The 007 Files: Part 6

1979-1981: Where No Bond Has Gone Before

Throughout history, each cultural era has been a response to the one that came before it. In the modern age, this happens at a much quicker rate than ever, as each new generation of children decides to support forms of culture that their parents, more often than not, disapprove of. Let us not forget that rock and roll was once the devil’s music. Then disco came along. Then disco, in the words of many Chicago White Sox fans, “sucked,” at which point we entered the age of hair bands. This was followed by grunge, then rap, and finally electronic pop music. Admittedly, today’s musical landscape is much more varied, but I’ve already strayed too far from the point to start going down that road.

If one is to compare the evolution of popular music with the history of the James Bond films, then Moonraker is likely the series’ “disco” entry. It’s a film so devoted to being in touch with the cultural zeitgeist that in the process it forgets that it’s supposed to be a spy thriller. It’s not so much concerned with being good as it is with being popular. The film that preceded it, the pretty great The Spy Who Loved Me, was released the same year as a certain sci-fi film by a young George Lucas. As a result, the filmmakers became convinced that James Bond must be sent into space at all costs.

Moonraker is an absolute mess of a movie that remains compulsively watchable. Scene after scene introduces a clever idea, but by the end the film finds a way to render the exciting laughable. This is perfectly encapsulated in the pre-credits sequence, which has many interesting elements. It features one of the most impressive skydiving sequences ever captured on film, as Bond is pushed out of a plane without a parachute and must steal one before he hits the ground. This is tremendously exciting stuff, brilliantly executed. Then Jaws comes out of nowhere and attempts to kill Bond, at which point Bond opens his parachute and leaves Jaws to crash into… a circus tent, thus surviving. It’s a thrilling sequence that ends with a thud.

This is not an isolated incident. I’m genuinely engaged with Moonraker more often than not, but it insists on throwng in a dumb joke at the end of every scene that completely ruins the whole effect. Take this clip, which features Bond using his gondola for pretty cool purposes. He then proceeds to drive through Venice in this GondolaMobile, to the surprise of everyone he passes, including a pigeon. That’s right; Moonraker features a double-taking pigeon. Brilliant!

Yet despite all this Moonraker never completely loses you, even when it goes into space. In fact, the idea of sending Bond into space can be a good one. However, once up there the film goes completely and utterly off the rails, when out of nowhere it is revealed that the fighting will not be done with real guns, but instead laser guns. In case there was any doubt as to whether or not Moonraker was meant to capitalize on the Star Wars craze, this crushes it indisputably.

When it comes down to it, though, I would rather watch Moonraker than The Man with the Golden Gun any day of the week, as the former is relatively harmless in its failure. The intentions are good enough, as it is clear everyone involved wanted to make a light sci-fi picture with James Bond thrown in, but it’s so light that it becomes nonexistent. One of the main villains in Moonraker is Jaws, the steel-toothed madman from The Spy Who Loved Me. Only this time he is no longer menacing, but a buffoon who falls in love with a small blonde woman half his size. Also, Jaws ends up coming over to Bond’s side at the end. Over the course of two films, Jaws went from a menacing villain to a punchline. This all comes from the 007 team’s decision to focus more on humor than action, and the result is hopelessly silly, yet fascinating in all the wrong ways. The basic mentality behind Moonraker is best explained by our good friend Donald O’Connor:


VIDEO COULD NOT EMBED: CLICK HERE TO VIEW

Predictably, Moonraker ended up being a huge hit around the world, but it became clear to the filmmakers that people were dissatisfied by the final product. So, as the James Bond series went into the 80’s, they left the mentality of Moonraker behind and attempted to make a “back-to-basics” James Bond film. This was a result of John Glen being named the new director, who obviously was not a fan of the big-and-brainless Bond films such as Moonraker. His first feature as director, For Your Eyes Only, was the 007 equivalent of saying “Disco Sucks.” (It all comes back around, folks.)

Originally For Your Eyes Only was intended to introduce the world to a new actor playing James Bond, but Roger Moore decided to keep the role. This is one of the reasons the pre-credits sequence seems odd, returning Blofeld to the series for the first time since Diamonds are Forever, only you never see his face and he is never named. (The fact that he’s bald and petting a cat sort of narrows down the choices, however.) The sequence begins with Bond visiting the grave of his late wife Tracy (from On Her Majesty’s Secret Service), at which point he is kidnapped in a helicopter and taken to die. Eventually he remedies the situation, but not before a few bad puns by Blofeld and some ridiculous music from composer Bill Conti (who is still too much in Rocky mode throughout.) All in all, it’s one of the more regrettable pre-credits sequences the series ever did.

It gets better from there, however, as For Your Eyes Only becomes a minor but relatively effective Cold War thriller with some great moments and one of the best performances Roger Moore ever gave as our hero. It’s not an unforgettable film, but it works well enough. More importantly, it calmed the series down a bit after it all got so out of hand with Moonraker. It’s a movie which is more remembered for its importance to the series rather than being all that great, but without a movement against disco, it might still exist.

One of the joys of re-watching some of these movies again for this feature has been the opening credits sequences, almost always brilliantly made by Maurice Binder. Even in the direst of Bond films, you could always count on a couple minutes of art before the movie ever really kicked in. Nowadays, you don’t see many credits sequences at the beginnings of movies, and as such I’m a sucker for a credits sequence done really well. Binder, who designed the credits sequences for just about each film before his death in 1991, is at his best in For Your Eyes Only. I leave you with the video of these credits below.

Next Week: Roger Moore’s final two films are two of the most under-rated Bond films in the series. Await my stirring defense!