You Look Smashing for Fifty, Mr. Bond: A Half-Century of 007

On October 5, 1962, Dr. No had its world premiere at the London Pavilion Theatre, marking the first big-screen appearance of James Bond.  The secret agent, codenamed 007, had been featured in a series of novels by Ian Fleming, an ex-British Naval Intelligence Officer who took the name of his protagonist from the author of a book on Caribbean birds.  The low-budget film was the first of twenty-three movies that would become the most popular cinematic franchise of all-time.

In celebration of the series' longevity, today has been dubbed "Global James Bond Day," with a series of events around the world commemorating the films' fiftieth anniversary.  The new single by Adele that will accompany the opening credits of Skyfall – the latest installment that will have its world premiere in London on October 23 – was released earlier today.  Everything or Nothing: The Untold Story of 007 (Stevan Riley, 2012), a new documentary chronicling the franchise's history hit UK cinemas.  And tomorrow night James Bond himself, Daniel Craig will host Saturday Night Live in Manhattan. 

With a movie being released about every two to three years, 007 has been one of the most consistent presences in cinema, and also one of its most durable and relevant characters.  This success has come amidst a wide range of quality and difference in style across the franchise, which has run the gamut from superb, tightly-plotted thrillers to pandering, utterly embarrassing farces.  The official EON Productions movies can be separated into seven eras, each with their own distinguishable characteristics.

Of these, none have come close to the original three films, beginning with Dr. No (Terence Young, 1962), that make up the early Sean Connery era, which is unquestionably the golden age of Bond.  Their hand-to-hand action, dry humor, and comparatively small-scale plot-lines have allowed them to hold up incredibly well over the decades.  From Russia with Love (Young, 1963) transitions perfectly from one scene into the next, and features the series’ most intriguing espionage.  And then there is Goldfinger (Guy Hamilton, 1964), which has everything that one could ask for in a Bond film, and is the franchise’s best entry.  Connery is at the top of his game in this era; he is wholly convincing as a man who kills for a living and his Bond seems to get a sadistic pleasure out of doing so.

For the three films that followed in the late Connery era, Bond’s witty euphemisms and brutality remain to a certain degree.  However, these movies’ main preoccupation is spectacle.  Thunderball (Young, 1965) and You Only Live Twice (Lewis Gilbert, 1967) introduced more large-scale action, with plots centered around world domination.  The massive, technologically-advanced Ken Adam-designed volcanic lair of the latter film – which pushed Bond’s exploits into the realm of science-fiction – stands as the most impressive set piece of the franchise.  

But this era’s best film is On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (Peter R. Hunt, 1969), even though the subpar George Lazenby (who seems to function as a stand-in for Connery) takes over the role of 007.  A fantastic supporting cast, along with impressive alpine action sequences, makes up for Lazenby’s flaws and what results is one of the most compelling entries in the series.  Unfortunately, it would be the last Bond film that could truly stand on its own for quite some time.

A trio of Guy Hamilton-directed films would comprise the early Roger Moore era, which neglected the biting humor that had epitomized the series to that point in favor of a more campy, comedic feel.  The clearly-aged Sean Connery returns for one more go-around in the unexciting, blatant cash-grab that is Diamonds Are Forever (1971).  With his first appearance in the blaxploitation-themed Live and Let Die (1973), Moore brings a less brutal, more romantic feel to the character of Bond.  This initial outing would be his best, but regrettably it was directly followed by The Man with the Golden Gun (1974), whose trite humor ranks it among the worst films of the entire series.

The late Moore era would be rife with lowest-common-denominator humor, and rely far too heavily on the formula of global peril.  The first two entries, The Spy Who Loved Me (Gilbert, 1977) and Moonraker (Gilbert, 1979) are virtually the same movie.  In the former, a megalomaniac attempts to wipe out humanity in order to start a master race in an undersea colony; the latter features a similarly-inclined villain who desires to repopulate the planet from a space station.    

A toned-down, revenge focused story in For Your Eyes Only (John Glen, 1981) would provide momentary respite, but the series quickly reverted to its over-the-top corniness with Octopussy (Glen, 1983).   The low point of the franchise comes during the opening sequence of A View to a Kill (Glen, 1985), wherein the Beach Boys’ “California Girls” plays as Bond evades his attackers on a snowboard fashioned from a snowmobile rudder.  Like Connery before him, Moore – who at fifty-seven could pass for the grandfather of his female co-stars – had overstayed his welcome, and the Bond films became a stale and tired shell of their former glory.

EON Productions took a radical left turn with its move into the Timothy Dalton era.  The two films brought things back down to earth, featuring more scaled-back, personally-driven storylines and action that was more realistic.  The Living Daylights (Glen, 1987) was the freshest Bond film in nearly two decades, having no patience for the hokey gimmickry of the Moore eras.  Dalton was a far less suave, more cold-blooded James Bond than his predecessors, and in Licence to Kill (Glen, 1989) he explored a darker side of the character that hadn't yet been seen in the movies.

The six-year hiatus that followed was an uncertain time for Bond.  A series of legal disputes repeatedly delayed production on a new movie, leading Dalton to walk away from the role in 1994.  Albert R. Broccoli – who had co-produced all but one of the previous sixteen films – was in failing health.  But most important was the 1991 dissolution of the Soviet Union, which led to murmurs that James Bond would be an outmoded and irrelevant character in the new geopolitical landscape.  A revival of the Bond films seemed like a long shot.

As it turned out, the fall of communism was the best thing that could have happened to 007.  With GoldenEye (Martin Campbell, 1995) the series was transitioned beautifully into a post-Cold War world, ushering in the Pierce Brosnan era.  The film’s high-stakes action and scathing, self-deprecating humor made it the finest installment in decades.  Though Tomorrow Never Dies (Roger Spottiswoode, 1997) features one of the series’ most impressive car chase scenes, neither it nor The World is Not Enough (Michael Apted, 1999) would live up to Brosnan’s first outing.

The Brosnan era concluded with Die Another Day (Lee Tamahori, 2002), a ridiculously over-the-top, CGI-laden debacle with characters who are merely cardboard cutouts in front of needlessly bloated action.  Brosnan– who is at once ruthless and romantic, combining the best qualities of the four actors that came before him – had played an exceptional Bond but his performances were ruined by EON’s obsession with continually upping the ante, making each film “bigger and better” than the last, which only led to mediocrity.  The franchise had lost its way, and it was time for a 180-degree turnaround.

It got just that with the current Daniel Craig era, which has been defined by its gritty action and focus on Bond’s personal demons and character flaws.  Craig, who was a highly controversial casting choice, silenced the critics in Casino Royale (Campbell, 2006), which reboots the franchise and follows Bond on his first mission as 007.  The second-best film in the series, it is not only a great Bond movie, but an excellent film in its own right, something the franchise hadn’t seen in decades.  

Craig – who returned in the revenge-themed Quantum of Solace (Marc Forster, 2008) – plays Bond as a broken man who uses violence, sex and alcohol as a shell to protect the highly vulnerable psyche that lies inside, and his portrayal is the closest to the “anonymous blunt instrument” that Fleming had imagined.  His run will continue later this autumn with Skyfall (Sam Mendes, 2012), which should benefit from the four-year layoff that resulted from co-distributor MGM’s financial troubles.

More time has always seemed to bode well for the franchise; GoldenEye and Casino Royale came after six and four-year gaps, respectively, and both were vast improvements over the films that had come directly before them.  As is tradition, Skyfall's plot is a closely-guarded secret, and only shreds of the story can be gleaned from trailers and promotional material.  Craig is set to star in two more films, which EON has said will return to a two-year production cycle.  It could be difficult to keep the quality up within a tighter timeframe, but the Craig era has yet to disappoint so it’s not something to worry about just yet.

Though not all of them have been cinematic masterpieces, the Bond films have been successful for half a century because of their chameleonic nature.  Their plots have always adapted to reflect the zeitgeist of their respective times, and the vastly different interpretations of James Bond by the six men who have portrayed him have  kept the series fresh.  Bond may step out of the limelight every now and again, but the franchise will continue in perpetuity, with new iterations of Bond facing the dangers of the future.  Amongst all the upheavals and uncertainty that the world may go through, one thing has been and will remain inevitable:

JAMES BOND WILL RETURN