The Soapboxx
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Do I Expect You To Talk? No, Mr Bond, But I Wouldn't Mind A Decent Song
Casino Royale, the 21st James Bond film and the first starring new chap on the block Daniel Craig, had its world premiere this week and, by all accounts, it's rather good.
At least, that's what the papers say. I haven't seen it myself. But I really hope it's true, as the hate campaign waged against Craig by the online community from the moment he was first announced as the new Bond was nothing short of absurd. Sitting here now, writing this, I hope the movie goes on to receive global acclaim and a gross of at least ten trillion dollars, if only to ridicule and dismiss that horrible collective of nerds and geeks. (He says, jotting down his thoughts on a movie he has yet to see on an Internet blog.)
However this new movie turns out, Ian Fleming's James Bond should never be underestimated, both as a character and as a force in the world of cinema. Prior to the release of Casino Royale, the twenty previous Bond films have a combined worldwide box office of almost four billion dollars, putting them second to only the Star Wars series as the highest-grossing franchise in history.
In the United Kingdom, three of the James Bond films - Live And Let Die, Diamonds Are Forever and The Spy Who Loved Me - hold court in a list of the five most-watched television broadcasts of a movie in history. Live And Let Die is number one all-time, with a staggering 23.5 million viewers. (Rounding out the countdown are Jaws, which is fair enough, and, for some God-awful reason, Crocodile Dundee.)
Everyone has an opinion on the best Bond, or their favourite (the two terms aren't necessarily common bedfellows.) For many, it's Sean Connery, who is the benchmark however you feel about the others. A frightening percentage seem to rate Roger Moore, who quite clearly was trumped by the two most underrated performers, George Lazenby and Timothy Dalton. Pierce Brosnan is somewhere in no-man's land; he looks the part, and is probably the most definitive portrayal in a cinematic sense, as he combines Connery's cool and charm with Moore's wit, but for some reason it never really added up. It didn't help that all four of his films were, at best, decidedly average.
Bob Holness? Rubbish. Or at least, he probably was, because I haven't listened to his 1956 South African radio adaptation of Moonraker, and neither has anybody else. But let's be realistic here. Smart money says Blockbusters was a step up.
There are certain things you expect from a Bond film. Some might say that they've almost become cliches, but I'm confident that we'd miss them if they were suddenly taken away. There's the character himself, of course, with all of his whims and fancies: his style, his cars, his one-liners and his inability to die, no matter how much thought and planning has gone into his demise by the main villain, who will, for the most part, be looking to either take over or destroy the world. The Bond Girls are there to catch both our eye and that of 007 himself, and each movie typically ends moments before one of them lies back and thinks of England.
But, all of these pale into relative significance when held up against the greatest part of every Bond feature, and that's the opening credits. Specifically, it's the now-familiar, but no less welcome, slightly arty montage of scantily clad (and by God, often naked) lovelies dancing, running, jumping, shooting guns, and, in Live And Let Die, suffering the awful but gripping fate of having their heads explode. No wonder it's the UK's number one film.
But what really makes these scenes is the music, which more often than not is absolutely fantastic. With the news this week that You Know My Name, sung by Chris Cornell (of ex-Soundgarden fame), and the official theme for Casino Royale, will not be included on the actual movie soundtrack, I started to wonder if there is a relationship between the quality of a 007 song and that of the movie itself. Hypothetically, if the official theme is, well, rubbish, is the film likely to be subpar as well?
I'll be honest. While I have an inkling that I might be right about this, I haven't done the research in advance. So, Gonzo-style, I'm going to whiz through the history of James Bond by film and by song, in a stream-of-consciousness kind of way, and, by golly, we'll get there together. Eventually. I warn you now, this is a mammoth piece, but the Bond franchise has been running for nearly forty-five years, and there are things that need to be said. To assist me, I'll be listening to The Best of Bond... James Bond, the definitive CD of all of the tunes, along the way.
(For the purposes of this analysis, I'll be ignoring the unofficial, non-EON Bond films, which are the TV and spoof versions of Casino Royale, and Sean Connery's reboot of Thunderball, Never Say Never Again.)
So, to begin. Up first, it's 1962, and Dr No. For many, the greatest Bond film of all time, and it would certainly make the top five on most aficionado's lists, and with good reason. It's a cracking film. And, of course, provided us with the seminal piece of 007 music: Monty Norman's James Bond Theme. Not a song as such, naturally, but it's an iconic bit of work and has snaked its way into not only every Bond film, but absolutely into popular culture, too. (This also marks the start of John Barry's contribution to the Bond scores; including Dr No, Barry would compose eleven of the first fourteen films.)
So we're on to a good start. Next, it's From Russia With Love, and it's 1963. Again, classic, classic Bond. Robert Shaw's Donovan Grant is one of the very best 007 villains, and Matt Munroe's vocal stands up to the task admirably. We're two for two.
Goldfinger, 1964, and the start of Shirley Bassey's reign as the Queen of the Bond theme. Goldfinger is a fantastic film and a fantastic song, even if the opening is a trifle camp (imagine Julian Clary stripping to it and you'll get my gist. I know I am.)
Three's a crowd. Thunderball, 1965. Perhaps not up to the standard of the previous films in a nitpicking cinematic sense, but it's a grand film nonetheless. And Tom Jones sings his enormous Welsh heart out, God bless him. And it's good stuff.
1967, You Only Live Twice. The plot is a bit un-PC now, and Connery does look a bit ridiculous as a Japanese, but there's nothing wrong with the movie at all. It even has Western cinema's first mainstream look at ninjas, for Christ's sake. And Nancy Sinatra's theme contains one of most beautiful melodies you will ever hear.
We're five for five, but this is where we simply must stop to catch our breath. Take a look back at that pentuple of spy movies. It's 007's finest work.
This is where Connery stepped down, and George Lazenby stepped up. And the boy done good. Many fans of the franchise consider 1969's On Her Majesty's Secret Service one of, and quite possibly the greatest of them all. Lazenby originally signed a seven-film contract, but quit on a wave of Bond criticism and suggestions that the series had run out of steam. Which is a bit of shame, as his Bond was not only good, but human. But somehow, history has resigned both Lazenby and the film to the phantom zone. Matters are made worse by the choice to return to a voiceless-theme for the title piece. It's a good piece of music, but if you ask somebody to hum it, they won't have a clue. So we'll kind of have to award ourselves a half mark here.
1971, and Connery is persuaded back for Diamonds Are Forever. Musically, now you're talking, as the Queen is back. Shirley Bassey's delivery is, without a doubt, brilliant. The film? Well, it's good, but probably Connery's worst official outing. But still good enough to stand up to the theory, I'd wager.
And then we enter the wilderness that is known as Roger Moore.
In 1973, Connery had almost quit for good, and the studio needed somebody to fill his shoes. Impressed with Moore's performance as the Bond-like Simon Templar in The Saint, he was given the nod, despite being 45-years old when he debuted in Live And Let Die. Which, you'll remember, is Blighty's all-time favourite movie. And, sure, it's fun and watchable, but quite frankly a lot of it is utter nonsense. The voodoo stuff never sat well with me at all and as for that chap with the robot hand? Well, the less said, the better, but you would have thought somebody in the effects department would have noticed it made his arm about a foot longer. Jane Seymour is, of course, lovely, but while Paul McCartney's song is a bit of a classic, I prefer the Guns N Roses version.
The Man With The Golden Gun (1974) is better, but it's a far cry from Connery's early work. It's just very hard to take a three-nippled assassin all that seriously. Lulu's theme song is pretty awful, too, and even for a Bond tune the lyrics are dire.
In 1977, Roger Moore was almost fifty, but somehow, The Spy Who Loved Me works. Not only that, it's rather good. It helps that we have the first appearance of Richard Kiel's Jaws, who, despite being utterly ridiculous when you stop to think about it, is a great character. Carly Simon's music is brilliant, too, even if one has to forgive the quite clearly forced inclusion of the film's title in the lyric. The best Moore outing by a long way.
Moonraker (1979), is poor. It tried to cash-in on the Star Wars craze (and box office) and failed dismally, delivering not-so special effects and a daft plot. Jaws was back, which was a plus, but even he was a shadow of his former self, and the film has the credit of being the only one in the franchise with a rubbish Shirley Bassey song.
1981's For Your Eyes Only is much better. Moore was 53, but he stepped up. The Academy Award-nominated Sheena Easton title song is a cracker. To date, Easton is the only singer to actually appear in the title credits.
Octopussy (1983) tried to cash in on the craze for... Fabergé Eggs, I'm guessing. Apart from that, I can't remember much about it at all. The theme, however, is rubbish, and criminally forgettable.
1985, and thankfully Moore's final turn. A View To A Kill is a notable drop in quality, which throws a spanner in the works of my hypothesis, as Duran Duran's theme is one of the very best. Okay, so the lyrics are bollocks and Simon Le Bon is a bit of a wanker, but that, as I believe the kids are referring to it these days, is a slammin' track.
The Timothy Dalton years, 1987-89. Dalton was, as I said above, massively underrated in the Bond role. He's far superior to Moore, and both of his films stand up in the franchise. The Living Daylights is a proper Bond film, and arguably the best since Thunderball. It's a shame, then, that A-ha's song is crap. So we'll scratch that one off of our list.
License To Kill, sung by Gladys Knight, is a much better song. But the film isn't as good. It's not at all bad, just a bit of a mess.
Dalton out, Pierce Brosnan steps in. At the time, this was widely applauded, as Brosnan was considered a natural choice. He had been trying to become James Bond since 1986 and was offered the lead in The Living Daylights, but was forced to turn it down due to his commitments to Remington Steele. The latter finished in 1987, and by 1994 Brosnan had signed on as Bond, eight years after originally being considered a near-automatic for the role.
If Roger Moore was a lousy Bond in a series of moderately enjoyable but mostly ineffective films, Brosnan is the opposite. His Bond is fine. Basically. He doesn't do anything particularly different, but he certainly looks the part, at least in light of what we've come to expect (perhaps less like Fleming's original vision.) He's handsome, smooth, and nicely polished.
The films, however, are shite.
Some people rave about Goldeneye (1995), but I'm not one of them. It's awful, and Tina Turner's theme, while delivered with her usual panache, is a bit too whiney for my tastes. (Goldeneye, incidentally, is named after Ian Fleming's Jamaican estate of the same name.)
And this pattern continues. Tomorrow Never Dies (1997), is entirely mediocre, and Sheryl Crowe's song is one of the worst. Garbage's The World Is Not Enough (1999) is better, and it's probably Brosnan's best, but it's still a bit dicey. Die Another Day (2002), sung by Madonna, is the worst James Bond theme to date. And the film is basically terrible, with Halle Berry's performance particularly notable for being absolutely and fundamentally awful.
Which brings us back to Daniel Craig and Casino Royale (2006, and I told you we'd get there eventually.) Now, I haven't seen the film, but as I said, I have heard the theme. And I'm slightly concerned, as the best thing I can say about it is that it's a bit of a grower. There's nothing wrong with it, per se, but it just doesn't really do anything new. Basically, you've heard it all before, years ago. And as my hypothesis has proven, this simply will not do, especially in a film that is trying to kick-start a dying franchise. And for Craig and the legion of Bond fans (and converts) out there, that doesn't bode well at all. For once, in both the film and the theme, I think we were all hoping to be stirred.
Not shaken.
At least, that's what the papers say. I haven't seen it myself. But I really hope it's true, as the hate campaign waged against Craig by the online community from the moment he was first announced as the new Bond was nothing short of absurd. Sitting here now, writing this, I hope the movie goes on to receive global acclaim and a gross of at least ten trillion dollars, if only to ridicule and dismiss that horrible collective of nerds and geeks. (He says, jotting down his thoughts on a movie he has yet to see on an Internet blog.)
However this new movie turns out, Ian Fleming's James Bond should never be underestimated, both as a character and as a force in the world of cinema. Prior to the release of Casino Royale, the twenty previous Bond films have a combined worldwide box office of almost four billion dollars, putting them second to only the Star Wars series as the highest-grossing franchise in history.
In the United Kingdom, three of the James Bond films - Live And Let Die, Diamonds Are Forever and The Spy Who Loved Me - hold court in a list of the five most-watched television broadcasts of a movie in history. Live And Let Die is number one all-time, with a staggering 23.5 million viewers. (Rounding out the countdown are Jaws, which is fair enough, and, for some God-awful reason, Crocodile Dundee.)
Everyone has an opinion on the best Bond, or their favourite (the two terms aren't necessarily common bedfellows.) For many, it's Sean Connery, who is the benchmark however you feel about the others. A frightening percentage seem to rate Roger Moore, who quite clearly was trumped by the two most underrated performers, George Lazenby and Timothy Dalton. Pierce Brosnan is somewhere in no-man's land; he looks the part, and is probably the most definitive portrayal in a cinematic sense, as he combines Connery's cool and charm with Moore's wit, but for some reason it never really added up. It didn't help that all four of his films were, at best, decidedly average.
Bob Holness? Rubbish. Or at least, he probably was, because I haven't listened to his 1956 South African radio adaptation of Moonraker, and neither has anybody else. But let's be realistic here. Smart money says Blockbusters was a step up.
There are certain things you expect from a Bond film. Some might say that they've almost become cliches, but I'm confident that we'd miss them if they were suddenly taken away. There's the character himself, of course, with all of his whims and fancies: his style, his cars, his one-liners and his inability to die, no matter how much thought and planning has gone into his demise by the main villain, who will, for the most part, be looking to either take over or destroy the world. The Bond Girls are there to catch both our eye and that of 007 himself, and each movie typically ends moments before one of them lies back and thinks of England.
But, all of these pale into relative significance when held up against the greatest part of every Bond feature, and that's the opening credits. Specifically, it's the now-familiar, but no less welcome, slightly arty montage of scantily clad (and by God, often naked) lovelies dancing, running, jumping, shooting guns, and, in Live And Let Die, suffering the awful but gripping fate of having their heads explode. No wonder it's the UK's number one film.
But what really makes these scenes is the music, which more often than not is absolutely fantastic. With the news this week that You Know My Name, sung by Chris Cornell (of ex-Soundgarden fame), and the official theme for Casino Royale, will not be included on the actual movie soundtrack, I started to wonder if there is a relationship between the quality of a 007 song and that of the movie itself. Hypothetically, if the official theme is, well, rubbish, is the film likely to be subpar as well?
I'll be honest. While I have an inkling that I might be right about this, I haven't done the research in advance. So, Gonzo-style, I'm going to whiz through the history of James Bond by film and by song, in a stream-of-consciousness kind of way, and, by golly, we'll get there together. Eventually. I warn you now, this is a mammoth piece, but the Bond franchise has been running for nearly forty-five years, and there are things that need to be said. To assist me, I'll be listening to The Best of Bond... James Bond, the definitive CD of all of the tunes, along the way.
(For the purposes of this analysis, I'll be ignoring the unofficial, non-EON Bond films, which are the TV and spoof versions of Casino Royale, and Sean Connery's reboot of Thunderball, Never Say Never Again.)
So, to begin. Up first, it's 1962, and Dr No. For many, the greatest Bond film of all time, and it would certainly make the top five on most aficionado's lists, and with good reason. It's a cracking film. And, of course, provided us with the seminal piece of 007 music: Monty Norman's James Bond Theme. Not a song as such, naturally, but it's an iconic bit of work and has snaked its way into not only every Bond film, but absolutely into popular culture, too. (This also marks the start of John Barry's contribution to the Bond scores; including Dr No, Barry would compose eleven of the first fourteen films.)
So we're on to a good start. Next, it's From Russia With Love, and it's 1963. Again, classic, classic Bond. Robert Shaw's Donovan Grant is one of the very best 007 villains, and Matt Munroe's vocal stands up to the task admirably. We're two for two.
Goldfinger, 1964, and the start of Shirley Bassey's reign as the Queen of the Bond theme. Goldfinger is a fantastic film and a fantastic song, even if the opening is a trifle camp (imagine Julian Clary stripping to it and you'll get my gist. I know I am.)
Three's a crowd. Thunderball, 1965. Perhaps not up to the standard of the previous films in a nitpicking cinematic sense, but it's a grand film nonetheless. And Tom Jones sings his enormous Welsh heart out, God bless him. And it's good stuff.
1967, You Only Live Twice. The plot is a bit un-PC now, and Connery does look a bit ridiculous as a Japanese, but there's nothing wrong with the movie at all. It even has Western cinema's first mainstream look at ninjas, for Christ's sake. And Nancy Sinatra's theme contains one of most beautiful melodies you will ever hear.
We're five for five, but this is where we simply must stop to catch our breath. Take a look back at that pentuple of spy movies. It's 007's finest work.
This is where Connery stepped down, and George Lazenby stepped up. And the boy done good. Many fans of the franchise consider 1969's On Her Majesty's Secret Service one of, and quite possibly the greatest of them all. Lazenby originally signed a seven-film contract, but quit on a wave of Bond criticism and suggestions that the series had run out of steam. Which is a bit of shame, as his Bond was not only good, but human. But somehow, history has resigned both Lazenby and the film to the phantom zone. Matters are made worse by the choice to return to a voiceless-theme for the title piece. It's a good piece of music, but if you ask somebody to hum it, they won't have a clue. So we'll kind of have to award ourselves a half mark here.
1971, and Connery is persuaded back for Diamonds Are Forever. Musically, now you're talking, as the Queen is back. Shirley Bassey's delivery is, without a doubt, brilliant. The film? Well, it's good, but probably Connery's worst official outing. But still good enough to stand up to the theory, I'd wager.
And then we enter the wilderness that is known as Roger Moore.
In 1973, Connery had almost quit for good, and the studio needed somebody to fill his shoes. Impressed with Moore's performance as the Bond-like Simon Templar in The Saint, he was given the nod, despite being 45-years old when he debuted in Live And Let Die. Which, you'll remember, is Blighty's all-time favourite movie. And, sure, it's fun and watchable, but quite frankly a lot of it is utter nonsense. The voodoo stuff never sat well with me at all and as for that chap with the robot hand? Well, the less said, the better, but you would have thought somebody in the effects department would have noticed it made his arm about a foot longer. Jane Seymour is, of course, lovely, but while Paul McCartney's song is a bit of a classic, I prefer the Guns N Roses version.
The Man With The Golden Gun (1974) is better, but it's a far cry from Connery's early work. It's just very hard to take a three-nippled assassin all that seriously. Lulu's theme song is pretty awful, too, and even for a Bond tune the lyrics are dire.
In 1977, Roger Moore was almost fifty, but somehow, The Spy Who Loved Me works. Not only that, it's rather good. It helps that we have the first appearance of Richard Kiel's Jaws, who, despite being utterly ridiculous when you stop to think about it, is a great character. Carly Simon's music is brilliant, too, even if one has to forgive the quite clearly forced inclusion of the film's title in the lyric. The best Moore outing by a long way.
Moonraker (1979), is poor. It tried to cash-in on the Star Wars craze (and box office) and failed dismally, delivering not-so special effects and a daft plot. Jaws was back, which was a plus, but even he was a shadow of his former self, and the film has the credit of being the only one in the franchise with a rubbish Shirley Bassey song.
1981's For Your Eyes Only is much better. Moore was 53, but he stepped up. The Academy Award-nominated Sheena Easton title song is a cracker. To date, Easton is the only singer to actually appear in the title credits.
Octopussy (1983) tried to cash in on the craze for... Fabergé Eggs, I'm guessing. Apart from that, I can't remember much about it at all. The theme, however, is rubbish, and criminally forgettable.
1985, and thankfully Moore's final turn. A View To A Kill is a notable drop in quality, which throws a spanner in the works of my hypothesis, as Duran Duran's theme is one of the very best. Okay, so the lyrics are bollocks and Simon Le Bon is a bit of a wanker, but that, as I believe the kids are referring to it these days, is a slammin' track.
The Timothy Dalton years, 1987-89. Dalton was, as I said above, massively underrated in the Bond role. He's far superior to Moore, and both of his films stand up in the franchise. The Living Daylights is a proper Bond film, and arguably the best since Thunderball. It's a shame, then, that A-ha's song is crap. So we'll scratch that one off of our list.
License To Kill, sung by Gladys Knight, is a much better song. But the film isn't as good. It's not at all bad, just a bit of a mess.
Dalton out, Pierce Brosnan steps in. At the time, this was widely applauded, as Brosnan was considered a natural choice. He had been trying to become James Bond since 1986 and was offered the lead in The Living Daylights, but was forced to turn it down due to his commitments to Remington Steele. The latter finished in 1987, and by 1994 Brosnan had signed on as Bond, eight years after originally being considered a near-automatic for the role.
If Roger Moore was a lousy Bond in a series of moderately enjoyable but mostly ineffective films, Brosnan is the opposite. His Bond is fine. Basically. He doesn't do anything particularly different, but he certainly looks the part, at least in light of what we've come to expect (perhaps less like Fleming's original vision.) He's handsome, smooth, and nicely polished.
The films, however, are shite.
Some people rave about Goldeneye (1995), but I'm not one of them. It's awful, and Tina Turner's theme, while delivered with her usual panache, is a bit too whiney for my tastes. (Goldeneye, incidentally, is named after Ian Fleming's Jamaican estate of the same name.)
And this pattern continues. Tomorrow Never Dies (1997), is entirely mediocre, and Sheryl Crowe's song is one of the worst. Garbage's The World Is Not Enough (1999) is better, and it's probably Brosnan's best, but it's still a bit dicey. Die Another Day (2002), sung by Madonna, is the worst James Bond theme to date. And the film is basically terrible, with Halle Berry's performance particularly notable for being absolutely and fundamentally awful.
Which brings us back to Daniel Craig and Casino Royale (2006, and I told you we'd get there eventually.) Now, I haven't seen the film, but as I said, I have heard the theme. And I'm slightly concerned, as the best thing I can say about it is that it's a bit of a grower. There's nothing wrong with it, per se, but it just doesn't really do anything new. Basically, you've heard it all before, years ago. And as my hypothesis has proven, this simply will not do, especially in a film that is trying to kick-start a dying franchise. And for Craig and the legion of Bond fans (and converts) out there, that doesn't bode well at all. For once, in both the film and the theme, I think we were all hoping to be stirred.
Not shaken.
Comments:
Isn't We Have All The Time In The World widely taken as the theme for OHMSS? Such a well-done ending.
# posted by 
: 3:00 PM
: 3:00 PM
The title music, being that which is used in the credits, is On Her Majesty's Secret Service. We Have All The Time In The World is class, though.
I know, I know! But Bond sites cite it as the 'theme' even if it's at the end and not the beginning. Non -traditional Bond in more than one sense?
# posted by : 3:47 PM
: 3:47 PM
I've hardly seen any Bond films (surprise, surprise) but my brother is a huge Bond fan and so I probably know every lyric and nuance to every single Bond theme.
I would love to catch up on Bond but it's probably a bit late. I did see the last couple at the cinema but guess that without the cultural weight of the other films that most other people have it just doesn't have quite the same meaning.
I have to say that I quite like the A-Ha song. And I absolutely love Garbage's theme as well. Not sure about the new theme yet but do plan to watch the film.
I would love to catch up on Bond but it's probably a bit late. I did see the last couple at the cinema but guess that without the cultural weight of the other films that most other people have it just doesn't have quite the same meaning.
I have to say that I quite like the A-Ha song. And I absolutely love Garbage's theme as well. Not sure about the new theme yet but do plan to watch the film.
# posted by : 12:27 PM
: 12:27 PMRecent Posts
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