1995-1997: Enter Brosnan
A funny thing happened between 1989 and 1995. The Soviet Union collapsed, and many feared that would mean the death of James Bond’s raison d’être. Bond was created with the intention of being a cold warrior and a symbol of western superiority. Though in the films he rarely (if ever) faced off against the Soviets directly, the anti-Communist subtext could not be ignored. Now that the Iron Curtain had fallen, what was left for James Bond to fight for?
When production finally got around to GoldenEye, the filmmakers decided to address this dilemma head-on. There was an extended production delay after Licence to Kill; so long that Timothy Dalton decided to leave. Replacing him was Pierce Brosnan, who almost got the role instead of Dalton after the departure of Roger Moore in 1985. In the past, when new actors have stepped into the role, the series never really attempted a complete overhaul, settling for mere tonal changes instead. GoldenEye seemed to be searching for ways to change the course of the series completely.
While Licence to Kill might have been the darkest Bond film yet it terms of content, GoldenEye is certainly the darkest in terms of physical lighting. There’s a gritty feel to the proceedings that doesn’t provide the usual gloss found in most Bond films. This is likely why many pick it as the strongest of the Brosnan Bond films, as his later films would tend to feel a little too pre-packaged.
It tells an interesting story as well. For the first time in the series the audience is introduced to a second ‘00’ Agent: Alec “006” Travelyan, played by Sean “Boromir” Bean. The pre-credits sequence introduces him as one of Bond’s best friends, but later it is discovered that 006 is actually the head of the “Janus” crime syndicate. Brosnan and Bean have a pretty terrific chemistry in GoldenEye; playing two characters who obviously came from the same place. In fact, Bean would make a pretty plausible James Bond himself.
Among the more brilliant of the changes was the casting of Judi Dench as the new M. Since the series’ inception, the MI6 portrayed in the films has been something of a boys’ club. This is understandable; as such a workplace likely was dominated by men from the ’60s through the ’80s. Even though the Soviet Union had fallen, a new danger faced the world: political correctness.
However, Dench proved to be more than a mere diversity hire. She added a new dimension to the Bond-M relationship that hadn’t been there before. It had long been contentious, but now there was an M who provided a counterpoint to his more chauvinistic qualities. In fact, at one point she comes out and says just as much, calling him a “sexist, misogynist dinosaur” and “a relic of the Cold War.” In this one scene the filmmakers took on all criticisms of the 007 character and acknowledged them. This made the transition to the new decade go down a little easier.
My last post began with a mention of the late, great John Barry, who scored the vast majority of Bond films up through The Living Daylights. When Brosnan entered the arena, new producers Michael G. Wilson, Barbara Broccoli and director Martin Campbell wanted to try a new musical experiment which would bring the series into the future. Sadly, it would fail miserably. Éric Serra was chosen to score GoldenEye, and in scene after scene he seems to be going out of his way to drain thefilm of excitement. Bond scores are meant to be rousing and able to the audience’s interest. Serra chooses to take a more brooding route. He uses electronics in a way that make the film sound like it’s being set to elevator music… if the elevator was descending into Hell. The only scene where the music really works is during the tank chase in St. Petersburg. However, it turns out that scene was scored by an outsider (John Altman) who was brought in when the filmmakers were dissatisfied with Serra’s work.
There are several problems with GoldenEye, but it’s one of the more important Bond films ever made. Brosnan was able to slip into the role faster than most 007 actors, and he would have made a significant mark on the series even if this was the only film he ever did in the series. In fact, despite its problems, it probably is the best of his entries.
The second film of the Brosnan era, Tomorrow Never Dies, began to take the series in a much blander direction. It has its moments and memorable characters, but it began the descent of the Bond films into a sort of purgatory that would last straight through to Brosnan’s final Bond film Die Another Day. None of these films are completely worthless, and I would only classify one of them as “bad,” but none of them have much value besides being minor 2-hour distractions.
Tomorrow Never Dies is particularly guilty of giving in to convention after a while. It begins with a pretty cool pre-credits sequence in which Bond opens a sizable can of butt-whoopin’ on unsuspecting terrorists hiding out on the Russian border. Soon after we meet Elliot Carver, a media mogul with dreams of megalomania played in a memorably cartoonish fashion by Jonathan Pryce. He is always a load of fun onscreen, and as a result Carver becomes the best part of the whole ordeal.
After the promising setup, Tomorrow Never Dies devolves into mechanical formula, hitting all the expected beats the absolute second you expect them. It does it all reasonably well, but never elevates itself to the level of the series’ best entries. As such, Tomorrow Never Dies is the least notable film of the Brosnan era. It isn’t the worst, but it offers the least to talk about. The next two films, and Brosnan’s final two, would attempt to take the series to stranger places, but they’d eventually find themselves back where they started without breaking much of a sweat. The Brosnan era can best be described as simultaneously bold and timid.
Next Week: Bond faces two of his greatest enemies: a man who feels no pain, and terrible CGI effects.
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