up the St Georges. It's amazing what Topol can do with some
nutshells, his improbable hair and a penchant for dressing like a bin
man. He makes Neville Southall look dapper.
Coveted by Bond villains everywhere
The tension (remember that?) builds underwater as Bond goes after the elusive ATAC only to find the bastard Kristatos waiting for him on the surface, it's only dispelled as Moore talks to himself while cutting the ATAC free like a pensioner trying to get a Sky+ box to work. Don't worry, the bad guys still have their obligatory yellow submarine. A spot of keel-hauling from the novel of Live And Let Die and a chat with a parrot leads Bond to cracking Kristatos plan. Yes, that said 'parrot'. Just be grateful the fucking pigeon hasn't come back. The tension is ramped up some more as Bond ascends to a remote monastery as Kristatos prepares for victory. A sequence which Sylvester Stallone managed to turn into an entire film.
For Your Eyes Only sees Bond as gritty and realistic. Devoid of gadgets Bond becomes the cold killer that we've been missing for ten years. This is best shown as he says goodbye to the Belgian Lucque with a kick and an acceptable quip. Bond is proven to be resourceful as the ATAC is lost to both sides. Detente indeed.
Not only has Bond saved the western world but he's had a good go at rescuing United Artists too. After their humbling with Heaven's Gate and Kris Kristofferson For Your Eyes Only provided some much needed box office dollar. Despite this United Artists was swallowed up by MGM and Bond will be represented by a roaring lion from now on. For Your Eyes Only shows that Bond can be realistic and successful. Just don't mention Maggie Thatcher. Hopefully the producers will keep this in mind for the next film. Oh, wait, Octopussy's up next.
James Bond will return but he'll be doing an impression of Dr Dolittle.
