The Films of 1983: Never Say Never Again

While watching Skyfall (2012) a few weeks back, I was struck by all the quips about James Bond's (Daniel Craig's) advancing age, and the film's reckoning with powerful idea that "time has passed." The new 007 film clearly recognizes that time waits for no man, and preserves no man.   This thematic strand reminded me that another film in the franchise (at least unofficially) also played with those very ideas once upon a time.

Of course, that film is Never Say Never Again (1983), the return of Sean Connery to the 007 role after an absence of a dozen years.  The film came out during the very year that many media outlets dubbed "The Battle of the Bonds" because Roger Moore's Octopussy (1983) was also released.

In Never Say Never Again, the audience encounters an older, slower -- but still lethal -- agent 007 as he faces both Blofeld's SPECTRE and also the specter of looming retirement.  More than that, Bond must deal with the idea that he is outmoded...a "dinosaur."  And indeed, we get words to that effect in Skyfall as well.  But in NSNA, Bond must recognize that he is, finally, getting old.

At least that's according to the new "M' (Edward Fox), who -- in a great reaction shot -- physically recoils after seeing Bond head-butt an opponent during a training exercise (the pre-title sequence which opens the film.)  He has no taste for such messiness; such brutal improvisation. 

The world has changed...and apparently passed Bond by in the process.  But, as Bond reminds us, in reference to his beloved Bentley, he may be old, but he's still "in pretty good shape."

Perhaps the quality I most admire about Never Say Never Again is its ability to pit an older, but still in good-shape Bond, against a buttoned-down era that seems, well,  drained of life  As Bond's over-worked, under-paid gadgeteer, Algy (Alec McEwen) comments mid-way through Never Say Never Again: "Bureaucrats running the old place.  Everything done by the book.  Can't make a decision unless the computer gives you the go ahead.  Now you're here.  I hope we're going to have some gratuitous sex and violence..." 

This amusing comment may serve a double, subversive purpose.  First, Q's comment works contextually, regarding the "re-activation" of the 00s (and Bond) in the narrative of Never Say Never Again, particularly against the backdrop of the new era of the corporate, computerized 1980s. 

But metaphorically, the line also serves as a pointed jab at the official EON James Bond film line, which had -- during the reign of Roger Moore as Bond -- adopted the apparently official stance that James Bond represents Disney-fied violence; or "violence for the family."

The re-activation of Connery's original, craftier Bond in Never Say Never Again is therefore not merely a breath of fresh air in terms of the movie's PC world; but in terms of a real-life world where the aging James Bond feature film franchise was no longer considered legitimately dangerous or cutting edge. 

After all, audiences at this point had seen Star Wars, The Empire Strikes Back, Alien, Dirty Harry...and more was to come.  The Terminator, Lethal Weapon, Batman and Die Hard franchises were just on the horizon.

Accordingly, Never Say Never Again feels like the most dangerous, edgy, unpredictable Bond film in ages (particularly after the toothless and farcical -- if absolutely enjoyable -- Moonraker [1979]). 

Where the Bond films had long ago reduced main characters to off-the-shelf, familiar types like the General Villain (Goldfinger, Scaramanga, Stromberg, Drax, etc.) and the Soldier Villain (Odd Job, Nick Nack, Jaws, etc), Connery's return film largely restores the humanity and individuality -- and therefore the unpredictability -- to these familiar cliches and stock types.

Spectacular (if fantasy-based) stunt-work is also largely eschewed in Irvin Kershner's Never Say Never Again, in favor of the aforementioned head-butt and a concentration on more grounded, macho and personal fisticuffs (a hallmark of Connery's early, grittier era, back in the 1960s). 

So nobody is dangling from blimps-in-flight over The Golden Gate Bridge here, if you get my drift. Not that there's anything wrong, inherently, with the other approach. It's just a matter of preference, about how you like your 007.

There is also a deliberate, overt focus on sex in Never Say Never Again (particularly in Bond's coupling with the evil Fatima Blush [Barbara Carrera].)  Bond beds no less than four women in the course of the movie, actually.  Again, this is an approach that the official Bond series reversed by the late 1980s, making Timothy Dalton's Bond a one-lady-kind-of-guy (to accommodate in the culture the emergence of AIDS).

In short, Never Say Never Again feels a bit more passionate, a bit more human, and a lot less rote, less predictable, than some of the 1970s Bonds...even though it is loosely a remake of 1965's Thunderball.  

Your Reputation Has Preceded You; Or You Were a Very Good Secret Agent.  Really.

In matters of death, SPECTRE is strictly impartial...

Never Say Never Again tells the story of a wicked gambit on the part of Blofeld (Max Von Sydow) and SPECTRE. 

Using a heroin-addicted American air force officer, Jack Petachi (Gavin O'Herlihy), a villain named Largo (Klaus Maria Brandauer) and Fatima Blush, or Agent 12 (Carrera), steal two American W80 thermo-nuclear warheads during a routine training exercise centered at Swadley's Air Force Base. 

Blofeld blackmails the West (NATO, in particular): pay an exorbitant fee or see the bombs detonated in two days time. 

As one anxious diplomat describes the plot, it is "the ultimate nightmare," this nuclear blackmail. And ironically, this story of loose nukes seems more timely and relevant in the 1980s -- a span when the hawkish, Peace-Through-Strength Reagan decried the "Evil Empire" and jokingly announced that "bombing begins in five minutes," -- than it did in the 1960s, when Thunderball premiered.

Agent James Bond (Connery), 007 -- who has spent most of his time in recent years teaching --  is re-activated and sent out by the officious M to recover the bombs. 

Following a stint at the health farm, Shrublands, Bond heads to the Bahamas, where Largo's yacht, the Flying Saucer, may be carrying at least one of the warheads.  There, Largo executes SPECTRE's plot, code-named "The Tears of Allah," all while deceiving his beautiful girlfriend, dancer Domino Petachi (Kim Basinger), about the death of her brother, Jack.

Now Bond must outwit and outfight Fatima with the help of his CIA buddy, Felix Leiter (Bernie Casey) and discover where the jealous Largo is hiding those warheads.  In doing so, he will require Domino's help...

Shaken but not stirred.

Behind-the-scenes, Never Say Never Again represents Sean Connery's return to the iconic role that made him a star following a dozen-year absence. 

It's an unofficial Bond film as well, one born from producer Kevin McClory's (1926-2006) early efforts with Ian Fleming to first bring James Bond to the cinema in 1959. 

A lawsuit awarded McClory the rights to produce a remake of Thunderball, a story that he initiated, and which was known, over the years as both Warhead and James Bond of the Secret Service.   But because the film Never Say Never Again was unofficial at the time of its successful theatrical release, it could not make use of such official Bond film touches as Monty Norman's world-famous theme song, and the trademark gun barrel opening. 

For some, this is enough to disqualify the effort from serious consideration as a great Bond film.

The title of Never Say Never Again itself arises not from Ian Fleming, but from Connery, who -- after 1971's Diamonds are Forever -- declared that he would never again don the tuxedo, order dry martinis, and carry a license to kill.  So the movie title -- much like Algy's line quoted above -- plays on two amusing levels; both as Bond's declaration to Domino that he intends to retire; and as an in-joke aimed at Connery who, despite protestation, is back as Bond one more time.

Just One More Game for the Rest of the World...

Domination, video game style.

Today, at least one scene in Never Say Never Again stands out as being a legitimate Bond classic. 

At approximately the hour-point of the narrative, James Bond tricks his way into Largo's casino in Nice, France. 

But rather than engage his wily opponent in high-stakes poker, or the oft-seen Baccarat (Chemin de Fer), Bond duels Largo in...a video game.

And it is no average video game, either. 

Rather, Largo has designed and constructed "Domination," a video game battle for ownership of the world itself.  The objective, Largo states, is "power."  Two players battle for territory, for land, while racking up dollars on the big screen.  The left-hand joystick controls two nuclear missiles that can be launched against an opponent; and the right-hand joystick controls missile shields which can block the W80 thermo-nuclear warheads. 

Players target with their lasers small geometric territories that light up on their screens.  The player that hits the territory first is the winner and owner of said territory.

Armchair general...

And Largo -- being a super-villain -- has wired his elaborate video game to deliver electric shocks to the players every time one's defenses are breached, or the enemy gets ahead. 

"Unlike armchair generals," suggests Largo, players of this game will "share" the pain of soldiers in the field. 

This is an important distinction in the world of Never Say Never Again.  Bond is one of those aforementioned soldiers in the field; and knows all too well about physical pain.  But the world of the 1980s apparently has little use for James Bond and his skill-set post-Detente, and the men who deploy him in the field  (armchair generals like "M") have no idea how -- as he states early in the film --  "adrenaline" (another word for pain) provides him an edge in the heat of the moment.

And that's how Bond beats Largo, literally, at his own game here.  

Largo may know better the game he created, of course.  He's holding all the cards (as he's also holding the missing nuclear weapons...) but Bond still has his "edge" in the field to rely upon.  The pain of the electric shocks gives him just the kick he needs to get back in the game (come out of retirement) and fight back for "just one more game...for the rest of the world."

...versus a soldier in the field...

This tense, brilliantly-executed sequence with the Domination video game is the most significant one in the film for a number of reasons.

First, it again reveals Bond out-of-his element in the modern, high-tech world.  This older, slower James Bond  is not part of the video game generation.  We are used to seeing him play and excel at cards, not manage a joystick.  So the game is a metaphor for Bond being out-of-step with the modern world.

Yet 007 soundly beats Largo here -- at the video game -- for the same reasons he ultimately defeats him in the larger narrative: because of his "edge," because the pain (delivered by the electric shocks, in this case) activates his adrenaline.

There's something about being a "soldier in the field" -- some combination of instincts and experience -- that takes over in Bond and refuses to "lose."  Largo -- for all his intelligence and savvy -- doesn't have that same sense of experience, and the game sequence makes this point.

Two video game monsters, side-by-side.

In one truly great and telling visual composition, Kershner even reminds us that Largo is a creature of today -- or the film's day in 1983 --  a video-game villain.  He stands perched beside an old arcade game on which a fantasy-styled monster has been painted, and the point is made by putting the two "creatures" in close-proximity. 

Even Largo's command center -- where Largo spends much of his time -- is highly computerized, consisting of a wall of screens and keyboards.  Largo also has a secret window (another form of viewing screen...) through which he can peek illicitly into Domino's dancing studio. 

Again, he's a watcher, not a doer -- an armchair general rather than a soldier in the field -- and that quality proves his undoing.  He doesn't understand what physical pain and danger can drive a man to do; what they can drive Bond to do.

The idea of video-games and computers taking over the world is one of the "big" ideas of the cinema of 1983, as we have seen from War Games, Superman III, and even the horror anthology, Nightmares.   

The overwhelming fear expressed in these films is that our technology will run amok, and challenge human civilization.  Never Say Never Again is "one of the pack" and it updates Bond for the video game age as much as Skyfall updates Bond for the Drone War Age.

They Don't Make Them Like This Anymore...

In shades of black and white, Bond's space in the frame is squeezed out.

Pretty clearly, Never Say Never Again is a special Bond film for one reason primarily: it acknowledges that Bond is actually a human being who ages, and not an unflappable superhero in a white dinner jacket.   This 1983 film thus allows James Bond to age and evolve -- something the canon Bonds did not permit of this particular hero until the reboots with Daniel Craig. 

This idea of Bond aging (both gracefully and not so gracefully...) adds a layer of real human interest to the narrative.  Bond still has his edge; but it is it sharp enough -- in his mid 50s -- to get the job done?  

That's the movie's big question, and Connery is great here at playing the same man we love and remember, but some distance down the too-short road towards mortality; when he has more yesterdays than tomorrows ahead of him.

And secondly but of equal importance, director Irvin Kershner (The Empire Strikes Back [1980] has executed a clever tactic in the visual presentation of Never Say Never Again.  To put it bluntly, James Bond no longer owns the frame.  

Rather, he intrudes into it and his space is intruded upon constantly.

Between a rock and hard place? More limited visual space for 007.

I always say that the medium of film reaches its apex when visual form echoes, reflects or augments film content, and that's precisely what Never Say Never Again accomplishes with tremendous flair.  

Remember, the overriding idea here is that Bond is a man out of step with the "new," high-tech but bloodless world of the 1980s.  He is not the swaggering, cocksure, center-of-the-frame hero of the 1960s.

It's a more dangerous world for the older, less-physically imposing Bond, and so he has to fight for a foothold in it every second.  Accordingly, Kershner provides the audience these moments of tremendous spontaneity and danger, during which Bond must put his instincts (and that adrenaline; that edge...) to the test.  

In other words, Bond is not blocked and framed in Never Say Never Again as he is in the canon Bond films.  He is not an impervious figure of power.  Rather, he's visually jeopardized and threatened, almost constantly.

During a fight, Bond flees...into a slamming door.

For instance, during a deadly, extended fight at Shrublands -- which goes from a weight room, down a flight of stairs and into a working kitchen -- Bond attempts to escape his opponent by hiding, first, and then running away, escaping. 

In a great and laugh-out-loud moment, a female chef flees the tight kitchen as the nemeses fight...and Bond tries to run after her...but the door slams in his face and he has a moment where -- using that edge -- he must improvise.  You can almost visualize Connery's Bond thinking, "thanks a lot, lady..." and then getting on with it.

Again and again, Kershner positions 007 in this unconventional and amusing fashion.  Emerging from behind a tree, even...skulking about.  Or in a tight shot of stark black-and-white shading inside his modern French villa; Bond's available space in the wide-frame "cut off" by the off-screen but nonetheless considerable threat of Fatima Blush.

I noted above that Never Say Never Again is an edgier, more dangerous style of Bond film, and that feeling suffuses the film, thanks to the manner in which Kershner perpetually frames the iconic character.   Bond is a man who is imperiled and affected by what is happening around him in the frame, and must -- by power of his instincts and edge -- forge his own positive outcome.

Furthermore, Kershner contrasts his visual depiction of Bond (fighting for survival and placement in the frame) with his depiction of the colorful, even flamboyant, highly idiosyncratic villains. 

Effortless, dangerous power in the foreground.

Fatima Blush, for instance, is often filmed from a low angle (atop staircases, or looming over Bond, right before her demise), giving the impression of tremendous power and constancy. 

When she detonates a bomb in Bond's hotel in the Bahamas, Fatima does so without even a casual look over a shoulder, and Kershner's gorgeous framing again suggests a villain in total, effortless control of the environs.  

Again, look at that careful, beautiful framing and placement above for just a second.  What you see there is raw, well-established power dominating the foreground of the frame, while chaos reigns -- unimportant -- behind her.

Kershner also permits seemingly spontaneous, apparently unplanned moments from Klaus Maria Brandauer play out for maximum impact.  This villain is a dangerous character, and the actor virtually steals every second he can get in the limelight...and perhaps more too.  This Largo is a power-hungry grabber, a drama queen, a man who solicits attention, and Brandauer goes nuts with the role.

Swapping spit with Largo.

Whether it's delicately blowing a soothing kiss on his electrically-shocked hands after losing to Bond  in Domination, or kissing Domino for so long -- and so passionately -- that a line of spit visibly connects their lips, Largo "dominates" the frame too.

Again, Kershner's patience and unique approach to the performances (particularly with the quirky Branduer) make Never Say Never Again feel more dangerous, spontaneous, edgy and immediate than many official Bond films of roughly the same era.  Where they rigorously adhere to a specific formula and template, Never Say Never Again attempts to explode the formula, presenting a vulnerable, mature Bond who must, again and again, really fight (and improvise) for his life. 

In my book, Brandauer is the most deadly threat to Bond since Goldfinger; an amused sociopath who is drunk with power, and this Bond -- going back to Ian Fleming's literary vision -- seems the most human (at least until Timothy Dalton and Daniel Craig came along...) 

Never Say Never Again suffers a bit from a weak, anti-climactic finale (Domino spears Largo and the whole affair is over...), but otherwise the film must rank as one of the best of all the Bond films.  It showcases another side of the hero, and in defining Bond's "edge" helps us to understand -- finally, after twenty years and a dozen films -- what makes this hero tick; what makes him thrive.

Just as the Bond character was growing stale and old, and distinctly non-edgy, a fifty year old Connery (and a brilliantly-stylish Kershner) provide the hero just what he (and the audience...) needed:  a healthy dose of gratuitous sex and violence...shaken, not stirred.   Skyfall features many callbacks to the Bonds of yesteryear, but it owes the most, in my opinion, to Never Say Never Again.

Valedictory head-butts for everyone...

Movie Trailer: Never Say Never Again (1983)

The Top Five James Bond Pre-Title Sequences

The James Bond films are widely renowned for their spectacular pre-title action sequences.   Often, these elaborate sequences feature an independent narrative only loosely connected to the film proper, or even ones unconnected all-together (Octopussy [1983], for example). 

The express purpose of the pre-title sequence, in fact, sometimes seems to be to out-do and one-up the previous film’s climax.   Accordingly, these starting moments are often dominated by stunts and incredible action, sometimes even record-breakers.

The upshot of this approach is that James Bond fans know -- all too well -- that when the lights go down, the action starts…immediately.

So, how to rate a 007 pre-titles sequence?  I submit that the best ones tell a complete story, show us something we haven’t seen before, begin the movie with a tremendous jolt of adrenaline, and capture -- in some concise (yet dazzling) way -- the James Bond aesthetic, some canny mixture of action, sex, and humor.

5. Goldfinger (1964)

Although some modern viewers might consider this pre-titles sequence simple, basic, or even ordinary today, I believe it remains the prototype for all the ones that come later.  Set in an unnamed Latin-American country -- where Bond (Sean Connery) is on a mission to destroy a drug laboratory -- this Goldfinger opener reminds us and re-establishes for us every quality that we love about 007, and about the Bond film series.

The scene boasts a sense of humor, since Bond wears a hat that looks like a sea-gull as he emerges from the water in a wet suit.  It features a nod to his impeccable sense of style, since the agent wears a white dinner jacket and bow-tie under his scuba gear, and it even features a dynamic Ken Adam-designed villain headquarters.

The icing on the cake is the beautiful dancer Bond romances, and the knock-down, drag-out fight with a cold-blooded killer in her dressing room.  In one of the film’s many visually dazzling moments, Bond becomes aware of the assassin by seeing his approach reflected in his lover’s eye.  After Bond electrocutes the villain, he even lays a quip on us.  “Shocking…”

Action, romance and humor combine perfectly in a scene less than five-minutes in duration.  Goldfinger hits every important note of the Bond film mystique, and is the standard for all the films that follow.

4. Octopussy (1983)

This pre-title sequence finds James Bond (Roger Moore) on a mission in Cuba to destroy an experimental air-craft tracking/weapons system.  The mission fails rather egregiously, but thanks to the help of a lovely agent, Bianca (Tina Hudson), he escapes from captivity, boards a mini-jet, and -- with the unintentional help of the Cuban air-force-- completes his task.  As the sequence ends, the mini-jet runs out of gas, and Bond conveniently locates a gas station…

This sequence features one of the all-time best Bond vehicles, a tiny jet known as an Acrostar Micro-jet.  It is so tiny, in fact, that it can fit comfortably inside a standard horse trailer, and roll into a lane at your average gas station.  And boy can it fly...  The stunts involving the plane are stunning, and final punch-line, “Fill her up please” is perfect, especially as delivered by the smiling Moore.

Again, we get the beautiful woman, the deadly crisis, and an explosion of an enemy headquarters (in this case an airplane hanger), but the addition of the distinctive Acrostar makes all the old standards feel new, and vibrant.

3.A View to A Kill (1985)

Roger Moore’s last Bond film features a lot of ups and downs.  One moment it feels grim and brooding, and the next it is reveling in campy humor.  Although this schizophrenia is also revealed in the pre-title sequence, the sequence is nonetheless one of the finest in the series in terms of the stunt work and musical scoring (by John Barry).

The scene opens in Siberia as Bond (Moore again) finds the corpse of 003, and recovers an important micro-chip.  In short order, however, he comes under attack from a team of Russian soldiers.  The soldiers come at 007 on skis, on jet-skis, and in a helicopter. 

Bond navigates his way through the icy terrain -- and over a body of water -- to reach a submarine disguised as an iceberg.  But he doesn’t leave the scene before serving as a one-man wrecking crew, killing his enemies, and taking down the helicopter with a flare gun.

Scored in lugubrious but memorable fashion, this pre-title sequence is veritable carnage candy, with Bond taking down scores of opponents, and resourceful “surfing” across the water to reach freedom. 

I know the purists hate these moments, but the sequence cuts briefly to the Beach Boys’ “California Girls” on the soundtrack when Bond surfs on one ski.  Sure it’s campy, but the audience I saw it with roared with laughter, and the stunts themselves are incredible.  Today, this would probably all be accomplished with CGI, but it’s important to remember that a stunt man actually accomplished these amazing feats, skiing down a sheer cliff face, and across a real river.

Lapses into (audience-approved) corn humor aside, View to a Kill opens with tremendous gravity and spectacular action.

2. The Living Daylights (1987)

This was the film that introduced Timothy Dalton as James Bond, after seven films with the getting long-in-the-tooth Roger Moore.  Accordingly, this pre-title sequence serves as our introduction to the younger, more serious, and much more athletic incarnation of 007.

The setting for that introduction is an M16 training exercise over Gibraltar involving the 00s. We watch -- without yet seeing Bond -- as these agents sky-dive out of the back of the plane, and come down the treacherous side of the mountain.  The camera-work during the jump creates a genuine sense of exhilaration.

Before long, an assassin is after the unsuspecting agents, executing a KGB plan called Smert Spionam (“Death to Spies.”) As the first double-o dies, we get our first look at the wolfish new James Bond, a reaction shot revealing the gravity and intensity with which he weighs this danger.  Before long, we’re getting jump scares (watch out for that a monkey!), and a destructive car chase on a winding road, and a fist-fight as Bond battles it out with his opponent.  All the while, we get to marvel at  something we haven't seen in a while: a young James Bond (in his thirties), running, leaping, jumping and fighting. Not since the early days of Sean Connery have we had such a physically aggressive, physically capable hero, and The Living Daylights establishes these "dangerous" qualities brilliantly in the pre-title sequence.

In fact, The Living Daylights even plays lightly with the idea of a "serious" Bond.  The agent lands on a yacht, grabs a phone, calls headquarters, and is absolutely all-business.   Only in the last second does a smile creep across his face as he decides to spend a little time with a bored (but appreciative…) lady.   Yep, new face, new vigor…but same Bond.   

1. The Spy Who Loved Me (1976)

This Bond pre-title sequence features one of the most jaw-dropping stunts ever to grace the silver screen, followed up by one of the best visual punch-lines of the entire Bond film series.

Here, Bond (Moore) is pursued by Soviet agents, when he is forced to ski, essentially, off a mountain.  He makes that jump (still wearing skis…) with no digital trickery or rear projection tomfoolery.  The camera follows the jump as he goes down, down and down -- in real life some 3,000 feet -- for an impossibly long time.  Finally, a parachute goes up; a parachute emblazoned with the Union Jack symbol. 

It’s a perfect movie moment, and a perfect opening to a James Bond film.  The jump was performed by stuntman Rick Sylvester at Mount Asgard in Canada, supervised by editor John Glen, and shot by cinematographer Alan Hume and a ledge camera man. 

This early moment in the film isn’t merely stunning, but literally jaw-dropping.  Movie history -- and James Bond  history -- was made.

Top Five James Bond Title Songs

Now,  I present my five selections for my favorite James Bond songs.  

And I should say it now: I don’t expect everyone to agree with my taste on this list. 

In fact, I suspect this list is largely a result of generational affection and a commentary on the decades in which I grew up, and when I first experienced Agent 007.  

Some of this is as much about nostalgia as it is about great music, in other words.

But here are my admittedly sentimental choices.  I don’t think I fully realized until I put my favorites together in one place how much the Roger Moore Era of Bond impacted me. 

5. “A View to a Kill” (1985) by John Barry and Duran Duran, and performed by Duran Duran.

I know this choice probably gets the purists howling.  A View to a Kill isn’t a great Bond film by any means, and boy does the opening credits sequence (with all the tacky neon…) reek of 1985.  The film’s score by Barry, however, is absolutely terrific and one of the best in the Bond canon since On Her Majesty’s Secret Service in 1969. 

As for the title song I was fifteen years old when this film came out, and, yes, a follower of Duran Duran.  This was the first time that I could recall in my personal experience that there was a fusion between a Bond film and popular music. 

Of course, that’s not the case historically (as we’ll see as we continue on up the list). 

Still, I can’t help but get a kick out of this song.  It feels like it is to the 1980s Bond what Live and Let Die was to the 1970s Bond series: a punch of exhilaration.  But perhaps I needn’t apologize at all, because A View To a Kill remains the only Bond song to hit number one on the Billboard charts, and it was nominated for a Golden Globe award too.

4. “Nobody Does it Better” for The Spy Who Loved Me (1976) composed by Marvin Hamlisch and Carol Sager. Performed by Carly Simon.

Again, I grew up in the Roger Moore era, and remember his films with enormous fondness.  The music in those films, in particular, reminds me of my childhood.  The Spy Who Loved Me was one of the best of Roger Moore’s outings as Bond, and this song is, rightly, synonymous with the film. 

In particular, the movie gets off to a fantastic start with the jaw-dropping parachute-jump-off-a-mountain/Union Jack sequence, and then leads right into Carly Simon’s romantic crooning.  There may be three or so better, but in general – okay -- not many songs do it better than this one.

Listeners seem to agree, since “Nobody Does it Better” was nominated as “Best Song” for the Academy Awards in 1976, and the tune remains Carly Simon’s longest lasting placement on the Billboard charts (even longer than “You’re So Vain.”)

3. “For Your Eyes Only” composed by Bill Conti and Michael Leeson. Performed by Sheena Easton.

For all its spectacular action sequences and outer space action, Moonraker (1979) was sort of a spin out of control for the James Bond.  It was one giant step too far, perhaps, though I enjoy aspects of it.  For Your Eyes Only has always felt like the re-grounding of Bond to me, and in a wholly appropriate sense.  It’s a great film, and one of the truly underrated entries in the franchise.  The final sequence with Bond (Moore) rock climbing to reach a mountain-top monastery boasts more suspense than just about any other Bond scene you can name, which is no small feat.

The title song was a phenomenal hit in 1981 when it premiered, and my Mom and Dad were huge Sheena Easton fans after seeing the movie.  The opening credits feature the singer -- nude -- seemingly swimming to the top of frame while she performs.  I was eleven, and this seemed like a BFD.  A naked woman is singing the movie theme song! 

If memory serves, Easton is the only Bond singer to actually appear in the title credits of the film (though Madonna cameos in Die Another Day).  Like Carly Simon’s contribution, “For Your Eyes Only” was nominated for a “Best Song” Oscar.

2. “Goldfinger” (1964) composed by Anthony Newley and John Barry, and performed by Shirley Bassey.

There can be no doubt that this is the archetype, the song that paved the way, certainly for the numbers three and four on this list. 

Goldfinger gave Shirley Bassey her only top forty hit, and the song has also been inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame.  Bassey really knocks this one out of the park, and the song has the unusual distinction of being a Bond ballad about the villain, rather than 007.  This one is just a total knock-out.

Bassey returned to record two more title songs, Diamonds are Forever and Moonraker, though neither had the same (colossal) impact as the classic Goldfinger.

1. “Live and Let Die” composed by Paul and Linda McCartney, performed by Paul McCartney and Wings.

New decade. New Bond. New sound. 

Live and Let Die captures that aesthetic perfectly. 

It’s a harder-edged tune than some of those that came before, and McCartney’s blazing effort gave the James Bond film series its first nomination for an Academy Award for Best Original Song.  Live and Let Die also rocketed to number #2 on the Billboard Hot 100, and in the early 1990s was memorably covered by Guns’N’Roses. 

My very first James Bond album was Live and Let Die, and boy did I play it out.  Again, you get a kind of punch of adrenaline listening to this one, and that’s exactly the right vibe to begin the 1970s and a new incarnation of 007.

Top Five James Bond Women

Here's my tally of the Top Five Women of Agent 007.  My list leans heavily towards early Bonds, I’ve noticed, and I’m not exactly certain why, except perhaps that I encountered these strong characters at a formative period of my life, and therefore they had a  more significant impact on me. 

Also, I have this creeping sense (especially after watching The Hunger Games) that the nature of casting has changed a lot in the last thirty years.  Today it doesn’t always seem like the best person is sought to inhabit a role, but rather the person with the biggest “brand identity” who can lure the most people into theaters.   I’m not saying that the Bond films have necessarily fallen prey to this trend, only that the early Bonds seem practically flawless in terms of casting.

5. Solitaire (Jane Seymour) in Live and Let Die (1973).

 Jane Seymour is a terrific actress, and I’ve enjoyed her performances in Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger (1977) and Battlestar Galactica (1978) as well.  

But I always find Solitaire one of Seymour’s most intriguing characters.  She’s young and naive, to be certain, and yet Solitaire goes against the very tenets of her belief system, and indeed, jeopardizes her safety and well-being for Bond (Roger Moore).  She must possess no illusions that they are always going to be together -- he’s clearly not that kind of guy -- and yet Solitaire definitively chooses something “of the moment” instead of  something “of the future,” which is a powerful and counter-intuitive decision for someone in the fortune-telling business.  How it plays out in the film is that Bond "tricks" Solitaire with the Tarot cards.  So it seems, anyway.  But Solitaire's decision still feels like one that defies expectations, rather than playing into them.  I don’t consider Live and Let Die one of the very best Bond films, but I do hold it in high esteem, in part for the way the script navigates the Bond/Solitaire relationship.

4. Pussy Galore (Honor Blackman) in Goldfinger (1964).

Let’s put aside that name for a moment, and consider that Pussy Galore is tough, independent, and also a leader.  She isn’t easily intimidated, and she doesn’t fall immediately for Bond’s amorous advances. 

In the film, Pussy may or may not be a lesbian, but the important thing is that she is characterized as capable and intelligent.  Honor Blackman at age 39, was the oldest of the cinematic Bond women, and as Pussy Galore she not only exudes raw sex appeal, but also a strong sense of self.  She knows who she is, and that confidence makes her incredibly attractive. 

There’s a difference, perhaps, between Bond Girl and a Bond Woman, and Pussy Galore is really a Bond Woman, a fully-dimensional character who doesn’t need Bond, or take her cues from Bond.  She is an equal, and that makes her a great ally.  I love the character’s strength, and her sharp sense of humor.  And the scene where Galore and Bond take a "roll in the hay" together is still awesome, almost fifty years later.

3. Honey Ryder (Ursula Andress) in Dr. No (1962).

The first ever movie Bond Woman…and still one of the absolute greatest. Many critics and bloggers still remember and rave about Honey’s trademark entrance in the film emerging from the ocean in a white bikini.  To say that Ursula is statuesque is to understate the matter dramatically. 

And yet, we expect Bond women to be gorgeous, just as we expect Bond himself to be physically attractive.  What makes a Bond woman memorable, then, in my opinion, isn’t mere good looks. Instead, it’s a combination of the performance, the chemistry between leads, and the writing of the character.  In terms of Honey Ryder, she’s another independent woman who makes her own way (selling sea shells) and is fully capable of defending herself and fending off Bond’s advances.  She is also incredibly fiery and passionate.

2. Tatiana Romanova (Daniela Bianchi) in From Russia with Love (1963).

Tatiana is a young Russian patriot manipulated into working for Rosa Klebb and SPECTRE. Not unlike Solitaire, however, Tatiania is able to discern -- separately from governing ideology or belief system --good from bad, and makes her choices accordingly. 

Tatiana is a personal favorite of mine, as is From Russia with Love.  

I don’t want to make this list of favorite characters overtly crass in terms of who’s “the hottest” but in terms of personal preferences, let’s just say I happen to find Daniela Bianchi…exceptionally compelling.

The scene she shares with Sean Connery’s Bond in a hotel room (in which they are secretly being photographed…) is incredibly erotic, shockingly so, in fact, for 1963.  The Connery/Bianchi chemistry is just really, really powerful in this film.

1.Teresa di Vincenzo (Diana Rigg) in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969)

Class, intelligence, wit, humor and devastating charisma.  These words describe Tracy perfectly. 

You’d think this fiery woman would be a spoiled brat because of her upbringing as the rich daughter of Draco, but as we learn in the film, Tracy’s “acting out” against her father’s wishes is more about personal independence than self-indulgence.  Also, she's a bit of an adrenaline junkie...

Like Pussy Galore, Tracy is eminently capable.  Like Honey Ryder, she is passionate and fiery.  Like Solitaire and Tatiana, Tracy makes her own decisions by her own rules.  I’ve always admired Diana Rigg-- ever since I first saw her in The Avengers as Emma Peel.  But Tracy is not just Bond’s perfect match in temperament and style, she is his soul mate, and, indeed, tragically so.  

The ending of On Her Majesty’s Secret Service never fails to leave me devastated, and in part that’s because Rigg does such an exquisite job of making Tracy a fully-developed individual, right down to a quirky sense of humor.  She’s amazing in the role, and Rigg's success is evident from all the brief but critically important “call backs” to Tracy in later Bond films (The Spy Who Loved Me, For Your Eyes Only, and Licence to Kill).  Tracy is, in a word, unforgettable.