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A Few Thoughts After Watching Many James Bond Movies
Secret agent movies are superhero movies. 007 is Bond’s heroic codename; James Bond is his secret identity. 007’s most obvious power is the ability to conjure a tuxedo when he needs one. His less-obvious one is the ability to make playing cards do what he needs them to.
Facile feminists dismiss the Sean Connery Bond movies as male fantasies, but smart feminists look harder. The best “Bond girls” always get their moment to shine — two of the first four save Bond by killing the final villain.
Goldfinger has greater moments, but Thunderball is the better movie. I love the underwater scenes, partly because there are no Bond quips, and its sexual politics are more interesting. Domino is a richer character than the earlier Bond girls, there’s a competent female spy, and there’s a capable female antagonist who comments on what I liked least about Pussy Galore, that she has sex with Bond and switches sides.
My favorite Bond setting is the Caribbean, where British imperialism is fading and a new world is being born. But maybe I just like Bond in the Caribbean because I never feel quite comfortable in places filled with white people.
I wish we could have had a Bond movie set in Hong Kong with Chow Yun-Fat as a local British agent—or, better yet, as Bond.
