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For a while, it seemed like the world was no longer safe
for James Bond. More specifically, it seemed like it was no
longer safe for the suave, sexy Western super spy. A couple
of New Yorker's ago, Anthony Lane cranked out a brilliant
analysis of the entire film series where he labeled Ian Fleming's
concoction as a representative of British imperialism without
the colonies, going around the world, diffusing disaster and
performing conquest upon every sexy woman in his wake. It
was a brilliant take, but one that I will neither repeat or
attempt to topple in this review. Instead, I want to focus
on Bond in the post-95 era. That year gave us Golden Eye,
a fun addition introducing the world to Pierce Brosnan in
the title role as well as new politics. It was the first Bond
film since the collapse of the Berlin Wall so thus the producers
decided to let their Anglo-daredevil take on the delicate
struggle between the Motherland and the Irish. If it seemed
to lack polish and balance at times, us die-hard fans could
merely blame it on the fact that the new lead was just getting
his feet wet. Then, Tomorrow Never Dies made Bond into
a super-Ralph Nadar of sorts, taking on the Ted Turner-esque
Jonathan Pryce in his bid for the ultimate takeover. Bond,
in the new global-politics, handled his bad guys and his share
of women in a way resembling global leaders of the time. He
was arbitrary on somewhat shaky ground in the same way Clinton
and Blair had to handle good guys and bad guys when it was
never certain who the good guys and bad guys were. The Connery's,
the Lazenby's, the Moore's and even the Dalton's always had
the faceless enemy from behind the Iron Curtain (Or their
subordinates) to worry about. But once 1999 rolled around,
all that was left remained The World is not Enough.
Having toppled Ireland and multinational corporations, Bond
was forced to go after the very Hollywood Euro-trash villain
embodied by a pain-resistant Robert Carlyle. Since the bad
guy 's novelty was never elaborated upon, the film mercilessly
did its darndest to trash and up and demoralizes the sexiness
that was so close to being both of those things all along.
Instead of the clever and subtle misogyny of the past, the
audience was treated to lines such as, "I thought Christmas
only came once a year" and the pleasure of watching Denise
Richards as the most form-fitting nuclear scientist in cinema.
The World is not Enough threatened to be Bond's Lewinsky,
a giant blowjob hell bent on the destruction of a Western
mythology.
I am relieved to report that the folks at Broccolli and
Company got their act together with the new installment, Die
Another Day. Here, the Great Hope of the Empire has to
show some vulnerability and take some major hits before saving
the world and bedding the girl. Day also, even though
filming began before you-know-what, seems to have a greater
awareness of the new world. The film's opening contains a
classic political image: Bond literally surfs his way into
North Korea. You read correctly: He hangs ten directly into
the Axis of Evil. Apparently, the military brass are up to
no good and Bond is going to make a pre-emptive strike while
the US is too busy protecting our oil and Hebrew interests
in the Middle East. And while the hovercraft over the minefields
chase has a nice, overblown craftiness, it doesn't end so
well for our hero. He is subjected to fourteen months of electro-shock
and water torture, all of which is depicted over Madonna's
title track in the standard "flash and splash" opening
sequence. Whoa, I thought as I almost dropped my contra-band
bag of Crispy M and M's. The symbol of Western style and strength
is now no longer above pain and suffering. And this movie
makes it feel painful and sensual all at once. It also seemstopical,
does it not? The film never really sustains that type of sweeping
imagery past the sight of Bond with a John Walker Lindh-style
makeover, but it sets a new tone for the normal thrills and
kicks we expect. Bond knows he was set up when he was captured
past the 38th parallel and is out to exact revenge. This takes
him all over the world from Havana to Iceland back to Korea
again for the climax. Along the way, he meets Jinx (Halle
Berry), a woman he immediately beds but remains uncertain
as to whether this Oscar-winning hottie will either be the
Bond girl or the Bad girl. He also teams up with Agent Frost
(Rosamund Pike), a former Olympian with an Olympic sexuality
to boot. The bad guy this time is Gustav Graves (Toby Stephens),
a daredevil Richard Branson-type who lives up the high life
with his constant case of insomnia. He also has a super-duper
satellite in orbit that can act as a second sun. Seems like
a somewhat dubious device, but we are assured that it will
cure world hunger by helping crops grow. I'm not really sure
how that's going to work since its light projectory really
acts more like a laser beam than a legitimate heat and energy
source. But of course, Graves ends up using this "cure
for world despair" as his proverbial axe to grind. Will
Bond save the world this time? Let's just say that some things
obviously don't change all that much.
Through its duration, Die Another Day shows some
progressive stripes. I know that some people will bemoan the
fact that the bad guy isn't all that…exciting. He lacks
a cool deformity and his weapons of mass destruction feel
as though it were lifted from an Avengers episode. But I think
that his purpose has far greater weight. Now, I may SPOLING
a few things here but Graves turns out to be the bad North
Korean military guy that Bond thought he had killed during
the opening. Turns out he had some sort of genetic "body-lift"
and ended up patterning his playboy billionaire after the
swagger and look of Bond himself. Get it? The bad Commie from
the East looks to destroy the West by camouflaging himself
into the ultimate Anglo globe trotter. To me, statements in
brainless, spy action flicks don't get any better than that.
In addition, the harsh humbling Bond receives at the beginning
of the film helps to reform the near-parody sexuality of the
past couple of film. It gets back to the basics; with a little
bit of smooth talk followed by a whole lot of mattress wrestling.
Of course, it's safe to say that director Lee Tamohari (Once
Were Warriors) is more adept with the action as opposed to
the sensuality. There's a love scene between Bond and Agent
Frost at the resort in Iceland that is made completely out
of…ice. Very cool to look at, but all I could think about
whether Bond was suave enough to overcome shrinkage.
Having said that, the action in this film has a particular
knowing style. There's a great scene where Bond and Graves
meet during a match of fencing. Very proper and very British.
The match degrades into a grudge match that could hardly be
classified as gentlemanly. All of the action sequences have
that feels and never divulge into the outrageousness of the
last few films. Brosnan seems to be getting the hang of things
as he now actually looks like he's Bond instead of a Jeremy
Northan-type who showed up for the audition. Berry also has
fun as well, but it seems disquieting that we've reached the
point in our society where it's all right that a Bond girl
has actually won an Oscar. But maybe I'm living in the past.
Maybe this is a sign that everything has evolved. If Bond
can be overtly political, then perhaps everything has to be
bumped up a notch. Maybe Her Majesty will start thinking that
there is hope for a Reconstruction of the colony system after
all.
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