Die Another Day

Not rated yet!
Director
Lee Tamahori
Runtime
2 h 13 min
Release Date
17 November 2002
Genres
Adventure, Action, Thriller
Overview
Bond takes on a North Korean leader who undergoes DNA replacement procedures that allow him to assume different identities. American agent, Jinx Johnson assists Bond in his attempt to thwart the villain's plans to exploit a satellite that is powered by solar energy.
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  • Die Another Day - Movie Review
    Movies Genre:  Action, Adventure Rating:  PG-13 (for action violence and sexuality) Release Date:  November 22, 2002 Actors:  Pierce Brosnan, Dame Judi Dench, John Cleese, Halle Berry, Rick Yune, Toby Stephens, Rosamund Pike, Samantha Bond, Will Yun Lee, Madonna (cameo) Director:  Lee Tamahori googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display('gpt-ad-1'); }); Special Notes:  With $2.5 million spent on 11 identical Aston Martins and over $100 million spent on every kind of gadget, gizmo, explosion and expensive car you can imagine, this twentieth, 40th-anniversary movie is the costliest Bond film ever made.  Still, the franchise seemingly remains indestructible (each of the last three has grossed more than $300 million worldwide), which makes 007 a pretty formidable 40-year-old.  Remember all of you old Bond fans, this movie is a potpourri of all the early Bond movies with a sly wink to 007's past. Plot:  During a dangerous mission in North Korea, Bond's (Brosnan) cover is blown as he proceeds with his assignment to kill a general's war-crazy and neurotic son.  James is then imprisoned and tortured for 14 months, and released in exchange for a North Korean terrorist Zao (Yune), the man who knows who betrayed him.  Bond is put under suspicion by the NSA for "selling out" and escapes to single-handedly track Zao and find the killer who betrayed him.  Bond flies from Hong Kong, to Cuba, to London, and finally southeast Iceland, in a complicated plot that involves diamonds, a DNA /"facial mutation" process, a satellite laser that could destroy the earth, a new power hungry wannabe leader and an old enemy who returns from the dead.  On his way to getting to the truth he meets two beautiful women who are with the NSA, Jinx (Halle Berry) and Miranda Frost (Rosamund Pike), and both give Bond pain and pleasure as he fights to destroy a madman. Good:  This 20th Bond film winks to the 007's of the past with Berry filling the role of a female Bond and wearing a deja vu bikini like the one Ursula Andress wore in the first 007 flick, Dr. No.  And in typical Bond fashion, there's an interesting (and very long) credit roll at the beginning with Madonna singing the title tune to implied nude "ice and flame" dancing women figurines swimming, diving and jumping, in and out of scenes while Bond is tortured.  Despite the fact that her song is sort of annoying and didn't impress me (nobody does it better than Carly Simon), the Material Girl later appears in the movie and does a decent job.  One of the most impressive scenes in the movie features a sword fight between Bond and Gustav Graves (Stephens), choreographed by Bob Anderson who was responsible for the sword fights in Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Zorro, and Highlander movies.  It's one of the more impressive moments in the film.  Since this is the 40th anniversary of James Bond, there are constant reminders of the old 007 movies sprinkled throughout.  You can spot the old jet pack, the crocodile submarine, the famous bikini, the old "Goldfinger"-style Laser and even the book that Ian Fleming got the name "James Bond" from.  One of the more spectacular and unusual scenes comes mid-movie in the form of a five-minute high-speed car chase on ice--as in Iceland.  The movie starts out really well because Brosnan gets to act while being tortured, beaten down, and later disowned by M and his fellow spies.  It's a different side of Bond we don't normally get to see and I liked the different feel.  But by mid-movie he's back to his old formula style of Bond action with little time for any dialogue much less anything with depth.  Beyond her impressive beauty (despite a bad hairdo that looks like a nappy bathing cap), the Oscar-winning actress Berry does a decent job portraying the "female Bond" with what little script she was given to work with.  She's believable as she fights and does her "spy stuff" but she hardly gets to exchange much more than witty barbs between she and Brosnan.  John Cleese provides the real humor and much needed comic relief, delivering one of the more memorable lines in the movie: Bond:  "You know you're cleverer than you look!" Q:  "Better than looking cleverer than you are." Let me remind you that this is a Bond movie, so go expecting the mantra to be girls, gadgets, lots of action and amazing stunts.  In fact, there's so much going on that it's almost too much action which made the movie seem longer than it is--I think I had sensory overload by the end.  I did have to laugh as I left my screening because I actually heard some critics comment (and I've already read some reviews) that this movie had some "improbable, implausible and unrealistic, stunts and spy gear" (like the Aston Martin with an ''adaptive camouflage'' button).  Duh!!!  D'ya think?  I would be concerned if any of you would go to this movie thinking any of the bizarre plot, gadgets, toys or even behavior should play as "realistic" or even make sense.  I mean seriously folks!  After all, isn't that why this franchise has lasted for 40 years, because it's complete fantasy and mindless fun for adults? Bad:  I did notice that Die Another Day didn't offer up the usual array of cool gadgets (like other films) and a few of the special-effects looked cheesy and were rather under-whelming as well.  And I have to admit, I wasn't that impressed with the new "bad guys" because they weren't as menacing or threatening as much as just plain evil.  With all of the action going on in almost every scene, apparently there was no time for any good writing or dialogue.  Sure there are several funny one-liners but the sexual double-entendres between James and his leading ladies is so forced it's almost laughable and in fact, it's borderline stupid.  Aside from some mild language, it's the steamy sex scenes and violence that should have earned this film an R instead of PG-13.  There's no way 13-year-olds should be watching Brosnan and Berry "shagging" in between the sheets with a lot of motion, bare skin and heavy breathing--it's pretty steamy compared to other Bond movies and there are a couple of scenes with other women as well.  The violence consists of almost every kind of death imaginable with men shot, blown up, blown out of a plane, tortured, lasered through the head, stabbed and drowned, not to mention the women that fight each other (one gets stabbed in the chest).  So this is not a tame or mild 007 flick. Bottom Line:  Parents, this is an adult movie with mature sex scenes and themes, so don't go thinking it's kid friendly.  Overall, Die Another Day is an entertaining, action-packed "popcorn" movie brougth to you by a studio that wants and needs young fans (like the ones who gave XXX its big opening) to support the franchise--thus the PG-13 rating.  This may not be the best Bond film ever made, but it definitely feels like the longest and most exhausting one with a complicated plot, plenty of incredible special effects, non-stop action and amazing stunts--and of course, the very cool Brosnan in a role he was apparently born for. googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display('gpt-ad-2'); }); if (gptClientWidth >= 992 && gptClientWidth <= 1000000) googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display('gpt-ad-3'); });   ]]>
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  • Die Another Day
    Movies from Film Forum, 11/27/02For those seeking action instead of academics, James Bond is back to save the world once again. Die Another Day is being celebrated by mainstream critics as the best Bond film in many years, high praise for director Lee Tamahori. But religious press critics are as dismayed as always by Bond's womanizing and violent measures.This time, Bond is betrayed and abandoned by his colleagues and left to fend for himself as a conflict rises between North and South Korea. He is helped by a mysterious woman called Jinx (Halle Berry, in a role that may inspire the first Bond spin-off franchise). The usual players return, including Judi Dench and John Cleese.Gerri Pare (Catholic News) says, "With Tamahori at the helm, the action and intrigue unreel at a furious pace, with death-defying stunts so preposterous one can only laugh and go with the flow. It's unquestionably mindless escapist entertainment, but entertain it does. It is of concern that all the mayhem and explosions are made to look exciting but, since it appears much more fantastic than realistic, it isn't as objectionable as gritty, in-your-face violence."Bob Smithouser (Focus on the Family) says, "The movie may be a rush, but at what cost to fans who continue to have Bond's warped values (namely that promiscuity is cool and merciless bloodshed heroic) pounded into their psyches?" googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display('gpt-ad-1'); }); Holly McClure (Crosswalk) tells parents, "This is an adult movie with mature sex scenes and themes, so don't go thinking it's kid friendly. Overall, Die Another Day is an entertaining, action-packed 'popcorn' movie. This may not be the best Bond film ever made, but it definitely feels like the longest and most exhausting one with a complicated plot, plenty of incredible special effects, non-stop action and amazing stunts—and of course, the very cool Brosnan in a role he was apparently born for."Michael Medved says, "Tahamori brings a refreshing approach to this venerable series by offering action scenes that emphasize character along with eye-popping stunts. This James Bond flick could never (and should never) qualify as gritty realism, but for all its adventurous and exotic elements it never tilts over into outlandish self-parody.Movieguide's critic is impressed by "great direction by Lee Tamahori, fantastic stunts and wonderful-looking special effects." But he adds, "This movie is not a film for impressionable youngsters, or teenagers, however! Like all Bond films, it tells young boys, "If you are smart, strong, handsome or pretty, resourceful, and willing to take huge risks, then you will be rewarded with the three G's – Girls, Gold and Glory."" googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display('gpt-ad-2'); }); if (gptClientWidth >= 992 && gptClientWidth <= 1000000) googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display('gpt-ad-3'); }); Mainstream critics hailed this as a step-up from the franchise norm. Owen Gleiberman (Entertainment Weekly) calls it "the savviest and most exciting Bond adventure in years, and that's because there's actually something at stake in it. No, I don't mean the fate of the world (as if there were doubt about the outcome of that), but the fate of James Bond himself." ]]>
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PJ Media Staff3
PJ Media



(Reviewers' Site/Bio)

  • The 10 Most Remarkable Bond Girls of All Time
    Lifestyle Editor's Note: This article is part of an ongoing series by Walter Hudson exploring the James Bond series. Also check out the previous installments: "The 10 Most Memorable James Bond Henchmen" and "The Top 10 Most Worthy Bond Villains." We recently learned that French actress Léa Seydoux will join Daniel Craig and much of the cast from Skyfall as a femme fatale in the 24th James Bond film. Seydoux played a similar role in Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol. She joins a sisterhood of glamorous and seductive women who have led Bond astray or succumbed to his charms over five decades of film.When tasked with ranking Bond’s female companions, the criteria I chose were more than just beauty or sex appeal. Every Bond girl has those. These are the women who most impacted the course of the franchise, who marked key moments, set strong precedents, or played a profound role in shaping Bond’s character. Here are the 10 most remarkable Bond girls of all time. var dataLayer = window.dataLayer = window.dataLayer || []; dataLayer.push({ 'videoName': 'Die Another Day Movie CLIP - Jinx (2002) HD', 'videoType': 'Curated' }); 10. JinxDie Another Day marked a significant moment in the franchise’s history. The film was released on the 40th anniversary of Dr. No, the first Bond adventure. It was the 20th film in the series. It also served as the swan song for actor Pierce Brosnan, who had successfully reinvigorated the character after the longest lull in the series’ history.Such a moment calls for a Bond girl of remarkable stature, a known quantity whose beauty and talent separate her from the pack of interchangeable consorts. Halle Berry fit the bill, lending the perfect balance of snark and sexy to end the Brosnan era. class="pages"> https://pjmedia.com/lifestyle/2014/10/10/the-10-most-remarkable-bond-girls-of-all-time/ previous Page 1 of 10 next   ]]>
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  • The Top 10 Most Worthy Bond Villains
    Lifestyle A hero proves only as remarkable as the obstacle he overcomes. The challenge with a character like James Bond is developing adversaries who can conceivably defeat him. If we don’t believe that Bond might fail, or accept a given foe as Bond’s potential match, then his eventual victory falls flat.Over the course of 23 films spanning nearly five decades, Bond has encountered a wide variety of adversaries. Today we focus on the masterminds, the ultimate villains who hatched fiendish plans and expected Mr. Bond to die. A future list will rank the best and worst henchmen of the franchise, many of whom upstage their bosses. For now, here are the top 10 most worthy James Bond villains. class="pages"> https://pjmedia.com/lifestyle/2014/9/1/top-10-most-worthy-bond-villains/ previous Page 1 of 11 next   ]]>
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    (Review Source)
  • The 5 Best and 5 Worst James Bond Theme Songs
    (”Die Another Day” is briefly mentioned in this.)
    Lifestyle Fans of the James Bond films look forward to the theme songs as much as anything else. There's a thrill to hearing a new 007 theme over the movie's creative, sexy title sequences. The theme songs have set the tone for Bond in 19 of the 22 films in the series.We've seen 007 theme songs that range from the low-key (Nancy Sinatra's "You Only Live Twice" in 1967) to the heavy-hitting (Chris Cornell's "You Know My Name" in 2006) to the truly bizarre (I'm looking at you, Jack White & Alicia Keys). No matter how good or bad the song, a Bond theme is an integral part of the experience.In honor of the 50th anniversary of the James Bond franchise, I present to you the five best theme songs of the series, followed by the five worst. A couple of years ago I shared my own personal favorites on my website, but with this list I'm looking at the songs with critical and historical eyes.5. Louis Armstrong, “We Have All The Time In The World,” from On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969)On Her Majesty’s Secret Service stands as a bit of an anomaly among Bond movies. The film marked George Lazenby’s only appearance as 007, and the plot centered around eternal bachelor Bond getting married and becoming a widower. It’s also one of only three entries in the series not to have a song over the opening credits -- the other ones were Dr. No and From Russia With Love. Instead, the beautiful “We Have All The Time In The World” plays during a romantic sequence later on in the film. var dataLayer = window.dataLayer = window.dataLayer || []; dataLayer.push({ 'videoName': 'On Her Majesty's Secret Service - We Have All The Time In The World', 'videoType': 'Curated' }); Composer John Barry chose Louis Armstrong to perform the ballad, and Barry later picked it as one of his two favorite Bond theme songs, both for the beauty of the music and the pleasure of working with the jazz legend.“We Have All The Time In The World” has endured as a favorite, especially among the Brits. Artists as diverse as Iggy Pop, the Puppini Sisters, and Michael Ball have covered the song, and respondents to a 2005 poll ranked it as the third most popular wedding song in the United Kingdom. I even read a few years back where some British churches used the song in worship services. The song might not spring to mind as a classic Bond theme, but Armstrong still provided a rare moment of grace.4. Tom Jones, “Thunderball,” from Thunderball (1965)The second song to appear over the title sequence of a Bond film has an interesting history. Initially, Barry and lyricist Leslie Bricusse penned a song titled “Mr. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang,” named for an Italian journalist’s nickname for 007. United Artists balked, insisting that the song have the same title as the movie. Barry teamed up with Don Black to rush out a new title song. var dataLayer = window.dataLayer = window.dataLayer || []; dataLayer.push({ 'videoName': 'Thunderball Opening Title Sequence', 'videoType': 'Curated' }); Johnny Cash also submitted a song but the studio rejected it. Check it out here.Tom Jones gave one of his bravura performances on “Thunderball” but not without paying a price. Jones passed out after belting the climactic high note. Years later he said:I closed my eyes and I held the note for so long when I opened my eyes the room was spinning.“Thunderball” continued a new tradition: dramatic title songs that set the tone for the whole film. class="pages"> https://pjmedia.com/lifestyle/2012/3/29/the-5-best-and-5-worst-james-bond-theme-songs/ previous Page 1 of 4 next   ]]>
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Counter Currents Staff4
Counter Currents Publishing



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  • The Importance of James Bond

    [1]10,747 words

    The James Bond films turn fifty this year, an event commemorated by the eagerly-anticipated release of the 23rd Eon Productions 007 epic Skyfall.

    The Broccoli family say they will keep making these films as long as audiences still want to see them. Since the Broccoli’s at this point have more money than God, we can be sure that this is entirely a labor of love (as Rosa Klebb might say, running her bony fingers through our hair). To date, the Bond films have grossed $5 billion (Bond is the second highest grossing film series of all time, after Harry Potter). And the books have sold around 100 million copies.

    What can explain why these films have endured for half a century and are bigger now than ever before? (Bond himself, of course, has been around longer than that: the first Ian Fleming Bond novel – Casino Royale [2] – was published in 1953.) I’m going to try to explain this – but, as usual, the real explanation is a far cry from what most people (especially critics) think it is.

    Sex, Sadism, and Snobbery?

    Let’s begin with the noteworthy fact that both the Bond novels and films have always pissed off the right people, and for the right reasons.

    [3]

    Ian Fleming

    Attacks on Bond have come from both Left and Right. From the Left Bond has been accused – correctly – of sexism, racism, heterosexism (aka homophobia), classism, lookism, elitism, imperialism, and much else. This Leftist critique is still regularly trotted out. Just four years ago the BBC’s online news magazine published a piece asking “Is James Bond Loathsome? [4]” The piece quotes one professorial authority who proclaims “Ideologically, none of us should like the Bond films. They are sexist, heterosexist, xenophobic, everything that is not politically correct. Either the audiences don’t notice these ideological issues or the films provide a different kind of pleasure.” (A third possibility: perhaps the very political incorrectness of the Bond films is the source of that “different kind of pleasure.”)

    The Kremlin itself weighed in on the first Bond film, Dr. No [5] (1962) condemning it as capitalist propaganda. A more mainstream Leftist critic, Cyril Connolly in The Sunday Times, said that Fleming’s novel You Only Live Twice [6] was “reactionary, sentimental, square, the Bond-image flails its way through the middle-brow masses, a relaxation to the great, a stimulus to the humble, the only common denominator between Kennedy and Oswald.” (Both Kennedy and Oswald were readers of Fleming.)

    In the ’50s and ’60s, those on the Right tended to complain mostly about Bond’s amorality. They deplored the “sex” (such as it was) in the novels and films, the “hedonism,” and the callous disregard for human life. They found it shocking that an assassin – a man with a “licence to kill” (!) – could be romanticized and regarded as a hero. Indeed, in retrospect this actually is rather shocking – but something we take completely for granted today. Bond was seen as a particularly bad influence on little boys. The Guardian’s reviewer remarked that the second Bond film, From Russia With Love [7] (1963) was “highly immoral in every imaginable way; it is neither uplifting, instructive nor life-enhancing.” (Though he admitted it was “fun.”) Predictably the Vatican condemned both the books and the films. But, oh, what a difference five decades makes! Just the other day the official Vatican newspaper L’Osservatore Romano gave Skyfall two thumbs up [8]. (This made international news.)

    However, the classic conservative critique of Bond came from the pen of none other than Paul Johnson. Writing in The New Statesmen, he summed Bond up with the words “Sex, Sadism, and Snobbery.” Johnson was actually reviewing Fleming’s 1958 novel Dr. No [9]. This now-famous review began with the line, “I have just finished reading what is without doubt the nastiest book I have ever read.” It was actually the first time Fleming had come in for any major criticism, and Johnson opened the floodgates. For years afterwards those three words – sex, sadism, and snobbery – would be quoted again and again, as a derisive way of dismissing both Bond and his creator.

    [10]

    Sexism?

    Sex? Well, yes. Of a kind. Bond does wind up bedding women quite a lot, and without any moral compunction. But Fleming doesn’t treat us to the gory, bedroom details (and there is very little humping in the Bond films). What Johnson and others found offensive was really the attitude toward the whole thing. For example, Fleming notes that Bond has a penchant for affairs with married women, apparently because there’s little chance of emotional entanglement – something about which much is made in the 2006 film of Casino Royale [11]. In the novel, written 53 years earlier, Bond muses that “Women were for recreation.”

    And then there are all those “Bond girls” with names like Honey Rider, Mary Goodnight, and – of course – Pussy Galore. That last one still takes the breath away, even after all these years. What an audacious, salacious old bugger that Fleming was! Then there are the names invented just for the films: Sylvia Trench (I’m convinced that’s a dirty one, but others may disagree), Plenty O’Toole (“Named after your father, perhaps?” quips Bond), Holly Goodhead, Octopussy, and Xenia Onatopp. In the films they’re all incarnated in jutting, jiggling, Technicolor pulchritude. The novels are more conservative. Fleming described Dr. No’s Honey Rider as having a boy’s bottom. This prompted his friend Nöel Coward (a real old bugger) to write to him, “I know that we are all becoming progressively more broad-minded nowadays but really, old chap, what could you have been thinking of?”

    Sadism? Well, yes. And it’s actually more interesting and more imaginative than the sex. In the very first novel, the villain strips Bond naked and repeatedly assaults his testicles with a carpet beater. (A scene lovingly recreated in the recent film version, though with a rope instead of a carpet beater.) In the second novel, Live and Let Die [12] (1954), the villain arranges for the lower extremities of Bond’s best friend to be nibbled away by a shark. The still-living Felix Leiter is then found with a note that reads “He disagreed with something that ate him.” (This also found its way into the films, though in 1989’s Licence To Kill [13]. [1]) In the literary Dr. No, Honey Rider is staked out on a Caribbean island to await the arrival of flesh-eating crabs. And the list just goes on and on. In general, the novels are far more sadistic than the films.

    Snobbery? Yes, I’m afraid so. And here things become rather ridiculous. Fleming spends pages describing Bond’s taste in spirits, suits, shirts, shoes, ties, pajamas (yes, he wears pj’s), shampoo, cars, and even eggs. Bond insists that his egg be boiled for precisely three minutes. And it must be a speckled brown egg laid by a French Marans hen. (I am not kidding you.) The egg must be served with two slices of whole-wheat toast, and a pat of Jersey butter accompanied by Tiptree “Little Scarlet” strawberry jelly, Cooper’s Vintage Oxford Marmalade, and Norwegian Heather Honey from Fortnum’s. Should the eggs be scrambled, they must be served with smoked salmon and champagne. But not just any champagne: Taittinger’s.

    We are supposed to be left with the impression that Bond is a man of very discerning tastes. The impression we are actually left with is that Bond is a pretentious middle class snob trying to put on airs. This kind of thing must have seemed very exotic to the reading public of Great Britain in the 1950s, with post-war austerity still a very vivid memory. And it must have seemed exotic and teddibly British to American readers. But nowadays any yahoo with a wireless connection can order a jar of Frank Coopers Vintage Oxford Marmalade [14] on Amazon.com and get it delivered in two days. And he will probably think it inferior to Smucker’s. (And he’ll probably be right.)

    The classic example, however, is the vodka martini, shaken not stirred. This is how the recipe for the Bond martini is stated in just about every film, but the actual Bond Martini is a little more complicated. Here’s how it first appears in Chapter Seven of Fleming’s Casino Royale:

    “A dry Martini,” he said. “One. In a deep champagne goblet.”

    “Oui, Monsieur.”

    “Just a moment. Three measures of Gordon’s, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it’s ice cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon-peel. Got it?”

    Yes, but why shake it? And why be so particular about not stirring it? Does it really make a difference? Believe it or not, this issue has actually prompted a scientific study [15]. The Department of Biochemistry at the University of Western Ontario found that a shaken martini has more antioxidants than a stirred one. So perhaps Bond is just much more health-conscious than we had originally thought. All kidding aside, he finally comes to his senses in the 2006 Casino Royale. Asked by a bartender if he wants his vodka martini shaken or stirred, Bond replies “Do I look like I give a damn?”

    So, yes, the world of Bond is guilty as charged – of sex, sadism, and snobbery. But this just completely misses the point, because there really is something important about James Bond – very important. James Bond is a modern hero, a hero for the modern age. Actually, this claim has often been made. But I mean it in a special sense: Bond is a hero in spite of modernity; an anti-modern hero who manages to triumph over – and, indeed, harness – the very forces that turn most modern men into soulless, gelded appendages to their desktop PCs. This is why Bond is important, and this is why we’ve worshipped at the cinematic altar of Bond for half a century. We long to be as free as he is.

    Bond’s Spiritual Virility

    [16]

    “Bond. James Bond.” — Sean Connery is introduced in Dr. No

    As Julius Evola might have put it, Bond is spiritually virile. He is a self-contained, self-actualized man who appears to be a self-indulgent hedonist, but is in fact fundamentally detached from the pleasures and distractions that obsess and enthrall most men.

    Let’s begin with the much-discussed sex issue. In fact, Bond does not chase after women; women chase after him. This is established in the very first scene in which Sean Connery is introduced as Bond in Dr. No. He is playing Chemin de Fer at a London club. An attractive woman asks his name from across the table: “Mr. . . . ?” Famously, Connery replies “Bond. James Bond,” while lighting a cigarette and flourishing his great, caterpillar-like black eyebrows. The woman – Sylvia Trench, played by Eunice Gayson – pursues a rather disinterested Bond, acquires his business card, then breaks into his apartment and seduces him (over Bond’s protestations).

    Later in the same film, in a brief but iconic scene, we see a female hotel receptionist ogle Bond as he makes his way across the lobby. Dr. No establishes the sexual pattern for all the succeeding films (which does indeed have its basis in the novels). Women practically throw themselves at Bond, who often seems rather weary of the whole thing. (The Bond imitators – those who brought us Matt Helm, Derek Flint, and others – often failed to get this, turning their pseudo-Bonds into lascivious, salivating womanizers.) The ease with which Bond attracts women has often been noted, and chalked up to “male fantasy wish fulfillment.” This is true, but what exactly is the wish? It’s not just the desire for easy sex. It’s also the desire – only dimly understood by most men – to be free of the tiresome indignity of having to pursue women.

    At some level, men realize that there is something unmanly about Don Juan. They realize that Bond, by contrast, has “got something” that makes it possible for him to attract women without effort. But that “something” consists in the fact that he doesn’t care about it as much as they do (perhaps because he’s proved his masculinity in other, more significant areas). He is detached. As a result, Bond doesn’t just attract a lot of babes, he attracts extraordinary women. One of the great myths about Bond – particularly as far as the films are concerned – is that Bond girls are brainless, helpless bimbos. This perception is now cynically exploited by the filmmakers, who every so often announce that “the Bond girl in the new film is different: she’s strong, she’s capable, she’s Bond’s equal,” blah blah blah.

    [17]

    Typecast as a physicist? — Denise Richards as Dr. Christmas Jones in The World is Not Enough

    But this has been true from the very beginning. Honey Rider tells Bond in Dr. No that she murdered a man who raped her by putting a black widow spider under his mosquito net (“A female, and they’re the worst. It took him a whole week to die.”) Pussy Galore is a ball-busting lesbian and leader of her own gang of Amazons. And Octopussy is cut very much from the same cloth. Fiona in Thunderball [18] is a cold-blooded assassin, and even Domino – rather bimbo-like for most of the film – winds up executing the villain herself. By my count, no fewer than ten of the cinematic Bond girls are spies or assassins. Two of the Bond girls are scientists: a geologist in A View to a Kill [19] and a nuclear physicist in The World Is Not Enough [20]. (Though it must be admitted that the actresses who play these parts are not very convincing.) Yes, there a few helpless bimbos – like Mary Goodnight in The Man With The Golden Gun [21] – but actually most of the Bondian heroines are strong, capable women. Which is just the sort of women we would expect a spiritually virile man to attract.

    And as for Bond’s seemingly absurd culinary pretensions, they’re not actually born of a desire to impress, nor are they an expression of hedonism. Bond explains himself rather well in Chapter Eight of Fleming’s Casino Royale:

    “You must forgive me,” he said. “I take a ridiculous amount of pleasure in what I eat or drink. It comes partly from being a bachelor, but mostly from a habit of taking a lot of trouble over details. It’s very pernickety and old-maidish really, but then when I’m working I generally have to eat my meals alone and it makes them more interesting when one takes trouble.”

    Besides, when you’re facing death on a daily basis, every meal could be your last! Of course Bond takes a lot of trouble over details; of course he lives life to the full. Hagakure [22], the “Book of the Samurai,” states that “The Way of the Samurai is found in death. . . . If by setting one’s heart right every morning and evening, one is able to live as though his body were already dead, he gains freedom in the Way.”[2] Bond has learned to face life as if death could come at any moment. This has the effect of heightening his senses and his tastes. He notices the nuances of food and drink that most men miss, and he takes greater pleasure in them, as he takes greater pleasure in sex.

    Bond’s pleasure is greater than that of other men – but paradoxically he is free of desire in a way most men are not. His constant brushes with death have given him a unique perspective: he is keenly aware of the impermanence of things, and of what matters and what does not. Bond enjoys food, drink, and sex so much precisely because of their unimportance. Other men, who have never faced death, place too much importance on these things and – again, paradoxically – are less able to enjoy them.

    Bond takes pleasure in the things of this world, but he is not mastered or absorbed by his appetites. This is the real meaning of the Bond family motto “The World is not Enough” (introduced in the novel On Her Majesty’s Secret Service [23], and later its own Bond film title). This is usually taken to be an expression of rapacious desire. In fact what it says is that the things of this world, which would be too much for most men to handle, are not enough for James Bond. He is greater than they are, thus he can “use them” without being corrupted by them. It’s unsurprising that book and film critics would be unable to understand any of this, and would simply see Bond as a “hedonist” and “snob.”

    Riding the Tiger

    But, again, Bond’s spiritual virility is achieved in a uniquely modern context. He is an “organization man” through and through. Unlike earlier heroes such as Sherlock Holmes, Bulldog Drummond, and Doc Savage, Bond works for someone else. And not just anyone. He serves the state. And not just any state. He serves the tattered remnants of that Great Satan of yesteryear, the British Empire. Furthermore, Bond is a Commander in the Royal Navy. He is relatively low-ranking on the intelligence totem pole, and accustomed to obeying orders. All of this is part of the reason audiences identify with James Bond. This is an observation that may surprise some, since Bond is normally thought of as a superman we long to be, not someone we identify with. Yet we do. Like us, Bond works for a boss – and he is a rather small speck in the scheme of things. In this modern world we are all functionaries and office flunkies. Fleming actually spends a fair amount of time discussing the tedium of Bond’s office work – since he only goes on missions once or twice a year.

    We long to be able to leave the office – which we loathe just as much as Bond does – and have adventures. And we note, rather enviously, that Bond has managed to be an employee, a part of a vast organization, without being spiritually reduced by it. Bond does not lie awake at night worrying about office politics. Bond does not suck up to the boss. Bond does not get ulcers. It’s been made very clear to Bond that he is quite expendable – as it’s made very clear to all the ordinary folks working corporate jobs! – but somehow he’s found a way to ride this tiger.

    Day after day, we grow more and more anxious about the extent to which work encroaches on our lives. And a huge part of the problem has to do with our much ballyhooed advances in technology. As C. S. Lewis recognized in The Abolition of Man [24], every new advance in technology is an advance in some men’s ability to control others. So that now thanks to our cell phones and email the boss can always access us. Every new advance in software means more for us to learn on the job. It never ends, and we never outrun the fear that eventually we will simply not be able to catch up. This is yet one more way in which our culture puts all the emphasis on youth – for the young always know the new technologies better, the young can always adapt more swiftly to new innovations. Some of us even fear than new technologies will replace us entirely, as has actually happened to many people, both blue-collar and white-collar.

    Needless to say, technology has always been a big part of James Bond. This is much truer of the films than the books, though there’s a slim basis for it in the books. The films, however, go whole hog and are thoroughly “modernistic.” There are gadgets galore in the Bond films; they seem to celebrate technology. But here again, things are much more complicated than they seem. If we pay careful attention to the Bond films we will realize that Bond’s attitude towards technology is disdainful. This is the basis for the well-known comic tension between Bond and crusty old Q, the gadget master.

    Q first appears in From Russia With Love[3] in which he provides Bond with a clever trick attache case and folding sniper’s rifle. It’s a brief scene without any comedic elements, though Bond seems a bit amused by the gadgets. It’s Goldfinger [25], the next film in the series, that establishes the familiar pattern. Bond visits a humorless Q who provides him with an Aston Martin equipped with revolving license plates, machine guns, smoke screen, tire slashers, radar, oil slick, and – most famously – an ejector seat. Bond seems completely unimpressed and rolls his eyes when Q tells him that he won’t take more than hour or two of his time. When they get to the ejector seat Bond sneers and says “You must be joking!” Q responds, deadpan, “I never joke about my work, Double-Oh-Seven.”

    It is clear that Bond regards the real business of spying as a matter of physical stamina and mental agility. He is contemptuous of the idea that what he does could be done better by – or even with – machines. However, time and again Bond gets himself out of tight spot with one of Q’s gadgets. And so he does make a kind of uneasy peace with technology. But again and again when the time comes for Bond to really save the day he does so with his own wits and guts. In other words, the films wind up siding with Bond and declaring that technology – and technē – is not the answer.

    Sometimes the producers forget this, however, and when they do the films tend to go off the rails. The first time this happens is in 1965’s Thunderball. By that point, after the major success of Goldfinger, the Bond gadgets had gotten a lot of publicity and the producers were careful to load up Thunderball with as much tech as possible. It begins in the pre-credit sequence, in which Bond escapes pursuers in a jetpack (!). The Aston Martin then reappears. And in the film’s climactic underwater action sequences, Bond dons a kind of underwater jetpack that fires projectiles. The effect is ridiculous. Author John Brosnan comments that the scene makes Connery look like a “clown.” And he writes of the whole film, “With Thunderball, James Bond tended to become depersonalised, turning into a sort of bland dummy whose only function was to manipulate the various gadgets and act as a catalyst to keep the whole show moving.”[4]

    The Bond films of the 60s started off as relatively realistic spy thrillers, but over time gee whiz technology took over and dwarfed the Bond character. In their first decade, the pinnacle of this technological silliness was reached with You Only Live Twice (1967), which one reviewer dismissed as looking like an episode of TV’s Thunderbirds. Everyone, including the producers, felt that something had been lost. The verdict was usually that the films had become too “outlandish.” The truth, however, is that what made Bond Bond had been negated: he wasn’t riding the tiger anymore; he was being dragged along behind it.

    And so with 1969’s On Her Majesty’s Secret Service [26] the producers dumped the gadgets, and cranked things back to the minimalism of From Russia With Love. The result was a film that many fans, myself included, regard as the best of the series. But this pattern has been repeated several times in its history. The producers again and again allow Bond to become diminished by high-tech and special effects, and again and again realize their mistake and swear never to repeat it. In truth what is happening here is that, like all of us, they are struggling with the allure – and the danger – of technology.

    In later films, as actor Desmond Llewelyn aged into a lovable old codger, the Q character was softened a bit and given more to do. But early on he is as mechanical and charmless as the gadgets he dispenses. He is man become technics, who cares more about his inventions returning “intact from the field” than about Bond’s body returning intact! This, indeed, becomes a running joke and Bond seems to take delight not just in belittling Q’s gadgets but in demolishing them.

    Bond also delights in destroying the villains’ hardware as well. The classic Bond villains tended to set themselves up with ultra-modern lairs filled with impressive technological marvels. And all of it constructed out of miles and miles of gleaming, stainless steel. By contrast, Bond’s own environment – M’s office, Whitehall, and Bond’s apartment (seen in two films) – is ultra-traditional. (Interestingly, Q’s environs look like just like the villains’.)

    The contrast could not be clearer. The good dwells in small, warm, and human spaces surrounded by organic materials (wood and fabrics of various kinds), and decorations chosen for their charm, or because they suggest national heritage (the paintings and busts in M’s office). These spaces are inhabited by individuals with distinct characters and quirks: the crusty but benign M; the stalwart, love-struck Moneypenny, etc.

    [27]

    M’s office — warm and traditional

    The evil, by contrast, dwells in huge, cold, intimidating, depersonalized spaces made of metal, stripped of anything charming and anything that suggests national identity – or cluttered with objects suggesting a confusion of national identities (e.g., Dr. No’s living room, Blofeld’s various apartments, etc.). And here the space is inhabited by emotionless human automata in coveralls, or Mao jackets, who often refer to each other only as numbers. I’ll have more to say about what this represents later on . . .

    [28]

    Blofeld’s office — cold and inhuman

    Bond as Modern Mythology

    [29]

    Venus — Ursula Andress in Dr. No

    A handsome knight, a favorite of all the ladies at court, is sent to a remote part of the kingdom to investigate the disappearance of another knight. There he learns that a terrifying wizard is responsible. The wizard lives on a mysterious island, to which many have journeyed – but from which none has ever returned. Our hero teams up with a knight from a distant kingdom that is also being plagued by the wizard’s magic. Then, accompanied by a curmudgeonly but loyal dwarf, as black as the night, our hero journeys to the island. Unexpectedly, they find themselves assisted by an avatar of Venus, who suddenly rises from the ocean. Together, the trio explores the wizard’s island. One night, they encounter a terrible dragon, who breathes fire on the swarthy dwarf and kills him. The dragon is in thrall to the wizard, however, and is under orders not to kill our hero and his Venus. He takes them captive and drags them down into the wizard’s subterranean lair.

    When they finally meet the wizard himself they find that he is a frightening, but also rather pathetic figure. He has no hands, having sacrificed them in order to read the leaves of Satan’s book and discover the secret of producing a terrible form of black magic. The wizard tries to seduce our hero with promises of magic power, but when he proves incorruptible the wizard seals him in a dungeon. The knight quickly finds, however, that it contains a tiny door that leads him into a vast labyrinth, filled with one terrifying challenge after another. The final challenge involves a fight with a giant sea monster.

    The knight kills the beast and finds his way into the wizard’s secret chamber, where the evil necromancer is in the midst of a black magic rite. Over the smoky, hell-like abyss from whence comes the wizard’s power, the two men struggle. The knight seems doomed, but in the end the fates deal out poetic justice to the wizard. His lack of hands – the very hands he sacrificed to obtain his magic – makes him unable to cling to the altar over the abyss, and he plunges into it. Our hero then rescues Venus from certain death at the hands of the wizard’s flesh-eating demons, and together they leave the island, never to return.

    For the uninitiated, this is exactly the plot of Dr. No.[5] Bond is sent to Jamaica to investigate the disappearance of another British agent. There, he teams up with a CIA agent investigating recent radio interference with American rocket launches. They discover that the man responsible seems to be a reclusive scientist named Dr. No, who lives on an island called Crab Key. Bond sails to the island, accompanied by a local black fisherman named Quarrel. The next morning, the beautiful Honey Rider appears, rising out of the ocean. (She had come to the island looking for shells.) Earlier, Quarrel had warned Bond that the island is guarded by a dragon, and that night the three actually encounter it. But the “dragon” turns out to be a tank of sorts, fitted out with a flamethrower – which kills poor Quarrel. Men with machine guns pile out of the “dragon” and take Bond and Honey down to Dr. No’s subterranean installation.

    [30]

    The “dragon” from Dr. No

    Over dinner, Dr. No reveals that he lost his hands as a result of his experiments with nuclear power.[6] He tries to recruit Bond, unsuccessfully. Dr. No places Bond in a cell, and gives him the option of staying there or traversing a labyrinth. Bond chooses the latter, but much to his discomfort. He is shocked, burned, and almost drowned. (In the novel he is also attacked by poisonous insects.) Finally (in the novel only) Bond must defeat a giant squid. In the film version, Bond then infiltrates Dr. No’s reactor room. There is a final climactic battle, and Dr. No – owing to his lack of hands – is unable to stop himself from slipping into the steaming reactor pool.[7] Things start to explode, and Bond rushes off to rescue Honey (who – again, in the novel only – is about to be eaten by flesh-eating crabs). Together, they escape the island.

    That the Bond stories are “modern myths” has often been asserted, and there’s quite a bit to this. John Brosnan, states that “Dr. No, Ernst Stavro Blofeld, et al. are the descendents not of Al Capone but of Dracula himself.” And he continues:

    Seen, then, in this context the Bond books and films become twentieth-century folk epics with Bond as a latter day St. George fighting against evil incarnate. They are the same basic stories that have been passed down through the centuries but with the hero and the villain adapted to our technological age. No longer is it Satan’s power that people fear but the new demons of machinery and atomic power. So the vampire has exchanged his castle for Dr. No’s subterranean laboratory, his fangs for Dr. No’s steel claws, and his unholy source of power for Dr. No’s atomic reactor.[8]

    This is actually a very insightful analysis, from one of the earliest book-length studies of the Bond films. All the traditional mythic elements are present in Bond, only they have been rather straightforwardly modernized. One might also mention the fact that Bond’s gadgets are simply modernized versions of things like magic swords and spears, helmets of invisibility, and indestructible shields. M is actually a sort of Odin figure, whose feelings of paternal affection for his No. 1 hero don’t change the fact that he controls Bond’s destiny, and is willing to send Bond to his death. And I could go on.

    The Bond character has often been derided by critics as an exaggerated superman. And, in truth, his exploits are often incredible, in the literal sense of the term. Slaying the giant squid is just one example. He’s saved the entire world more often than anyone can remember, without so much as mussing his hair. Yet the exploits of the heroes of Celtic and Germanic mythology are just as implausible, often more so. But no one criticizes them as “unrealistic.”

    Bond is indeed the stuff of modern myth. And audiences have responded to him so strongly because we have a need for this sort of thing. It provides a kind of spiritual fuel. Of course, the same could be said of Star Wars (indeed, Lucas consciously wove mythic motifs into his films). Yet Star Wars has never come in for anything like the criticism Bond has received. I think that this has to do with the fact that the ethos of the Bond films is implicitly pagan. Whereas the ethos of the Star Wars saga is implicitly Christian, and therefore more in line with the liberalism of most film critics (however secular they may imagine themselves to be). But I’ll have more to say about that later on . . . .

    In case you haven’t figured this out, I have been fascinated by James Bond since a very early age – in fact, since before my parents allowed me to see a Bond film. I first learned about Bond from my mother, who one night told me about a secret agent who had a special car outfitted with machine guns and an ejector seat. I then acquired the classic Corgi toy version of the Bond Aston Martin (still being manufactured years after Goldfinger was released). But my parents decided that the films were “too adult” for me to see. Besides, I became interested in Bond during the three-year hiatus between 1974’s The Man with the Golden Gun and 1977’s The Spy Who Loved Me [31]. There just was no Bond for me to see – except on television. But back then the films were all broadcast with absurd “parental advisories” which scared my parents into changing the channel.

    I longed for something like Bond to appear on television. But, alas, these were the days of shows like Kojak, Starsky and Hutch, and S.W.AT., which all struck me (even as a child) as cheap, seedy, and naturalistic. I longed, although I did not realize it, to see the present mythologized. Science fiction and fantasy didn’t appeal to me much. (I was the only kid in school who didn’t see Star Wars a second time.) I wanted to see grand conflicts between good and evil, with extraordinary heroes doing extraordinary things, but set in the here-and-now.

    When we think about the traditional myths, sagas, and folktales that have been passed down to us, we tend to think that the “mythic elements” include such things as powerful kings, castles with moats around them, knights in armor, imperiled princesses, poisoned blades, and court magicians. But when our traditional myths were composed these things actually existed. They were the realistic elements in the myths. What the myths and sagas did was to take the here-and-now and introduce elements of the supernatural, and superhumanly heroic.

    Myths make the present extraordinary.[9] Thus, it actually seems a bit weaselly to refer to Bond as “modern myth.” Kind of like calling discrimination against whites “reverse discrimination.” No, it’s just discrimination. And Bond is just myth. When the Volsung Saga and Parzival were written they were “modern myths,” i.e., myths of today. In making the present extraordinary, myths make clear the difference between good and evil, which is often hard to discern when we are caught up in the complicated details of the moment. They show us eternal truth shining through present actuality. And they erect archetypes of heroism and virtue; they gave us something to aspire to.

    This was what I wanted to see as a child: I wanted to see the world around me made mythic. And when my parents finally allowed me to see a Bond film (The Spy Who Loved Me, in 1977), this was exactly what I found. And I’ve been hooked ever since. It was for the same reasons that, in my early twenties, I responded so strongly to Ayn Rand’s novels. Rand called her literary style “romantic realism.” She laid her stories in the present day, but her characters were larger than life and did extraordinary things. It seemed natural to her to include elements of science fiction – just like in the Bond films. And so her characters invent new technologies, and hide them in secret valleys beneath holographic projection screens (see Atlas Shrugged [32]).[10] As Brosnan noted in writing of the Bond films, “modern myths” substitute science fiction for the supernatural. (There seems to be some kind of cultural or literary necessity to this.) “Romantic realism,” is just the same thing as myth, properly understood.

    Bond’s Moralism

    So how exactly do the Bond myths make clear the difference between good and evil? (The idea that there could be a moral dimension to Bond would strike many people as absurd.) I actually alluded to this earlier. To see this we have to look at who Bond is fighting, and how he fights them.

    In the films, it was rarely the Soviets. When Fleming got tired of making Russians the villains, he invented S.P.E.C.T.R.E. (the SPecial Executive for Counter-intelligence Terrorism, Revenge, Extortion), a multi-national criminal organization headed by the diabolical Ernst Stavro Blofeld (Moriarty plus Mabuse). S.P.E.C.T.R.E. first appears in Fleming’s novel Thunderball [33] (1961), but the filmmakers inserted the organization into their version of Dr. No, making the eponymous villain a S.P.E.C.T.R.E. agent (in the novel he’s working for the Soviets). The sinister organization then appears in five of the next six films (it’s even worked into From Russia With Love, in which the Russians only appear to be the baddies – it’s actually Blofeld and company).

    Blofeld and his white Persian cat make their first appearance in From Russia With Love. In an early scene he explains the modus operandi of the organization in terms of the fish in his office aquarium:

    “Siamese fighting fish. fascinating creatures, brave but on the whole stupid. Yes, they’re stupid. Except for the occasional one such as we have here, who lets the other two fight. He waits. Waits until the survivor is so exhausted that he cannot defend himself. And then, like S.P.E.C.T.R.E., he strikes.”

    The idea is that S.P.E.C.T.R.E. will allow the two superpowers to fight it out, then move in and pick up the pieces. Does Blofeld want merely to profit financially, or does he seek world domination? Probably a bit of both. (And is there a difference?) What is fascinating here is that the organization is, as it were, “triangulated” vis-à-vis the U.S. and U.S.S.R. In fact, what S.P.E.C.T.R.E. embodies is Heidegger’s thesis of the metaphysical identity of the superpowers. S.P.E.C.T.R.E. represents the core of both: materialism, dehumanization, homogenization, globalism, and Heidegger’s Gestell [34].

    These are the real villains, these are the things we are really worried about. And both the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. were out to advance them, each in their own way. But suddenly now it is little England (no longer an imperial power) that is caught in the pincers. So off goes Bond to slay the dragon of homogenization, and make the world safe for British eccentricity (which, if you think about it, was exactly the premise of TV’s The Avengers).

    But there’s another significant sort of villain that Bond finds himself up against: the crazy idealist. These are mainly an invention of the films – there’s really only one in the Fleming novels. The villain in the literary Moonraker [35] (1955), Sir Hugo Drax (really Graf Hugo von der Drache) is a Nazi who plans to destroy London with a missile as revenge for the defeat of Hitler and – I kid you not – as revenge for various forms of social humiliation inflicted on him in English boarding schools. The cinematic Drax [36] is a much crazier idealist: he plans to destroy all life on earth using nerve gas, while creating a new master race on an orbiting space station. The villain of the previous film, The Spy Who Loved Me, plans to destroy the earth by provoking nuclear war between the U.S. and U.S.S.R., while creating a new master race in a city beneath the sea.

    Hmm . . . did these two guys ever meet? Needless to say, Bond vanquishes both of them. In the name of what? In the name of finitude and imperfection; in the name of this world, warts and all. This is surely one of the things that bothers liberal critics. Bond is not an idealist. His “world affirming” attitude extends well beyond a tolerance for marmalade.

    But though Bond may not be an idealist, he certainly is a moralist. I have always been convinced that one of the reasons liberal critics tend to hate Bond is that, unlike them, he is not morally confused. Bond has no compunctions at all about passing moral judgments. And in making those judgments he is clearly not drawing on the Sermon on the Mount. No, Bond’s ethos is really that of a pagan.

    In the early days of Bond, much was made of the fact that he had a “licence to kill” (I’m deliberately using the British spelling of “license”). This is what the Double-0 prefix in 007 signifies. In Britain in the ’60s, Bond was frequently depicted in film trailers and radio spots as “the gentleman agent with the licence to kill!” The concept of a “licence to kill” is really a legal one. What it means is that Bond is officially authorized to kill in the line of duty and, presumably, in Britain he cannot be prosecuted or otherwise held liable for deaths he causes on the job. It does not really mean that he can kill anyone he wants to, at anytime. Yet, that’s sort of what “licence to kill” communicates to people and – let’s be honest – it gives us a bit of a thrill.

    If only I had a licence to kill. I’d probably start with some of the people I work with. Then I’d move on to . . . Well, it’s pointless to sit around fantasizing, pleasant though it might be. It is odd, isn’t it, that the concept of a licence to kill seems so Romantic. It makes Bond seem larger than life. Why? Because it suggests that he has been liberated from the mundane, popular moralism that constrains and confuses us.

    In thinking about Blofeld and what must be done with him, Bond does not take time to ponder whether there might really be some good in everyone. (“After all, he does really seem to love that cat. He never goes anywhere without it . . .”) Nor does Bond feel the necessity to Mirandize Blofeld and turn him over to the proper authorities so that he can get due process and a speedy trial. No, Bond simply executes Blofeld (or he tries to – repeatedly).

    Bond electrocutes people, harpoons them, strangles them, feeds them to piranha fish, dumps them into pits of boiling mud, explodes them with shark gun pellets, drops them off cliffs, throws them from airplanes, sets them on fire, and sometimes just shoots them (often repeatedly: see how Bond executes Stromberg in The Spy Who Loved Me). Usually, after each execution, Bond utters a memorable witticism. After harpooning one man with a shark gun in Thunderball, Bond remarks “I think he got the point.” After dumping someone in a pool of piranha in You Only Live Twice, Bonds wishes the little critters “Bon appétit.”

    He doesn’t agonize over it later (though, admittedly, there’s a tiny bit of that in the novels). He doesn’t wonder if he did the right thing. No, one of the things that characterizes Bond is moral certainty. He knows who the bad guys are, and he knows they deserve it. And he doesn’t seem to wonder what God thinks about the matter either. No, Bond relies entirely on his own judgment, and is sure in his judgment. And sure of his moral authority to punish evildoers. This is the sort of thing that drives liberals crazy.

    But what is it that guides Bond’s moral judgment? Though he takes it upon himself to be judge, jury, and executioner, Bond is never arrogant or capricious in his decision to take a life. Bond is no sociopath. When the assassin Scaramanga suggests in The Man with the Golden Gun that he and Bond are morally equivalent, Bond responds, memorably, “There’s a useful four letter word. And you’re full of it.” Bond is beyond good and evil – but only in the sense that he’s beyond Christian (or liberal) moralizing. This is typified by the title Live and Let Die.

    The filmmakers have long employed a brilliant dramatic device that appears in most of the Bond films. At a certain point in the story, an ally of Bond (or, at least, a sympathetic character) will be killed by the villain or the villain’s henchmen. This introduces a note of pathos into what are often extremely lighthearted stories, and it also allows Bond to show some emotion and reveal some vulnerability (in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service he actually cries). But these scenes are important for yet another reason. Always up until that point in the story Bond has been pursuing his mission for Queen and Country. But the death of his friend makes the mission personal.

    However, it would not be accurate to say that from that moment forward Bond is acting for Bond. Rather, he is acting according to his own, personal sense of justice. And it is interesting that what catalyzes this is invariably that good-old-pagan virtue of loyalty, and that good-old-pagan desire for vengeance. This is, in fact, the entire premise of 1989’s Licence to Kill, which is actually an eloquent commentary on the very concept of the “licence to kill.” In the story, M revokes Bond’s licence. But Bond goes rogue, bent on avenging the brutalization of his friend Felix and the rape and murder of Felix’s fiancé. What the title of the film means is that although Bond’s legal licence to kill is revoked, the events of the story grant him a moral licence to kill. This is the stuff of the pagan, pre-Christian sagas.

    But what would Jesus do? Who bloody cares?! I’ve been asking myself for years “What would James Bond do?” Bond is my moral compass.

    Bond as Racialist and Nationalist

    Let’s talk a bit more about Ernst Stavro Blofeld. Odd name, isn’t it? It’s German, except for the middle name, because Blofeld is half German, half Greek.[11] This is a pattern we often find with Bond villains: they are mutts of some kind, or something other than what they appear to be. Dr. No is German and Chinese (a frightening combination, if ever there was one!). Not being British is bad enough, but these men are double trouble. Perhaps the most chilling example is Donovan Grant, the homicidal killer in From Russia With Love. Fleming provides us with the details of his paternity in one lurid sentence: “Donovan Grant was the result of a midnight union between a German professional weight-lifter and a Southern Irish waitress.” Poor fellow. One gets the impression that for Fleming having German ancestry must be one of the worst things that could befall a man. (Too bad for the Queen!)

    Clearly, Fleming was bothered by the idea of contamination by the non-white, and the not-quite-white. And he obviously endorsed the idea that “the wogs begin at Calais.” The filmmakers, probably without quite realizing it, have carried on this tradition. Perhaps someone will correct me, but I can’t think of a single villain in the Fleming novels or the films who’s genuinely English (aside from some very minor ones like Major Dexter Smythe in the “Octopussy” short story).

    Even the non-whites in Fleming are of mixed parentage. I’ve already mentioned Dr. No. Then there’s Mr. Big in Live and Let Die. Fleming tells us that he was born in Haiti and is “half Negro and half French.” That novel, by the way, is usually cited as Fleming’s most racist. The book actually alternates between a kind of naïve, unselfconscious racism and overt attempts to be racially “broadminded.” When Bond is first briefed on Mr. Big he says

    “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a great Negro criminal before . . . Chinamen, of course, the men behind the opium trade. There’ve been plenty of big-time Japs, mostly in pearls and drugs. Plenty of Negros mixed up in diamonds and gold in Africa, but always in a small way. They don’t seem to take to big business.”

    But then Bond immediately follows this up with “Pretty law-abiding chaps, on the whole, I should have thought.” Not to be out-run on this race to fantasyland, M responds: “the Negro races are just beginning to throw up geniuses in all the professions – scientists, doctors, writers. It’s about time they turned out a great criminal. . . . They’ve got plenty of brains and ability and guts.” Perhaps M had just had a snort of Bond’s Benzedrine.

    But Fleming wasn’t fooling anybody. The title of Chapter Five in the British edition of Live and Let Die was “Nigger Heaven.” When it was published in the U.S. a year later this was changed to “Seventh Avenue,” and certain racially-charged passages were heavily censored.

    Aside from the villains that are foreign mixtures of various kinds, there are the ones who are pretending to be British – which is almost as bad. Sir Hugo Drax in the literary Moonraker is actually half German, but he’s passing himself off as a British war hero. Goldfinger is perhaps the most interesting case: he’s Latvian, but a naturalized British subject. The surname Goldfinger is almost always German-Jewish, which has led to some speculation as to whether the character – who is obsessed with amassing great hordes of gold – is intended to be a kind of anti-Semitic caricature.

    In the novel, Bond encounters Goldfinger for the first time in his hotel in Miami (just as in the film). Goldfinger is cheating a wealthy older gentleman at gin rummy – a fellow by the name of Du Pont, who happens to be an old friend of Bond’s. (Bond villains are not gentlemen: they tend to cheat at games. Goldfinger will cheat again at golf, Hugo Drax cheats at cards, Kamal Kahn cheats at backgammon in Octopussy, and Max Zorin cheats at horse racing in A View to a Kill.) Bond and Mr. Du Pont actually discuss whether or not Goldfinger might be Jewish. Du Pont says “You’d think he’d be a Jew from the name, but he doesn’t look it.” He then volunteers that were Goldfinger Jewish he would never have been admitted to the hotel (!).

    But Fleming may just have been trying to throw us off the scent. It’s a well-known fact that he borrowed the name of his most famous villain from his neighbor, the architect Ernö Goldfinger. (In the novel the character’s first name is Auric – a clever play on the chemical symbol for gold, Au.) Goldfinger the architect was indeed Jewish, and Fleming seems to have disliked him intensely. Goldfinger’s designs represented the worst of modern, post-war architecture.

    [37]

    The house that Goldfinger built — round the corner from Fleming’s place

    Ernö Goldfinger capitalized on post-war devastation and homelessness in Britain by creating some of the most hideous high-rise flats imaginable. His designs were completely devoid of charm, and anything suggesting Englishness. Ever the traditionalist, Fleming was horrified. And he was personally affected by it: Goldfinger had a number of cottages in Fleming’s neighborhood razed in order to make way for his new, butt-ugly modernistic home. The cherry on the cake is that Goldfinger also designed the post-war headquarters of the British Communist Party.

    When Fleming’s novel was published, Ernö Goldfinger threatened to sue. Fleming responded by suggesting the book be re-titled Goldprick (a move that would have delighted Austin Powers). However, Goldfinger was apparently pleased by the publicity the book brought him, so he dropped his case in exchange for Fleming paying his legal costs and six free copies of the book. While Fleming may have delighted in naming his villain after the odious architect, the characterization of Goldfinger is actually said to have been based on Charles W. Engelhard, Jr., an American millionaire involved in the precious metals industry, and thoroughbred horse racing (just like Auric Goldfinger). Engelhard was also Jewish.

    [38]

    Ernö Goldfinger’s Trellick Tower — a worse crime than robbing Fort Knox

    There were also “fake Englishmen” created exclusively for Bond’s cinematic exploits. Alec Trevelyan in GoldenEye [39] (1995) starts off as a British agent – and friend of Bond – but turns out to be descended from Cossacks and bent on revenge against the U.K. (It’s a long story . . . ) Perhaps the most dramatic example in the Bond films of the “fake Englishman” is Gustav Graves in Die Another Day (2002; possibly the worst of the Pierce Brosnan Bonds). Graves actually turns out to be a North Korean mastermind who has undergone “gene therapy” and physically transformed himself into an Englishman. (Perhaps the most confused and implausible plot element in any Bond film.)

    Its one thing to be some heavily-accented, foreign counterjumper trying to pass himself off as an English gentleman. But the case of Graves suggests that there may be people out there who are genetic fakes: English, but not really. Come to think of it, doesn’t this describe Tony Blair and all the ethnomasochists of the Labour Party, who’ve pretty much destroyed England? And – ouch – doesn’t this also describe any American of English ancestry? Perhaps “gene therapy” is the solution to the U.K.’s immigration problem. They’d still be flooded with Pakis and Arabs, but at least they’d look English. (And let’s be quite honest with each other: to a significant degree, immigration is an aesthetic problem, as well as a cultural and racial one.)

    [40]

    Pervert and cat

    It’s not just their race and ethnicity that makes the Bond villains so frightening: they’re usually also physically and psychologically screwed up. Dr. No has no hands. Blofeld has a syphilitic scar in the novels (and what appears to be a dueling scar in one film). Emilio Largo is missing an eye. Tee Hee in Live and Let Die is missing a hand. Scaramanga in The Man with the Golden Gun has a third nipple. Nick Nack, in the same film, is a dwarf. Jaws in The Spy Who Loved Me has steel teeth, and Stromberg, in the novelization of that film, has webbed fingers. Max Zorin is the product of Nazi experiments. Alec Trevelyan is hideously scarred. Renard in The World is Not Enough is incapable of feeling pain or pleasure. And Le Chiffre in Casino Royale cries blood.

    In short, the Bond villains are “special.” In today’s world these people would all get to sit in the reserved benches at the front of the bus (even Scaramanga with his nipple: remember, not all disabilities are visible). But in Fleming’s world they are accorded no sympathy. In Fleming’s world there’s a healthy horror of physical abnormalities, and a Classically Greek intuition that what’s twisted on the outside is twisted on the inside. The flip side of this is the much-maligned Bondian focus on beauty. (Though what most feminist critics don’t seem to get is that Bond is offered to us as a sex object as well.)

    [41]

    Lesbo — Lotte Lenya as Klebb in From Russia With Love

    Then there are all those perversions. From Russia With Love is a veritable cavalcade of perverts. Rosa Klebb is a lesbian who gets off on torturing people. Donovan Grant is a serial killer who derives a sexual thrill from killing (but only when the moon is full! This didn’t make it into the film). Finally, another From Russia With Love assassin, Krilencu, also kills for pleasure. So does Vargas in Thunderball. Blofeld is described as asexual. Wynt and Kidd in Diamonds are Forever are gay. And Scaramanga only makes love prior to killing. This just scratches the surface.

    Thank god that physical deformity and sexual perversion don’t exist in Fleming’s England!

    Actually, the most iconic Bond villain of all may be Le Chiffre in the literary Casino Royale. “Le Chiffre” means “the cipher.” The man in question adopted this name after the war, when he was liberated from Dachau. He claimed to be suffering from total amnesia, and at first was unable to speak. He could not remember his nationality. (M’s dossier, however, states that he has “large [ear]lobes, indicating some Jewish blood”!) Nor could he even remember his own name. And so he adopted the name Le Chiffre, to express his complete lack of identity. Le Chiffre is the perfect modern villain – and a perfect villain for the first Bond adventure. He embodies everything that Bond is fighting against: he is a rootless cosmopolitan, a man without a country, and without any allegiances (other than to himself).

    Bond himself is the antithesis of this. Despite his Overmanish qualities, he’s a patriot who sees himself as serving Queen and Country. Much has been made of the fact that Bond is a kind of wish fulfillment for the post-imperial British. He came along at a time when British power and prestige were on the wane. But Bond allows the British to pretend that they are still a world power, and that it’s up to them to come to the rescue. There’s a lot to this analysis, actually. For one thing, isn’t it significant that Bond so often has to come to the aid of the hapless Americans? This actually begins in the novels, in which Bond is always ordering around Americans like Felix Leiter, who are portrayed as classless and inept. Kingsley Amis put it best, writing in The James Bond Dossier [42]:

    The point of Felix Leiter, such a nonentity as a piece of characterization, is that he, the American, takes orders from Bond, the Britisher, and that Bond is constantly doing better than he, showing himself, not braver or more devoted, but smarter, wilier, tougher, more resourceful—the incarnation of little old England with her quiet ways and shoestring budget wiping the eye of great big global-tentacled multi-billion-dollar-appropriating America.

    This is all true, and I suppose that if one sees things from this perspective, Bond (and Fleming) come off seeming a trifle pathetic. But the truth is that Bond doesn’t really have any illusions about British power and influence. He’s just fighting for his country. Not because he thinks it’s the greatest country in the world, or because he thinks it has a mission to civilize the rest of the planet. The loss of the Empire really makes no difference to him, because he doesn’t need a reason to love England and the English. He simply loves what is his own. Would that there were more Englishmen like James Bond. . . .

    Prospects for the Future

    [43]I am writing this some days prior to Skyfall’s release in the U.S. Based on the advance publicity, and reviews by critics in the U.K., I am cautiously optimistic.

    During the gap between 1989’s Licence to Kill and the first Pierce Brosnan film, GoldenEye [39] (1995), I worried that when Bond returned he would be made politically correct. But the producers actually seemed to signal that that wasn’t going to happen. In GoldenEye, the now-female M informs a bemused (and unrepentant) Bond that he’s a “sexist, misogynist dinosaur.”

    Yes, I was bothered a little bit by the female M. (And puzzled as to why they hadn’t followed Sir Humphrey Appleby’s suggestion in Yes, Minister and changed the code name to F.) But the real head of MI6 at the time was a woman, and Judi Dench is a fine actress, so I was willing to go along with it. It also didn’t bother me that there were token blacks surrounding M. So what? And Pierce Brosnan bedding down with Halle Berry didn’t trouble me at all (from Octopussy to Octoroon, I suppose one might say). Afterall, Bond has been bedding non-white women since Dr. No. I don’t think he plans to have children with any of them.

    And I am also willing to overlook the fact that Bond no longer smokes. I still vividly recall an interview with Pierce Brosnan who described shooting a scene in Tomorrow Never Dies. Bond is sitting in the dark, lying in wait in someone’s hotel room, wearing shirtsleeves, cradling his gun and drinking vodka (in short, kind of like a scene in Dr. No). Brosnan said the scene “just cried out for a cigarette.” But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It would have been a bad influence on the kiddies. Let me get this straight: he’s sitting in the dark, swigging Smirnoff, about to kill someone – but smoking a cigarette would have sent impressionable viewers the wrong message? (Meanwhile, apparently, Brosnan was shooting Lark commercials in Japan.)

    Yes, I’m willing to forgive James Bond quite a lot, actually. And at this point I’m not really concerned that the producers will ruin the series with political correctness. They’re too smart for that. I am concerned, however, that many of the things I’ve discussed in this essay – things that make Bond Bond – are falling by the wayside.

    I was delighted with how the producers chose to “reboot” Bond in 2006’s Casino Royale. I had been saying for years that major changes needed to made; that the series was riding on nostalgia; that it had become stale. I also think that Daniel Craig is the best Bond since Connery. Why? Because he actually manages to make Bond into a three-dimensional, believable character. Timothy Dalton did this as well, but he somehow wasn’t quite the right “fit” – and Brosnan always gave me the impression of a man playing a man playing James Bond. However, one of the ways in which they’ve made the character more believable is to make him less self-possessed. This new Bond is unsure of himself in many ways. He seems a bit unstable, and is not fully in command of himself and his surroundings. He’s not riding the tiger yet. Maybe he’s learning to ride it, but I don’t know.

    And this new Bond has no critical distance from technology. There’s something about seeing James Bond with a cell phone pressed against his ear that really bothers me. He’s become too much like us. Too swamped by the tech. Too swamped by the organization. He seems smaller and more vulnerable. He seems beleaguered – as we all are today. Is the character going to continue growing and developing? Will he grow into the old James Bond, who showed us that it is possible to ride the tiger of modernity and not be trampled by it? I hope so.

    Despite my misgivings, I will be first in line to see Skyfall when it opens. And I have already ordered my 50th anniversary Blu-ray set [44] of all twenty-two earlier Eon productions Bond films. I’ve learned a whole lot about life from James Bond, and I will continue to defend Bond and continue seeing these films from now till my dying breath . . .

    . . . unless they make Bond black [45].[12]

    Notes

    [1] More sadism was borrowed from the same novel and placed in 1981’s For Your Eyes Only: Bond and the heroine are tied together and dragged over coral reefs.

    [2] Yamamoto Tsunetomo, Hagakure: The Book of the Samurai, trans. William Scott Wilson (Tokyo: Kodansha International, 1979), 23-24, emphasis added.

    [3] A “Major Boothroyd,” who is apparently supposed to be the same person as Q, appears in Dr. No. But there he is merely an “armourer,” who provides Bond with his famous Walther PPK. He is also not played by Desmond Llewelyn, the actor most famously associated with Q, but by Peter Burton.

    [4] John Brosnan, James Bond in the Cinema (London: Tantivy Press, 1972), 73.

    [5] I have actually amalgamated elements from both the novel and the film.

    [6] In the novel, he betrays the Tong society, who cut off his hands.

    [7] In the novel, Bond buries Dr. No under a pile of bat guano.

    [8] Brosnan, 11.

    [9] This is why Bond, as myth, is actually superior to Tolkien – and why he appeals to a wider audience.

    [10] It’s no surprise that Rand was gaga over Dr. No. But she disliked the later films, thinking that they undermined Bond’s mythic heroism.

    [11] He was born in Gdynia, Poland, when it was part of Germany.

    [12] Calm yourselves: this business about casting a black man as Bond has been around for years. It’s a publicity stunt.

     

    ...
    (Review Source)
  • New from Counter-Currents! Son of Trevor Lynch’s White Nationalist Guide to the Movies
    (”Die Another Day” is briefly mentioned in this.)

    [1]1,140 words

    Trevor Lynch
    Son of Trevor Lynch’s White Nationalist Guide to the Movies
    Edited by Greg Johnson
    San Francisco: Counter-Currents, 2015
    214 pages

    Kindle E-book: $4.49 [2]

    A print edition will appear shortly, $35 for hardcovers and $18 for paperbacks. 

    Since 2001, Trevor Lynch’s witty, pugnacious, and profound film essays and reviews have developed a wide following among cinephiles and White Nationalists alike. Lynch deals frankly with the anti-white bias and Jewish agenda of many mainstream films, but he is even more interested in discerning positive racial messages and values, sometimes in the most unlikely places.

    Son of Trevor Lynch’s White Nationalist Guide to the Movies is his second collection of essays and reviews, covering 51 movies and 4 television shows, spanning a 14-year period, from his very first review (Mulholland Drive) to his last to date (The Hobbit: The Battle of Five Armies).

    Lynch offers penetrating and sometimes surprising philosophical readings of Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner, Alejandro Jodorowsky’s The Dance of Reality, the Coen brothers’ A Serious Man, M. Night Shyamalan’s Signs, and Francis Ford Coppola’s Youth Without Youth; sympathetic interpretations of Bollywood musicals and Zhang Yimou’s wuxia movies; and hilarious pans of Atlas Shrugged: Part I, Prometheus, The Hobbit trilogy, The Monuments Men, Machete, Predators, Secretary, Sucker Punch, and other worthy targets.

    Return of Trevor Lynch’s White Nationalist Guide to the Movies cements its author’s status as a leading cultural critic of the North American New Right.

    Contents

    Preface

    1. Agora
    2. Alexander
    3. Arlington Road
    4. Atlas Shrugged: Part I
    5. Blade Runner
    6. Burn Notice
    7. Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky
    8. The Dance of Reality
    9. Die Another Day
    10. 8 Mile
    11. Firefly
    12. Hero
    13. The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey
    14. The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug
    15. The Hobbit: The Battle of Five Armies
    16. Hooray for Bollywood: Devdas & Kabhi Kushi Kabhie Gham
    17. House of Flying Daggers
    18. The Interpreter
    19. Law & Order: Special Victims Unit
    20. Legally Blonde 2: Red, White & Blonde
    21. Lovecraft: Fear of the Unknown
    22. Machete
    23. Man of Steel
    24. Men in Black II
    25. Minority Report
    26. Moneyball
    27. The Monuments Men
    28. Mulholland Drive
    29. Nebraska
    30. Person of Interest
    31. Predators
    32. Prometheus
    33. Red Dragon
    34. The Road
    35. Secretary
    36. Serenity
    37. A Serious Man
    38. Signs
    39. Spy Kids 2: The Island of Lost Dreams
    40. Star Wars: Episode II—Attack of the Clones
    41. Sucker Punch
    42. The Tourist
    43. Vanilla Sky
    44. Youth Without Youth

    Appendix
    45. Ten Favorite Films

    Index (Print edition only)

    Praise for Trevor Lynch

    “Trevor Lynch provides us with a highly literate, insightful, and even philosophical perspective on film—one that will send you running to the video rental store for a look at some very worthwhile movies—although he is also quite willing to tell you what not to see. He sees movies without the usual blinders. He is quite aware that because Hollywood is controlled by Jews, one must typically analyze movies for their propaganda value in the project of white dispossession. Trevor Lynch’s collection is a must read for anyone attempting to understand the deep undercurrents of the contemporary culture of the West.”

    —Kevin MacDonald, author of The Culture of Critique

    “Hollywood has been deconstructing the white race for nearly a century. Now Trevor Lynch is fighting back, deconstructing Hollywood from a White Nationalist point of view. But these essays are not just of interest to White Nationalists. . . . These essays combine a cultural and philosophical sophistication beyond anything in film studies today with a lucid, accessible, and entertaining prose style. Every serious cineaste needs to read this book.”

    —Edmund Connelly

    “The Hollywood movie may be the greatest vehicle of deception ever invented, and the passive white viewer is its primary target. Yet White Nationalist philosopher and film critic Trevor Lynch demonstrates that truth is to be found even in this unlikeliest of places. If American audiences could learn the kind of critical appreciation Mr. Lynch demonstrates for them, their seductive enemies in Tinseltown wouldn’t stand a chance.”

    —F. Roger Devlin, author of Sexual Utopia in Power

    “This is not some collection of vein-popping rants about Hollywood’s political agendas. It’s a thoughtful and engaging examination of ideas in popular films from a perspective you won’t find in your local newspaper or in Entertainment Weekly. Lynch has chosen films that—in many cases—he actually enjoyed, and playfully teased out the New Right themes that mainstream reviewers can only afford to address with a careful measure of scorn. How many trees have been felled to print all of the Marxist, feminist, minority-pandering ‘critiques’ of contemporary celluloid over the past fifty years? Isn’t it about time we read an explicitly white review of The Fellowship of the Ring, or Traditionalist take on take on The Dark Knight?”

    —Jack Donovan, author of A Sky Without Eagles

    “Hunter Thompson said that Las Vegas was ‘what the whole hep world would be doing Saturday night if the Nazis had won the War.’ Like liberalism, that’s clever but wrong. If the Good Guys had won, we ‘hepsters’ would be at the movies, experiencing the ultimate art form, but made by racially aware white artists, not today’s Hollywood culture-distorters. This book is the next best thing: Trevor Lynch reviews today’s films from an artistically sensitive, culturally informed, but most of all unfailingly pro-white perspective. He doesn’t just warn you away from the obviously bad, but explains how the poison works and where it comes from, and even finds racially uplifting stuff where you’d least expect it—Pulp Fiction? Read it, and you’ll never feel the need to pay good money to be seen weeping at another Holocaust movie again.”

    —James J. O’Meara, author of The Eldritch Evola . . . & Others

    “What I find most remarkable about Trevor Lynch’s writings on film is his ability to use philosophy to illuminate film, and vice-versa, with an intellectual virtuosity and lucidity of style that blows away anything in the vast Open Court and Blackwell series of Philosophy and Popular Culture books.”

    —Jef Costello

    “‘Trevor Lynch’ is not precisely a real person himself. Rather, he is the alter-ego of a tiresome and self-important fellow named Greg Johnson who runs a vastly pretentious website called Counter-Currents.com . . . . Lynch/Johnson . . . might be considered shocking, if only he weren’t such a bore. A consummate nerd and self-described “LOTR [Lord of the Rings] fanatic,” he’s the kind of guy who finds himself at parties at which ‘Pulp Fiction’ is described as a film about ‘greatness of soul at the end of history,’ and who complains as lustily about ‘lowbrow’ appropriation of the term ‘postmodern’ as he does about the supposed Jewish scheme to undermine ‘higher morality’ by putting ‘dangerous truths’ ‘in the mouths of monsters’ like the racist skinheads of ‘American History X’.”

    —Leah Nelson, Southern Poverty Law Center Intelligence Report

    “The most bizarre of the white supremacist titles, though, is Trevor Lynch’s White Nationalist Guide to the Movies. . . . Mr Lynch’s review of summer blockbuster ‘Django Unchained’ calls it ‘another Jewish wet dream’ before saying that ‘hateful fantasies about teaming up with blacks to harm whites are staples of the Jewish imagination.’”

    —Ryan Gorman, The Daily Mail

     

    ...
    (Review Source)
  • Son of Trevor Lynch’s White Nationalist Guide to the Movies
    (”Die Another Day” is briefly mentioned in this.)

    [1]1,161 words

    Trevor Lynch
    Son of Trevor Lynch’s White Nationalist Guide to the Movies [2]
    Edited by Greg Johnson
    San Francisco: Counter-Currents, 2015
    214 pages

    Hardcover: $35 [2]

    Paperback: List price: $20; our price: $18 [2]

    Print copies will ship by March 21, 2015.

    To visit our secure order page, click here [2]

    Since 2001, Trevor Lynch’s witty, pugnacious, and profound film essays and reviews have developed a wide following among cinephiles and White Nationalists alike. Lynch deals frankly with the anti-white bias and Jewish agenda of many mainstream films, but he is even more interested in discerning positive racial messages and values, sometimes in the most unlikely places.

    Son of Trevor Lynch’s White Nationalist Guide to the Movies is his second collection of essays and reviews, covering 51 movies and 4 television shows, spanning a 14-year period, from his very first review (Mulholland Drive) to his last to date (The Hobbit: The Battle of Five Armies).

    Lynch offers penetrating and sometimes surprising philosophical readings of Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner, Alejandro Jodorowsky’s The Dance of Reality, the Coen brothers’ A Serious Man, M. Night Shyamalan’s Signs, and Francis Ford Coppola’s Youth Without Youth; sympathetic interpretations of Bollywood musicals and Zhang Yimou’s wuxia movies; and hilarious pans of Atlas Shrugged: Part I, Prometheus, The Hobbit trilogy, The Monuments Men, Machete, Predators, Secretary, Sucker Punch, and other worthy targets.

    Return of Trevor Lynch’s White Nationalist Guide to the Movies cements its author’s status as a leading cultural critic of the North American New Right.

    Contents

    Preface

    1. Agora
    2. Alexander
    3. Arlington Road
    4. Atlas Shrugged: Part I
    5. Blade Runner
    6. Burn Notice
    7. Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky
    8. The Dance of Reality
    9. Die Another Day
    10. 8 Mile
    11. Firefly
    12. Hero
    13. The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey
    14. The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug
    15. The Hobbit: The Battle of Five Armies
    16. Hooray for Bollywood: Devdas & Kabhi Kushi Kabhie Gham
    17. House of Flying Daggers
    18. The Interpreter
    19. Law & Order: Special Victims Unit
    20. Legally Blonde 2: Red, White & Blonde
    21. Lovecraft: Fear of the Unknown
    22. Machete
    23. Man of Steel
    24. Men in Black II
    25. Minority Report
    26. Moneyball
    27. The Monuments Men
    28. Mulholland Drive
    29. Nebraska
    30. Person of Interest
    31. Predators
    32. Prometheus
    33. Red Dragon
    34. The Road
    35. Secretary
    36. Serenity
    37. A Serious Man
    38. Signs
    39. Spy Kids 2: The Island of Lost Dreams
    40. Star Wars: Episode II—Attack of the Clones
    41. Sucker Punch
    42. The Tourist
    43. Vanilla Sky
    44. Youth Without Youth

    Appendix
    45. Ten Favorite Films

    Index (Print edition only)

    Praise for Trevor Lynch

    “Trevor Lynch provides us with a highly literate, insightful, and even philosophical perspective on film—one that will send you running to the video rental store for a look at some very worthwhile movies—although he is also quite willing to tell you what not to see. He sees movies without the usual blinders. He is quite aware that because Hollywood is controlled by Jews, one must typically analyze movies for their propaganda value in the project of white dispossession. Trevor Lynch’s collection is a must read for anyone attempting to understand the deep undercurrents of the contemporary culture of the West.”

    —Kevin MacDonald, author of The Culture of Critique

    “Hollywood has been deconstructing the white race for nearly a century. Now Trevor Lynch is fighting back, deconstructing Hollywood from a White Nationalist point of view. But these essays are not just of interest to White Nationalists. . . . These essays combine a cultural and philosophical sophistication beyond anything in film studies today with a lucid, accessible, and entertaining prose style. Every serious cineaste needs to read this book.”

    —Edmund Connelly

    “The Hollywood movie may be the greatest vehicle of deception ever invented, and the passive white viewer is its primary target. Yet White Nationalist philosopher and film critic Trevor Lynch demonstrates that truth is to be found even in this unlikeliest of places. If American audiences could learn the kind of critical appreciation Mr. Lynch demonstrates for them, their seductive enemies in Tinseltown wouldn’t stand a chance.”

    —F. Roger Devlin, author of Sexual Utopia in Power

    “This is not some collection of vein-popping rants about Hollywood’s political agendas. It’s a thoughtful and engaging examination of ideas in popular films from a perspective you won’t find in your local newspaper or in Entertainment Weekly. Lynch has chosen films that—in many cases—he actually enjoyed, and playfully teased out the New Right themes that mainstream reviewers can only afford to address with a careful measure of scorn. How many trees have been felled to print all of the Marxist, feminist, minority-pandering ‘critiques’ of contemporary celluloid over the past fifty years? Isn’t it about time we read an explicitly white review of The Fellowship of the Ring, or Traditionalist take on take on The Dark Knight?”

    —Jack Donovan, author of A Sky Without Eagles

    “Hunter Thompson said that Las Vegas was ‘what the whole hep world would be doing Saturday night if the Nazis had won the War.’ Like liberalism, that’s clever but wrong. If the Good Guys had won, we ‘hepsters’ would be at the movies, experiencing the ultimate art form, but made by racially aware white artists, not today’s Hollywood culture-distorters. This book is the next best thing: Trevor Lynch reviews today’s films from an artistically sensitive, culturally informed, but most of all unfailingly pro-white perspective. He doesn’t just warn you away from the obviously bad, but explains how the poison works and where it comes from, and even finds racially uplifting stuff where you’d least expect it—Pulp Fiction? Read it, and you’ll never feel the need to pay good money to be seen weeping at another Holocaust movie again.”

    —James J. O’Meara, author of The Eldritch Evola . . . & Others

    “What I find most remarkable about Trevor Lynch’s writings on film is his ability to use philosophy to illuminate film, and vice-versa, with an intellectual virtuosity and lucidity of style that blows away anything in the vast Open Court and Blackwell series of Philosophy and Popular Culture books.”

    —Jef Costello

    “‘Trevor Lynch’ is not precisely a real person himself. Rather, he is the alter-ego of a tiresome and self-important fellow named Greg Johnson who runs a vastly pretentious website called Counter-Currents.com . . . . Lynch/Johnson . . . might be considered shocking, if only he weren’t such a bore. A consummate nerd and self-described “LOTR [Lord of the Rings] fanatic,” he’s the kind of guy who finds himself at parties at which ‘Pulp Fiction’ is described as a film about ‘greatness of soul at the end of history,’ and who complains as lustily about ‘lowbrow’ appropriation of the term ‘postmodern’ as he does about the supposed Jewish scheme to undermine ‘higher morality’ by putting ‘dangerous truths’ ‘in the mouths of monsters’ like the racist skinheads of ‘American History X’.”

    —Leah Nelson, Southern Poverty Law Center Intelligence Report

    “The most bizarre of the white supremacist titles, though, is Trevor Lynch’s White Nationalist Guide to the Movies. . . . Mr Lynch’s review of summer blockbuster ‘Django Unchained’ calls it ‘another Jewish wet dream’ before saying that ‘hateful fantasies about teaming up with blacks to harm whites are staples of the Jewish imagination.’”

    —Ryan Gorman, The Daily Mail

    Hardcover: $35 [2]

    Paperback: List price: $20; our price: $18 [2]

    Print copies will ship by March 21, 2015.

    To visit our secure order page, click here [2].

     

    ...
    (Review Source)
  • Son of Trevor Lynch’s White Nationalist Guide to the Movies
    (”Die Another Day” is briefly mentioned in this.)

    Trevor Lynch
    Son of Trevor Lynch’s White Nationalist Guide to the Movies
    Edited by Greg Johnson
    San Francisco: Counter-Currents, 2015
    214 pages

    Kindle E-book: $4.49 [1]

    Since 2001, Trevor Lynch’s witty, pugnacious, and profound film essays and reviews have developed a wide following among cinephiles and White Nationalists alike. Lynch deals frankly with the anti-white bias and Jewish agenda of many mainstream films, but he is even more interested in discerning positive racial messages and values, sometimes in the most unlikely places.

    Son of Trevor Lynch’s White Nationalist Guide to the Movies is his second collection of essays and reviews, covering 51 movies and 4 television shows, spanning a 14-year period, from his very first review (Mulholland Drive) to his last to date (The Hobbit: The Battle of Five Armies).

    Lynch offers penetrating and sometimes surprising philosophical readings of Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner, Alejandro Jodorowsky’s The Dance of Reality, the Coen brothers’ A Serious Man, M. Night Shyamalan’s Signs, and Francis Ford Coppola’s Youth Without Youth; sympathetic interpretations of Bollywood musicals and Zhang Yimou’s wuxia movies; and hilarious pans of Atlas Shrugged: Part I, Prometheus, The Hobbit trilogy, The Monuments Men, Machete, Predators, Secretary, Sucker Punch, and other worthy targets.

    Return of Trevor Lynch’s White Nationalist Guide to the Movies cements its author’s status as a leading cultural critic of the North American New Right.

    Contents

    Preface

    1. Agora
    2. Alexander
    3. Arlington Road
    4. Atlas Shrugged: Part I
    5. Blade Runner
    6. Burn Notice
    7. Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky
    8. The Dance of Reality
    9. Die Another Day
    10. 8 Mile
    11. Firefly
    12. Hero
    13. The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey
    14. The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug
    15. The Hobbit: The Battle of Five Armies
    16. Hooray for Bollywood: Devdas & Kabhi Kushi Kabhie Gham
    17. House of Flying Daggers
    18. The Interpreter
    19. Law & Order: Special Victims Unit
    20. Legally Blonde 2: Red, White & Blonde
    21. Lovecraft: Fear of the Unknown
    22. Machete
    23. Man of Steel
    24. Men in Black II
    25. Minority Report
    26. Moneyball
    27. The Monuments Men
    28. Mulholland Drive
    29. Nebraska
    30. Person of Interest
    31. Predators
    32. Prometheus
    33. Red Dragon
    34. The Road
    35. Secretary
    36. Serenity
    37. A Serious Man
    38. Signs
    39. Spy Kids 2: The Island of Lost Dreams
    40. Star Wars: Episode II—Attack of the Clones
    41. Sucker Punch
    42. The Tourist
    43. Vanilla Sky
    44. Youth Without Youth

    Appendix
    45. Ten Favorite Films

    Index (Print edition only)

    Praise for Trevor Lynch

    “Trevor Lynch provides us with a highly literate, insightful, and even philosophical perspective on film—one that will send you running to the video rental store for a look at some very worthwhile movies—although he is also quite willing to tell you what not to see. He sees movies without the usual blinders. He is quite aware that because Hollywood is controlled by Jews, one must typically analyze movies for their propaganda value in the project of white dispossession. Trevor Lynch’s collection is a must read for anyone attempting to understand the deep undercurrents of the contemporary culture of the West.”

    —Kevin MacDonald, author of The Culture of Critique

    “Hollywood has been deconstructing the white race for nearly a century. Now Trevor Lynch is fighting back, deconstructing Hollywood from a White Nationalist point of view. But these essays are not just of interest to White Nationalists. . . . These essays combine a cultural and philosophical sophistication beyond anything in film studies today with a lucid, accessible, and entertaining prose style. Every serious cineaste needs to read this book.”

    —Edmund Connelly

    “The Hollywood movie may be the greatest vehicle of deception ever invented, and the passive white viewer is its primary target. Yet White Nationalist philosopher and film critic Trevor Lynch demonstrates that truth is to be found even in this unlikeliest of places. If American audiences could learn the kind of critical appreciation Mr. Lynch demonstrates for them, their seductive enemies in Tinseltown wouldn’t stand a chance.”

    —F. Roger Devlin, author of Sexual Utopia in Power

    “This is not some collection of vein-popping rants about Hollywood’s political agendas. It’s a thoughtful and engaging examination of ideas in popular films from a perspective you won’t find in your local newspaper or in Entertainment Weekly. Lynch has chosen films that—in many cases—he actually enjoyed, and playfully teased out the New Right themes that mainstream reviewers can only afford to address with a careful measure of scorn. How many trees have been felled to print all of the Marxist, feminist, minority-pandering ‘critiques’ of contemporary celluloid over the past fifty years? Isn’t it about time we read an explicitly white review of The Fellowship of the Ring, or Traditionalist take on take on The Dark Knight?”

    —Jack Donovan, author of A Sky Without Eagles

    “Hunter Thompson said that Las Vegas was ‘what the whole hep world would be doing Saturday night if the Nazis had won the War.’ Like liberalism, that’s clever but wrong. If the Good Guys had won, we ‘hepsters’ would be at the movies, experiencing the ultimate art form, but made by racially aware white artists, not today’s Hollywood culture-distorters. This book is the next best thing: Trevor Lynch reviews today’s films from an artistically sensitive, culturally informed, but most of all unfailingly pro-white perspective. He doesn’t just warn you away from the obviously bad, but explains how the poison works and where it comes from, and even finds racially uplifting stuff where you’d least expect it—Pulp Fiction? Read it, and you’ll never feel the need to pay good money to be seen weeping at another Holocaust movie again.”

    —James J. O’Meara, author of The Eldritch Evola . . . & Others

    “What I find most remarkable about Trevor Lynch’s writings on film is his ability to use philosophy to illuminate film, and vice-versa, with an intellectual virtuosity and lucidity of style that blows away anything in the vast Open Court and Blackwell series of Philosophy and Popular Culture books.”

    —Jef Costello

    “‘Trevor Lynch’ is not precisely a real person himself. Rather, he is the alter-ego of a tiresome and self-important fellow named Greg Johnson who runs a vastly pretentious website called Counter-Currents.com . . . . Lynch/Johnson . . . might be considered shocking, if only he weren’t such a bore. A consummate nerd and self-described “LOTR [Lord of the Rings] fanatic,” he’s the kind of guy who finds himself at parties at which ‘Pulp Fiction’ is described as a film about ‘greatness of soul at the end of history,’ and who complains as lustily about ‘lowbrow’ appropriation of the term ‘postmodern’ as he does about the supposed Jewish scheme to undermine ‘higher morality’ by putting ‘dangerous truths’ ‘in the mouths of monsters’ like the racist skinheads of ‘American History X’.”

    —Leah Nelson, Southern Poverty Law Center Intelligence Report

    “The most bizarre of the white supremacist titles, though, is Trevor Lynch’s White Nationalist Guide to the Movies. . . . Mr Lynch’s review of summer blockbuster ‘Django Unchained’ calls it ‘another Jewish wet dream’ before saying that ‘hateful fantasies about teaming up with blacks to harm whites are staples of the Jewish imagination.’”

    —Ryan Gorman, The Daily Mail

    ...
    (Review Source)

Mark Steyn3
Fox News



(Reviewers' Site/Bio)

  • Die Another Day
    Forever Bond Mark Steyn The big difference between the Bond books and the Bond films is the formula. Ian Fleming didn't have one. Sometimes he put 007 up against evil megalomaniacs in exotic locations: but he also wrote The Spy Who Loved Me, a tale of small-time hoods told by a young woman — une jolie Quebecoise, of all things — in which Bond doesn't turn up until halfway through, and From Rus
    ...
    (Review Source)
  • 13 Hours
    (”Die Another Day” is briefly mentioned in this.)
    This Monday marks the fifth anniversary of the Benghazi attack and, as Hillary Clinton would say, "What difference at this point does it make?" Which is why, presumably, she's chosen the occasion for the release of her latest leaden tome. But it makes
    ...
    (Review Source)
  • Goldeneye
    (”Die Another Day” is briefly mentioned in this.)
    The new Bond film, Spectre, opens in London later this month, and I chanced to hear the theme song the other day. It's not Shirley Bassey, John Barry, Don Black and/or Leslie Bricusse, but what is? Still, one tries to keep an open mind about these things
    ...
    (Review Source)

The Federalist Staff2
The Federalist



(Reviewers' Site/Bio)

  • Why Is Daniel Craig's James Bond So Sexless?
    (”Die Another Day” is briefly mentioned in this.)
    This week, James Bond 24, “Spectre,” finally comes out in the United States, marking the fourth film in Daniel Craig’s tenure as James Bond 007. One of the Bond series’ most interesting aspects is how each movie and each Bond responds to culture at large. Sean Connery’s movies established the classic formula: gun barrel, pre-credits sequence, theme song and credits, Bond receives a mission, and the plot begins in earnest. In them, Bond usually ends the film with the Bond girl, and more often than not they’re in some odd location (rafts are particularly popular in the Connery movies). Given this, what Craig’s Bond has kept and what it’s changed is particularly telling of social attitudes today. This shows up especially in the “vices” Bond partakes of—drinking, gambling, smoking, violence, and sex. Timothy Dalton was the last Bond to smoke cigarettes. Brosnan was allowed one cigar in “Die Another Day,” and in “Tomorrow Never Dies” he even does the public service of reminding the audience that smoking is a filthy habit—as he decks a guy in the face. Bond’s gambling used to consist of games like chemen de fer, but Craig’s Bond is playing Texas Hold ‘Em. That switch purposefully dumbs down the “action” because of what movie producers assume of today’s audience intelligence. Bond’s drinking, on the other hand, has actually gone up. Craig’s Bond is a lush compared to previous ones, and it fits our society, where most places have banned smoking but excess drinking is a staple. From Sexy to Stale The most important thing to look at, though, is sex and its treatment in the Bond series. The old Bonds would be with something like four or five women per movie. There was a brief downturn with Dalton’s Bond being practically a one-woman man in each of his movies. To be fair, that was a response to the AIDS epidemic. (Re-watch “Living Daylights” and think about how Bond has to kill the bad guy to get out of “the friend zone.”) When Brosnan took over the role, Bond’s womanizing went right back up. “Goldeneye” starts with 007 seducing MI6’s human resources girl after a car chase with a bottle of Bollinger that he keeps chilled in the car! In “Tomorrow Never Dies,” he handles exposition while brushing up on “a little Danish.” The Craig movies, on the other hand, have been sexless. They’re downright chaste compared to these modern Bonds—the old ones were practically pornographic. We’re Scared of Heterosexuals This didn’t come from a vacuum. After “Die Another Day,” producers Barbara Broccoli and Michael Wilson must have realized that we don’t do sex in movies anymore. We’re afraid to approach anything that looks like heterosexual relationships in the modern blockbuster. ‘Skyfall’s’ Bond girl is, for all intents and purposes, M. Think about all the superhero movies plaguing the box office. None of them have anything approaching an adult relationship. For all of Black Widow and the Hulk’s hand-wringing about being monsters, they’re never even as convincing as Bond and Tiffany Case (Jill St. John in “Diamonds Are Forever”). “Casino Royale,” to its credit, includes a well-established relationship between Bond and Vesper, but in “Quantum” and “Skyfall” there’s nothing, to the point that “Skyfall’s” Bond girl is, for all intents and purposes, M. Take a look at the opening title sequences for Craig’s movies compared to any previous Bond film. For 21 films, the title sequences were women dancing in silhouette, usually with guns (on Blu-ray they’re less silhouettes and more just nude). By today’s standards those sequences would likely net an R rating. Stop Being Bond For all the progressive sex-positive, do what you want talk out there, movies seem to be downright scared to show anything related to sex. When that attitude comes to Bond, you know it’s taken hold. When added to Bond needing to have someone “in his ear” all the time in “Skyfall,” the general removal of sex and loss of any “sophisticated” vices has taken a character that stood as an intense representation of masculinity and turned him into a unrefined brute, one that must be looked upon as a relic, told what to do by his superiors, and above all kept away from the women. With “Spectre’s” U.S. release, it will be interesting to see if this Bond film marks a return to form for the series, or if it continues to move down the line of taking one of the most distinctive, long-running franchises in movie history and watering it down until it’s but a weak, drunken shadow of its former self. ]]>
    ...
    (Review Source)
  • A Woman's Guide To The 15 Best (And 5 Worst!) James Bond Girls
    (”Die Another Day” is briefly mentioned in this.)
    A Woman’s Guide To The 15 Best (And 5 Worst!) James Bond Girls November 6, 2015 By Mollie Hemingway Spectre, the new James Bond film, is finally out and to mixed reviews. What better time to reflect on the best and worst Bond girls the franchise has ever seen? Bond has changed over the years from a serial seducer of women to a more progressive, if sexually more boring, spy who you wouldn’t be entirely surprised to find out was questioning his sexuality. As Bond has changed, so have the women. But the best Bond women — sometimes villains, sometimes victims, sometimes both — are gorgeous in a swimming suit, tough but vulnerable, and very smart. The worst are gorgeous in a swimming suit, which is not nothing! Here’s a completely arbitrary list of one woman’s favorite and least favorite Bond girls. Feel free to add yours or take issue with my assessment in the comments. Worst: Dr. Christmas Jones The Film: The World Is Not Enough (1999)Played By: Denise RichardsWhy?: “Christmas comes only once a year.” I’m a fan of Richards, whose cinematic achievements include the role of White She Devil in Undercover Brother, the most important film of 2002. Her assets are ample, and there is something charming about her acting limitations. But wow is this bad. Richards plays a brilliant nuclear scientist who wears very little clothing and is named Christmas Jones for the sole reason that the writers wanted to make the joke above. Even for Bond puns, this one’s a croaker. And unfortunately Richards doesn’t hold her own in this very important role. You can watch the worst Christmas puns here. Weakest: Stacey Sutton The Film: A View To A Kill (1985)Played By: Tanya RobertsWhy?: Critics hated this movie. It was more product placement than plot, and Roger Moore was simply too old to play the part. But it had a lot going for it — great song, Christopher Walken as the villain, the amazing Grace Jones doing her thing. But wow was Roberts a weak Bond girl. She said recently that she believed the movie had cursed her from getting subsequent roles. In fact, it may just have been her acting that limited her future prospects. Most Lackluster Character: Solitaire The Film: Live And Let Die (1973)Played By: Jane SeymourWhy?: Seymour is a beautiful woman. Her character was kind of meh and unmemorable. Least Present: Paris Carver The Film: Tomorrow Never Dies (1997)Played By: Teri HatcherWhy?: Hatcher reportedly only took the part to fulfill her husband’s desire to be married to a Bond girl. But even so, her inability to embrace her character was notable. She was also pregnant during filming, so maybe a case of morning sickness kept her from really throwing herself into the subtle and complex character that Bond girls are known for. Most Disappointing: Giacinta “Jinx” Johnson The Film: Die Another Day (2002)Played By: Halle BerryWhy?: No snag. Berry is a gorgeous woman. And her homage to Ursula Andress is great. She played the Bond girl role right after winning an Oscar, making her easily one of the most high-profile Bond girls in history. Which is why her actual role was disappointing. The entire movie was weak, and while her orange bikini is one for the ages, it did a better job of acting than she did. Berry’s character didn’t actually contribute much to the movie’s plot, and she didn’t really seem convincingly interested in Bond or vice versa. OK, now let’s move on to the best Bond girls. #15: Lucia Sciarra The Film: Spectre (2015)Played By: Monica BellucciWhy?: OK, so maybe she won’t deserve to be on this list, but Bellucci is an intriguing choice for Bond girl. She has a powerful screen presence, and at age 50, she’s the oldest Bond girl woman yet. She’s so sexy that she might even reinvigorate Bond’s lagging libido. #14: Mary Goodnight The Film: The Man With The Golden Gun (1974)Played By: Britt EklandWhy?: I have such a strong dislike for the ditzy, pining Bond girl. The one exception is Ekland, who embraces the role and makes it sympathetic and more complex than most others. #13: Tiffany Case The Film: Diamonds Are Forever (1971)Played By: Jill St. JohnWhy?: St. John plays the rival of Plenty O’Toole for Bond’s affections. She wins, in no small part thanks to O’Toole ending up underwater in a pool. Kind of ditzy, but more naive, and very funny for a Bond girl. #12: Andrea Anders/Octopussy The Films: The Man With The Golden Gun (1974) and Octopussy (1983)Played By: Maud AdamsWhy?: Such a good Bond girl, Adams came back for a second round. Her role as Miss Anders is oddly compelling, playing a woman who is in a bad situation and both scared and desperate to get out of it. She is calm and determined, even if she ends up dead. In Octopussy she is less compelling, beginning as a villain (but not much of one) before coming to the good side. #11: Lupe Lamora The Film: License to Kill (1989)Played By: Talisa SotoWhy?: On the strength of her kiss with Bond alone. #10: Pussy Galore The Film: Goldfinger (1964)Played By: Honor BlackmonWhy?: Everything: the name, the fashion, the ridiculous career (leader of a flying circus), the villainy, the humor, and that she is an alluring sex object and five years older than Connery. #9: Jill Masterson The Film: Goldfinger (1964)Played By: Shirley EatonWhy?: Yes, this movie was swimming in good Bond girls. Intelligent and kind, she’s first seen helping Goldfinger cheat at card games. After she betrays him and ends up in bed with Bond, she’s killed in most dramatic fashion (see above!). #8: May Day The Film: A View To A Kill (1985)Played By: Grace JonesWhy?: Everyone hates this film, but I kind of love it because of Jones — one of the most compelling performers around. Even though the movie didn’t do much with her, it did enough. A vicious villain, she is one of the few women convincingly cast as physically dangerous. Her sexual confidence oozes everywhere and is impossible to ignore. She’s tremendously underrated and if you missed this recent New York Times profile, be sure to read it. Also this NSFW hula-hoop performance of “Slave To The Rhythm.” #7: Wai Lin The Film: Tomorrow Never Dies (1997)Played By: Michelle YeohWhy?: She was easily the best thing about this movie and completely held her own against Bond. Not as a Bond girl, per se, but as an action star in her own right. #6: Anya Amasova (Agent Triple X) The Film: The Spy Who Loved Me (1977)Played By: Barbara BachWhy?: I always thought Bach was the perfect Bond girl for a movie whose theme song was “Nobody Does It Better,” sung by Carly Simon. Amasova is a KGB agent who is extremely tough and fearless. And looks great with a gun. #5: Dominetta “Domino” Vitali The Film: Thunderball (1965)Played By: Claudine AugerWhy?: She’s the mistress of the villain but has an immediate connection with Bond when he rescues her in a freak underwater accident. There are so many bathing suits! And they’re all fantastic. Also dramatic rescues. Auger’s Domino is better than Kim Basinger’s later version, but they’re both pretty good. #4: Tracy Bond The Film: On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969)Played By: Diana RiggWhy?: The only woman to marry Bond, and the only Bond woman for George Lazenby. Unlike most Bond girls who just served to advance the plot, Rigg exuded cool in her own right in a way that very few other Bond girls have. #3: Vesper Lynd The Film: Casino Royale (2006)Played By: Eva GreenWhy?: Nearly the platonic ideal of a Bond girl. She was unbelievably sexy and also managed to cultivate a real air of mystery around her character. She was a major reason why the franchise came roaring back. #2: Fiona Volpe The Film: Thunderball (1965)Played By: Luciana PaluzziWhy?: She’s a secondary villain in the movie and so interesting. She also belittles Bond in such a hot way. Right before taking him captive, she says: “But of course, I forgot your ego, Mr. Bond. James Bond, the one where he has to make love to a woman, and she starts to hear heavenly choirs singing. She repents, and turns to the side of right and virtue…but not this one!” Also, her betrayal and death are pretty epic. #1: Honey Ryder The Film: Dr. No (1962)Played By: Ursula AndressWhy?: Mostly the bathing suit, but there is something about Andress that is enchanting even with more clothing. Her speaking and singing parts were dubbed in, but the role she embodied is iconic — a beautiful woman, somewhat liberated from sexual mores, needing the aid of Bond. She added the mystery and gobsmacking beauty that stick with us to this day. Mollie Ziegler Hemingway is a senior editor at The Federalist. Follow her on Twitter at @mzhemingway 007 Barbara Bach Britt Ekland Dr. No James Bond Jill St. John Luciana Paluzzi Monica Bellucci Octopussy Spectre Talisa Soto The Man With The Golden Gun Thunderball Ursula Andress Copyright © 2017 The Federalist, a wholly independent division of FDRLST Media, All Rights Reserved. googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display('div-gpt-ad-1463670073398-2'); }); window._taboola = window._taboola || []; _taboola.push({mode:'thumbs-2r', container:'taboola-below-main-column-mix', placement:'below-main-column', target_type:'mix'}); window._taboola = window._taboola || []; _taboola.push({flush:true}); 0 Comments /* * * CONFIGURATION VARIABLES: EDIT BEFORE PASTING INTO YOUR WEBPAGE * * */ var disqus_shortname = 'thefederalist23'; // required: replace example with your forum shortname /* * * DON'T EDIT BELOW THIS LINE * * */ (function() { var dsq = document.createElement('script'); dsq.type = 'text/javascript'; dsq.async = true; dsq.src = '//' + disqus_shortname + '.disqus.com/embed.js'; (document.getElementsByTagName('head')[0] || document.getElementsByTagName('body')[0]).appendChild(dsq); })(); Please enable JavaScript to view the comments powered by Disqus. comments powered by Disqus ]]>
    ...
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The American Conservative Staff1
The American Conservative



(Reviewers' Site/Bio)

  • Skyfall and Realism
    (”Die Another Day” is briefly mentioned in this.)
    foreign policy politics history film John O’Sullivan concludes a review of Skyfall with an odd comment: Standpoint editor Daniel Johnson tells me that historical research has confirmed that the plot of Greenmantle was rooted in real attempts by Imperial Germany to rouse the masses of the Muslim world against the British empire. Yet it is still oddly topical today. Mutatis mutandis – i.e., Chinese, Russians, or even North Koreans in the role of Kaiser Wilhelm – Greenmantle is a plot waiting to be ripped off for the next Bond movie. It’s true that Germany and its allies tried to stir up the Muslim colonial subjects of its wartime enemies during WWI, but what goes unmentioned here was that these efforts were almost complete failures. Peter Hopkirk wrote a popular history of the German and Ottoman attempt to turn Britain and Russia’s Muslim subjects against them, and it makes for interesting reading. This part of the history of WWI should also teach us that the Germans and Ottomans badly overestimated the effectiveness of pan-Islamist and caliphalist appeals to most Muslims, which should warn us against doing the same thing. If what we want is greater realism, replacing Wilhelmine Germany with Russia or China in a new version of this story would be one of the last things one would want to do. (Putting North Korea in this role would be like giving the script of Die Another Day to the writers of 24.) Unlike Germany in the early twentieth century, Russia and China have strong internal political incentives to discourage Islamic militancy rather than to stoke it. As it happens, they aren’t the states currently aligned with the leading exporters of the most severe and militant forms of Islam. ]]>
    ...
    (Review Source)

Hugh Hewitt1
Salem Radio Network



(Reviewers' Site/Bio)

  • The Regulatory State
    (”Die Another Day” is briefly mentioned in this.)
    If you listened to Hewitt and Arnn yesterday (subscription required) you heard a lot about the Churchillian vision for a united Europe and what the European Union has actually become.  Hewitt kept discussing Brexit in terms of throwing off the regulatory state.  With Obamacare, people are sort of getting a taste of the regulatory state – but even that is indirect, coming to the average consumer in the form of longer lines, higher co-pays and more costly insurance.  The European regulatory state is far more onerous, but it too remains relatively unobtrusive to the average consumer. As a consultant to manufacturers, many of whom sell their goods into Europe, I have a taste of the European regulatory state that I thought I would share.  Most people have heard about “conflict diamonds.”  That is to say diamonds mined in countries that are in a state of conflict with the West in some fashion, they engage in slavery or other generally considered illicit practices.  There was a DiCaprio movie about them some years ago and the Brosnan Bond film “Die Another Day” was about Bond uncovering a huge operation for laundering such diamonds and then using the profits to conquer the world.  Well, there are more than just conflict diamonds, there are conflict minerals generally, and thus in steps the EU.  (For the record, Dodd-Frank contained conflict mineral provisions as well, but it was tacking on to an existing EU effort.) For some of the more rare metals on the planet, there are major sources in the areas that the West deems unsuitable for doing business with where they are mined as ores that qualify as conflict minerals.  The EU wants to make sure no such metals make their way into the hands of their precious citizens lest they be tainted with the illicit practices of the other.  And so come regulations on conflict minerals.  Now, unlike diamonds which have a fairly short path to market, passing through only a few hands, ores that become metals pass through countless hands.  The ore must be refined, and the resulting ingots further refined depending on use.  The resulting metal may then be alloyed and the subsequent alloys shaped, cut and pass through the hands of several distributors before they make their way to the manufacturer that puts them in consumer goods, generally electronics.  There is no need to set up a laundering scheme because the marketplace itself launders the ores so thoroughly that they are virtually impossible to trace.  Unless, of course your are an EU bureaucrat and then you figure it is a “simple” matter of setting up a tracing system. So now, every person or company in that train through which the ore becomes metal becomes parts becomes goods travels have to certify, on paper and in a database, that the products they buy and make do not contain conflict minerals.  For a small electronics manufacturer, say $20-30 million dollars a year gross sales, with 10% of their business selling into Europe, that works out to roughly one 4-drawer filing cabinet of paperwork annually.  For their suppliers and their suppliers suppliers the burden is heavier still. To draw an analogy, suppose in a effort to control the laundering of cash used in drug crimes, the federal government required that you be able to certify that every piece of currency in your possession  had never been used in a drug transaction.  (In 1994 the 9th Circuit determined that at least 75% of currency had seen drugs at some point.)  Thus every dollar bill would have to be accompanied by a certificate from the person that gave it to you, and attached to that certificate would be a certificate from the person that gave it to them, and so on and so on and so on.  Further, you would have to provide such a certificate to the person you gave it to.  Get’s out of hand pretty quickly, doesn’t it? That’s the regulatory state. I don’t think any of us want to enrich bad guys by buying products they have profited in, but at some point we are letting the bad guys control how we do things rather than punishing them for not following our rules.  Yeah, I can see where that is something people might want to throw off. Such things are coming in the US.  California’s “Green Chemistry Initiative” is a similar regulatory scheme designed to keep from consumers any taint of certain materials deemed dangerous, even if there is no proof that in the form they reach the consumer they are in the least bit toxic.  The coal regulations of the Obama administration are not of the same schema, but they come from the same over-controlling impulse.  It is as if they intend to keep us “pure” even if we have no interest in such purity.  There is some point where the human being would rather be a little impure than put up with this over-burdensome nonsense. Built into this over-controlling impulse in the regulatory state is a fundamental misunderstanding of human nature – that we can somehow make ourselves pure.  God created us to be creatures of free will.  The overarching narrative of the Bible is that we used our will to rebel and God tried to get us to behave by rules upon rules.  Eventually He decided that wasn’t working and went about the sacrificial work of remaking us.  No regulatory state can keep us pure.  Only the sacrifice of Christ can purify us. No wonder the regulatory state is so often the godless state. ]]>
    ...
    (Review Source)

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