Before delving into other matters, let us get one item out of the way. In anticipation of No Time to Die finally being released into theaters after an overextended delay, I recently engrossed myself in a James Bond marathon from Sean Connery to Pierce Brosnan. Concluding with Daniel Craig’s masterpiece, Casino Royale, little time was left to binge the remainder of his entries before heading off to the theater. Although having seen all of them numerous times before, it nonetheless was an exhausting task watching twenty-one movies over several weeks; without spoilers, it nicely prepared me for the latest installment with those evocative and indelible scenes and plots fresh in my mind. As such, more so in chronological order than personal preference, here are my current top ten 007 films:
Dr No
From Russia with Love
Goldfinger
On Her Majesty’s Secret Service
The Spy Who Loved Me
For Your Eyes Only
The Living Daylights
GoldenEye
Casino Royale
No Time to Die
Now, you might be wondering about a few missing from this list or, perhaps, even some included on it. You probably keep staring at On Her Majesty’s Secret Service and, undoubtedly, The Living Daylights, perplexed by their inclusion. In regards to the former, I honestly was not a fan of it in my youth; George Lazenby was not, and still is not, Connery. Yet, I have joined the chorus in recent years of those who appreciate and believe it deserves a place among the pantheon, along with Lazenby’s laudable performance, for one simple reason: its presence is felt, both overtly and subtly, throughout the rest of the franchise that follows. As forgettable as A View to a Kill is, OHMSS is anything but forgotten by its successors. As for the latter, Timothy Dalton’s Bond simply was, at the time until Craig, the closest to Ian Fleming’s vision, thus TLD meriting a spot.
When Brosnan took over the role, he instantly shot to the top as a favorite. Nevertheless, the majority of his entries are a hot mess...which is not an exclusive opinion all my own. Although GoldenEye makes the cut, it suffers from the same issue as the subsequent movies: every villain and/or henchman increasingly more parody than plausible. Where Famke Janssen would be sufficient distraction in a good way, Xenia Onatopp is exhaustingly over the top in a bad way; megalomaniac Elliot Carver, enthusiastically portrayed by Jonathan Pryce, elicits nothing less than consternation over his middling “diabolical” plan…to control the narrative and increase his media group’s influence/ratings by igniting a war?! Actually, this preposterous scheme appears improbably prescient given the current state of the news industry combined with concerns over social media, thus the proverbial life imitating art. Other than to reference it, let us not concern ourselves with everything awful in Die Another Die.
While the all-too-brief Dalton era was intended to be more grounded than the preceding ones, this comes across as an attempt to maintain that level while simultaneously recalling the absurdities of the Roger Moore era, e.g. Moonraker and the aforementioned AVTAK, with mixed results.
Which brings us to Brosnan’s third film, The World Is Not Enough. This is a good, if not great, movie...except for one, albeit tiny, blemish that, in my opinion, ruins it more than anything in its predecessors. Unfortunately, neither the villain nor henchman is to blame in this instance; instead, it is Dr. Christmas Jones. Not Denise Richards’ portrayal, per se, but rather her character’s name. Perhaps if she had been introduced as “Chris Jones,” not only would Richards possibly come across more believable as a nuclear (hot supermodel) scientist but, as I can still recollect when seeing it the first time, one would not be detracted from the rest of the movie wondering about why that is her name and the assuredly terrible quip to come.
Again, this is not an exclusive opinion all my own.
Further, Jones even informs Bond upon their first meeting that she has heard all the jokes, implying that she not only dislikes them but also her full name. In that case, why use it if both obviously bother her? Simply to set up Bond’s dreadful closing punchline, which could have been framed in dialogue much differently, and possibly agreeably better received, if we find out her full name only at the end. Between that and Dr. Molly Warmflash (seriously?!), it is so groan-producing ridiculous that it triggers eye-rolling cringe rather than the typical adolescent response induced by the gloriously named Holly Goodhead or, especially, Pussy Galore.
All which leads us back to the aptly titled, No Time to Die. A film that, again without giving away any spoilers, embraces and homages the franchise's past, both recent and in its origins, while serving as an excellent conclusion to the Craig era that hints at the future. What Dalton almost had achieved if given better storylines and more time, Daniel Craig accomplished (this side of Connery) in his own time as Bond. James Bond.
Dr No
From Russia with Love
Goldfinger
On Her Majesty’s Secret Service
The Spy Who Loved Me
For Your Eyes Only
The Living Daylights
GoldenEye
Casino Royale
No Time to Die
Now, you might be wondering about a few missing from this list or, perhaps, even some included on it. You probably keep staring at On Her Majesty’s Secret Service and, undoubtedly, The Living Daylights, perplexed by their inclusion. In regards to the former, I honestly was not a fan of it in my youth; George Lazenby was not, and still is not, Connery. Yet, I have joined the chorus in recent years of those who appreciate and believe it deserves a place among the pantheon, along with Lazenby’s laudable performance, for one simple reason: its presence is felt, both overtly and subtly, throughout the rest of the franchise that follows. As forgettable as A View to a Kill is, OHMSS is anything but forgotten by its successors. As for the latter, Timothy Dalton’s Bond simply was, at the time until Craig, the closest to Ian Fleming’s vision, thus TLD meriting a spot.
When Brosnan took over the role, he instantly shot to the top as a favorite. Nevertheless, the majority of his entries are a hot mess...which is not an exclusive opinion all my own. Although GoldenEye makes the cut, it suffers from the same issue as the subsequent movies: every villain and/or henchman increasingly more parody than plausible. Where Famke Janssen would be sufficient distraction in a good way, Xenia Onatopp is exhaustingly over the top in a bad way; megalomaniac Elliot Carver, enthusiastically portrayed by Jonathan Pryce, elicits nothing less than consternation over his middling “diabolical” plan…to control the narrative and increase his media group’s influence/ratings by igniting a war?! Actually, this preposterous scheme appears improbably prescient given the current state of the news industry combined with concerns over social media, thus the proverbial life imitating art. Other than to reference it, let us not concern ourselves with everything awful in Die Another Die.
While the all-too-brief Dalton era was intended to be more grounded than the preceding ones, this comes across as an attempt to maintain that level while simultaneously recalling the absurdities of the Roger Moore era, e.g. Moonraker and the aforementioned AVTAK, with mixed results.
Which brings us to Brosnan’s third film, The World Is Not Enough. This is a good, if not great, movie...except for one, albeit tiny, blemish that, in my opinion, ruins it more than anything in its predecessors. Unfortunately, neither the villain nor henchman is to blame in this instance; instead, it is Dr. Christmas Jones. Not Denise Richards’ portrayal, per se, but rather her character’s name. Perhaps if she had been introduced as “Chris Jones,” not only would Richards possibly come across more believable as a nuclear (hot supermodel) scientist but, as I can still recollect when seeing it the first time, one would not be detracted from the rest of the movie wondering about why that is her name and the assuredly terrible quip to come.
Again, this is not an exclusive opinion all my own.
Further, Jones even informs Bond upon their first meeting that she has heard all the jokes, implying that she not only dislikes them but also her full name. In that case, why use it if both obviously bother her? Simply to set up Bond’s dreadful closing punchline, which could have been framed in dialogue much differently, and possibly agreeably better received, if we find out her full name only at the end. Between that and Dr. Molly Warmflash (seriously?!), it is so groan-producing ridiculous that it triggers eye-rolling cringe rather than the typical adolescent response induced by the gloriously named Holly Goodhead or, especially, Pussy Galore.
All which leads us back to the aptly titled, No Time to Die. A film that, again without giving away any spoilers, embraces and homages the franchise's past, both recent and in its origins, while serving as an excellent conclusion to the Craig era that hints at the future. What Dalton almost had achieved if given better storylines and more time, Daniel Craig accomplished (this side of Connery) in his own time as Bond. James Bond.
©2021 Steve Sagarra
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