With the release of No Time To Die, Daniel Craig's final outing as James Bond, the question will be asked: is it good? How does it stand in a franchise of twenty-four (now twenty-five) films?
Each film was judged on the following criteria:
How Bond is Bond?
How interesting/unique is the film? What makes it stand out?
Story
Action - Intensity, creativity and believability
Characters - Villains, Girls, Allies and Henchpeople of note
Music - Title songs and score
With all those factors in mind, here is Eric’s ranking of the Bond series to date.
Note: Some spoilers abound. It is recommended readers watch the films at least once or have enough passing knowledge before reading ahead. Summations of the films older than 10 years will make this assertion.
Skyfall (2012): Daniel Craig’s third film is without a doubt the franchise at its absolute, distilled best, a story that Ian Fleming would have been proud of. At its core, Skyfall reflects on James Bond as a character, at once questioning his ability, relevance and even mortality and reinforcing them in a manner only James Bond can accomplish. Javier Bardem’s Silva is perfect as a dark, vicious reflection of Bond taking revenge on M, resulting in a uniquely personal plot and storyline (attempted in The World Is Not Enough with mixed results). The depth of the film’s story and characters without sacrificing the associated types of action and tech make it a worthy celebration of the franchise (infinitely more so than Die Another Day’s attempt ten years earlier). Skyfall is at its best when it chooses to do what few films before it did: daring to not play it safe. The resulting gray moralities and action involved are expertly brought to life by director Sam Mendes and scored by first-time Bond composer Thomas Newman. Adele’s somber title song is also stands among the best the franchise has to offer. The film may turn off those who dislike its grounded, subdued story, but Skyfall is the truest the franchise has been to Fleming’s character and sticks nearly every landing it leaps for.
No Time To Die (2021): Daniel Craig was afforded an opportunity no Bond actor before him received: a definitive ending. No Time To Die took the raw, darker, and more emotional beats of Craig’s films and utilized them in a way that brought a true finality to his run. Facing yet another apparent betrayal, Bond is alone and separated from his past when Felix Leiter requests his help for a mission that has more devastating ramifications than any of them could have imagined. Lyutsifer Safin (Rami Malek) and his plot feel like they were pulled from the franchise’s cornier installments, but the grounded, personal stakes involved make them far more consequential and devastating, forcing Bond into more desperate corners than faced by the Bonds before him. Director Cary Joji Fukanaga brings an artful visual language that makes every scene beautiful to some degree, even in its uglier moments. In the vein of “Skyfall” and “Writing’s On The Wall,” Billie Eilish’s title theme is truly haunting for a Bond film, an oral rumination of Bond’s broken desires. No time is wasted in the film; every moment is relevant and contributing to the narrative, all without any sense of being overlong or too short. Fans and audiences will disagree on the film’s climax (the only reason this film is ranked second instead of first), but regardless of arguments for or against this moment, No Time To Die is a top-tier Bond film, and deservedly so.
Casino Royale (2006): After Die Another Day died a dud, the producers wisely decided the best approach would be reversing course. The result was the official adaption of Casino Royale, Ian Fleming’s first Bond novel and starring Daniel Craig for his first go at Bond. Building off the novel, the film sets Bond in a world where gadgets do little to help him, forcing him to rely on his wits and endurance to survive, often ending with once rare moments of physical and even emotional vulnerability becoming the norm. In the process of dismantling a terrorist network, Bond must match contend with Le Chiffre (Mads Mikkelsen), a financier who Bond unwittingly brings into debt, aided by allies with uncertain allegiances. Casino Royale’s strengths lie in its grounded approach, allowing Craig to stand even taller when he channels the classic Bond. Returning GoldenEye director Martin Campbell repeats his success with this film, beautifully alternating between the dirty, brutal violence with pristine landscapes and scenery. David Arnold also returns, his score favoring Chris Cornell’s “You Know My Name” over the classic theme until the end, an aspect that works well. Adapting the book for this film does exactly what the series needed: injecting a degree of complexity, nuance and vulnerability in its characters that had become paper cutouts over time. Although Craig’s following films work with this in their own ways, Casino Royale stands out among them for starting the trend.
Goldfinger (1964): One of two movies is oft cited as the defining Bond film, and Goldfinger is rightfully one of them. After two movies of experimentation, Goldfinger crafts the Bond formula as much as it builds off the prior two films, bringing a grandeur befitting the title to the story as well as grounded, dirtier action. Bond is assigned to find how Gert Fröbe’s Auric Goldfinger is smuggling gold, bringing him into a revenge plot and an unprecedented attack on the American gold supply. Fröbe (his own voice dubbed) is a standout Bond villain, his iconic love for gold and carnage (“No, Mr. Bond, I expect you to die!”) along with his long-term scheming ability making him one of the casually deadliest of Bond’s enemies. Equally iconic are Harold Sakata’s hat-throwing Oddjob and Honor Blackman’s pilot Pussy Galore. The film also sees the first pairing of Bond and the Aston Martin DB5, setting a franchise-wide affinity for the vehicle. John Barry also returns in fine form, crafting Shirley Bassy’s iconic title song and crystalizing the developing musical identity for Bond. Goldfinger rarely disappoints, if ever, and its reputation as a defining Bond film is certainly earned.
From Russia With Love (1963): Although Dr. No was a fair start, From Russia With Love is rightfully considered a better sequel and an overall top-tier Bond film. Building off its predecessor, From Russia With Love embraces the tropes of spying and espionage in a twisted web in which Bond, knowing the likely trap he’s walking into, must play the game his enemies have laid out for him. Robert Shaw quietly dominates his time as Red Grant, trailing Bond as a silent, deadly guardian until the time comes for his move to be made. On the opposite side, Pedro Armendáriz shines as Kerim Bey, one of Bond’s most colorful and loyal allies in the films. Daniela Bianchi rounds out the main cast of players as Tatiana Romanova, the conflicted Russian agent whose loyalties are put to the test in S.P.E.C.T.R.E.’s plot to put an end to Bond. The film devotes a significant time to setup and characterization, aspects that, while not as showy as the series would later be known for, provide the perfect backdrop for its action to unfold. While somewhat light on action, these moments – such as Bond and Grant’s fight on the Orient Express, as well as the film’s climactic boat chase – are gritty and spectacular, the ultimate showcase for what future Bond films would strive to be. While Dr. No would create the Bond blueprint and Goldfinger would codify it, From Russia With Love plays a critical point in establishing the ground rules for the films to come.
The World Is Not Enough (1999): Although most Bond fans argue GoldenEye is Brosnan’s best, it falls short of being there on two key factors: its major villain twist is spoiled in the trailer, and the almost entirely synthesized score, satisfactory in different circumstances, feels badly out of place. By contrast, The World Is Not Enough does a much better job of keeping its main villain secret, and David Arnold channels John Barry’s Bond style unashamedly for a second run. The best thing that can be said for The World Is Not Enough is that it seems a trial run for what Skyfall eventually became: Bond’s relationship with the villain is complex and puts Brosnan’s normally unflappable performance in a vulnerable, conflicted position, with M playing a pivotal role in the story. Although a car chase is disappointingly absent, the action sequences are entertaining and tense, carrying the story and rarely feeling without purpose. While it does stand up as an attempt at a deeper and somewhat more realistic, complex Bond film, its main failing is that it ultimately chooses to play it safe, falling on some tired familiar Bond tropes; although said reliance doesn’t doom the film, it does severely weaken the impact it would have had.
For Your Eyes Only (1981): Following Bond’s trip into space in Moonraker, the producers wisely decided to take a grounded, storied approach for the next film. Although his contract had already expired, Roger Moore decided to return for this film, his age and maturity making him a perfect foil for Carole Bouquet’s Melina Havelock. Bond’s double-sided mission includes retrieving a British Royal Navy device before the Russians and stopping Melina’s quest for vengeance when her parents are murdered due to their involvement. John Glen begins his tenure directing every Bond film in the 80’s, grounding his run in a way not seen since From Russia With Love. Sheena Easton’s title song is rightfully considered one of the best songs in the series, while Bill Conti (Rocky, The Karate Kid) admirably takes over scoring reigns for this film. The film’s action set pieces are often gripping and tense, such as when villain Kristatos (Julian Glover) drags Bond and Melina behind his yacht and a nail-biting sequence in which Bond scales a cliff. The film’s grey morality among seeming allies and enemies is an especially unique aspect that the prior films rarely tackle in a meaningful way. For focusing on its characters and story and the twists it takes, For Your Eyes Only is one of the series’ better entries.
The Spy Who Loved Me (1977): Widely considered Moore’s best Bond film, and with good reason. The Spy Who Loved Me abandons the bizarre attempts at incorporating racial cultural movements as Moore’s previous two films had, instead opting for a more basic plot reminiscent of Connery’s films. Bond’s mission to retrieve a microfilm brings him to blows with Barbara Bach’s Anya Amasova/XXX, leading the two working to prevent World War III. Amasova gets few moments to shine as Bond’s Russian equivalent, but her presence and confidence is a welcome refresher after nearly seven years of mostly damsels in distress. Curt Jürgens as Karl Stromberg is one of the series more subdued villains, although his schemes are no less vile. Few threats could be as intense, though, as Richard Kiel’s Jaws, a mammoth human being with a penchant for using his metallic dental work as murder weapons. The film’s action and set pieces are among some of the series’ highlights, the least of which include Bond’s parachute jump, the Lotus Esprit chase and the final confrontations aboard the Liparus and Stromberg’s base. Marvin Hamlisch’s score is fun change of pace, incorporating many disco sensibilities at times, although much of it is shamefully unreleased. After the previous three Bond films of the 70’s bordered on self-parody, The Spy Who Loved Me’s serious tone is also welcome, offering a perspective on Bond’s duties not often seen in the older films.
Thunderball (1965): Although its plot would prove fodder for Austin Powers, Thunderball is a particularly standout Bond film when watched on its own merits. S.P.E.C.T.R.E. returns, stealing a nuclear warhead and holding it for ransom. Bond is one of many agents assigned to locate it, his mission bringing him to blows with S.P.E.C.T.R.E.’s cycloptic schemer Emilio Largo (Adolfo Celi). Thunderball follows and builds off of Goldfinger’s example in solidifying the Bond formula of lush, beautiful scenery, a nebulous, evil organization threatening the world, women Bond must contend with on both sides, and Bond finding danger in the most seemingly unlikely places. The tropical scenery as well as the underwater sequences offer the film (and by extension, the series) a more expansive visual language contrasting with the previous films and building off Dr. No before it. Much like Goldfinger, the tension and danger Bond faces is very real and played with the utmost sincerity. John Barry’s score is particularly noteworthy, namely the mysterious, descending underwater theme as well as the mostly forgotten “007” motif in the film’s climax. Tom Jones’ bombastic title song will never not be a major highlight, although the mystery of whether he passed out in the final note will forever be debated. Thunderball’s only noticeable weakness lies in some bizarre editing choices in its one-on-one fight scenes. Regardless, Thunderball is a standard-setting Bond film worth watching.
On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969): When Sean Connery departed after defining Bond for almost a decade, fate landed on first-time actor George Lazenby to reinvent the wheel. While the popular argument was Lazenby failed as Bond, the truth is Lazenby does an admirable job in his only outing. Lazenby injects a sense of self-awareness in his portrayal (“This never happened to the other fellow”) as well as a sense of vulnerability in his scenes with Diana Rigg’s Tracy, a combination that the film finds to work surprisingly well. Telly Savalas is an inspired choice as Blofeld, playing a more active role in events and having more personality while being as sinister as ever. Long time Bond editor Peter Hunt equally proves his potential as director, capably handling the Bond formula for his only film. Compared to its predecessors, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service is slower and low-key in its action and a bit heavier on plot and characterization. It is by no means a bad film and it is wrong to assert that Lazenby, Savalas and Hunt’s absences are a product of their unsuitability. The unused potential would have introduced a more Fleming-accurate Bond far ahead of Dalton and Craig, but would it in turn makes On Her Majesty’s Secret Service a truly unique Bond film.
GoldenEye (1995): After a spectacular cock block thwarted his first go nearly a decade earlier, Pierce Brosnan finally got his chance to play Bond. GoldenEye – named after Ian Fleming’s Jamaican estate where he crafted the Bond character – pits Bond against Janus, who plans to use a Soviet EMP-based weapon in a plot that equally invokes the past and the future. The twist involving Janus’ identity is, as stated, disappointingly revealed in the film’s trailer. Regardless, Sean Bean as Alec Trevelyan – formerly Bond’s partner and friend 006 – is a uniquely personal villain, and his betrayal is handled fairly well by Brosnan’s Bond, a trait that would only be rivaled in The World Is Not Enough. Famke Janssen and Alan Cumming are also entertaining as the thigh-crushing Xenia Onatopp and nerdy but sinister Boris, respectively. Izabella Scorupco also stars as Natalya Simonova, who also shares a personal connection the film’s villains. The film also introduces Judi Dench as M, an older woman who makes it clear she will have none of Bond’s antics, but trusts him to get the job done. Martin Campbell’s direction is effective at uniting the series’ cold Soviet roots with the techno nature of the present. The film’s action never disappoints, although little can be done to top the tank chase. Had its villain twist not been spoiled, GoldenEye’s only flaws would be technical. The sound mix is quite dull and severely unpolished CGI often features in major points. The film’s synth-heavy score also needlessly avoids the series’ classic orchestral stylings and even Bond Theme like the plague, hurting the film when it should be musically capping Bond’s return to the screen. Nevertheless, GoldenEye is a worthwhile Bond film.
Licence To Kill (1989): Timothy Dalton’s second and final outing as Bond is a Fleming-esque story of vengeance. Licence To Kill incorporates aspects of Fleming’s novels that didn’t make the cut (such as an early scene where Felix Leiter is fed to a shark, pulled from Live And Let Die) and the fading but still strong crime dramas of the 80’s. Robert Davi is frighteningly and viciously effective as Franz Sanchez, a drug dealer who wreaks gruesome vengeance on Leiter, an act which puts him squarely in Bond’s crosshairs and forces him outside MI6 to avenge his friend. Carey Lowell’s Pam Bouvier is also one of the series’ strongest, most competent and action-oriented Bond Girls to date. With John Barry retiring from the series, Lethal Weapon and Die Hard composer Michael Kamen scores this installment, his sensibilities providing a distinctive, angrier yet more adventurous edge befitting an 80’s crime drama featuring James Bond. While darker than what audiences were used to, Licence To Kill proved what James Bond could be given the right material, a feat that wouldn’t be reached until Daniel Craig took over in 2006.
Quantum of Solace (2008): Craig’s second outing as Bond had everything to prove, continuing the tone and the story set up in Casino Royale. Quantum of Solace follows Bond still angrily reeling after a personal betrayal in Casino Royale. Bond’s quest puts him at odds with his superiors, a vulnerability that Mathieu Amalric’s suave but insidious Dominic Greene and his organization are all too keen to take advantage of. The film suffers from a plot that, although realistic for a Bond film, is more low-key and not immediately accessible, save for moments of paranoia among Bond and his allies. Likewise, the film carries the torch of being more rugged and brutal than Casino Royale, an aspect often cited to make the film “not Bond,” which is mostly the point. The film’s action sequences are especially unique, including a car chase, foot chase, dogfight and culminating in Bond and Greene fighting as a hotel explodes around them. Jeffery Wright’s return as Felix Leiter is welcome, although he is relegated to looking sour due to his all-too-obvious mole partner. The subplot involving Camille’s drive for revenge against Greene’s associate General Medrano is also welcome, if slightly rehashed from For Your Eyes Only, but meaningful here. The film also serves as the swansong for composer David Arnold, whose score is rich and textured, a fitting last outing.
Tomorrow Never Dies (1997): Pierce Brosnan returns for his second film as 007. Although GoldenEye served as an exceptional Bond introduction, the pressure was on Brosnan and the EON producers to go at it again. While it doesn’t entirely live up to GoldenEye’s example, Tomorrow Never Dies is still an exceptional Bond film, to both its detriment and benefit. The film’s biggest weakness, as most Bond films, is its reliance on plot and action with surface-level interesting characters with little depth. Having said that, the movie is perfectly entertaining by itself, with the action being entertaining and often vital, and characters who, despite the above criticism, are entertaining and meaningful, if underdeveloped. Jonathan Pryce’s Elliot Carver, a news magnate intent on starting World War III, is clearly having fun alternating between happily embracing his villainy and finding the menace beneath the bluster. Michelle Yeoh’s Wai Lin is also fun as Bond’s Chinese counterpart, despite her lack of development as a character. The film also introduces David Arnold as composer, who combines electronics with John Barry-style orchestration creating a unique but desperately needed familiar identity after GoldenEye’s entirely synth score omitted the classic Bond Theme. Despite its flaws around the edges, Tomorrow Never Dies is still a Bond film worth watching.
The Living Daylights (1987): After years of being one of the ideal actors for Bond, Timothy Dalton finally got his chance to take over after Moore (and a truly inflammatory cock block preventing fellow contender Pierce Brosnan from doing so). The Living Daylights capitalizes on this fully, recapturing the seriousness of Fleming’s Bond with the 60’s Bond wit while retaining the fun of Moore’s Bond, albeit in a more subdued fashion. Unlike its immediate predecessor, Dalton’s Bond is always a part of the action, allowing him to be more engaging and impactful after the detachment of Moore’s Bond in his last entry. Although the plot is somewhat scattershot – featuring the faked abduction of fake Soviet defector to hide from embezzlement charges – and characters active but weaker, the film offers many engaging action scenes, among them the film’s opening chase, as well as Bond’s drive with the Aston Martin V8 Vantage and cello case sledding and a fight on a plane. In the end, The Living Daylights is a fair start for Timothy Dalton that Licence To Kill would build upon. The film also sees the final Bond score of veteran composer John Barry after almost 25 years.
Spectre (2015): After Skyfall’s success proved Daniel Craig’s Bond was still viable and relevant, it was natural the studio decided to repeat the winning formula. To this end, director Sam Mendes and composer Thomas Newman returned for Craig’s fourth venture, a more “typical” Bond film. Spectre’s biggest flaw, unfortunately, lies in underdelivering on an ambitious plot. In addition to functioning as a sequel to Skyfall and embracing older Bond tropes, Spectre also establishes itself as a follow-up to Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace as well as paving the way for the return of SPECTRE from Connery’s Bond. On that note, Christoph Waltz’s turn as Blofeld is a wickedly fun twist on the character reminiscent of Hans Landa, for better and worse. Although the film’s plot and story are effective over the first two acts, it ultimately collapses in the third in its effort to be a resolution to the previous Craig films and itself, doing so far too quickly for it to be meaningful. Although it’s still nonetheless a decent Bond film in what it does well, its main fault is trying to do too much without allowing itself or audiences time to process it – exactly the opposite of the film it followed.
Dr. No (1962): Bond, James Bond is introduced to the world, investigating the disappearance of a fellow agent in Jamaica. To be brutally honest, Dr. No is not the Bond series at its best. The drama on some occasions seems somewhat forced and is, on some occasions, difficult to take seriously. That having been said, Dr. No’s significance cannot be overstated. While nearly every flaw in the series can be traced to the film, so can all of its best parts. Don’t let this ranking deceive – it is only so far down because the rest built off its example so well, leaving Dr. No the giant upon which every film after stands. The world Bond inhabits is a web of deception and obfuscation, something Sean Connery perfectly encapsulates in being both charming to his allies and unforgivingly brutal to his enemies. Joseph Wiseman is a chilling and captivating villain whose few moments in the film shine brighter than many future villains. Jack Lord is an inspired casting as Felix Leiter, although shamefully underused. The scene of Ursula Andress’ Honey Ryder emerging from the sea, set against all the espionage, forever will remain a classic moment. Better films followed this, but never misinterpret that to mean Dr. No is bad – rather, it was just the beginning.
You Only Live Twice (1967): After four exceptional films, You Only Live Twice, despite its iconic aspects, also stands as the series’ first weak entry as well as the first major divergences from Fleming’s novel. Whereas the novel focuses on Bond vengefully searching for Blofeld in the aftermath of On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, the film concerns Bond’s voyages in Japan attempting to locate the mysterious party abducting Soviet and American astronauts from space. Despite its weak story and character focus, the film offers in their place the awesome Volcano Lair set by Ken Adam, John Barry’s alluring and tense space motif, many action scenes worthy of the series, and Donald Pleasance as the finally revealed Blofeld. Tiger Tanaka and Aki are among the more creative and effective Bond allies, although Aki’s time as a character is cut short and replaced by Kissy Suzuki, who is effectively the opposite. Whereas the previous films depicted reasonably fleshed-out human beings in a complex world, You Only Live Twice distills that to its very essence, leaving unoccupied room for characterization and forcing events to happen rather than letting them happen organically or even reasonably. It’s a disappointing focus divorced from its characters when the source material was driven by them. Comparing the film to its predecessors, it becomes clear why Sean Connery decided to bow out afterward.
Octopussy (1983): Octopussy is the ultimate mixed bag Bond film, juxtaposing some of the series’ most serious moments with some of its silliest, resulting in a truly strange, tonally inconsistent film. Assigned to find what led to the murder of fellow agent 009, Bond ends up trading wits with an Afghan Prince in India and stumbling onto a Soviet plot to invade Europe. The villains – played by Louis Jourdan and Steven Berkoff – are clearly having fun with their material. Maud Adams as Octopussy is a great addition as an older and more independent Bond girl. Vijay rounds out the cast as one of Bond’s best and most interesting allies. The film’s many action sequences – the best of which involve planes, trains and automobiles and even a hot air balloon – are among some of the best the series has to offer. On the flip side, it has to be asked if it was truly necessary for unusually goofy moments in otherwise intense scenes (although they do have precedent). For what it lacks as a more-or-less Indian-themed variant of Moore’s first two films, Octopussy is worth a watch for its action and characters.
Live and Let Die (1973): The film is second-best remembered for being Sir Roger Moore’s first outing as Bond, the first being the introduction to Sir Paul McCartney’s title song, a rich, energetic theme that weaves its way into George Harrison’s score. Introductions fall into two categories: well-done or not, a line Live and Let Die straddles like a tightrope and in the end falls to the viewer’s preference. Moore’s Bond seems to have more fun than Connery and Lazenby, but is still intelligent, serious and capable enough to worm through villain Mr. Big/Dr. Kananga’s machinations. The plot is easy to lose track of in the film’s occasionally chaotic narrative – involving drug trade in the United States – but uniquely dark and realistic. The decision to focus on the then-popular Blaxploitation genre is questionable, with so many African-American characters aligned with Mr. Big (with the thankful exception of Quarrel Jr.) and its two major leads being white coming dangerously close to being racist, though this is more surface than substantial. Although it largely plays as a more “realistic” Bond film (hence the lack of a Q scene), moments in the film veering into both the supernatural and outright cartoonish make that position questionable. Still, Moore’s first Bond film is an enjoyable ride on its own merits.
A View to a Kill (1985): Moore decided to return for one final film in the 80’s, a decision he admits being a mistake. Although being the oldest Bond at the beginning of his time was well-hidden, his age (58) finally shows in A View to a Kill. It’s possibly because of this that Bond is uniquely uninvolved in the film’s action, serving largely to aid other characters in the film’s climax rather than directly himself. A slow first act involving microchips and horse races hurts the film when it should be engaging, as does the film’s tendency to kill off its (often interesting) secondary characters. Having said all that, the film does have its high points. Duran-Duran’s title song, along with John Barry’s score, are enjoyable to listen to. Although his violent actions created controversy, Christopher Walken’s performance as villain Max Zorin is entertaining, for both the wrong and right reasons. Grace Jones also does admirably as Zorin’s villainess May Day, a dark turn as the female antagonist capable of throwing down with Bond. Patrick MacNee also strikes a good chemistry with Bond as Tippet, an alliance with is all too short-lived.
Moonraker (1979): Bond goes to space. What else needs to be said about one of the franchise’s most infamous installments? Moonraker serves as the Bond series’ answer to the science fiction craze started by a few films in 1977. Despite its campier moments and the outrageous pitch of a climactic battle centered on a space station, the movie is better when it takes itself seriously enough, such as the vicious off-screen death of villain Hugo Drax’s secretary early in the film. Although his plan makes him one of the series’ most vile antagonists, Drax’s villainy is largely hurt by how he is clearly a villain – a departure from the novel in which Bond views him as a personal hero and discovers he is actually a Nazi in hiding. The fact that much of the film can be considered a zanier, space-themed version of its immediate predecessor The Spy Who Loved Me (down to the return of Jaws) is a detriment to Moonraker’s ability to stand on its own merits. Regardless of its flaws, Moonraker commits to its concept, evident perhaps nowhere more so than Shirley Bassey’s odd but beautiful title theme. Moonraker isn’t the best the Bond series has to offer, and while it may be a skippable entry, it’s still worth a watch.
Die Another Day (2002): After revitalizing Bond for three films in the 90’s, Brosnan’s contract offered him the option to leave or return for a last film that would bring Bond into the 21st Century and celebrate 20 films; in hindsight, the former might have been the better option. Die Another Day is a classic Bond film, in nearly all the worst ways and few of the best. Brosnan’s Bond is determined to find who ratted him out during a mission in North Korea, which leads him to a diamond smuggling ring and, with all seriousness, a North Korean space laser. The context makes sense, but embracing the heavy science fiction leanings from the 60’s and 70’s ultimately hurts the film. What makes it worse is how often the film flirts with genuinely interesting concepts – such as Bond’s renegade pursuit of a traitorous agent and a father/son relationship at the core of the villain’s motivations – that it resolves with such little fanfare, their inclusion feels almost wasted. It also hurts that much of its story and performances seem phoned in, leaving many of the one-liners, gadgets and stunt work – often using unpolished CGI effects – struggling to carry the weight of the film. Having said that, moments when the film actually tries – such as the hovercraft chase and the aptly named “Duel of the Cars” – are engaging and unique to serve as bright spots. It simply is unfortunate for Brosnan’s tenure to end on such a low note.
The Man with the Golden Gun (1974): It is, with little debate, a fact that Moore’s second film as Bond is his sophomore slump. The film mixes elements from Live and Let Die with Diamonds Are Forever, a combination that unfortunately hurts the film. Bond discovers a renowned hitman is targeting him, a plot that takes him into China and eventually culminates in a showdown dealing with solar power. The villain, Scaramanga, is played flawlessly by Sir Christopher Lee, polite but calculating and menacing when called upon, an improvement on the book’s version. Having said that, the rest leaves much to be desired. Having Moore’s Bond angrier and more tense makes sense given the plot, but is not a good way to mark his second outing. The film’s problems can personified by a single scene in which Bond flips a car 360 degrees over a river – an incredible stunt, hurt by a slide whistle in the sound mix. Likewise, the characters of Mary Goodnight, Nick Nack and Sheriff Pepper (briefly returning from Live and Let Die) are cartoonish additions, as is the film’s attempt to cash in on the kung fu craze of the early 70’s. Not terrible or unenjoyable, but difficult.
Diamonds Are Forever (1971): It has to be said: Sean Connery, the man who encompassed James Bond and blasted the character into the public zeitgeist, deserved better. So, so much better. Even on its own merits as a singular film, Diamonds Are Forever is rough to get through, worse so if one follows it as a sequel to the less silly You Only Live Twice or the more serious On Her Majesty’s Secret Service. The film embraces an unabashedly campy tone (and not in a good way) that clashes badly with a diamond smuggling plot (one of the film’s few holdovers from the novel) and the rather forced inclusion of S.P.E.C.T.R.E. and Blofeld. It also serves as a brutal tone shift compared to the solemn and dark ending of the previous film. There is a detachment from the characters (including Bond) that makes them surface-level interesting but does little to make them compelling and worth following. The film’s main theme, sung by a returning Shirley Bassey, is unique and pleasant, although the double entendre lyrics are questionable. Discounting 1983’s Never Say Never Again, Diamonds Are Forever is not a bad film, but a disappointing final outing for Connery’s Bond, and a disappointing film overall.
- Never Say Never Again (1983): Somewhat thankfully, Diamonds Are Forever would not be Connery’s final outing as Bond. Following producer Kevin McClory’s longtime grudge with Ian Fleming over the publication of Thunderball, he sought to create his own rival Bond series, starting by remaking Thunderball and hiring Sean Connery to sell the plan. Never Say Never Again features all the hallmarks of classic Bond and takes a few unique directions, although not without its own misfires. Some elements and plot developments are contrived even for a Bond film. Klaus Maria Brandeur and Max von Sydow are astoundingly good as Maximillian Largo and Blofeld. Irvin Kershner’s direction also meshes well with his attempt at the Bond formula, hampered only by some questionable moments. Kim Basinger is disappointingly underutilized as Domino compared to the character in the 1965 film and especially so to the titular character in Octopussy. With a motorcycle chase, Bond’s underwater pursuit by tiger sharks, and the climactic battle sequences, the film’s action are suitably unique and engaging. Despite its weaknesses, Never Say Never Again is better final outing for Connery than Diamonds Are Forever, although not by much. Likewise, the film loses to Octopussy, although oddities in that film and the strengths of Never Say Never Again result in a close margin. Never Say Never Again is worth a watch, if only to watch Sean Connery inhabit James Bond for the final time.
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