Moonraker (1979)

Director: Lewis Gilbert

Cast: Roger Moore, Lois Chiles, Michael Lonsdale, Richard Kiel

Have I Seen It Before: Yes. Yes, I have. Must I say more?

I just checked with the proprietor of the site and yes, apparently, I must say more.

I must have first seen it during a TBS marathon of the films, which I dutifully recorded on VHS, and clearly didn’t think much of it even back in the far-flung 90s because my strongest recollection of the film is that I labeled that VHS tape (I think I used an LP tape) along with License to Kill (1989) “Moonwaker.” Thirty years later, I still think that’s a better title. All of eleven years old, and I’ve already got notes for improvements.

Did I Like It: Where to begin? Let’s start with the positive. Almost none of the Bond films have missed the mark with their pre-title sequence. And the skydiving duel between Bond (Moore, looking as if he’s just about ready to check out of the role, despite the fact that he’s going to do three more) and Jaws (Kiel, more on him later) is about as good as any of Moore’s openings.

Now that we have that out of the way. Bond is in space. Space. Spaaace. Fleming would rise from the grave and have a heart attack all over again. And the only reason Bond becomes Britain’s first man in space, is because Star Wars – Episode IV: A New Hope (1977) and Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977)* made huge money and there are moments where Cubby Broccoli had all the creativity of a mimicking parrot.

Some might applaud the visuals during the film’s inexplicable third act, but aside from Ken Adam’s always delightful set design, all this film can offer is a barely warmed over riff on Star Wars. That film was a symphony of sounds that still dominates genre filmmaking, but the laser fire on display here is one step removed from someone dubbing in “Pew!” sounds.

And then there’s Jaws. One of the most menacing villains in the movies not only finds love (I’m not opposed to it) but it turns him into an ally because… well, the film has to have some kind of an ending, right?

The rest of the film is a humdrum Bond adventure, painted by largely by numbers. Where it isn’t baffling bad, it’s content to be middle-quality. I might be more mad about that than anything else.

But you want to know what really struck me on this viewing? I look at the sight of a megalomaniacal industrialist in love with rockets and space travel, bedraggled by what he sees as humanity’s twilight, which will only lead him to be the MC for the apocalypse. And then I start watching the movie. It’s not possible that old what’s his name saw this movie as a child and decided that was all he ever wanted to be… Right? It could be, though. What have we done?

*Urban legend insists that Spielberg himself campaigned hard to direct this one, only to get nowhere with EON. Could you imagine? They’d have reined him in and it would have been just as much of a disaster, but he might have been spared the indignity of 1941 (1979).

You Only Live Twice (1967)

Director: Lewis Gilbert

Cast: Sean Connery, Akiko Wakabayashi, Mie Hama, Tetsurō Tamba

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure.

Did I Like It: And yet, beyond <Dr. No (1962)>, <From Russia with Love (1963)>, and <Goldfinger (1964)>, I make a suspicious habit of not keeping Connery’s other three (official, and unofficial, for that matter) outings as Bond on regular rotation.

People might complain about Connery’s performance in the role, as he felt like he was at the end of his time in the role (he skipped out on On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969)), but I don’t see it. There’s something so singular about Connery in the role that even while Daniel Craig unassailably did more with the role than anyone else, I still picture Connery (even with his series of weird hairpieces) in the role before anyone else.

The plot is fine—it’s no sin for a Bond film to feel just a wee bit interminable, I love them, but the vast majority of they are a slog in the middle—and there’s scarcely better casting for a Bond villain in general (and Ernst Stavro Blofeld, specifically) than Donald Pleasance. It’s an exotic travelogue, the theme song (from Nancy Sinatra) was an absolute banger, even before Mad Men made it the stinger of their greatest season.

Is there anything else one needs from a Bond film? I’m racking my brain as I type this to quantify why this is one of the also-ran Bond films. It shouldn’t be. It’s just weird enough (and, for that matter, just early enough in the saga) that it doesn’t fall into the occasional problem Bond films have where some entries so, desperately want to be Goldfinger (1964) in every measurable way.

I guess that means You Only Live Twice is actually one of the all-time greats… That’s the thing I’m realizing as I watch some of these for these reviews: some of the entries I have spent this whole time discounting have been my favorite this whole time.

The Spy Who Loved Me (1977)

Director: Lewis Gilbert

Cast: Roger Moore, Barbara Bach, Richard Kiel, Curd Jürgens

Have I Seen It Before?: Yes.

Did I like it?: I’ve been reading Nobody Does It Better: The Complete Uncensored, Unauthorized Oral History of James Bond lately, thus increasing my craving for a bit of that old EON touch. I could have gone for one of the films I’ve watched a number of times like From Russia With Love (1963) or even one I’ve already reviewed like Goldeneye (1995), but I thought I’d take a deep dive into the most universally loved of Roger Moore’s entries, instead.

I’ve never been a big fan of Moore in the role. He shed too many of the trappings originally associated with the character as created by Ian Fleming. In fact, of all his entries, I’m most fond of A View To A Kill (1985), Moore’s last entry which most fans and even the actor himself view as unusually dour and violent (read: more Flemingian… Flemish?). Which figures.

But something about taking in this movie this time worked better than I thought it might. Sure, the rear-screen projection used during the ski sequence forever solidifies that Moore was never actually doing anything real during the entire time he was 007, but the opening sequence is still thrilling and the turn that Russian Agent XXX is actually Anya Amasova and not the bland (dare one say, Lazenby-ish) dude she’s sleeping with is a surprise far ahead of its time.

There are no sheriffs, no spaceships, and Bond doesn’t once dress up as a goddamned clown. What’s more, I learned today, when cinematographer Claude Renoir could not properly light some of the larger Ken Adam sets due to his deteriorating eyesight, EON brought in none other than Stanley Kubrick to pinch hit. Which is just astonishing when you think about it. Sure, as happens with almost every Bond film I’m pretty bored by the third act (yes, the villain wants to wipe out society with nuclear weapons to build something new) but when one focuses purely on Moore’s intent with the role and not what a viewer like myself would want out of it, nobody does it better.

I’m not proud of that last line, but it feels like St. Roger might appreciate it from the great beyond.