The other week I happened to watch The Lady from Shanghai (1947), a classic film-noir written and directed by Orson Welles, and starring Welles alongside Rita Hayworth. The film's denouement is set within a deserted amusement park, through which Welles' character, sailor Michael O'Hara, makes his way before reaching the hall of mirrors, where (spoiler alert) he confronts and kills femme fatale Elsa Bannister, (played of course by Hayworth), who set O'Hara up for a murder he didn't commit.
As I was watching the film, I couldn't help thinking of The Man With The Golden Gun (1974), in which Bond makes his way through Scaramanga's private fun house before reaching a hall of mirrors, where he confronts and kills Scaramanga. The mirrored room also appears in the pre-credits sequence where mobster Rodney (Marc Lawrence) tries his luck against Scaramanga.
While the screenwriters of the Bond film (Richard Maibaum and Tom Mankiewicz) need not have been directly influenced by Welles' film, the earlier film reminds us that the idea of a hall of mirrors as a sinister, confusing place was well established by the time The Man With the Golden Gun was made. The film drew on this tradition, and the meme has echoes in other films with mirror-room scenes, such as Enter the Dragon (1974), Conan the Destroyer (1984), and even in Die Another Day (2002), when Bond passes an array of mirror and double-helix-pattern hangings in his search of Zao in the genetic therapy clinic.
If we can count the fun house sequence in The Lady from Shanghai as having a connection with James Bond, then it adds to the short list of existing links. Orson Welles played Le Chiffre in the 1967 version of Casino Royale, and another of Welles' films, The Third Man (1949) is cited by John Glen as having influenced aspects of The Living Daylights, which Glen directed. In his book, The Making of The Living Daylights, Charles Helfenstein describes how John Glen worked on The Third Man (as did another Bond director, Guy Hamilton) as a sound editor, and that the sound of the film's famous footsteps are his. Helfenstein also points out that Ian Fleming chose the 'Harry Lime theme' (Welles' character in The Third Man), as one of his 'Desert Island Discs'.
Friday, 22 January 2016
Thursday, 14 January 2016
Did the Baftas snub Spectre?
The film award season is well underway. Spectre won the award for Best Original Song at the Golden Globes, and the theme song is now up for an Academy Award (come back, Sam Smith, all is forgiven). The lack of other awards or nominations here isn't particularly surprising, especially given Spectre's lukewarm critical reception in the US.
The picture in the UK, however, is rather more curious. When the nominees for the 2016 Baftas were announced last week, there was one notable omission: Spectre hadn't been given the nod in a single category, including the technical categories. Was this a deliberate snub by BAFTA members, reflecting a degree of snobbery towards the Bond films, or was Spectre simply not that good?
When Dame Pippa Harris, chair of the BAFTA film committee, was asked by the BBC's arts editor, Will Gompertz, why Spectre (and Star Wars: The Force Awakens) had been overlooked, she gave an interesting answer: “There's a tendency with both comedies and action films for awards, generally speaking, to overlook them... When it comes to the awards season, people tend to look at what they consider to be serious dramas.”
I think Dame Pippa is being a little disingenuous here. It's true that over the course of the Bond series, few films have been recognised by BAFTA (though in fairness, the technical categories were only introduced in 1984), but Daniel Craig's Bond films have been lauded by members. Skyfall received eight nominations in 2013, while in 2007 Casino Royale received nine. Even Quantum of Solace, which divided critics, Bond fans and general cinema-goers alike, received two nominations in 2009. Overall, then, the lack of nominations for Spectre does raise a Roger Moore-like eyebrow.
Two aspects interest me. First, Dame Pippa's response, effectively that action films can't compete with serious films, is something of a common trope, a meme that may have been true in the past, but less so now. Indeed, it belies BAFTA's own recent history (and in any case, what is Mad Max: Fury Road, which has received seven nominations, if not an action film?).
Second, why wasn't Spectre nominated? There could be all sorts of reasons related to the competition from other films or the quality of the film itself; possibly a bit of both. I wonder, though, whether the lack of nominations reveals something about the perception of Spectre and its place in the Bond series.
Daniel Craig's Bond films have been exceptional, being both highly popular and well received critically, and winning over many who would not have regarded themselves as Bond fans. Spectre does, however, seem to mark a turning point. With the re-introduction of a villain of old, the reinstatement of the gunbarrel to the beginning of the film, the upping of the humour level, and a bonkers plot twist, Spectre begins to look more, well, traditional.
Perhaps that's how BAFTA members saw it. Spectacular and enjoyable as it was, the film was an excellent Bond film, but not an excellent film. One for the fans, to be judged against other Bond films only, just like most Bond films before Casino Royale. (Up till then, only Goldeneye (I think) had been nominated for a Bafta, despite many of the Bond films, particularly the Brosnan-era ones, enjoying very positive reviews on their release.)
So did Bafta snub Spectre? Probably not. But perhaps it was a case of Spectre returning to the mean. Normal service has resumed. For a Bond film to be nominated for awards, it needs to diverge significantly from the traditional structure of the series, and jettison once again some of those standard Bond memes.
Sunday, 10 January 2016
Aspects of the James Bond books possibly inspired by Robert Harling
One of the most fascinating books among the recent crop of Bond-related publications is Ian Fleming: A Personal Memoir (2015) by Robert Harling, published by the Robson Press. Robert Harling became a close friend of Ian Fleming, having met him just before the outbreak of the Second World War, then serving in the Fleming's commando unit, the 30 Assault Unit, and meeting regularly after the war to dine and talk about their shared interests: printing, typography, intrigue, and women.
In the book, Robert Harling reminisces about his time with Fleming and recounts their numerous conversations (some, particularly those concerning women and sex, making slightly uncomfortable reading). The book offers a unique insight into Fleming's wartime experiences, his complicated and troubled personal life during and after the war, and his decline in health.
The book also identifies some of the seeds that would lead to the creation of James Bond. It was, after all, to Harling, following a visit to Oxford together, that Fleming announced that after the war, he was going to write the spy novel to end all spy novels.
As I was reading the book, a number of incidences and conversations reminded me of aspects of the Bond novels. Harling does not explicitly make the connections, but it is interesting to speculate that Harling was responsible for introducing ideas into Fleming's mind that would later be expressed in Bond's adventures.
For example, during a meal at Scott's, Fleming and Harling discussed a trip that Harling had made to Turkey. Harling described to Fleming a remarkable man he met in Istanbul: one Vladimir Wolfson, a White Russian who defected to Britain, attended Cambridge, was recruited by naval intelligence, and became SIS's resident in Istanbul. Something of a fixer, Wolfson supplied Harling with much-needed maps and charts, ensure that Harling was able to freely explore the city, and generally made Harling's stay in the city a very comfortable one. “Made for the job?”, Fleming asked of Wolfson. “Absolutely” came Harling's reply. Reading this, one cannot help recalling Darko Kerim, head of station T (Turkey) in From Russia, with Love (1957).
We also meet Captain Lewes, who during the war was an intelligence chief-of-staff with Allied Naval Commander Expeditionary Force and was naturally known to Fleming. Harling describes Lewes as a pompous, officious officer, whose busy-bodying rubbed members of 30 AU the wrong way. Lewes “had also become a tetchy stickler for traditional naval discipline and dignity,” writes Harling. Remind you of anyone? Possibly Captain Troop, the Secret Service's paymaster, who, according to Fleming in From Russia, with Love, has “qualities which irritate and abrade”, and is “parsimonious, observant, prying and meticulous” and “a strong disciplinarian and indifferent to opinion”.
During one of their many conversations after the war, Ian Fleming revealed to Robert Harling that he had finished writing his first spy book – Casino Royale (1953). Fleming asked Harling what he thought of the name of his hero, James Bond. “Not in the same league as Sherlock Holmes... but brief and memorable,” Harling decided. When asked what name he would choose, Harling replied that he might borrow the name of one of Fleming's friends, Hilary Bray. Fleming must have thought he was onto something, because ten years later Bond would assume the identity of a fictional Hilary Bray in On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1963).
Harling also imagined Bond as a married man, suggesting to Fleming during lunch in the late 1950s or early 1960s that he write a new set of novels featuring the action duo of James and Jemima Bond. Fleming jokingly dismissed the suggestion, but curiously Bond would marry in, once again, On Her Majesty's Secret Service (although it is worth noting that thriller writer Raymond Chandler also discussed the idea with Fleming of Bond marrying) and Jemima would be used as the name of one of Commander Pott's children in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (1964).
Robert Harling's recollections are funny, engaging, surprising and moving. They are also self-effacing; Harling omits to mention that he was immortalised in two Bond novels – Thunderball and The Spy Who Loved Me – or that he was responsible for the tea-chest font that adorned the celebrated Chopping covers of the Bond series, and does not entertain the possibility that he was an inspiration for the character of Bond.
Reading his book, it seems possible that Harling left his mark on the Bond books in other ways. Robert Harling's memoir is essential reading that no aficionado of Fleming and Bond fan should be without.
In the book, Robert Harling reminisces about his time with Fleming and recounts their numerous conversations (some, particularly those concerning women and sex, making slightly uncomfortable reading). The book offers a unique insight into Fleming's wartime experiences, his complicated and troubled personal life during and after the war, and his decline in health.
The book also identifies some of the seeds that would lead to the creation of James Bond. It was, after all, to Harling, following a visit to Oxford together, that Fleming announced that after the war, he was going to write the spy novel to end all spy novels.
As I was reading the book, a number of incidences and conversations reminded me of aspects of the Bond novels. Harling does not explicitly make the connections, but it is interesting to speculate that Harling was responsible for introducing ideas into Fleming's mind that would later be expressed in Bond's adventures.
For example, during a meal at Scott's, Fleming and Harling discussed a trip that Harling had made to Turkey. Harling described to Fleming a remarkable man he met in Istanbul: one Vladimir Wolfson, a White Russian who defected to Britain, attended Cambridge, was recruited by naval intelligence, and became SIS's resident in Istanbul. Something of a fixer, Wolfson supplied Harling with much-needed maps and charts, ensure that Harling was able to freely explore the city, and generally made Harling's stay in the city a very comfortable one. “Made for the job?”, Fleming asked of Wolfson. “Absolutely” came Harling's reply. Reading this, one cannot help recalling Darko Kerim, head of station T (Turkey) in From Russia, with Love (1957).
We also meet Captain Lewes, who during the war was an intelligence chief-of-staff with Allied Naval Commander Expeditionary Force and was naturally known to Fleming. Harling describes Lewes as a pompous, officious officer, whose busy-bodying rubbed members of 30 AU the wrong way. Lewes “had also become a tetchy stickler for traditional naval discipline and dignity,” writes Harling. Remind you of anyone? Possibly Captain Troop, the Secret Service's paymaster, who, according to Fleming in From Russia, with Love, has “qualities which irritate and abrade”, and is “parsimonious, observant, prying and meticulous” and “a strong disciplinarian and indifferent to opinion”.
During one of their many conversations after the war, Ian Fleming revealed to Robert Harling that he had finished writing his first spy book – Casino Royale (1953). Fleming asked Harling what he thought of the name of his hero, James Bond. “Not in the same league as Sherlock Holmes... but brief and memorable,” Harling decided. When asked what name he would choose, Harling replied that he might borrow the name of one of Fleming's friends, Hilary Bray. Fleming must have thought he was onto something, because ten years later Bond would assume the identity of a fictional Hilary Bray in On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1963).
Harling also imagined Bond as a married man, suggesting to Fleming during lunch in the late 1950s or early 1960s that he write a new set of novels featuring the action duo of James and Jemima Bond. Fleming jokingly dismissed the suggestion, but curiously Bond would marry in, once again, On Her Majesty's Secret Service (although it is worth noting that thriller writer Raymond Chandler also discussed the idea with Fleming of Bond marrying) and Jemima would be used as the name of one of Commander Pott's children in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (1964).
Robert Harling's recollections are funny, engaging, surprising and moving. They are also self-effacing; Harling omits to mention that he was immortalised in two Bond novels – Thunderball and The Spy Who Loved Me – or that he was responsible for the tea-chest font that adorned the celebrated Chopping covers of the Bond series, and does not entertain the possibility that he was an inspiration for the character of Bond.
Reading his book, it seems possible that Harling left his mark on the Bond books in other ways. Robert Harling's memoir is essential reading that no aficionado of Fleming and Bond fan should be without.
Sunday, 3 January 2016
Why and how did Kingsley Amis write Colonel Sun?
The writer and critic Kingsley Amis wrote a fair bit about James Bond. Using the name William Tanner, M's chief-of-staff, he wrote The Book of Bond, or Every Man his Own 007 (1965), a guide for wannabe James Bonds about what to eat and drink, what to read, what to wear, what to say, and so on. The James Bond Dossier, one of the earliest critical examinations of the James Bond novels, was published in the same year, this time under Amis' own name, while 1968 saw the publication of the first continuation Bond novel, Colonel Sun, written by Amis under the pseudonym Robert Markham.
But that's not all. To coincide with the publication of Colonel Sun, Kingsley Amis wrote an article, 'The new James Bond', about why he took up the challenge of writing a Bond novel and how he developed some of the ideas that would feature in the book. The article was republished, along with other literary musings originally published in the New Statesman, the Spectator, the Sunday Telegraph and other periodicals, in What Became of Jane Austen? and Other Questions (1970, Jonathan Cape).
The essay offers a fascinating insight into the process of creating a James Bond novel, though no less interesting is Kingsley Amis' explanation for picking up Bond's adventures where Ian Fleming left off. Yes, money was a consideration, but so too, more curiously, was the thought how cross with Amis the intellectual Left would get. Amis was amused at how the same left-wing critics would accuse him both of writing the book for financial reward and also of embracing the ideology of Fleming and Bond.
On that point, Kingsley Amis does concede that, like Bond, he is “pro-Western, pro-British, even, by and large, pro-American”, putting him at odds with the intellectual Left, whose favoured literary spies, he considered, were those created by Len Deighton and John le CarrĂ©. Above all, though, Amis thought it “an honour to have been selected to follow in the footsteps of Ian Fleming”.
As Mark Amory suggests, much of Amis' reasoning may have designed to address the criticisms not of the intellectual Left, but of the right-wing Ann Fleming, who was scathing of Amis' selection and efforts. “It's a left-wing plot”, she wrote in a letter to Evelyn Waugh, and in an unpublished review of Colonel Sun, considered that Amis would “slip 'Lucky Jim' into Bond's clothing.” Amis alluded to Ann's criticism when he wrote in his piece that “fears were expressed in some quarters that I might produce a sort of Lucky Jim Bond”.
As for the ideas that contributed to Colonel Sun itself, Kingsley Amis chose Greece as a location for Bond's adventure because Bond had never been there and the eastern Mediterranean was a region of British and Russian interests. But considering the traditional Britain-versus-Russia set-up too old-hat (to some extent echoing the policy of the makers of the Bond films who had shied away from having Russia as the main adversary), Amis instead created a Chinese threat and had Bond team up with a Russian agent (some ten years before the film Bond would join forces with a Russian agent).
The starting point of Colonel Sun, set as it was in the Home Counties, was determined by the close proximity of Sunningdale (a golf-course frequented by Bond), M's house in Windsor, and Heathrow (then London) Airport. Lacking the experience to plausibly take Bond skiing or gambling, Amis returned Bond to the golf course. While Amis had never played golf, he was able to take advice from a friend who had.
Amis did, however, draw heavily on his wartime experiences to arm Bond and to put Bond in realistic situations for which the use of Second World War firearms and hand-grenades were appropriate. His intention was to make Bond a “gun and fists man”, in contrast, as he saw it, with the gadget-laden hero of the films. Amis also took a tour, notebook in hand, of the Greek mainland and the islands of Naxos and Ios.
Just as Kingsley Amis followed in Ian Fleming's footsteps with the writing of Colonel Sun, he also followed in Fleming's footsteps with his article, as in 1962 Fleming prepared an article called 'How to write a thriller'. In fact, it has become something of a tradition for Bond novel authors to write about their experiences creating new adventures for Bond. The paperback edition of Devil May Care (2009) included a short essay about how Sebastian Faulks wrote the novel, and Jeffery Deaver published a piece on writing Carte Blanche in 2011. All are well worth a read.
Reference:
Amory, M (ed.), 1985 The Letters of Ann Fleming, Collins Harvill
But that's not all. To coincide with the publication of Colonel Sun, Kingsley Amis wrote an article, 'The new James Bond', about why he took up the challenge of writing a Bond novel and how he developed some of the ideas that would feature in the book. The article was republished, along with other literary musings originally published in the New Statesman, the Spectator, the Sunday Telegraph and other periodicals, in What Became of Jane Austen? and Other Questions (1970, Jonathan Cape).
The essay offers a fascinating insight into the process of creating a James Bond novel, though no less interesting is Kingsley Amis' explanation for picking up Bond's adventures where Ian Fleming left off. Yes, money was a consideration, but so too, more curiously, was the thought how cross with Amis the intellectual Left would get. Amis was amused at how the same left-wing critics would accuse him both of writing the book for financial reward and also of embracing the ideology of Fleming and Bond.
On that point, Kingsley Amis does concede that, like Bond, he is “pro-Western, pro-British, even, by and large, pro-American”, putting him at odds with the intellectual Left, whose favoured literary spies, he considered, were those created by Len Deighton and John le CarrĂ©. Above all, though, Amis thought it “an honour to have been selected to follow in the footsteps of Ian Fleming”.
As Mark Amory suggests, much of Amis' reasoning may have designed to address the criticisms not of the intellectual Left, but of the right-wing Ann Fleming, who was scathing of Amis' selection and efforts. “It's a left-wing plot”, she wrote in a letter to Evelyn Waugh, and in an unpublished review of Colonel Sun, considered that Amis would “slip 'Lucky Jim' into Bond's clothing.” Amis alluded to Ann's criticism when he wrote in his piece that “fears were expressed in some quarters that I might produce a sort of Lucky Jim Bond”.
As for the ideas that contributed to Colonel Sun itself, Kingsley Amis chose Greece as a location for Bond's adventure because Bond had never been there and the eastern Mediterranean was a region of British and Russian interests. But considering the traditional Britain-versus-Russia set-up too old-hat (to some extent echoing the policy of the makers of the Bond films who had shied away from having Russia as the main adversary), Amis instead created a Chinese threat and had Bond team up with a Russian agent (some ten years before the film Bond would join forces with a Russian agent).
The starting point of Colonel Sun, set as it was in the Home Counties, was determined by the close proximity of Sunningdale (a golf-course frequented by Bond), M's house in Windsor, and Heathrow (then London) Airport. Lacking the experience to plausibly take Bond skiing or gambling, Amis returned Bond to the golf course. While Amis had never played golf, he was able to take advice from a friend who had.
Amis did, however, draw heavily on his wartime experiences to arm Bond and to put Bond in realistic situations for which the use of Second World War firearms and hand-grenades were appropriate. His intention was to make Bond a “gun and fists man”, in contrast, as he saw it, with the gadget-laden hero of the films. Amis also took a tour, notebook in hand, of the Greek mainland and the islands of Naxos and Ios.
Just as Kingsley Amis followed in Ian Fleming's footsteps with the writing of Colonel Sun, he also followed in Fleming's footsteps with his article, as in 1962 Fleming prepared an article called 'How to write a thriller'. In fact, it has become something of a tradition for Bond novel authors to write about their experiences creating new adventures for Bond. The paperback edition of Devil May Care (2009) included a short essay about how Sebastian Faulks wrote the novel, and Jeffery Deaver published a piece on writing Carte Blanche in 2011. All are well worth a read.
Reference:
Amory, M (ed.), 1985 The Letters of Ann Fleming, Collins Harvill
Monday, 21 December 2015
James Bond at Christmas - two Daily Express Bond film adaptations
Who wrote the first novelisation of a James Bond film? Christopher Wood, you say? His well-regarded work, James Bond and the Spy who Loved Me (1977) was certainly the earliest adaptation to appear in book form, but there were earlier novelisations – of sorts. In the run-up to Christmas 1971, readers of the Daily Express were treated to the serialisation by Victor Davis of the film version of Diamonds Are Forever. Three years later, again during the Christmas period, Victor Davis adapted the film of The Man With The Golden Gun (1974).
The adaptation of Diamonds Are Forever was published over seven days from 17th to 24th December 1971. The structure and plot of the adaptation naturally closely followed that of the film. In Part 1 ('Blofeld was dead – but one question still nagged Bond'), Bond is on the search for Blofeld, just as he is in the film. Part 2 ('Two hired thugs and a cool dish called Tiffany'), we are introduced to villains Wint and Kidd and leading lady Tiffany Case, and in Part 3 ('Bond moves fast – and it's death by fire extinguisher'), Bond assumes the identity of diamond smuggler Peter Franks.
Part 4 ('The mob breaks up Bond's cosy date') sees the brief appearance of Plenty O'Toole, while Part 5 ('Two wheel drive – as Bond steers to safety') describes the car chase through Las Vegas. 'Blofeld comes back from the dead' is the title of Part 6, and the final offering on Christmas Eve is 'Bond gets a kiss with several kicks', a part that, as you might guess, features Bambi and Thumper.
Despite the somewhat uneven plotting – the helicopter raid on Blofeld's oil rig is described in two short paragraphs, while Bond's tussle with Bambi and Thumper is dealt with in nine – Victor Davis' adaptation is readable and exciting (no mean feat, given the challenge of condensing the script), and replicates to some extent the literary style of Ian Fleming. The best of Davis' Fleming-esque touches can be found in Part 1. Take this paragraph, for example:
Or this one:
In Part 1 ('Who'd pay a million dollars to kill me?'), Bond receives the bullet on which his code number has been inscribed. Bond goes on the trail of the source of the bullet in Part 2 ('Sudden ambush by a very naked lady'), while Part 3 ('With eyes glazed, she was beautiful – dead beautiful') sees the death of Andrea Anders. Bond flies onto Scaramanga's island in Part 4 ('Champagne on the rocks with a bullet to pop the cork'), and in the final part ('A duel to the death as Scaramanga lays a trap in the fatal funhouse'), Bond goes head to head with Scaramanga.
Again, the sub-Fleming touches are there:
Both adaptations by Victor Davis are interesting early entries in the sub-genre of continuation Bond – the film novelisation – and are well worth reading.
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| The banner for the Daily Express adaptation |
Part 4 ('The mob breaks up Bond's cosy date') sees the brief appearance of Plenty O'Toole, while Part 5 ('Two wheel drive – as Bond steers to safety') describes the car chase through Las Vegas. 'Blofeld comes back from the dead' is the title of Part 6, and the final offering on Christmas Eve is 'Bond gets a kiss with several kicks', a part that, as you might guess, features Bambi and Thumper.
Despite the somewhat uneven plotting – the helicopter raid on Blofeld's oil rig is described in two short paragraphs, while Bond's tussle with Bambi and Thumper is dealt with in nine – Victor Davis' adaptation is readable and exciting (no mean feat, given the challenge of condensing the script), and replicates to some extent the literary style of Ian Fleming. The best of Davis' Fleming-esque touches can be found in Part 1. Take this paragraph, for example:
“The urgency of the call would normally have given Bond that familiar charge of excitement, a heightened sense of perception that had always gone with the knowledge that he was about to be handed a new assignment in the field.”
Or this one:
“Bond smiled thinly at remembrance of the arduous and murderous trail that had led him across the world.”Victor Davis knows his Fleming. Three years later, Bond was back in an adaptation of The Man With the Golden Gun. This time spread over five parts, the story ran from 16th to 20th December 1974.
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| Bond and Goodnight in the Daily Express |
Again, the sub-Fleming touches are there:
“Miss Moneypenny,far from her usual flirtatious self, ushered him straight through M's steel-plated and soundproofed door into the sanctum that the head of the British Secret Service had dressed overall more like a naval museum.
“James Bond's amused eyes passed lightly over the prints of the wooden ships of England, dashing in under French and Spanish cannon, and the rest of the mementoes, the flotsam of a distinguished seadog's life.”
Both adaptations by Victor Davis are interesting early entries in the sub-genre of continuation Bond – the film novelisation – and are well worth reading.
Sunday, 13 December 2015
The James Bond references in Spy (2015)
This year has seen the
release of a higher than usual number of spy films, but I have to
confess that I have not been keeping up with what has been termed the
Year of the Spy, having missed almost every spy film released. (I did, of course, ensure I was in the cinema for Spectre.) The
other week, however, I was able to catch up with one of the other
entries in the unofficial series. And I'm very glad I did.
Spy is an espionage
comedy, but is more than a parody of the spy film genre, offering
genuine thrills, plenty of action, and an engaging plot. Essentially,
the film answers the question of what would happen if Miss Moneypenny
became James Bond. After the apparent death of an agent, the film
sees desk-bound analyst, Susan Cooper (Melissa McCarthy), go into the
field as an undercover agent to monitor and report the activities of
an arms dealer, Rayna Boyanov (Rose Byrne), who knows the location of
a stolen nuclear device. Needless to say, events do not run smoothly,
and very quickly Susan Cooper goes beyond her orders as she tries to
prevent nuclear disaster.
Director Paul Feig
reportedly conceived the film as a humorous Casino Royale (2006), a
favourite film of his, and it shows. Spy contains many nods to the
James Bond films, in particular the classic films of Sean Connery and
the more recent offerings of Daniel Craig.
The film opens with a
pre-titles sequence featuring the cool, witty and dinner-suited
Bradley Fine (Jude Law) – clearly a James Bond figure – in the
course of a mission, with Barry-esque strains playing over the
action. This is followed by a perfectly Bondian title sequence,
accompanied by the equally Bondian song, 'Who can you trust?' (a
title that might apply just as well to any of Daniel Craig's Bond
films).
The Bond references
keep on coming. We are introduced, for example, to Patrick (Michael
McDonald), a Q-like character who supplies Susan Cooper with her
equipment. Susan's visit to Patrick's workshop could almost have been
lifted straight out of a Bond film. Equipment is hidden inside
mundane items, and the scene includes gadgets being demonstrated (and
going wrong) in the background. We also catch a glimpse of an Aston
Martin (in this case a DB9).
Susan subsequently
travels to Rome and visits a casino to keep close to Rayna Boyanov.
Susan notices a waiter pour some poison into a cocktail intended for
Rayna, and alerts Rayna to the threat in order to make contact with
her. The poisoned cocktail naturally recalls the poisoned Vesper
martini in Casino Royale. A private gambling room into which
Susan stumbles is also reminiscent of Casino Royale.
In the casino, too, we
see Jason Statham's rogue CIA agent Rick Ford (is there any other
kind of agent these days?) in a white dinner jacket, presumably a nod
to Bond's white jacket in Goldfinger (1964). Goldfinger is referenced
again shortly afterwards when Susan is facing a suspicious Rayna
outside the casino. Rayna's henchmen stand behind Susan, and when
they lift their guns as if about to shoot Susan, she sees a
reflection of their movements in Rayna's pendent. This brings to mind
the pre-titles sequence in Goldfinger, when Bond sees the movement of
a would-be killer reflected in the eyes of an exotic dancer. A later
scene in which gun shots inside a plane depressurise the cabin must
also allude to Goldfinger, specifically the well-known scene in which
Goldfinger is sucked out of the plane.
There are doubtless
other references, but those are the ones I spotted on first viewing. Throughout the film, however, Spy is an affectionate
tribute to the Bond series, and contains the sort of exciting stunts,
action and thrills that we'd expect to see in any Bond film. What's
more, Spy is hilarious, and (I never thought I'd say this) Jason
Statham is a revelation, as he sends up his tough-guy persona. The
film is a must-see for any Bond fan.
Thursday, 3 December 2015
The evolution of the SPECTRE symbol
The name of SPECTRE isn't the only aspect of the organisation last seen – officially, at least – in Diamonds Are Forever to have been resurrected in the latest James Bond film. The organisation's octopus-like symbol made an appearance too.
The motif has seen a number of changes over the years. The first time we see the SPECTRE symbol is at a chess match in From Russia With Love (1963). The symbol is on a paper coaster delivered with a glass of water and a summons for Kronsteen, a chess grandmaster and SPECTRE agent. The symbol, with its four wavy tentacles and ghoulish head, is less an octopus than a jellyfish out for an evening's trick or treating. The device is seen again as an intaglio on a ring worn by Blofeld.
The SPECTRE symbol next makes an appearance in Thunderball (1965), placed in a ring worn by SPECTRE No. 2, Emilio Largo. This time, the device is more octopus-like, presumably symbolising SPECTRE'S reach and omnipresence. The outer tentacles curve round to enclose the others, perhaps as much to fit the circular frame of the ring as for aesthetic reasons. The facial features of the octopus are reduced to alien-like eyes.
The design is largely retained for You Only Live Twice (1967) and is seen on a ring worn by Blofeld. In Diamonds Are Forever (1971), however, the symbol is rather different. Adorning the front of Blofeld's bath-o-sub, the octopus has gained a thicker body and straighter and broader outer tentacles, giving the impression perhaps of an octopus wearing a cape or shawl. The eyes, though, remain alien-like.
With SPECTRE off the screen until the latest film (apart from Never Say Never Again), there have been no developments in the symbol in the intervening period (although Stromberg's Atlantis has a certain resemblance to the octopus device). Almost to make up for it, however, Spectre (2015) contains two designs. Teaser posters for the film cleverly incorporated the octopus symbol within bullet-damaged glass, the tentacles and body being formed by the fissures surrounding the bullet hole. A similar motif was created within the film itself.
SPECTRE itself adopts a more corporate-looking octopus logo, which is seen on the outside surface of a ring and on a computer screen. The body of this octopus is relatively thin and wide, while the tentacles are short and curve towards the centre, except the central tentacle, which is longer than the others and is straight and tapers like a dagger. Interestingly, the octopus only has seven tentacles. It's also worth noting that the 'shoulders' of the octopus are raised, and that the head lacks eyes.
Each incarnation of the SPECTRE/octopus motif is obviously different from the last, yet each could not have existed without those that preceded it. The exception is, of course, the first incarnation, and it is telling that in that case, the motif looks the least like an octopus, as if the designer was influenced mainly, if not solely, by the principal meaning of the word 'spectre'. It is possible that its resemblance to an octopus was coincidental, but was enough to influence the design of the symbol two films later.
There is one other comparison worth making. The Batman symbol has had a long history and has undergone many changes, far more than we have seen on the SPECTRE device. What is curious, though, is that the various designs of the SPECTRE symbol share certain traits with roughly contemporaneous Batman motifs. Thus, the octopus motif of Thunderball and You Only Live Twice has curved, enclosing sides, as does the bat motif used in Batman comics in 1964 and 1965. The thicker body and straight sides of the octopus in Diamonds Are Forever mirrors the thicker body and straighter sides of the bat motif that appeared in the 1966 TV series and in comics in 1970. The spidery lines seen in Spectre's 'bullet-hole' octopus recall the scored appearance of the bat motif used for The Dark Knight Rises in 2012. The official octopus symbol seen on the 2015 ring, meanwhile, has leaner qualities matched by bat motifs used in Batman Begins (2005) and later in comics, and itself has a vague appearance of a flying creature.
These similarities are no doubt coincidental, am I am not suggesting that the motifs resemble each other in any significant way. However, sharing certain traits, the motifs suggest a common aesthetic, the designers responding to an extent to the same influences or selection pressures within the cultural environment (although the apparent influence of Christopher Nolan's Batman films specifically on the Bond films has been noted elsewhere).
The SPECTRE symbol has seen a number of changes over the past 50 years, but remains a important and recognisable piece of Bondian iconography in popular culture and a potent symbol for James Bond's most tenacious adversary.
Note: The Batman logos are taken from an infographic published on the World of Superheroes website.
The motif has seen a number of changes over the years. The first time we see the SPECTRE symbol is at a chess match in From Russia With Love (1963). The symbol is on a paper coaster delivered with a glass of water and a summons for Kronsteen, a chess grandmaster and SPECTRE agent. The symbol, with its four wavy tentacles and ghoulish head, is less an octopus than a jellyfish out for an evening's trick or treating. The device is seen again as an intaglio on a ring worn by Blofeld.
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| From Russia With Love |
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| Thunderball |
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| Diamonds Are Forever |
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| Spectre teaser poster |
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| Spectre ring 2015 |
There is one other comparison worth making. The Batman symbol has had a long history and has undergone many changes, far more than we have seen on the SPECTRE device. What is curious, though, is that the various designs of the SPECTRE symbol share certain traits with roughly contemporaneous Batman motifs. Thus, the octopus motif of Thunderball and You Only Live Twice has curved, enclosing sides, as does the bat motif used in Batman comics in 1964 and 1965. The thicker body and straight sides of the octopus in Diamonds Are Forever mirrors the thicker body and straighter sides of the bat motif that appeared in the 1966 TV series and in comics in 1970. The spidery lines seen in Spectre's 'bullet-hole' octopus recall the scored appearance of the bat motif used for The Dark Knight Rises in 2012. The official octopus symbol seen on the 2015 ring, meanwhile, has leaner qualities matched by bat motifs used in Batman Begins (2005) and later in comics, and itself has a vague appearance of a flying creature.
These similarities are no doubt coincidental, am I am not suggesting that the motifs resemble each other in any significant way. However, sharing certain traits, the motifs suggest a common aesthetic, the designers responding to an extent to the same influences or selection pressures within the cultural environment (although the apparent influence of Christopher Nolan's Batman films specifically on the Bond films has been noted elsewhere).
The SPECTRE symbol has seen a number of changes over the past 50 years, but remains a important and recognisable piece of Bondian iconography in popular culture and a potent symbol for James Bond's most tenacious adversary.
Note: The Batman logos are taken from an infographic published on the World of Superheroes website.
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