Bland. James Bland.
Ask any slack-jawed Joe Schmoe Podunk yokel who his favorite James Bond actor is and he’ll lie and say, “Sean Connery”. And sure, you might be inclined to believe that Neanderthal. After all, it don’t get no cooler that Connery saying, in that frothy Scottish burr, “Bond. James Bond.”
Well. . .actually, it does get cooler. My favorite Scottish burr comes from that miser Scrooge McDuck who uttered such classics like, “I canna find m’lucky dime!”. Heck, I even like his arch-nemesis, that devious Flinthart Glomgold! Go “Ducktales”! It’s ya birthday!
The point is, even though Connery isn’t my favorite Bond (I’ll get to that later), there was something cool and iconic about Connery’s Bond, and that’s why people always say he’s their favorite Bond. Truth is, he’s the only damn Bond they can remember!
Now, after firing Pierce Brosnon (you remember him, doncha? You know, Steel. Remington Steel.), MGM and the powers that be behind the Bond franchise are slapping us in the face with another damn Bond that we’ll quickly forget.
His name is Daniel Craig (isn’t there some rule about never trusting men with two first names?) and he has the irrevocably absurd distinction of being the first blond Bond.
So, first we had Connery, and there was never any doubt as to what was under that kilt baby! A Walther PPK! Okaaay!!!!!!
Then we had that guy that nobody remembers, George Lazenby.
Then came Roger Moore, all one-liners and one night stands.
Then came my favorite: Timothy Dalton. Granted, I probably liked him the best because he was tall as fudge but I did like his performances. And interestingly, his performance was, I recently read, the closest to the way that Ian Fleming wrote Bond. Now, if you ignoramuses would bother cracking open a book or doing some research, you’d find that Mr. Fleming didn’t intend for Bond to be some jig-head poon hound. He was to be a serious agent serving Her Majesty, damnit!
Then came the Irishman, Brosnon, who’s Bond was a cheap mixture of Connery’s and Moore’s. He was a-shootin’ and a-screwin’, and usually at the same damn time. To give Brosnon his props, the Irishman did rather well as Bond, serving up a nice helping of cheddar for MGM and the Broccoli crew (who produce the franchise) however, he faced stiff competition from another pistol-packing, karate-chopping, car-chasing action anti-hero: Bourne. Jason Bourne.
Matt Damon took over as Jason Bourne, a role created in the land of TV mini-series by Richard Chamerlain, and although I am loathe to say it, Matt did a damn good job as the apathetic amnesiac assassin. Even though the Bourne movies lack the intricate and highly improbable plotting that is present in the Robert Ludlum novels on which they are based, these current screen adaptations are excellent, spy vs. spy at its best.
Now, here is what I think you should do. If you want to know how this darker, grittier, edgier, more character driven Bond will be then just go out and rent the Bourne movies. My guess is that Daniel Craig and the producers will use Matt Damon’s performance in the Bourne Identity as a paradigm.
In the Bourne movies, Matt Damon’s Jason Bourne is a trained killer but, and this is the most important thing, he had flaws. Serious flaws. Like, “he can kill a man with a folded newspaper and he doesn’t know why” flaws. Damon portrays Bourne with an apathetic pathos; he’s full of melodrama and histrionics and yet he can smother those raging emotions. He doesn’t exactly cry into his pillow at night but the point is, you get the feeling that he wants to, and that’s why you feel his pain, man, that’s why you want him to kick ass and take names. Even if he is Matt “punk-ass” Damon and as such does not deserve the level of box office success that he’s achieved with this franchise.
(You must excuse galaxyMafia. . .she has to take a moment to have a apoplectic fit: It should have been Ben Affleck as Jack Ryan, damn it! It should have been Ben with the big box office paper!)
Recently, an online article had this to say about Daniel Craig:
“. . .Craig radiates a magnetic, volatile screen presence. If this is how he plays Bond, then the new 007 will be one steely, ballsy son-of-a-bitch. . .”
Promises, promises. . .
Craig as the new Bond promises to be all hard and soft at the same time, sort of like a ‘smore. The producers are promising that we’ll find out what makes Bond who he is, what shaped and molded him, and what gave him texture. They promise that we’ll discover why he likes his martinis “shaken, not stirred” (which will be some explanation that won’t be as clever as the writers hope it will) and why he prefers one night stands (um, could it be because he’s a cold-hearted horny misogynistic bastard, perhaps. . .?). They even promise (Lord willing, if the crick don’t rise!) that James will (collective gasp) FALL IN LOVE. Can’t you just heart Nat crooning now? “When I fall in love. . .it will be forever. . .”
Nevertheless, all their promises sound to me like a whole lot of sound and fury signifying nothing (now, was that a Shakespeare or a Faulkner literary allusion, you ask? Well, it’s up to you! What’s that. . .? Never heard of Faulkner? Don’t understand Shakespeare. . .? Hmmm. . .pity).
The long and short of it is, this new blond Bond is a huge mistake and not just because of the hair color (I mean, can’t you see all the blond Bond jokes. . .comedy writers are rejoicing as I type this!). We who love and embrace and stroke and pet the Bond franchise don’t want some darker, grittier, edgier Bond. We don’t want to get dragged into Bond’s melodramatic pathos. We don’t want to know hurts him, what demons hound him, what atrocities have broken his heart. It’s a trip we don’t want to take and I say we act like petulant three-year-olds and refuse to get in the damn car! We don’t really want to know why he likes his martinis shaken (he just does, and we’re okay with that), and we don’t care why he’s a fervid slut puppy (he just is and that’s cool with us). We don’t want the mysteries of James Bond solved. We just want him to chase the bad guys, get the girl and spew a lot of lame ass double entendre along the way.
Let Matt Damon as Jason Bourne handle the pathos. James Bond will take care of the p*ssy!!
One thing I know is this: When the new, gritty Bond comes to the big screen in the form of Daniel Craig, I shall not be there.
All I can say is. . .
Bye. James Bye.
copyright 2005. . .mafia. GalaxyMafia likes her martinis neither shaken nor stirred and longs for the days when she would come home from school and watch "DuckTales". . .(sigh). . .oh, Unca Scrooge!!!!! I hardly knew ye!