Bullz-Eye continues its look back at every James Bond film, 007 One by One, as part of our James Bond Fan Hub that we’ve created to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the first Bond film.
You’ve seen “Skyfall,” now how about taking a look at the other best James Bond movie you’ve never seen?
Ask a hardcore Bond aficionado what his favorite 007 entry is, and there’s a very good chance the answer will be “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service.”
We don’t necessarily want to make bold claims as to what the best Bond movie is, as it differs from person to person, but “Majesty’s” should be Top Five material for any die-hard fan of the franchise. The film is littered with all kinds of “firsts” and “onlys” — both in front of and behind the camera — but the most obvious is of course its lead, George Lazenby, and it’s with Lazenby that, for better or worse, most talk of the film begins (but should by no means end).
In the year 2013, we take for granted the changing of the lead actor within the Bond series, as we’ve now had a half a dozen different 007s, but back in the late sixties there was only one James Bond, and his name was Sean Connery. During the production of “You Only Live Twice,” Connery decided to exit the franchise that made him a household name (though as we now know today, he’d return to the character not once, but twice), however, quite understandably, the producers of the series weren’t finished telling their stories, and the public seemed far from tired of 007’s adventures.
So there was really only one option and that was to recast. The search was extensive, but in the end Bond producers decided on a complete unknown – Lazenby – a model with virtually zero acting experience. Regardless, Albert Broccoli was certain he could transform the man into his new James Bond.
The debate has raged for over 40 years as to whether or not the recasting was successful, with many schools of thought on the matter. Having viewed “Majesty’s” numerous times, we feel confident in saying that it’s a shame Lazenby didn’t give it at least one more go in the part (the decision to not return was, amazingly, his own), because as it stands, he cannot help but be somewhat swallowed up by the richness of his surroundings. One thing is for certain: Lazenby in no way ruins it, or keeps “Majesty’s” from being the best film it can be. “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service” is a fine, fine movie, and one that deserves to stand on its own, away from the greater picture of the whole franchise, and Lazenby – as any lead would be – is at least partly responsible for its artistic success.
The Plot: “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service” relies heavily on Ian Fleming’s original text, the last Bond film to really do so until 2006’s “Casino Royale.” The story is two in one: the first is about Bond’s hunting for and eventual finding of Ernst Stavro Blofeld, and the second is about Bond falling in love and getting married (yes, you read that right) to an initially suicidal young woman named Tracy. Her father, Draco, runs a crime syndicate, and has info about Blofeld’s whereabouts, which James requires. Turns out Blofeld is posing as a high-profile allergist in Switzerland. Bond tracks him there, and infiltrates his organization by posing as a genealogist. Once the jig is up, all hell breaks loose, and Bond finds himself on the run, and only one person can help him…
The Girls: Blofeld’s mountaintop Swiss hideaway, Piz Gloria, stockpiles quite the cache of babe-alicious flesh – including a very young Joanna Lumley (“Absolutely Fabulous”) as well as the lovely Catherine Schell (“The Return of the Pink Panther”). Odd then that James zeroes in on the homeliest looking one of the bunch, Ruby Bartlett (Angela Scoular). But then again, this is also that unique Bond flick wherein James falls in love, and perhaps going for runt of the litter was the only way for him to rationalize cheating on his beloved Tracy.
Bullz-Eye is celebrating the 50th anniversary of the first James Bond film with look back at every Bond movie, 007 One by One, along with a series of features about the Bond franchise, all laid out in our James Bond Fan Hub.
As the worldwide spy craze peaks, the James Bond series settles in for the long, tongue-in-cheek haul with this often maligned but very enjoyable entry, introducing the world to both ninjas and the original Dr. Evil. It also might have been the final appearance of Sean Connery as 007, except that it wasn’t.
“You Only Live Twice” (1967)
A United States space capsule is hijacked, killing one astronaut. Naturally, the Americans assume the Soviets are at fault and world war seems a real possibility. There’s only one thing for the level-headed English to do: Stage James Bond’s death and send him on an undercover mission to Japan to expose SPECTRE head Ernst Stavro Blofeld’s plot to dominate the world by partially destroying it.
With enormous success comes enormous pressures and change was very definitely in the air as “You Only Live Twice” began production. Now one of the world’s most bankable stars after the mega-success of “Thunderball,” Sean Connery was contractually on board for only one more film and starting to be seriously fed up with all the 007 insanity.
Behind the camera, original Bond director Terrence Young had had his fill and “Goldfinger” helmer Guy Hamilton was unavailable. Editor and second unit director Peter Hunt, who had been instrumental in the series’ creative success, badly wanted to helm the project, but producers Albert “Cubby” Broccoli and Harry Saltzman apparently weren’t ready for a first timer for Bond #5. Therefore, a new recruit was sought out to join the small fraternity of James Bond directors.
An old hand at period pieces and war films, Lewis Gilbert was hot off an Oscar nomination for a classic-to-be about a compulsive womanizer who could give Bond a run for his money. “Alfie” starred Connery’s good friend, fellow movie spy, and now award-winning box office rival, Michael Caine.
Lewis Gilbert also brought along one of the very few directors of photography who could have reasonably stepped into the very big shoes of series regular Ted Moore. Freddie Young had won the first of his four Oscars a couple of years prior for David Lean’s visually stunning 1963 70mm masterpiece, “Lawrence of Arabia.” For the sake of keeping things consistent, all the other key collaborators, were back on board in their regular roles, i.e., composer John Barry, credit designer Maurice Binder, and production designer Ken Adam. For once, they’d all have a nice budget to play with, too.
The script, however, was an issue. The novel “You Only Live Twice,” was the last Bond book published in Ian Fleming’s lifetime and the story was problematic for more than one reason. For starters, it was actually the third and final installment in what literary Bond fans call “the Blofeld Trilogy.” EON’s original intent had been to film the books in their original order. That way Blofeld, who had been teased as a character starting in “Dr. No,” would get his long-delayed onscreen introduction in “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service” and finally suffer James Bond’s revenge in the follow-up, “You Only Live Twice.” Unfortunately, logistics made the ski chalet setting of “Majesty” impractical for the summer release EON and United Artists had their hearts set on.
The other problem was that the plot of Ian Fleming’s novel, which involved Blofeld setting up a lavish sanitarium for wealthy suicides, just didn’t seem to be the stuff of a James Bond movie. It also ended with Bond fathering a child with Kissy Suzuki. Only a few elements from the book would remain in the finished movie, most notably the Japanese setting, love interest Kissy, and friendly spy boss Tiger Tanaka.
There was also a problem with finding a writer. Richard Maibum, who had worked on every Bond up to this point, was deemed unavailable. A rumored screenplay by renowned author Kingsley Amis had been reportedly dismissed. Another script was commissioned by writer Harold Jack Bloom, but little of his work would remain in the finished film.
The final choice of screenwriter turned out to be an interesting one. Decades after his death, Roald Dahl remains one of the world’s most popular children’s writers with such film-friendly classics as “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,” “Fantastic Mr. Fox,” “The Witches,” “Matilda,” and “James and the Giant Peach” all too his credit. He might have seemed a far likelier choice for writing an adaptation of Ian Fleming’s children’s book, “Chitty Chitty Bang-Bang,” the gig that was apparently keeping Richard Maibum busy. Nevertheless, Dahl had written his share of adult thrillers and had actually performed wartime espionage and been friends with Fleming. Scads of 007-inspired spy spoofs were upping the humor ante and this would be a somewhat more tongue-in-cheek Bond. Dahl’s dark sense of humor would be a plus.
The main thrust of the film’s new plot was apparently invented by Cubby Broccoli, however. Upon seeing a dormant volcano while scouting locations, he came up with the idea of using it as a giant villain’s lair. With the U.S.-Soviet space race at full swing, the Russian-Chinese split a topical news item, and terrorism on the rise, the idea of SPECTRE hijacking spacecrafts in order to start a world war on behalf of Red Chinese clients seemed like a natural.
The Bond Girls (Rule of 3 + 1)
Once again, 007 does the espionage nasty with three beautiful women on his Japan adventure. Shockingly, however, the movie’s main love interest is not one of them.
Ling (Tsai Chow) — This lovely lady of Hong Kong engages in mildly racist pillow talk with Bond and then reveals herself to be an accomplice in the spy’s elaborately faked death. Though her part is small, actress Tsai Chow was already a recording artists and a major star of the London stage in “South Pacific” and “The World of Suzie Wong.” Her very long film career would include parts in “The Joy Luck Club,” “Memoirs of a Geisha,” and the 2006 Bond reboot, “Casino Royale.”
Helga Brandt (Karen Dor) — The latest Bond villainess with preying mantis-like tendencies, the dangerous Ms. Brandt is the secretary/in-house assassin of the wealthy SPECTRE operative, Mr. Osato. She has her way with Bond, then fails at killing him. It’s only natural that she winds up a victim of SPECTRE’s signature approach to personnel management, which in her case means being fed to the CEO’s pet piranhas. Actress Karen Dor has enjoyed a very long career in German films and television that continues to this day. She also appeared in Alfred Hitchcock’s unsuccessful spy thriller, “Topaz,” and the modestly titled horror flick, “The Torture Chamber of Dr. Sadism.”
As we continue our celebration of everything 007 with our James Bond Fan Hub, it’s time to take a step into Q’s lab, and look at 007’s tools of trade.
In my mind, a spy is only as good as his full range of gear, and in honor of that I’m taking a looks at the Bond movies with the best collection of gadgets, and in the interest of perspective, the worst.
The Gadget Report:
While “From Russia With Love” was the first movie to really include Bond gadgets, it wouldn’t be until the classic “Goldfinger” where we saw the idea really take off. I’ve heard it remarked before, but it’s great how Connery’s Bond always sounded impressed with the gadgets he was given, as even in his line of work you didn’t see these things every day. What I really like is how many of the gadgets would set a trend for future films. This was Bond’s first watch, the first defining villain device, and of course the first (and maybe best) Bond car. Even with some clunkers like the rubber duck topped stealth wetsuit, like so many other things in “Goldfinger,” the quality of gadgets here would be a real trendsetter for films to come.
The Aston Martin DB5
Bulletproof Windows, Revolving License Plate, Forward Machine Guns, and Guaranteed First Date Sex
I Love How Completely Un-Phased Those Scientists Are
“YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE”
The Gadget Report:
Does a freaking awesome ninja army count as a gadget? No? Well James Bond’s strange trip to the far East is still loaded with high quality tech. You could definitely tell the series was starting to rely more and more on its prop department by this point as the ideas were getting more and more elaborate, yet still oddly appropriate for this world. My favorite part of this movie is all of the things that weren’t technically Bond gadgets but still awesome. Things like Bond’s contact’s personal subway system, the helicopter with the industrial magnet attached, or the quintessential villain lair in the hollowed out volcano all helped to make this one of the most memorable of the Bond movies.
Oh, and of course the actual Bond gadgets were awesome as well.
Rocket Launcher Cigarette
First One to Make a “Those Things Will Kill You” Joke Gets It
Attack Gyrocopter, A.K.A. “Little Nellie”
Yeah, well…Sean Connery Probably Thinks You Look Ridiculous
“LIVE AND LET DIE”
The Gadget Report:
Officially recognized by Wikipedia as the most gadget filled of all of the Bond movies, “Live and Let Die” was trying to make people forget that Roger Moore was the new Bond by loading it up with awesome gizmos. It almost works too as we are treated to the full gamut of devices that range from voodoo dolls, flutes that double as communicators, bug sweepers, robotic voodoo priests, enhanced mechanical prosthetic arms, flamethrowers, coffee makers (that surprisingly just make coffee), and the greatest Bond watch of all time, the Rolex Submariner with bullet deflecting magnet and saw watchface. The theme of the movie may have been black magic, but it’s the technology that steals the show.
The Rolex Submariner with Magnet
Once You Accept You’ll Never Own a Watch This Cool, Life Gets Surprisingly Easier
Critics and filmmakers may prefer “From Russia With Love” and “Goldfinger,” and many complain about those long underwater sequences but, to a lot of fans, Bond #4 remains the ultimate in spy action, intrigue, gadgets, and girls, girls, girls. It also remains the all-time box office record holder of all the Bonds. It’s also only the second, and so far final, Bond film to ever win an Oscar — for special effects of course.
Unperturbed by the 007-related deaths of Dr. No, Red Grant, Rosa Klebb, and countless other operatives, the amalgamated baddies of SPECTRE return with their most diabolical plot yet. The plan this time is nuclear blackmail, as SPECTRE Operative # 2 takes possession of two hydrogen bombs and informs England and the U.S. that they’ll either part with £100 million or kiss one or two of their favorite cities goodbye. Without any viable strategy other than complete capitulation, the only respectable option for the free world seems to be sending Bond to kill, copulate, and skin-dive his way to victory over nuclear terrorism.
With the series chugging along at the rate of roughly one movie a year and a worldwide spy craze underway, an observer might well have expected that the James Bond phenomenon had peaked with the blockbuster success of “Goldfinger.” Then again, a lot of people in 1965 were also figuring that those flash in the pan teen idols, the Beatles, had peaked with “I Wanna Hold Your Hand.”
The EON Production team led by producers Albert R. “Cubby” Broccoli and Harry Saltzman knew that their hot streak was still very much in play. They cannily chose to triple-down with a budget roughly three times higher than the already relatively high ($3 million!) “Goldfinger” budget and all-out marketing and cross-promotional blitz. As luck and skill would have it, the most eagerly anticipated Bond film would ultimately top the box-office success of “Goldfinger” by $20 million with a worldwide take of $141.2 million — not quite enough cash to satisfy a Bond villain, but getting there.
The amazing part is that the film was ever made at all, as the project had been plagued by legal difficulties for years. “Thunderball” began life as a screenplay that James Bond creator Ian Fleming developed with, among others, screenwriter Jack Whittingham and producer Kevin McClory. Fleming eventually tired of the complexities of getting a Bond movie on the screen and abandoned the project. He nevertheless used a great deal of the abortive script’s story in his 1961 novel of “Thunderball.”
Things got complicated when producers Albert R. “Cubby” Broccoli and Harry Saltzman entered the mix. Broccoli and Saltman’s EON team originally initially saw “Thunderball” as the best kick-off for the Bond series, even if its action would have to be scaled back considerably to fit their budget. A lawsuit brought by Kevin McClory nixed the idea, even though writer Richard Maibum had already completed a screenplay.
The suit was eventually settled out of court by an ailing Ian Fleming. With Fleming having passed on and an obvious cash cow of enormous magnitude before him, victorious rights holder McClory agreed to an EON-produced film of “Thunderball” on certain conditions, including that he be the sole credited producer.
With McClory on board, it was time to reassemble the Bond team. Though flush with success, “Goldfinger” director Guy Hamilton pleaded exhaustion. In his stead, original Bond director Terrence Young was induced to return for one final outing, while such key personnel as editor Peter Hunt, director of photography Ted Moore, production designer Ken Adam, stunt man/action choreographer Bob Simmons, and composer John Barry all happily returned. As per the writing MO on the early Bond films, the work of American screenwriter Richard Maibum was given a more English make-over by a Brit, TV scribe John Hopkins. To handle the considerable challenge of filming underwater, EON turned to nature film specialists Ivan Tors Productions, who had achieved great success filming aquatic material for television with their hit shows,”Sea Hunt” and “Flipper.”
As for the stars, while the pressures of true superstardom were starting to weigh on Sean Connery, he was still on board and not yet ready to kill the golden but increasingly painful goose that was Bondage. For his leading lady, EON passed on three actresses soon to become superstars — Raquel Welch, Julie Christie, and Faye Dunaway — before settling on their final choice. More about that below.
The Bond Girls (Rule of 3 + 2)
Bond keeps up his sexual batting average with his usual three trips to home plate in “Thunderball.” Oddly enough, while more than maintaining his rascally ways when it comes to women, he manages what appear to be purely professional relations with two of the film’s five “Bond girls.”
Madame LaPorte (Mitsuoaka): The part was uncredited, and we never find out much about the French operative who assists Bond’s revenge mission against Jacques Bouvar in the opening sequence. Even so, the subtly exotic Madame LaPorte definitely lends an air of intrigue to the opening adventure. The French-Eurasian actress, Mitsuoaka, born Maryse Guy, was a former stripper who seems to have spent a lot of the sixties riding the spy wave around Europe, having already appeared in such early sixties capers as “License to Kill” and “Agente 077 Missione Bloody Mary.” She passed on in 1995.
Paula Caplan (Martine Beswick): Bond’s gorgeous “island girl” assistant appears to be an entirely competent MI6 operative. Even though we’ve barely seen them even flirt, Bond is clearly upset when she meets an unpleasant but honorable end under the custody of SPECTRE — though not so upset that he can’t handily boff an attractive enemy operative. Very much a cult star in her own right, this marks either the second or third and final Bond-girl appearance for actress Martine Beswick. She had also played one of the feisty-but-affectionate Gypsy women in “From Russia with Love” and might have appeared as one the dancing silhouetttes in the “Dr. No” credit sequence.
Bullz-Eye is celebrating the 50th anniversary of the first James Bond film with look back at every Bond movie, 007 One by One, along with a series of features about the Bond franchise, all laid out in our James Bond Fan Hub.
Over the years James Bonds came and went. Directors and writers shifted and changed. Vocalists were routinely swapped out. Though not the only constant in the Bond franchise, Maurice Binder, as the primary designer of the instantly recognizable title sequence, was certainly one of the most noticeable ones. For the bulk of Bond’s first 27 years, Binder brought us a cavalcade of swirling colors and curvaceous ladies, typically set to the tune of a current pop sensation. His job was to help set the tone for the film to come by presenting elements and themes from the movie in an abstract, artistic fashion. For many, these title sequences became an important, even necessary part of the Bond movie-going experience, and remain so today, over 20 years after Binder’s passing. Here we take an entirely subjective look at his ongoing contributions to cinema’s longest-running movie franchise.
The first thing ever seen in a Bond movie is the opening gun barrel sequence, and no amount of praise can be too effusive for Maurice Binder’s creation of it. James Bond emerges in profile from the right, caught in the movie viewer’s cross hairs. He then spins around, shoots, and the gun sight fills with, presumably, the viewer’s blood.
It’s become part and parcel of the Bond films ever since, though only in “Dr. No” is it part of the title sequence proper; afterwards, it would be separated from the titles by the now also iconic pre-credits sequence. Coupled with the infamous Monty Norman-composed Bond theme song, the gun barrel sequence is that instantaneous moment when everyone simultaneously acknowledges they’re watching a Bond film.
After the gun barrel sequence, flashing colored lights set to the Bond theme reveal the title “Dr. No” as well as the cast, followed by the silhouettes of people dancing a sort of Jamaican mambo, and, finally, a calypso version of “Three Blind Mice” dovetails nicely into the movie itself. The “Dr. No” titles are a lot fun and unique in the Bond film series; the only real element of them that would come to feature heavily in the future is Binder’s inventive, energetic use of silhouette.
It’s anyone’s guess into what directions the Bond title sequences might’ve gone if Binder had helmed the titles for the “Dr. No” sequel. But he did not, and for the next two films – “From Russia with Love” and “Goldfinger” – the titles are designed by Robert Brownjohn. Both sequences march to the beat of different drum than Binder’s, and even though Brownjohn only ever did these two, his influence on what the Bond titles would ultimately evolve into on Binder’s watch cannot be discounted.
There’s an elegance and class that Brownjohn brings to the table that may or may not have progressed out of Binder as well, but for certain the one thing Brownjohn can be credited with is the fetishized exploitation of the female form, and both of his sequences are loaded with it; the curvaceous fairer figure is all but worshipped, and the dominant centerpiece of “From Russia with Love.”
Brownjohn’s other gimmick – projecting imagery over those lovely bodies – is strikingly used in both sequences. In the former, the credits are projected over the undulating female form, and in the latter, snippets of scenes from the movie itself. However, anything Brownjohn does with the “Goldfinger” sequence is very probably overshadowed by the sounds of Shirley Bassey, as this other imperative element – the pop song – finally drops into its place in the title sequence timeline. Bassey is the true star here, and her vocals remain some of the most iconic in film history.
With 1965’s “Thunderball,” Maurice Binder returned to his post in the franchise, and would remain with the series in this capacity for the next 24 years. Right here, right now . . . BAM! This is where all of the familiar elements finally congeal into the Bond title sequence we all know and love. Silhouettes of floating naked women mingle with silhouetted deep sea divers armed with harpoons. Water bubbles against myriad colors filling the screen. Tom Jones delivers bombastic accompaniment to the intense, widescreen visuals (also a first for the Bond series). This handful of disparate elements combine to create movie history, and our expectations for Bond would never be the same again.
Further, sometimes those silhouettes weren’t all that dark. Perhaps the one area where Binder figured he could outshine his temporary predecessor was to titillate the audience with brief flashes of visible boob and butt, and it worked, ahem, swimmingly.
Binder got even more creative on the next outing, by adding graphics and playing around with his silhouette technique by inverting it, as well as throwing filmed bits of flowing lava, erupting volcanoes, and sexy geisha ladies into the mix. Between the titles for “You Only Live Twice” and “Thunderball,” most of the tools in Binder’s creative box are on display, and he’d use various combinations of the pair in his work over the next 20 years and change. We’d also be remiss to not mention the theme tune sung by Nancy Sinatra, a hypnotic piece of work that’s stood the test of time.
Since “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service” was quite the mouthful, composer John Barry opted to create an instrumental piece for the titles, and it’s a rousing bit of work. Because this movie was, for the first time, introducing a new actor (George Lazenby) playing Bond, much of Binder’s work here consists of a montage of clips from the previous films, as the need was felt to stress to audiences that they were still following the adventures of the same man. The trip down memory lane aside, the graphics are borderline psychedelic, bursting with eye-popping color — wholly indicative of the film to come.
With “Diamonds Are Forever” the series moved into a new decade, yet the movie still had a foot in the Sixties, as is evidenced by the return of both Sean Connery and Shirley Bassey; the latter again dominates these proceedings. Binder grabs the iconography of diamonds and Blofeld’s cat to create the titles which brought an end to the Connery era.
When Roger Moore arrived on the scene in 1973’s “Live and Let Die,” the titles exploded around him, via the inevitable hiring of a Beatle (and his wife) to pen and perform the theme. Paul McCartney and Wings arguably delivered the most instantly perfect Bond theme since “Goldfinger,” which is vaguely ironic, since it was in “Goldfinger” that James Bond took a swipe at the Fab Four: “That’s as bad as listening to the Beatles without earmuffs!”
Here Binder deals in the nightmarish, voodoo aspects of the movie, including human skulls and crackling fire, all wrapped around women of color, some covered in tribal paint. An argument could be made that these titles are the “You Only Live Twice” titles on LSD. There can be no doubt that the franchise, and Binder’s work along with it, had firmly entered the 1970s.
The titles for “The Man with the Golden Gun” are a fairly paint by numbers affair, despite the complete and utter catchiness of Lulu’s theme song. Indeed, as a rule of thumb, if the song is the most memorable aspect of the Bond title sequence, then boundaries aren’t being sufficiently pushed, even within the limited confines of the format. That being said, the silhouette gettin’ down about two-thirds of the way through is a fine specimen of woman.
Harsh criticism can in no way be leveled at “The Spy Who Loved Me” titles, which showcase Binder at quite possibly the height of his creative powers. Simply put, everything comes together, in about an ideal a manner as possible. The imagery is slightly more abstract than the norm, mostly eschewing iconography from the movie, though sexy, athletic Russian ladies are a theme. Instead it seemingly invokes Bond’s relationship with women in general, achieved via the inclusion of Roger Moore, under the direction of Binder, as a part of the sequence. This was a first. It wasn’t movie footage, as had previously been done with “Goldfinger” and “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service” – this was specially shot, and given the film’s title, it was an appropriate creative call.
Then there’s that perfectly gorgeous theme tune, performed by Carly Simon, and written by Carole Bayer Sager and Marvin Hamlisch, that so effortlessly works hand in hand with Binder. “Nobody Does It Better,” indeed. The marriage of music and imagery here is the stuff the very best music videos are made of, and this compares to ballet. If we were stuck a desert island with only one Bond title sequence, it’d be this one.
It’d be easy at this point to claim it was all downhill for Binder’s Bond after ’77, but that would be to deny a huge chunk of his artistry. Just because he peaked with “Spy,” doesn’t mean there weren’t bursts of beauty afterwards. Sadly, “Moonraker” doesn’t really have one of those moments. Visually it feels like leftovers from “Spy,” but its biggest problem, which is no fault of Binder’s, is the return to the Shirley Bassey well for a third time, a decision that no longer works. She’s from a different era altogether, and out of step with the movie itself, which was thematically looking forward to the future via its sci-fi aspects.
Things get seriously back on track with 1981’s “For Your Eyes Only,” a sequence, which, like “Spy,” features a visual first: The inclusion of chanteuse Sheena Easton’s face and body as a part of the titles. It’d be easy to claim that this was a reaction to the growing popularity of MTV if not for one thing – MTV didn’t launch until about three months after the movie was released. So instead we must assume that the decision was purely an aesthetic one, given that Sheena Easton was pretty enough to be a Bond girl herself. She’s a marvel, and the song by Bill Conti and Michael Leeson is nearly as tight as Carly Simon’s. Finding a current, pretty pop star with serious pipes was the apology after Bassey’s flaccid “Moonraker.”
Binder creates a swirling, sensual concoction here, and this was the last time he was truly on fire, doing the thing that he’s best known for, in the history of cinema.
We need look no further than the titles for “Octopussy” for proof of our previous assertion. Rita Coolidge is a fine singer, but not at all right for Bond, and out of step with the cultural zeitgeist of that moment. Couple her with yet another title that makes for a potentially awkward theme, and we end up with “All Time High,” and likely Binder’s least inspiring work in the series. There’s simply nothing of note here, unless we want to mention the unintentionally laughable bits such as Bond swinging a woman around in circles by an arm and a leg, and the visual around the 1:20 mark, where it appears Bond is humping the model.
With Moore’s swansong, “A View to a Kill,” the series swings back around to contemporary and current by getting Duran Duran on board. Their theme song is exceptional, and Binder gives it his all, in an attempt to deliver visuals to match the audio. This title sequence, much like the year 1985, is a garish, hideous affair, drenched in glow in the dark excess. Not bad necessarily, as Binder seems at his worst when he’s not trying, and here he clearly is, but such a freakshow, you cannot take your eyes off it. He even brings a little something new to the table by featuring silhouetted naked men – on skis, no less! In doing so, Binder sort of proves why he’d never done it before: They appear neutered, like a Ken doll. Clearly the male form does not lend itself well to Binder’s artistry.
As we enter the final stretch of Maurice Binder’s work with the James Bond series, a new actor – Timothy Dalton – has been cast in the lead role, and a new era seemingly begins, even though behind the scenes it was all business as usual, with the same creative minds calling the shots in a cinematic world threatening to leave Bond behind. It was a franchise in a mild creative crisis, punctuated by being only a two-picture affair. It should come as no surprise that Binder’s final title sequences, as well as the songs the play over them, reflect this rocky footing.
“The Living Daylights” feels like a straight-up greatest hits compilation. It works well enough, but just. The same can more or less be said of Binder’s fourteenth and final Bond title sequence, 1989’s “Licence to Kill.” Few artists do their greatest work at the end of their careers, and Binder is no exception. While this is workmanlike, and not particularly exceptional, it’s difficult to level too much criticism at this stage, since he’d essentially been reworking variations of the same idea repeatedly since “Thunderball” (much like the franchise itself). But the fact that he was able to do it over and over again, for so long, while simultaneously charming generations of moviegoers speaks volumes to his talent and legacy.
Maurice Binder died at the relatively young age of 66 in 1991. Even if he’d lived to see ’95, when the Bond franchise was revived with Pierce Brosnan in the lead, it seems unlikely his services would have been called upon. Starting with “Goldeneye,” the title sequences (“Quantum of Solace” aside) have been designed by commercial and music video director Daniel Kleinman. On his watch they’ve become elaborate, CGI-driven affairs, which, while taking cues from and paying due homage to Binder’s work, have become their own, different sort of excessive animal.
All 22 of the Bond title sequences are now available to view in one single block (clocking in at over an hour), in gorgeous eye-popping 1080p, on the bonus disc of the recent Blu-ray box set, Bond 50: The Complete 22 Film Collection.