Sunday, December 25, 2022

Santa Claus Conquers the Martians

 What is a movie that's so bad, it's good? For many, there are some movies that are just so awful, so dreadful, so pathetic that the reaction paradoxically is joy and laughter. The most common example tends to be The Room, the Tommy Wiseau...I don't even know what to call it. Drama, I guess? Sure, drama. The Room became so trashed that its ridicule helped lead it to cult status, raucous midnight showings, and even a Hollywood film about its creation.

Many have argued that Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, the 1964 sci-fi family film often regarded as one of cinema's worst ever, is one such film that's so bad, it's good. I disagree. It's just bad. I didn't like The Room, but I understand that it's likely because I watched it by myself. What's the fun in that? But even a large, participatory, stoned audience to join me, I can't imagine liking Santa Claus Conquers the Martians anymore than I did. Santa Claus Conquers the Martians is basically what you would expect it to be: one of the most bizarre movies you can watch in the public domain (or any domain, for that matter), more 1960s than if an episode of The Monkees and a episode of Batman had a baby that was addicted to dropping acid and wore bell-bottom jeans.

The film opens with a catchy yet awfully annoying song titled "Hurray for Santy Claus!", written by Milton DeLugg, who at one point was the musical director for The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. After the credits and song finish, we're on Mars, where two Martian children in green clothes and green face paint sit fixated on their TV sets. Kimar, the king of the Martians played by Leonard Hicks, notices that all the children of Mars are glued to the TV sets watching "Earth programs," unable to express love and act as children (or at least Earth children; how very speciesist of the film). After seeking the counsel of the wise, 800-year-old sage Chochem (Carl Donn), Kimar becomes convinced that the Martians must journey to Earth and take Santa (played by veteran actor John Call) back to Mars to bring happiness to all the young Martians.

The best-laid plans of green men often go awry, and things quickly do as soon as they take orbit. Comic relief characters like Dropo (Bill McCutcheon) and the villainous, hawkish Voldor (Vincent Beck) often get in Kimar's way, as do two young Earth children named Billy and Betty (Victor Stiles and Donna Conforti). Kimar calmly explains to the kids that they're from Mars and they're looking for Santa, and Billy calmly replies that they can find him at the North Pole. That should be the end of that, until Voldor convinces Kimar that they must take the two of them back with them before they "alert the authorities." Along with Santa, they both are imprisoned and taken to Mars.

As you can tell, it's unlikely that most of those involved took this too seriously (though Beck and Hicks really commit more than they should). However, Paul L. Jacobson, who produced the film and wrote its atrocious script, could have at least tried a little harder. There are odd, topical (at the time) jokes (Santa confuses Blitzen with Nixon, for example) and copious amounts of uncomfortable laughing from literally every character, making everything seem even stranger. Admittedly, it is a bit humorous when the Martians finally reach Earth and see thousands of Santas on the city streets, and they're not sure which one is the real deal. I think that was the only part I liked.

Since sort of being rediscovered for an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000 in the early 1990s, Santa Claus Conquers the Martians sometimes appears in movie trivia. For example, the movie marks the film debut of singer and actress Pia Zadora, seventeen years before the Golden Globes controversy in which some allege her millionaire husband at the time essentially bought her win for New Star of the Year Award for the panned erotic crime drama Butterfly (the same role in which she won Worst Actress from the Raspberry Awards). Additionally, believe it or not, Santa Claus Conquers the Martians features the very first on-screen portrayal of Mrs. Claus (played here by Doris Rich), just three weeks before the character appeared in the much more famous and respected animated program Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer on NBC. Finally, the film shares some of the same stock footage as Dr. Strangelove, so that's something.   

But those interesting bits of trivia cannot save this film. Santa Claus Conquers the Martians is the rare movie I watch and just have no idea what I'm watching. It may seem like I'm kicking a movie while it's down, or that perhaps I shouldn't pick on such a movie that had no intention of being taken too seriously, but what I've written is not unfair. Apparently, Jacobson really, truly thought he was on to something here and that he knew how to make a great flick for kids. He did not. It's not clear what people thought of it at the time because there were not many reviews of it when it premiered. One, though, from Howard Thompson of the New York Times, actually more or less praises the film. "Adults may find it square-cut as cheese," he wrote. "But let's face it. From now till you-know-when, the youngsters are all that matter." That may be true, but surely they deserve better than Santa Claus Conquers the Martians.


This review originally appeared at the Public Domain Film Review on December 25, 2020.  

Saturday, November 5, 2022

Weird: The Al Yankovic Story (And a List of the Best Weird Al Songs)

It might puzzle viewers of the opening moments of Weird: The Al Yankovic Story (now streaming on Roku) as to why "Weird Al" Yankovic is being rushed into a hospital for emergency treatment due to a drug overdose. According to real-life Al Yankovic, he's never taken drugs. What gives?

The teaser trailer released earlier this year might have given us the impression that Weird might be a standard musical biopic. The official trailer later, however, started to hint that things were not quite as they seemed. Did Weird Al have a romantic relationship with Madonna? Was he battling with drug abuse and alcoholism, as musical biopics demand? For the real Weird Al, the questions very much delighted him, as he revealed on Twitter. Yankovic has since clarified that he met Madonna for, "like, forty-five seconds" backstage at an awards event in 1985. For me, though, I don't think the joke really sunk in until the very end of the trailer, in which Daniel Radcliffe, who plays Yankovic, shoves his cigarette into a music executive's hand. While it would be much more entertaining to watch the film not knowing that it is meant to be a parody of musical biopics (it makes sense that it does, of course, since Yankovic has made a career of parodying other songs), by now everyone knows this is not a serious film, though it plays as one. Weird is a spoof of those hackneyed Oscar-bait musical biopics (looking at you, Elvis) that we're all tired of.

Inspired by the viral success of Eric Appel's fake trailer for a Weird Al biopic nine years ago at Funny of Die, this film starts with a musical score sounding like it's right out of movies of a simpler time (think Forrest Gump, Beethoven, and The American President). The movie shows us Al as a young boy living a simple suburban life. But as a teenager, he just wants to play the accordion (what a rebel), an instrument his father angrily dismisses as the "Devil's Squeeze Box." One of the film's funniest lines is when the police return young Al to his parents and tell them, "I'm afraid we found your son at an accordion party." Despite his parents (played by Julianne Nicholson and Toby Huss) attempting to steer him away from his dreams of writing songs ("in an extremely specific genre of music," he tells them) and more towards a respectable career path, like his father's job at a factory in which nobody has any idea what is made, Al remains determined to write new words to songs that have already been written. 

All the tropes are deliberately there in this biopic, including the one in which the musical protagonist suddenly wows the unexpecting crowd by pelting out a tune out of nowhere. It starts by Al hearing "My Shorona" on the radio while making sandwiches and suddenly coming up with "My Bologna," then later again at a pool party hosted by his father figure, Dr. Demento (Rainn Wilson) in a cameo-a-minute scene in which Al is challenged to make a lampoon of "Another One Bites the Dust." The result: "Another One Rides the Bus." At this point, it should be pointed out that there are "nuggets of truth," as Weird Al has called them in recent interviews, sprinkled throughout the film. "Another One Rides the Bus" is (obviously) an actual parody from 1981, which became an underground hit and was featured on his first album two years later. He also did, in fact, record "My Bologna" in a public restroom.  

From there, Weird Al faces a meteoric rise. But again, in this fictitious alternate universe, things are upside down. No finer example of this (other than dating Madonna, wonderfully played by Evan Rachel Wood as a villainess desperate for the "Yankovic Bump" that her records would receive if he would just parody one of her songs–oh, and all the parts with Pablo Escobar) is when Al releases "Eat It." Look, Weird Al Yankovic has released a lot of great songs that are actually originals and not parodies, and it's a pity that the public isn't as well-versed these songs, like the epic and absurd "Albuquerque" or the intense "Hardware Store" or the cathartic "Stop Forwarding That Crap to Me" (a song that speaks for us all). But everyone knows that "Eat It," with its obvious similarity to "Beat It," is not an original. Here, in this topsy-turvey world, it's the other way around. In Weird, "Eat It" comes first, and "Beat It" (the song by "that kid from the Jackson 5?") comes second, infuriating Al Yankovic, who at this point wants to be taken more seriously. 

For fans of Weird Al, especially the hardcore ones who likely know the originals mentioned above, Weird is a must. Those who have listened to his songs over the years as he turned songs like "Jeopardy" into "I Lost on Jeopardy" and "Lola" into "Yoda" will most likely enjoy it as well. Even those who have absolutely no idea who Weird Al Yankovic is will probably at least enjoy it a little. I did. However, there are problems with it, mainly with how late it is. The inevitable comparison of the film is to Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story, the 2007 comedy starring John C. Reilly lampooning films like Ray and Walk the Line. "The wrong kid died," the line from Dewey's dismissive and cruel father, was far funnier than any of the father-son dynamics we see here. And the zenith of Weird's absurdity, as it shifts into a parody of action films of the 1980s, is a low point. Ultimately, especially as it inches its way through its third act, it simply becomes more and more smirkable and chuckable than downright hysterical.

Radcliffe, though, delivers one of his best performances, as does Wood. They definitely have comedic chemistry. They both can sing in real life, as well, so it's unfortunate that we don't get to hear them belt out a few tunes here. And Weird Al's new song for the movie (titled "Now You Know") is one of his best. I just wish I enjoyed the rest of the movie as much as I did this new song.


The Best Weird Al Songs:

50. My Baby's In Love with Eddie Vendor
49. I Think I'm a Clone Now
48. I Love Rocky Road
47. Mission Statement
46. (This Song's Just) Six Words Long
45. The Brady Bunch
44. Happy Birthday
43. King of Suede 
42. Word Crimes
41. Midnight Star
40. That Boy Could Dance
39. The Biggest Ball of Twice in All of Minnesota
38. Alimony
37. Polkarama! 
36. Polka Your Eyes Out
35. Now You Know
34. Good Enough for Now
33. Dare to Be Stupid
32. Isle Thing
31. My Bologna 
30. Fun Zone
29. UHF
28. Christmas at Ground Zero
27. Nature Trail to Hell
26. Polka Power!
25. Smells Like Nirvana
24. Perform This Way
23. Money for Nothing/Beverly Hillbillies 
22. Dog Eats Dog
21. Slime Creatures From Outer Space
20. One More Minute
19. Handy
18. The Hot Rocks Polka
17. Talk Soup
16. Foil
15. Mr. Frump in the Iron Lung
14. Fat
13. Jurassic Park
12. Yoda
11. Eat It
10. White and Nerdy
9. Sports Song
8. Hardware Store
7. Attack of the Radioactive Hamsters from a Planet Near Mars
6. Albuquerque 
5. Stop Forwarding That Crap to Me
4. I Lost on Jeopardy
3. Like a Surgeon
2. Amish Paradise
1. The Saga Continues



Sunday, October 30, 2022

Prey

"The animals who play with the most abandon are the predators."

"But surely prey are almost never safe enough to play."

-Brenda Cooper, Edge of Dark 

All native peoples have legends and stories about the sky, according to Lee Grayson, and in some groups, "children moving into adulthood go into nature to look at the sky for life-changing visions." But what if what a youth saw in the sky wasn't simply a vision serving as an impetus for her hero's journey but also a sign that something unearthly and dangerous is about to come for her? Such a danger has been featured several times before: with Navy SEAL Arnold Schwarzenegger and crew in Central America, with L.A. detective Danny Glover, and two (or four, if you count the two Alien vs. Predator movies) other films, all featuring that omnipresent clicking noise of the Predator. 

Prey, directed by Dan Trachtenberg, is the latest Predator movie. The last one was the Shane Black-directed film The Predator (creative title), but with reshoots, mixed reviews, and a MeToo controversy, it might have been the last time we were to see the towering menace and its thirst for human trophies. However, the creature returns in a prequel surprisingly set in the Northern Great Plains in 1719, and for many, surprisingly or not, Prey has been the best. This time, one of the Predators is up against not Arnold and his SEALs or Detective Glover (or Adrien Brody or Boyd Holbrook and on and on) but a Comanche tribe, specifically a young woman named Naru, played by Amber Midthunder. 

Predictably, everyone around Naru wants her to be domestic, yet she yearns for more masculine roles, such as being a hunter like her brother, Taabe (Dakota Beavers), a leader in her tribe. Her brother can be supportive, but not fully supportive, ultimately deciding she is not ready to go out and hunt whatever it is that she claims she is seeing in the sky. Yet she and her dog Sarii (played by Coco) sneak along with her brother and the other men to rescue one of their members who had been attacked by a mountain lion. Along the way, however, Naru sees troubling signs of a creature far worse. There are warning signs all around her: a snake totally de-skinned, gigantic footprints, and that disturbance in the sky she mistakes for a sign that she is ready to begin her trial. 

Naru and her tribe are in danger due to both kinds of aliens: one from outside their world and one from across the ocean. The latter are French fur traders, and the usual beats are there: They kill the buffalo the Comanche rely on, Sarii's tail gets trapped in one of their foothold traps, and they capture one of the Comanche men and torture him. The film uses the horrid behavior of the fur trappers to potently remind audiences what happened on this continent. The film makes clear that the real predators were Europeans. 

I'd like to quote Jon T. Coleman's book Vicious: Wolves and Men in America to help understand Naru as a character in relation to the Predator. According to Coleman, "Vulnerability—not hunger, not anger, and certainly not spite—is the key to predator-prey relationships. The skill and viciousness of the hunter matters less than the size, speed, strength, health, and ferocity of the hunted...Predators eat the mild and weak because those are the animals they can catch and kill." This is not to suggest that Naru is always invulnerable throughout the story. At different times, she is in profound danger. She even makes mistakes. But she also possesses the driving force of her own ambition to prove herself that helps keep her alive. The scorn she receives from male members of her tribe and the skepticism and frustration from her mother (Michelle Thrush) only augment her drive. True, she might use vengeance against other humans occupying her space, but against her non-human hunter, she will also weaponize her size, speed, and strength. Along the way, it certainly helps that she knows medicine and can help the injured. In essence, she is one of the most badass characters we've seen on the screen in a while. 

There are exciting moments throughout the film involving a variety of other predator-and-prey creatures (featuring snakes, mountain lions, wolves, rabbits, deer, and even a bear), all set against the backdrop of gorgeous locations in Calgary. Our protagonist will find herself in at least some of these trials and tribulations, and she faces them with wide-eyed grit. While watching, though, you almost might forget that you're not simply viewing a period piece involving a Comanche young woman, but you're also watching the latest installment in a thirty-five-year franchise. The Predator, as most of us have seen, is a tall, incredibly robust creature with technology far more advanced than essentially everything humans have been able to throw at it. In Predator back in 1987, he was played by the seven-foot-tall Kevin Peter Hall, and with hours of Stan Winston-created makeup effects featuring terrifying mandibles, Hall as the Predator made for a formidable foe against Schwarzenegger, Carl Weathers, Bill Duke, Jesse Ventura, and others. Here, an ancestor of that first monster is played by actor and former basketball player Dane DiLiegro. The technology DiLiegro's Predator uses may be more primitive than that used in films that take place centuries later, but it is still more potent and deadly than anything his opponents have. 

Despite how exciting and thrilling this sci-fi/action/horror/thriller can be, it's a little surprising and even fascinating that 20th Century Studios, Disney, and the others involved with the production would agree to try something like this; that is, to take a franchise that got off to a great start way back in the Eighties (and then featured mediocre-at-best attempts to recreate the magic) but now make something totally familiar yet fresh. I imagine director Dan Trachtenberg, screenwriter Patrick Aison, and others might have faced a skeptical audience as they tried to persuade the powers that be that this would be a worthwhile project and worth the risk. Fortunately for them, the risk paid off: Prey is currently ranked among the ten best films of 2022 on Rotten Tomatoes, and it became Hulu's biggest premier ever.  

It's not too surprising that the franchise took a big swing by making the film a prequel and set it three hundred years ago. It's not surprising because Trachtenberg has a track record of taking such risks, like when he verged away from the found-footage monster horror of Cloverfield to make its sequel (10 Cloverfield Lane) a human-based thriller set entirely in a bunker. What is more surprising is that this well-known commodity features a mostly indigenous cast. Prey comes at a time of greater indigenous representation in the U.S., with Deb Haaland's appointment as the first Native American cabinet secretary in history and the FX teen comedy drama series Reservation Dogs gaining rave reviews being notable examples. Yet these examples exist in the backdrop of disappointing but unsurprising statistics: According to Reclaim Native Truth, Native American characters make up no more than 0.4 percent of characters in film and television.

Prey, whose production team took steps to make sure what was on screen was historically accurate (including the tooth brushing scene and horses, for example), even features a dubbed version in Comanche. I first watched Prey when it was released last summer. When I rewatched it, I did so with the version that was dubbed into Comanche, and I was happy that the dubbing is not as distracting as I thought it would be. It's least distracting in Midthunder's scenes. Speaking of Midthunder, she's the best part. Her acting is top notch, and whether it involves her going toe to toe with the Predator, standing up to the men in her tribe, or constantly running, she's great. It seems unlikely (though possible) that we will see her Naru again; if anything, the owners of this franchise will likely do what has always been done: try something new. But there are hints that a sequel could be possible hidden throughout the film (including a neat Easter egg). I don't think there should be a direct sequel involving these characters, but if there is, I look forward to seeing Naru and her trusty dog companion once again.   


Tuesday, October 11, 2022

Angela Lansbury

"When they talk about the Golden Age of Hollywood," Geoffrey Rush asked Dame Angela Lansbury in his toast to her at the 2013 Governors Award in which she "at long last" received an Oscar, "aren't they just talking about you?" That's not hyperbole. When one thinks of 20th cinema in the United States, one certainly thinks of iconic figures like Katharine Hepburn, Ingrid Bergman, Maggie Smith, Bette Davis, Paul Newman, Orson Welles, George Cukor, Spencer Tracy, Danny Kaye, Cecil B. DeMille, James Earl Jones, Elizabeth Taylor, and Judy Garland. The common denominator of them all is that they worked with Angela Lansbury, who died today at the age of 96, in her legendary career that started in 1944 when she was just 17 years old.

Playing the flirtatious and rather rude Nancy Oliver, a housemaid of the couple played by Bergman and Charles Boyer, she turned 18 on the set of that first film of hers (the Hollywood remake of Gaslight) and then became one of the few performers to get an Oscar nomination for a debut performance. In the film, Lansbury immediately presented to audiences her remarkable versatility and an ear that worked like a sponge, assisting her in her ability to do a variety of accents, a trait that served her well not only in Gaslight but in a whole host of films from The Long Hot Summer in 1958 to Nanny McPhee in 2005.

Her post-Gaslight features saw here in roles that were the complete opposite of Nancy: playing the kind, older sister of Elizabeth Taylor's character in 1945's National Velvet (which started a life-long friendship between the two) and singing for the first time on screen in 1946's The Picture of Dorian Grey, which earned her a second Oscar nomination. Alas, Dame Angela never did nab a competitive Oscar, even when she was thought to have been a shoe-in for her villainous portrayal as Mrs. Iselin in the 1962 political thriller The Manchurian Candidate. (She lost to Patty Duke for her performance in The Miracle Worker.) Awards success surprisingly evaded her through much of her career. Fans of Murder, She Wrote (the hit TV series where she played the sleuth Jessica Fletcher for 12 years) might be surprised to learn that she was nominated for an Emmy every year the show was on air, but she never once won.

However, the theater crowd always gave her the prizes she deserved. The final days of the old Hollywood contract system gave her steady work, like the musical Western The Harvey Girls (a movie which gave her the honor of being the only actor to get a fight scene with Judy Garland, to my knowledge), the Biblical epic Samson and Delilah, and the beloved Danny Kaye comedy The Court Jester, but she remained a bit player before shifting to television and theater. Despite a flop with her first Stephen Sodheim collaboration Anyone Can Whistle in 1964, she became a much bigger national star and gay icon with her performance in the title role of Mame in 1966, earning her first of five Tony Awards. She also won for Dear World, Gypsy, Sweeney Todd: The Demon of Barber Street, and Blithe Spirit.

Often, Lansbury was a part of a great ensemble (and she was often the best part), and sometimes, frankly, she was the only good thing about a production, like in the biographical film Till the Clouds Roll By or the Disney musical Bedknobs and Broomsticks, one of the few films in which she played the lead. Despite Bedknobs and Broomsticks being a weak attempt at recreating the magic of Mary Poppins (she's also brilliant as the Balloon Lady in the 2018 sequel Mary Poppins Returns, by the way), Bedknobs and Broomsticks comes across as flat and uninspired, but it's a joy to watch and listen to her sing songs like "Substitutiary Locomotion." 

Murder, She Wrote is another example of her being the best part of something. The plot, rhythm, and style of each of the 264 episodes were largely the same, for better or worse. Sometimes it was difficult to keep up with all the clues, sometimes the murderer's motive made no sense, and sometimes it seemed the writers were bending over backwards to surprise viewers with who the culprit really turned out to be. But in just about every episode, she was fantastic. The show's bookend episodes, for example, in which Jessica would host and narrate an episode that had nothing to do with her and her sleuthing (making her a minor part of the story), serve as reminders at just how much she really carried that show.

It was Murder, She Wrote that most likely served as many Millennials' introduction to Angela Lansbury, primarily for it being a show our grandmothers loved. Actually, in addition to that, I have a very vivid memory of watching her in the 1978 adaptation of Death on the Nile with my grandmother in which Lansbury gets shot in the head as she was about to reveal who the murderer was. (She once joked that she was "a great dier" on screen.) Between these two murder-mystery pieces of pop culture, I recognized even at the age of four or five that Lansbury was in fact the voice of Mrs. Potts in Beauty and the Beast, which might remain her most beloved performance on the big screen. With her beautiful singing of the film's Oscar-winning title song, she would become a permanent part of history.   

And a permanent part of us, as well, with all the memories we have of her playing such fantastic characters. She was a natural, among the very best of Golden Age of Hollywood. There will never be another actor quite like Angela Lansbury.

Wednesday, October 5, 2022

Happy 60th Birthday, Mr. Bond: All 25 (+3) James Bond Movies Ranked

Sixty years ago, on October 5, 1962, audiences were first introduced to the British secret service agent, James Bond, the screen adaption of author Ian Fleming's "blunt instrument," a man just as much a promiscuous playboy as he was a capitalist cold warrior crisscrossing the globe on a a whole host of adventures. For a variety of different reasons, the first Bond film was not an adaption of Fleming's first novel, Casino Royale, but Dr. No, an adaptation of the sixth novel. More on that later.

Premiering at the London Pavilion and then the rest of the United Kingdom a few days later, Dr. No, produced by Harry Saltzman and Cubby Broccoli, directed by Terrence Young, and starring Sean Connery, made its way to North America seven months later. That first Bond movie wasn't as critically successful as one might imagine, with Time calling James Bond a "hairy marshmallow" (whatever that means). The film also predictably found enemies at both the Vatican and the Kremlin. But it had just enough fans, including President John F. Kennedy, who had it shown at the White House. Dr. No was the fifth-highest grossing film of the year.

The world's most famous Scotsman, Connery, went on to play the character six more times (including an unofficial entry that's included in the ranking below). He was followed by actors from Australia, England, Wales, and Ireland. Everyone has their favorite (most usually say Connery), but for me, they were all terrific. The films they appeared in, not so much. Some were good, some were bad, and some were ugly. They have been ranked frequently over the past decade or so; below is mine:

28. Casino Royale (1967)
Believe it or not, but Casino Royale, the first James Bond novel, has actually been adapted for the screen three times, not one, with the second being when producer Charles K. Feldman got his hands on the film rights for the novel in 1962. Feldman failed to come to an agreement with Broccoli and Saltzman on adapting the story for the screen, and by that time, the Bond franchise had already taken off without the very first story, so Feldman felt he couldn't compete with the official Bond films starring Sean Connery as 007. The result is that this Casino Royale is a spoof of James Bond films and not a faithful adaptation; it is also one of the least funny, most non-sensical, and most arbitrary motion pictures in history, coming across like a mismanaged collection of four bizarre films squished into one (with no less than five directors). Beyond that, while it would be an understatement to call James Bond a creep, never before had the character (played here by 56-year-old David Niven) gotten into a tub with a 17-year-old who bathes him. Even without the creepiness (and racism) of the film, none of the story makes any sense. For a reason I cared little in investing any amount of brainpower to understand, this "Sir James Bond" Niven plays becomes the new M and has a host of other spies be remained James Bond, including one played by Peter Sellers and another played by Ursula Andress (who was also in Dr. No). While the legends surrounding the on-set rivalry between Orson Welles as Le Chriffe and the chaos-causing Sellers are intriguing, nothing else of the film is. 

Best part: Orson Welles?

27. Casino Royale (1954)
It may come as a surprise to Bond lovers, but Sean Connery technically wasn't the first James Bond (and the first James Bond wasn't even British). That honor goes to U.S. actor Barry Nelson, who (with a square face and aw-shucks personality) gave Bond (played here as a CIA agent and often called "Jimmy") more of a self-effacing rather than dapper persona. The first adaptation of the novel Casino Royale was on an episode of the CBS anthology series Climax!, which was able to adapt the novel after CBS paid Ian Fleming $1,000. Nelson (who later jokingly called himself "00-one-and-a-half") took the part so that he could play opposite Peter Lorre, who more or less phones it in as Le Chiffre but is still more interesting to watch than everyone else. Nelson also noted years later that "the Bond thing wasn't all that well known" at that point (only one year after the novel's release and eight years before the cinematic release of Dr. No). That's ultimately the problem with this hour-long adaptation, a live, sometimes clunky Bond lookalike before Bond was a thing. It's probably a must-watch for Bond fanatics and possibly pop culture buffs; for everyone else, it's a bore and should be skipped. 

Best part: Peter Lorre, even though he doesn't appear the least bit interested

26. Die Another Day (2002)
The Batman and Robin of the Bond franchise, Die Another Day is an outlandish, absurd, and pathetic entry to celebrate what was then Bond's fortieth anniversary. Why is it so bad? So many reasons. It starts, though, with some interesting stuff about the geopolitics of the West's missteps in places like North Korea and Cuba, though it all brings back uncomfortable memories of the Bush administration's hawkish neoconservative policies. But at around minute forty-five, things go haywire. That's when we get lots of goofy stuff about face transplants, invisible cars, lasers, glacier-surfing, and ice palaces. Much of the acting leaves a lot to be desired, as well. Toby Stephens as Gustav Graves is quite possibly the worst Bond villain ever, and he probably would have been better suited in a spoof of Bond films. Die Another Day is Rosamund Pike's first film, so she shouldn't be blamed for such a forgettable performance, but Halle Berry (as the NSA agent Jinx, who nearly got her own spinoff) literally won an Oscar during the filming, so it's disappointing that she's also so uninteresting in the film. This is the final of Pierce Brosnan's four Bond films. From there, he went on to distance himself as much as possible from the Bond image in an eclectic arrangement of films like Mamma Mia!, The Matador, and The Ghost Writer.  

Best part: I have no idea.

25. Never Say Never Again (1983)
Never Say Never Again was writer and producer Kevin McClory's long-awaited swing at a Bond movie once the courts sided with him. The whole legal drama is a long, complicated story, but the gist of it is that Ian Fleming went to work on creating the first Bond film with Jack Whittingham and McClory. Eventually, however, Fleming decided to put the story the three of them created onto page with Thunderball, his next novel, without informing McClory or Whittingham, who tried to stop the publication. After a lengthy court battle in which Fleming's health deteriorated, Fleming was ordered to credit Whittinngham and McClory, with McClory gaining hold of the film rights (including the rights to SPECTRE, which is why the organization stopped appearing in Bond films until McClory's heirs sold the rights to Eon Productions). McClory came to an agreement with the Bond producers in which he would be credited as the sole producer of Thunderball but would not be allowed to adapt the story for another ten years. Then, after another legal win, McClory was free to make his own Bond movie. Yet another win was scoring Sean Connery to return as Bond eleven years after he stated he never would play the character again (hence the title). Finally, Warner Bros. released the film in the summer of 1983, pitting it against Eon's Octopussy, starring Roger Moore. Octopussy would be the winner at the box office, but Never Say Never Again was more of a critical darling, then and now. Why? I have no idea. Thunderball is boring as hell, but not as boring as Never Say Never Again, which ultimately just feels as if someone sat McClory and Irvin Kershner (the director) down and explained to them what Bond films were, and then they tried to replicate it. Never Say Never Again is monotonous, the acting is awful (especially Edward Fox as an over-the-top M and Rowan Atkinson showing up for comic relief), and it really makes you appreciate the formula of the Eon films. 

Best part: Other than the somewhat engaging final showdown between Bond and Fatima Blush (Barbara Carrera), the only remotely interesting thing about this movie is the behind-the-scenes legal drama. Fun fact (I guess): Connery was trained by Steven Seagal, who broke Connery's wrist.  

24. Thunderball (1965)
There isn't all the much to write about Thunderball that wasn't just covered in its remake (see above). I felt almost an equal amount of boredom with both films. I will share one personal anecdote, though: Luciana Paluzzi as Fiona Vulpe being shot in the back during her dance with 007 is the first memory I have of James Bond. (Quite a morbid memory of the franchise.) Years later, I watched the whole thing. I didn't like Thunderball the first time; I didn't like it the second time, either. Despite its high praise (it is currently ranked the sixth best in the franchise on Rotten Tomatoes), this is probably the most overrated installment. As is the case with Never Say Never Again, the five-decade history of the legal battle behind it is far more interesting than anything in the final product. Aside from that drama, there's nothing special about Thunderball. The opening scene is absurd, the jet pack is laughable, the villain is forgettable, and there's nothing there that we hadn't seen in the previous three movies (except a bunch of underwater stuff).

Best part: the theme song sung by Tom Jones

23. Diamonds Are Forever (1971)
There's only so many ways one can write "this franchise is offensive," but it is a reoccurring theme when discussing these films. In particular, essentially every early Bond film (especially the Connery ones) was insulting in some ways; sometimes, the movie would be racist, sometimes it was sexist, sometimes it was offensive in other ways, and sometimes all of the above. Here, in Diamonds Are Forever (Connery's first time back as Bond since 1965 and the first Bond of the 70s), it's all of the above. Even if it weren't for that, it is increasingly dull and nonsensical as it moves along. The plot is something about a diamond smuggling operation that Bond has to investigate being run by Bond's arch nemesis, Ernst Stavro Blofeld (who's not in the source material), here played in a very camp performance by Charles Gray (who also appeared in a different role in You Only Live Twice). Diamonds Are Forever definitely was a big swing back in the direction of silliness after the much more somber On Her Majesty's Secret Service; at the time, Saltzman and Broccoli (who considered other actors—including Roger Moore—before acquiescing to the studio's request to bring back Connery for a then-record of $1.2 million) probably felt that it was necessary course correction after the cool reaction to the previous installment. A more recent consensus, however, has emerged and totally disagrees.

Best part: Putter Smith and Bruce Glover as the henchmen Mr. Kidd and Mr. Wint, respectively, and Lana Wood as Plenty O'Toole

22. Octopussy (1983)
There are some good parts of the goofily titled Octopussy (adapted from the series of short stories by Fleming called Octopussy and the Living Daylights): There's a fight on a train, the return of Maud Adams (in a new role as the titular character), and Bond traveling to India and cleverly outsmarting the villain, an exiled Afghan prince (awkwardly played by non-Asian French star Louis Jourdan) who is working to disrupt the detente between the West and the Soviet Union. Other than that, it's a weird movie. If Steve Birkoff chewing up the scenery as a Russia general intent on implementing Soviet superiority is your thing, you've got plenty of that here. There's a new M in the film, too: Robert Brown, who played Admiral Hargreaves in The Spy Who Loved Me; it's never stated if this is the same character. Brown took over the role after Bernard Lee, who played M in eleven films from 1962 to 1979, died in 1981. Brown provides just as good a job in the role as Lee did before him. Unfortunately, though, most of the film is a bore, with Bond doing the Tarzan call being a particular low-point in the franchise. The film's jaw-dropping stunts that feature Bond pitted against henchman Gobinda (Kabir Bedi) on top of an in-flight airplane are tempered with fight choreography that's comically bad. Ultimately, Octopussy is the worst Roger Moore Bond film.

Best part: the plane stunts

21. Tomorrow Never Dies (1997)
Tomorrow Never Dies is about as forgettable of a Bond film as possible. While it's a neat idea to have a Bond villain who makes many think of real-life villains like Rupert Murdoch, it's considerably less interesting to watch the usually brilliant Jonathan Pryce do a lot of mustache twirling while playing such a character, in this case a media mogul named Elliot Carver who wants to create military havoc between the UK and China in order to eventually get exclusive broadcasting rights in the latter for one hundred years. It's a rare, almost pathetically bad performance as he waltzes around detailing his plans to whomever will listen. The only saving grace for the film is Michelle Yeoh as Wai Lin, a Chinese Ministry of State Security agent who works with Bond to stop Carver. Yeoh and Pierce Brosnan make a pretty good team, but they're not enough to save the film from being anything more than a hackneyed action flick of the 1990s. 

Best part: Michelle Yeoh

20. License to Kill (1989)
License to Kill, the first original title for the series and the last Bond film for a variety of those who had worked in the films, such as director John Glen, actor Robert Brown, and producer Cubby Broccoli, took the series into terribly gritty territory. The movie, far from the science fiction adventure of Moonraker or the romance of The Living Daylights, sees such gruesome scenes of sharks chewing off legs, explosive decompression, and the act of a man being shredded alive. Thus, the movie makes for a humorless, dull, excessively violent two-hour slog. Timothy Dalton, in his second and final outing as James Bond, looked like he was as disinterested as the audience, or (as Richard Corliss at Time put it) "for every plausible reason, [Dalton] looks as bored in his second Bond film as Sean Connery did in his sixth." The film struggled in the United States, where it was up against other major summer blockbusters like Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade and Batman. Who could blame audiences for staying away? At its core, it's just a bad attempt at an 80s action flick. 

Best part: Benicio Del Toro as the henchman Dario

19. The Man With the Golden Gun (1974)
The good news is that The Man With the Golden Gun, Roger Moore's second outing as Bond, is not nearly as bad as I remembered it. However, it is still a flawed film. Like Moore's first Bond film (Live and Let Die), the plot is mediocre, the chase scenes are boring, and this film (the ninth in the series) doesn't add much to a franchise at a time when it must have been feeling stale. True, there are some neat things, like the martial arts fights and the shipwrecked RMS Queen Elizabeth serving as covert headquarters for MI6. There's also the best part of the film: Christopher Lee as Scaramanga (more on him later). Much of the specific criticism has been about Britt Ekland as Goodnight, Bond's assistant in the field (who, of course, is seduced by him). Goodnight is meant to be comic relief (Clifton James as a vacationing J.W. Pepper from the previous film for some reason also returns for comic relief that misfires), but the humor about Goodnight often materializes in the form of "women, amiright?" type of jokes, as Goodnight clumsily messes up practically everything. Other criticism has been made in the way Hervé Villechaize as Nick Nack only serves the film as one ableist joke after another. I would also add that this is one of the male gazeiest of all the Bond films, with several scenes of Bond creepily gazing upon naked or nearly naked women. Now, about the good things: it's mainly Christopher Lee as Scaramanga. Lee, a step-cousin of Bond author Ian Fleming, is incredibly suave and debonair here in one of his most celebrated roles. He's the first villain to challenge Bond's ego and arguably false sense of justice and morality. To Scaramanga, both he and Bond are assassins, and talented ones at that. "To us, Mr. Bond," he says. "We are the best." 

Best part: Christopher Lee

18. Live and Let Die (1973)
With Sean Connery out of the official Bond films for good, Roger Moore (who had been considered for the part two previous times), entered the franchise as the third official James Bond. It's a night-and-day difference between Connery's last official showing and Moore's first. In Diamonds Are Forever, Connery was out of shape and charismatic but apathetic. In Live and Let Die, Moore was a breath of fresh air, possessing noteworthy chemistry with his costar, Jane Seymour as Solitaire, and beginning the films' approach to treating the character and all his adventures in a lighter way. Moore would claim that none of these situations in the films are realistic, so why pretend that they aren't? For some, this was blasphemous, but for others, it really worked. Regarding Live and Let Die, the film can be a bit boring (particularly those chase scenes, which are usually boring in Bond films), and there are other problems, as expected, such as what Zina Hutton called "the stereotyping of Black people, the co-opting of and misappropriation of diasporic religions and cultures, and the ridiculous preoccupation with virginity and women's sexuality." Critics then and now have also complained that Yaphet Kotto as Dr. Kanaga, the Caribbean prime minister who plans on flushing Harlem with heroin for free to create a monopoly, is uninteresting. Kotto, however, while being a bit uneven from start to finish, is a joy to watch, in my opinion, as are his henchmen: Julius W. Harris as Tee Hee, Earl Jolly Brown as Whisper, and Geoffrey Holder as Baron Samedi. The role of Kanaga is a step away from a more hackneyed villain like Blofeld. Live and Let Die may be boring at times, but with its delightful new star, its utilization of blaxploitation, and its electrifying rock and roll opener, it all feels so new.  

Best part: the McCartney song, one of his best in a long list of exceptional songs over the past sixty years

17. Spectre (2015)
How can a Bond film start so spectacularly and end so spectacularly dull? Spectre pulls off such a feat. With an epic, wonderfully choreographed and executed opening during the Day of the Dead festival in Mexico City, Spectre starts like few other Bond films before or since. It ends, however, with a gigantic yawn, punctuated by a villain and backstory nobody wanted. Christoph Walz (five year's after winning an Oscar for playing a terrifying Nazi in Inglorious Basterds) was a natural choice for the next Bond villain, but he had big shoes to fill and didn't fill them. Dave Bautista is an effective henchman, but for an actor who so brilliantly uses his voice in the Guardians of the Galaxy films to be lacking any dialogue is a missed opportunity. Spectre also inches its way towards the problematic treatment of women that was largely lacking in Casino Royale. In the case of Quantum of Solace, Bond's creepy sexual manipulation of Fields is so inappropriate that Gemma Arterton now regrets taking the role, while in Skyfall, it was the film's (and Bond's) treatment of Sévérine (Bérénice Maralohe) and his cold reaction to her death that reminded us of his lack of humanity. In Spectre, the initial excitement of having a woman close to Bond's age (played by Monica Bellucci) was quickly dashed when we saw how spine-chillingly horrid his behavior towards her is. Beyond that, like most Bond films, Spectre, at almost two and a half hours, is way too long, and it really grows stale after Bond and Dr. Madeleine Swan (Léa Seydoux) escape from Austria. There's still more than an hour to go after that.

Best part: the Day of the Dead opening

16. No Time to Die (2021)
If Spectre left me feeling like the franchise was scraping the bottom of the barrel for ideas, No Time to Die simply confirmed it. To be clear, No Time to Die is a finer film than its immediate predecessor, and it's not necessarily a bad one. But at two hours and forty-five minutes, it really pushes the limits for an audience member's patience to watch essentially the same formula and the same beats and the same basic schtick that had been employed twenty-four previous times for the past sixty years. Fortunately, there are some slight innovations and some "big swings," if you will. For one, Lashana Lynch takes over the 007 title in a fine performance but one that Jourdain Searles wondered why existed at all, comparing her to being "lit like a ghost haunting the movie," which seemed especially unnecessary given Searles' (accurate) prediction that Lynch would not be the official new 007. Yet it's refreshing that with Lynch, Ana De Armas, and a returning Léa Seydoux performing more complex (or at least less objectified) women, Bond here is finally not the creep he was in literally every one before it. He's still an assassin, however, as villain Lyutsifer Safin (Rami Malek) frequently reminds him, and he's still in a movie that doesn't realize how badly it is overstaying its welcome, and the gratuitous violence only increased my desire to see this never-ending franchise end.

Best part: Billie Eilish and Finneas O'Connell's Oscar-winning song

15. For Your Eyes Only (1981)
Trying for a more serious and realistic plot after after some far-fetched adventures in previous Moore-as-Bond films is For Your Eyes Only, the first of five Bond films directed by John Glen, who also edited On Her Majesty's Secret Service, The Spy Who Loved Me, and Moonraker. Unfortunately, like most Bond films, the plot is overly convoluted and the film drags from time to time, with numerous different action sequences—some involving sharks, some involving ski chases, and some involving rock climbing—appearing better on paper than on film. Julian Glover (who was previously considered for taking over the role of James Bond) plays the bad guy here, a Greek smuggler working for the KGB, but he was ultimately a more interesting villain in Star Wars, Indiana Jones, and Harry Potter films than he was here. By this point, however, Moore was fitting seamlessly in the role, and every bit of dialogue he delivers is how it should sound. He wasn't as agile as Daniel Craig, but by this point he very much was James Bond, charming, intelligent, handsome, but very much a cold-blooded killer. Another highlight is the humorous ending scene involving Margaret Thatcher (played by comedian Janet Brown, who often impersonated Thatcher).

Best part: the pre-title sequence, the one in which a man in a wheelchair bearing striking resemblance to Blofeld (who couldn't be called that because the producers had lost the rights to the character in court) and is deposed of by Bond in a helicopter, signifying what must have been producer Cubby Broccoli extending a middle finger to Kevin McClory, as if to say Bond films could easily survive without Blofeld 

14. The World Is Not Enough (1999)
The best part of The World Is Not Enough (the Bond family motto, according to On Her Majesty's Secret Service) is Sophie Marceau as the manipulative, cunning oil heiress Elektra King. In her performance, she hits all the right notes. To date, King is the (spoiler alert) only lead female Bond villain in its history, and it's a pity because the relationship between her and Bond is so intriguing. After King exits the picture, it's hard to stay motivated to finish the film, mainly because Robert Carlyle as Renard, the other main villain (a man who feels no pain because of a bullet lodged in his brain), isn't particularly interesting. Other than Marceau, The World Is Not Enough is about as mediocre of a Bond film as there can be. It's not bad like Die Another Day or Tomorrow Never Dies, but it's not as good as GoldenEye

Best part: Other than Marceau's performance, the best part of the film is Desmond Llewelyn's final moment as Q, the part he played seventeen times.

Q: "Now pay attention, 007. I've always tried to teach you two things: First, never let them see you bleed."

Bond: "And the second?"

Q: "Always have an escape plan."

13. The Spy Who Loved Me (1977)
Using the title of a Fleming story but not the story under his orders (Fleming was reportedly stung by the negative reviews of his book, one in which Bond does not show up until two-thirds of the way through), The Spy Who Loved Me, while better than the previous two, goes on for a bit too long and has an increasingly bland climax. Other parts of the film, however, work. For example, Curd Jürgens as Karl Stromberg does his best to infuse at least something interesting into a somewhat stale Bond villain, this one a rich man who aims to create a new world by destroying the old one with nuclear weapons. The villain, a repeat in many ways of villains of Bond past, works because Jürgens works. Otherwise, Stromberg is forgettable, like much of the film. However, the film is still watchable, and watchable doesn't necessarily mean bad. One segment of The Spy Who Loved Me that has remained one of the most notable moments is Bond's famous ski jump performed by Rick Sylvester. All is quiet as he spectacularly descends for twenty-one seconds off Mount Asgard, and then the Union Jack parachute bursts open as the scene is punctuated by Marvin Hamlisch's brassy arrangement of the famous theme. Note the danger of such a stunt, too. One of his skis nearly sliced the parachute, which would have severely jeopardized Sylvester. 

Best part: the title song (one of the best songs in cinematic history)

12. You Only Live Twice (1967)
Of all the Bond films that served as inspiration for the first Austin Powers movie in 1997, You Only Live Twice is probably the largest source. With flesh-eating pirañas, peculiar character names like Kissy Suzuki (Hama Mie), and Donald Pleasence as Blofeld (the first time we see his face, sporting a pronounced scar and a bald head), this film continued Bond's adventures away from the the slightly more realistic and low-key drama of From Russia With Love and into farcical territory. Critics at the time, too, seemed to have started to grow tired of the Bond stuff, with Roger Ebert complaining that "the formula fails to work its magic." Beyond that, it's just as patriarchal and naturally sexist as the previous films (with a screenplay from Roald Dahl, of all people, who included lines like, "Why do Chinese girls taste so different from the others?" and moments of Bond getting a soapy bath by a few Japanese women after he's told that "in Japan, men come first, women come second"—another thing Austin Powers had fun with). Still, You Only Live Twice is an improvement over Thunderball, and all the Japanese scenery is lovely. Fun fact: At one point, Bond fights a henchman played by Peter Maivia, the maternal grandfather of Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson.  

Best part: the car chase involving a metallic helicopter followed by a rooftop fight

11. The Living Daylights (1987)
The story of how Timothy Dalton came to be James Bond is almost legendary. Dalton had once been considered to replace Connery as Bond, but he decided he was too young. After Moore was ready to leave, many actors were considered to replace him, including Sam Neill, but Cubby Broccoli chose Pierce Brosnan, whose show Remington Steele was about to end. When the announcement of Brosnan as Bond had brought a sudden new interest in the show, NBC decided to renew it, thereby ending Brosnan's chances (temporarily) and finally allowing Dalton to take over. Dalton's Bond is a fascinating one, and he told interviewers at the time that he went to the source material to find a Bond audiences hadn't seen before. Whereas Moore was more than willing to smirk and almost wink at the camera, Dalton looked like a stone-cold killer. Given how much audiences have appreciated Daniel Craig's ruthlessness as the character these past years, it's fair to say that Dalton was ahead of his time. Additionally, Dalton here occasionally has the jokes of the Moore Bond as well as the sensitivity of the Lazenby Bond. He has genuine chemistry with Maryam d'Abo as Kara; for once, it seems Bond actually has a crush on someone and wants to be with them longer than one night. And other than a possible fling that's hinted at in the beginning, Kara is the only woman Bond spends time with. Rita Kempley even guessed in the Washington Post that Bond "probably also practices safe sex." This isn't to say he's not a "sexist misogynist dinosaur" like he was called in a later film; he very much is, especially (in one of the series' most despicable moments) when he forcibly removes a woman's top in order to distract a guard. The villains also are a series low-point: Jeroen Krabbé as a renege Soviet general is a weird, bumbling attempt at comic relief, and Joe Don Baker (who was much more interesting later in the series as a cagey CIA agent) is odd as a war-mongering arms dealer. Finally, the film's romanticizing of the mujahideen hasn't aged so well decades later.   

Best part: Dalton's debut performance and the stunt work as Bond and Necros (Andreas Wisniewski) fight in and outside of a plane flying high above Afghanistan 

10. A View to a Kill (1985)
One of the laziest examples of groupthink in the decades-long discussion of Bond films and their rankings is to dismiss A View to a Kill, Roger Moore's final outing as James Bond, as one of his worst when it fact it's one of his best. On Rotten Tomatoes, it is listed as the second-worst Bond film, surpassed by only the 1967 Casino Royale. (They're not alone in their criticism. Due to the violence of the film, particularly as the villain massacres a group of men, Moore himself found it to be his least favorite Bond film.) Moore, who was fifty-seven during the time of filming, may have started to phone it in a little, but he very much still was Bond at that point, from my point of view. He's accompanied by one of the best songs (the title song by Duran Duran and longtime composer John Barry, which is still the only Bond song to have reached number one in the Billboard Hot 100), one of the best villains (the one and only Christopher Walken as Max Zorin, the corporate head/Nazi experiment/ex-Soviet agent/psychopath who plans on destroying Silicon Valley), and one of the best henchmen (Grace Jones as May Day, Zorin's lover and a deadly assassin). Walken as Zoran, in particular, is a delight. 1985 was a time sandwiched between his work in more serious art films like Annie Hall and The Deer Hunter and when he started to become better known for his typical schtick—namely due to his unique voice—after movies like Pulp Fiction. I'd argue that A View to a Kill is one of his most enjoyable performances. As for the film holistically, I still don't understand why most people don't like it. As good as The Spy Who Loved Me and For Your Eyes Only are, they drag in a way that A View to a Kill does not. Fun fact: Alison Doody as one of Zorin's henchman and Dolph Lundgren (who was dating Jones at the time) as a KGB agent both make their film debut in this movie.

Best part: Christopher Walken, Grace Jones, and Duran Duran, staples of the 80s

9. Moonraker (1979)
The most controversial choice on this list might putting Moonraker, the spy-fi Bond movie (the one where he goes to space) that is considered one of Roger Moore's worst, as Moore's best. Have at me, haters! Look, Moonraker does have its flaws, with the whimsical nature of Moore's Bond era starts venturing into parody, the gadgets saving him at every turn, and the python scene being totally absurd. But it's also the rare Bond film that really tries something different, and I think it mostly works. Loosely adapting Fleming's novel about Bond trying to stop industrialist Hugo Drax (played in the film by Michael Lionsdale) from destroying London with a nuclear bomb, the film takes the setting not simply from only being in London but also to Italy, Brazil, and (of course) to space as the producers tried to capitalize on audience's post-Star Wars science fiction crave. For those who detest the fact that Bond chases Drax and his henchman, the returning Richard Kiel as Jaws, into space to the Moonraker station, there are still almost two hours of all the stuff they loved in Bond films, including thrilling stunts, like the exceptional skydiving scene that opens the film. And while being a tad boring at times, Moonraker ultimately progresses at a brisker pace than either The Spy Who Loved Me or You Only Live Twice.

Best part: Derek Meddings' Oscar-nominated visual effects, John Barry's score, Ken Adams' sets, and Michael Lionsdale as Hugo Drax

8. Quantum of Solace (2008)
Quantum of Solace, the last Bond film to use an Ian Fleming title (though it has nothing to do with Fleming's story), is usually regarded as one of the least-liked of all the Craig Bond films, probably because it's wedged in between his two best (Casino Royale and Skyfall). This is at least partly unfair. Among the strengths of the film are a decent song sung by Jack White and Alicia Keys and an interesting geopolitical plot involving a philanthropist named Dominic Greene (played by Mathieu Amalric) as the CIA (which often comes across in a positive light in Bond flicks) contently watches him destroy Bolivia as long as they get their due. Supporting actors like Olga Kurylennko also do well. And the film's relatively short length at 106 minutes in a franchise of overlong movies is refreshing. But what harms the film is its typical adrenaline; the opera scene in which Bond spies on members of Quantum is far more interesting to watch than any of the action scenes. I first wrote about Quantum of Solace as a university student for my school's newspaper. My opinion of it largely has not changed since seeing it nearly thirteen years ago, yet in the long run, it's one of the more underrated entries. 

Best part: the opera scene

7. Dr. No (1962)
Dr. No is the very first official Bond film, and it obviously set the stage for the next twenty-four films. While lacking some of the more familiar ingredients of the franchise (the movie opening to the Bond theme and then "Three Blind Mice" instead of a big ballad being the most obvious), the film does include elements fans would become used to: exotic locations (in this case, Jamaica), gorgeous women (played here by Ursula Andress, Zena Marshall, and Eunice Gayson), the famous Bond theme—written by Monty Norman or John Barry (we'll never know)—and a menacing villain (Joseph Wiseman as the titular character). Of course, the film also introduced us to the more ignoble traits of the franchise, like the morbid quips about a violent death ("I think they were on their way to a funeral"), racism (several Chinese characters are played by white people), and Bond's excessive drinking. Finally, for those who have always known the Bond films to be high on adrenaline and action, the unhurried tempo of Dr. No might come as a disappointment to some, but to others, it may be a breath of fresh air.  

Best part: the introduction to James Bond—the very first time he says the iconic line—as he's smoking a cigarette and dominating in a game of baccarat

6. From Russia With Love (1963)
Let's go ahead and get the bad parts out of the way first. It's hard to tell which of the first two Bond films is the one that hasn't aged so well; just as Dr. No has its issues with the depiction of women and non-white people, so, too, does From Russia With Love, with probably the most notable example being a bizarre, cringeworthy fight between two Romani women, a scene in which modern-day critics have called out for its "hypersexualization/objectification of Romani women," while others have called it a "culturally insensitive sojourn typical in early Bond films." This is not the only objectionable scene in the film, but it's the most frustrating. If you can forgive the film for that and its other sins (like its intricate plot and Bond slapping a woman), you will likely note some of the reasons why it remains one of the most acclaimed of the 25 films. Like Dr. No, its calmer pace may frustrate some, but to others it's a welcome pause from the non-stop action of later Bond movie, and it gives the film a slightly more authentic, mature vibe, particularly as Bond's stalker Donald "Red" Grant finally catches him on the train. (Robert Shaw's performance as Grant is one of his many iconic performances.) The film's screenplay by Richard Maibaum also wisely erases the homophobia and biphobia of the novel while also depoliticizing the story a bit (remember that the film was released only a year after the Cuban Missile Crisis) by having the fictional SPECTRE and not the real-life SMERSH be the main villainous organization while keeping the book's clever (if confusing) story.

Best part: Bond and Grant's confrontation in the train   

5. On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969)
On Her Majesty's Secret Service immediately reassures us that this Bond universe we've become familiar with will continue. Bernard Lee, Lois Maxwell, and Desmond Llewelyn all appear in the first moments respectively as M, Moneypenny, and Q (who appears in two scenes, though none of them involve him dishing out gadgets to Bond, as the filmmakers wanted to try a different, more realistic approach that more closely follows Fleming's novel). But from there, we get a much different Bond film. For one, Sean Connery is nowhere to be seen. Instead, he's replaced with the Australian actor George Lazenby, who was a newcomer to acting. In the film, Lazenby is joined by the legendary Diana Rigg, whose performance as Tracy di Vicenzo makes her arguably the finest Bond girl. Telly Savalas replaces Donald Pleasance as Blofeld, who apparently has forgotten that he met Bond in the previous film, as he doesn't recognize him. (The filmmakers scratched a planned scene involving Bond getting plastic surgery and just decided to ignore the continuity error.) Contemporary reviews of the film were harsh, especially towards Lazenby. Modern-day reviews, however, have been much more favorable. Directors Steven Sodenbergh and Christopher Nolan have both called it their favorite Bond film, with the latter using it as an influence for Inception. I'm totally dumbfounded as to why contemporary critics of the film were so disparaging toward Lazenby. I think it's a terrific performance. In many ways, he's better than Connery (cheekily referred to as "the other fellow" in the opening scene). Lazenby's Bond—when he's scared, when he doesn't know what to do, when he falls in love and then becomes heartbroken—is a far more interesting portrait. Anyway, the story goes that Lazenby's agent convinced him that James Bond would not be able to survive the cinema of the 70s, and so he walked away from the offer to appear in many more Bond films. Lazenby has frequently mentioned that this was a mistake. It's one of the great disappointments of the franchise that he didn't appear in more.

Best part: John Barry's beautiful score incorporating the theme song (sung by Louis Armstrong)

4. Skyfall (2012)
Skyfall was Eon's attempt to start to bring Bond back to the known knowns of the franchise as the Craig era marched its way closer to the "Bond formula." Despite this, the film was still able to find a way (similar to Casino Royale) of making the whole ride seem much more fresh than it had been a decade before. As of this writing, it was the final time the studio was able to pull off such a trick. This success is perhaps namely due to the direction of Oscar-winner Sam Mendes, who brought along frequent collaborators like composer Thomas Newman and cinematographer Rickard Deakins. Together, the work they created here (such as the opening chase in Istanbul, the fight on the Shanghai skyscraper, the battle at the Macau casino, or the pursuit in the London underground) feel original and exhilarating. What further helps Skyfall is the swan song performance of Judi Dench as M, a Moneypenny (Naomi Harris) with action, the new Q (Ben Winshaw), Adele's Oscar-winning title song, Ralph Fiennes' first appearance in the franchise, and Javier Bardem's chilling performance as Silva, a frightening psychopath with some serious mommy issues. Furthermore, the winks and nods to Goldfinger, GoldenEye, and others on the series' fiftieth birthday are clever. 

Best part: Bond chasing Silva in the London Underground

3. Goldfinger (1964)
Goldfinger is considered by many to be the Citizen Kane of the Bond movies. This is the film that established the essential formula that more or less has been used since: start with an opening where Bond needs to destroy something (usually something not related to the main plot), and immediately follow up with a big, loud ballad ("Goldfinger," by John Barry, Anthony Newley, and Leslie Bricusse and sung by Shirley Bassey); get an assignment from M and toys from Q; meet beautiful women (in this, they're played by Honor Blackman, Shirley Eaton, Tania Mallet, Nadja Regin, and Margaret Nolan); order a vodka martini—shaken, not stirred; defeat the villain and his henchman while quipping about it ("He blew a fuse"); and save the world. But all of that stuff is less interesting than the finest parts of the film, which are its quieter moments: the golf game, for example, or the drive through the Urseren Valley in Switzerland, and, of course, Bond nearly being sliced in half by a laser. It's one of the few times we really see Bond sweat and not know what to do; indeed, he's panicking. "Do you expect me to talk?" he shouts out to Goldfinger. "No, Mr. Bond," comes the mocking reply. "I expect you to die." That line is perfectly delivered by Gert Fröbe, who gives the franchise its very best villain. Ten years ago, I ranked Goldfinger as the best of the Bond movies. Goldfinger currently sits at number one on Rotten Tomatoes' list of the movies, and Roger Ebert also called it his favorite. What has changed for me? Likely my awareness of the problems of the movie, namely its racism (while less racist than the novel and the previous two films) and the single worst moment in all the films: Bond's unquestionable rape of Pussy Galore. 

Best part: "No, Mr. Bond. I expect you to die."

2. GoldenEye (1995)
GoldenEye was the first Bond film I ever watched from start to finish. I was nine years old (a bit young for a Bond movie), and between that and the constant hours playing the Nintendo 64 game adaptation released two years after the film, I was fascinated from the start. GoldenEye, the first Bond film after the end of the Cold War and the first to be produced by Barbara Broccoli and Michael G. Wilson (the children of Cubby Broccoli), was a breath of fresh air after a long six-year absence of the character. It was meant to be a project for Timothy Dalton, but it fell into development hell as MGM and United Artists got into legal trouble. With the long delays, Dalton parted ways, thereby allowing Pierce Brosnan a second chance at the role. In addition to a perfect debut as the character, Brosnan is supported by a pretty good cast that includes Sean Bean as the villain, a former 00 agent; Famke Janssen as Xenia Onatopp, the sadistic Georgian henchwoman (with a very non-Georgian accent) who asphyxiates men to death with her legs; Izabella Scorupco as a programer who survives the GoldenEye blast (and who provides some of the finest acting of all the Bond girls); Joe Don Baker as a crusty CIA agent in Moscow; Robbie Coltrane as a gangster/ex-KGB agent; Gottfried John as a traitorous Russian general; Alan Cumming as Boris, the "invincible" programer; the returning Desmond Llewelyn as Q; Samantha Bond as Moneypenny; and Judi Dench's debut as M. The film also has a killer song written by Bono and the Edge and performed by Tina Turner. GoldenEye has its flaws, mainly the senseless, sometimes comical violence and the absurd opening, but the film holds up remarkably well almost thirty years later.  

Best part: the tank ride 

1. Casino Royale (2006)
After Eon Productions was finally able to get its hands on the rights to Casino Royale in 1999 after Sony exchanged them for MGM's rights to Spider-Man, Fleming's first novel was finally ready after so many decades. With Pierce Brosnan leaving the role after his contract for four Bond films finished, two hundred actors were considered to replace him, with one of them being Henry Caville, who was seriously considered for the role, but his young age prevented him from landing the part. Despite a bizarre and non-sensical backlash to the casting of Daniel Craig (with fans throwing a fit over a blond Bond—even though Roger Moore had blond hair), Craig proved that he was a far more toned, athletic, and brutal Bond than what we were used to. Martin Campbell, just as he had helped resurrect Bond a decade earlier with GoldenEye, was back at the helm, and his direction offered a nice bolt of energy in the arm, even if some of the action pieces (namely the chases in Madagascar, Miami-Daede Airport, and Venice) drag the film on for twenty minutes too long. (As good as Campbell's direction is, it certainly would have been something to have seen Quentin Tarantino's version.) Beyond Craig's BAFTA-winning performance, Judi Dench's return as M, and the undeniable chemistry Craig and Eva Green as Vesper Lynd had, the other main attraction of the film is Madds Mikkelsen's perfect performance as Le Chriffe, perhaps Bond's greatest foe. 

Best part: the poker game

Sunday, August 28, 2022

After Yang

For centuries, I'm sure many have looked at their pets or their babies and let out a sigh of stress, wondering what was going on in their brains. In the case of After Yang, I felt myself asking the same thing, but in this case it was an android. What really is going on inside his brain, what is he really thinking about? The titular character Yang (Justin H. Min) is a robotic teenager whom a couple named Jake and Kyra (played by Colin Farrell and Jodie Turner-Smith, respectively) bought secondhand from a certified reseller called Second Siblings. Second Siblings is a company that specializes in selling robotic children that can serve as Chinese siblings to adoptees who were born in China. This is great for their daughter Mika (Malea Emma Tjandrawidjaja), who has grown up with an older brother who never bullies her and instead only plays with her and offers her "Chinese fun facts" to help her appreciate her Chinese heritage. She calls him gÄ“ge (older brother), and he calls her mèimei (younger sister). All is well until Yang suddenly malfunctions and doesn't operate anymore. Mika is devastated, and Jake struggles to get him fixed. 

Almost immediately, a variety of ethical puzzles might be bouncing around your head as you watch the film. For example, could someone really know what Yang or any other android is thinking? For one, he has an awful hairstyle that I hope never catches on in the real future. Does he like it? The film hints that he has feelings and even ambitions. In one scene, he even says "I wish." So, is he programed to desire things? Additionally, I thought about things like the ethics of "owning" a synthetic android and the over-reliance of some parents on technology to keep their children occupied. I also thought about what the enormous costs of having such a robot, but this issue isn't really addressed. Jake is a small business owner selling tea (his life passion), and Kyra works in some kind of corporate job, so they're probably at least upper middle class. The year in which the film takes place is never mentioned, but maybe inflation really takes off in the future. 

One other topic that inevitably weighed on my mind as I watched it, particularly the beginning as we really see Mika miss her brother, is the issue of adopting a child from a different culture, ethnicity, or race. Over a quarter of a million Chinese children have been adopted out of China since the 1990s, many of them into families in the U.S. I was surprised the film suddenly drops this element of the story in favor of particularly less interesting topics, like Jake stressing over how to fix Yang and searching through all his memories. After Yang is a neat film, but there are better sources to understand the experiences of Chinese adoptees. All of them are documentaries, like Wo Ai Ni, Mommy, the 2010 documentary about a family in New York who adopted a girl from Hong Kong, the BBC short called Meet Me on the Bridge, about a young woman's journey back to China to meet her birth parents, and One Child Nation, about the effects of the one-child policy on China.

Beyond that, sci-fi fans will likely be thinking of previous stories they've seen on the screen, like the 2001 film A.I.: Artificial Intelligence or the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode "Measure of a Man," both of which explore the rights and emotional well-being of androids. In other ways, After Yang might remind some of the Black Mirror episode titled "Be Right Back" from 2013, the one in which a woman played by Hayley Atwell dates a synthetic recreation of her deceased boyfriend played by Domhnall Gleeson. All of these are probably a bit more memorable than After Yang

The best part of the film is its acting, the most compelling of which is Min as Yang. One of his principal tasks is to present for the audience a performance of an android unlike any they've seen before, especially because there are no other stories in which the android is an adopted son meant to keep his adopted sister close to her culture in a way her adoptive parents will be unable to. 

After Yang is a multilayered story, but one gets the impression that if writer/director Kogonada had focused on one of its layers, the film would have been more effective. It's a family drama, a work of science fiction predicting the future, an exercise in ethics, a story of adoption, a debate about data storage. It's all of theses things. But it shifts in an unpolished manner from one to the other in a way that is distracting. The family drama, for example, isn't allowed to be interesting, and it doesn't care if its audience cares or not. It tries to be all of these things at once, and it doesn't balance them well. See After Yang for its acting, and try to ignore the fact that you may have already seen similar stories that are more noteworthy. 

Friday, July 22, 2022

Who We Are: A Chronicle of Racism in America

Whenever there is a horrifying moment in the United States of America related to race, there sometimes is a knee-jerk reaction to it. "That's not who we are," is more or less the usual refrain. For conservatives, this "isn't who we are" because, regardless of what people of color have told everyone about their experiences, racism is simply a case of a few bad apples. Liberals, however, though they mean well, are often ignorant of history. One would hear a lot of white liberals shout "this isn't who we are!" when the Trump administration would put children in cages, apparently oblivious of the fact that so much of the history of the United States features such ugly episodes. 

Who We Are: A Chronicle of Racism in America is a documentary that aims to tear apart both fallacies. It's a film that is similar to An Inconvenient Truth, the documentary featuring Al Gore's presentation attempting to alarm audiences of the reality of global warming. In a similar style, Who We Are splits between a presentation with a fancy PowerPoint by Jeffrey Robinson, a former deputy director the ACLU and the founder of the Who We Are Project, and personal anecdotes about Robinson's own experiences with racism mixed with interviews with the mothers of Black men killed by the police. Many of these moments, whether they be the interviews with these mothers or Robinson talking with a white coach at his Catholic school who tried to protect him from racism, are powerful, as is much of Robinson's more objective presentation, which details what he calls tipping points, moments when the United States (as he puts it) moved one step forward and three back in terms of racial justice and fairness. For example, Reconstruction and the civil rights laws of the nineteenth century were replaced by Jim Crow, and the gains from the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s were diminished by harmful policies that followed, such as the War on Drugs. 

As one can imagine, the documentary very much is a history lesson. On tours, Robinson shows viewers the silent yet horrifying reminders of racism in the country, from the fingerprints of enslaved people in bricks, to trees still standing where Black people were lynched and hanged from, to the steps of what used to be Black Wall Street in Tulsa before the infamous slaughter in 1921. Other usual beats are there, such as the Electoral College's racist origins, the racist lyrics of the "Star-Spangled Banner," The Birth of a Nation, Nathan Bedford Forrest, Fernando Wood, and the fight to remove statues paying tribute to Confederate traitors and slavers. During his presentation, he includes a passage from the South Carolina Slave Code of 1740, which outlined that "the slave may be kept in due subjugation and obedience." His point is that the laws of the United States have often been a fundamental component of anti-Black racism in the United States. "The law picked a side," he tells his audience. 

If there is a problem with the film, it is that it is too similar in style to An Inconvenient Truth (so much so that it could have alternatively been titled "An Inconvenient Truth About Racism"). Beyond that, the documentary (like many others similar to it) preaches to the choir. In one scene, Robinson discusses the causes of the Civil War when he sees a pro-Confederate flag rally. Chatting with an older white man, Robinson does circles around him and his lack of logic, to the point where the other man seems to concede that if Robinson were to enslave the white guy, he would be okay with that (as long as he were to be treated "like family"). The white guy is wearing sunglasses, but his facial expression is basically emotionless; it's clear he just wants this to end. Despite likely being exposed to different (and obviously stronger) arguments, the man does not recant his original position. The war was fought because of economic reasons, he maintains, and it was not due to slavery (which was, again according to him, okay in many instances because the enslaved people were often treated as family). Robinson gets back into the vehicle and is completely exhausted. "Facts were not that important to this gentleman," he says. 

But that's a frustrating thing about Who We Are. Few of the many white people who disapprove of Black Lives Matter or the only twenty-five percent of white people who think that people of color are treated more harshly by the police are likely to see this documentary, and those who do are unlikely, I believe, to have their opinions be changed. The movie works for its audience (those who already walk into the film agreeing with Robinson) because these are the arguments that have always worked for this group. For the other group, their arguments are simpler: the United States is not racist—end of discussion. They can hardly be blamed for thinking that; it is, after all, how many of them have been taught to view racism in this nation. Green Book won Best Picture only three years ago because many people (even those infamously pesky liberals in Hollywood) still think that racism only existed in the South, it ended in 1968, and the solution to it is to simply put white people with people of color, and the problems will magically disappear.  

This is probably most notable when Robinson plays excerpts from Donald Trump's infamous remarks confusing Andrew Jackson and the Civil War. Robinson pauses, then points out how a few things there are a little problematic. The audience laughs. He then goes on to explain the reasons why this is problematic—how Jackson had died long before the war had started, how Jackson had enslaved people—but it doesn't matter. The choir likely already was aware of the weird and ignorant way Trump would praise Jackson; those who (literally) still adore Jackson and think he was a populist "man of the people" probably will think that they, too, are being laughed at, and will likely turn it off by that point.

Who We Are is a good documentary. It's an important documentary. It's a documentary many (especially younger people) really ought to see. But the target audience should actually be people who would be more vulnerable to falling for these notions that racism "isn't really who we are," that it's not a part of this country's DNA. They are the ones who need to hear these arguments and understand the reality of the situation. The film will, however, likely fall flat for them.