Spy in July: Live and Let Laugh

Bond producers Saltzman and Broccoli scored a major coup by luring Sean Connery back to the series for one last adventure—1973's Diamonds Are Forever. But that was always intended to be a one-shot deal. They needed a Bond for the future, and they found him in Roger Moore.

Moore, at the time, was best known for the British television series The Saint, which saw him playing a character similar to the debonair spy he'd soon become synonymous with. But his Bond would be different than Connery's; It had to be after Lazenby's failed attempt to win the public's heart through imitation. It's not totally evident in Live and Let Die, Moore's first Bond film, but the seeds are sown for a more farcical 007.

In some ways, Live and Let Die is a film in limbo. Compared to what I'll discuss below (and in the next entry in this series), it's a down-to-earth drama. Just look at his mission: Bust a Caribbean dictator, Dr. Kananga (a terrific Yaphet Kotto), who's knocking off British agents while running a major international drug smuggling operation. It's simple, straightforward stuff when the series' last film involved diamonds and giant space lasers.

That said, Live and Let Die is a Moore-era film through and through, from the airport chase scene to the way Kananga is ultimately dispatched of. It's a little ironic, then, that the most organic way to provide some humor—Q Branch—is left out here. The presence of the always great Desmond Llewelyn (who I haven't mentioned much of in these posts) is quite noticeable.

Moore himself shows signs of life, but it'll still be another film before he truly settles into the role. Opposite him is Jane Seymour, in her first major film, as Bond girl Solitaire. She's terrific; Ditto the eccentric cast of henchman composed of Geoffrey Holder (as voodoo prince Baron Samedi), Julius W. Harris (as Teehee, a modern-day Captain Hook), and Earl Jolly Brown (as the appropriately named Whisper).

The film would (deservedly, in my opinion) get into a bit of trouble for making every nefarious individual in the film black. Even Bond's first on-screen African-American love interest—the impossibly shrieky Rosie Carver (Gloria Hendry)—turns out to be a Kananga pawn. Then, there's J.W. Pepper (Clifton James), a Louisiana sheriff who's meant to be comic relief but calls every black person in the film "boy," which makes his extended scene more than a little uncomfortable.

You can't talk about Live and Let Die without mentioning Paul McCartney and Wings' all-time great Bond song, as well as the series' most impressive boat chase. Overall, it's probably middle-tier Bond, but one that's not hard to recommend.

Next up: The Man with the Golden Gun, a pretty pitiful effort, which feels even worse because it wastes one of the best villains in Bond history—Christopher Lee's Francisco Scaramanga. He's a little like Kananga in that he's suave and gentlemanly, and his mano a mano battle of wits with 007 is actually well-executed. Unfortunately, it's shoehorned into a larger plot about a solar-energy device with the power to change the world that's totally inane.

Moore still hasn't quite found his footing. His comedic timing and delivery is there, but he still occasionally reverts to Connery's brutality. See the scene in which he smacks around Maud Adams' Andrea Anders. There's no urgency in his threat to break her arm, which makes the whole exercise feel dumb.

Speaking of dumb, our Bond girl here is a fellow agent, Mary Goodnight (played by Swedish actress Britt Eckland). She's as bumbling as they come, and just one of the many hokey comedic elements that don't work. Some others: A kung fu fight against a pair of Asian schoolgirls, a car that flies, and the return of J.W. Pepper.

The locations—Hong Kong, Thailand, and some incredibly beautiful islands, presumably just off Thai the coast in the Andaman Sea—are incredible, and both the opening sequence and the climax take place in one of the series' best set pieces—Scaramanga's fun house killing field.

The Man with the Golden Gun was rushed into production (it came out in 1974, just a year after Live and Let Die), which probably hurt it some. It's Guy Hamilton's fourth and final time behind the camera for a Bond film, and his first out-and-out failure. For the next film, Lewis Gilbert would be brought back, and though his first effort (You Only Live Twice) was a miss, The Spy Who Loved Me is just brilliant.

This Bond movie is so good it makes me weak in the knees. It's one of the series' biggest films in terms of scale and it includes everything you want out of the franchise: Incredible set pieces, great action scenes, exotic locations, beautiful women, a menacing villain, an unforgettable henchman, and just the right comedic touch.

It's ironic that Gilbert is on hand to direct considering the plot is eerily similar to that of You Only Live Twice. Instead of swallowing up spaceships, however, this film's villain—the webbed-fingered billionaire Karl Stromberg (Curt Jurgens)—captures British and Soviet nuclear submarines. Joining Bond on the hunt to find these ships is Agent XXX (Barbara Bach), his most cunning Soviet counterpart.

There's a fascinating dynamic between the two because in the film's opening sequence (which is the hands-down best in Bond history, featuring the famous Union Jack parachute), 007 kills her boyfriend. She's initially unaware it was him, but vows to kill this mystery man as soon as she gets the chance. Of course, she finds out eventually and (somewhat awkwardly) informs Bond that when they catch Stromberg, she'll kill him.

Bond and XXX go from the Pyramids of Giza to the seas of Sardinia with Richard Kiel's Jaws tracking them every step of the way. This metal-toothed giant set a high bar for all future henchmen to live up to (Guess what? None of them do.) In fact, he's so good, he'd return in the next Bond film, Moonraker (but more on that film and his performance in it later...) Along the way, we'd see one of Bond's best vehicles (the Lotus Esprit "submarine car"), and Atlantis—one of cinema's grandest sets ever.

I've been a little hard on Moore so far, but he's totally in the zone here. The tone of The Spy Who Loved Me is perfect for what Moore has to offer. Bach isn't great, but her character is the first of its kind (a bad-ass Bond girl), and as such, quite memorable. Ultimately, the film has a few issues, but what works all comes together so perfectly, making this perhaps the quintessential Bond film.

I didn't realize I had so much to say about the beginning of the Roger Moore era, and though I intended on discussing Moonraker here, as well, I'll save that for my second and final Moore post. For now, here are my ratings of the three films discussed above:
Live and Let Die—Shaken
The Man with the Golden Gun—Stirred
The Spy Who Loved Me—Shaken

THE END
OF
"LIVE AND LET LAUGH"

JOHN GILPATRICK WILL RETURN
in
"MOORE THAN ANY OTHER"