1973 Bond movie
Rating: 12/20
Plot: Bond tries to bust up an evil mastermind's plan to get everybody hooked on heroin.
Roger Moore came in silly guns a'blazin' in this, his first movie as James Bond. This isn't as effective as the equally-silly follow-up, The Man with the Golden Gun, likely because there's no Herve Villechaize. As silly as some of these Bond movies (especially the Moore ones) can be, this one still somehow manages to stand out like something that almost feels like a parody. Before the credits and that Paul McCartney song, there are three murders involving irritating sounds, a fake-looking snake, and a dixieland casket. Along the way, you get henchman with intimidating metallic arms, (a guy named Tee Hee, naturally) James Bond escaping from a predicament by jumping on crocodiles' heads like he's the character in Atari's Pitfall, a chase with an airplane where the plane never leaves the ground, a boat chase, a sheriff character (Clifton James' J.W. Peppers, not doing anything here which would make you think he should be in the follow-up as well) who seems straight out of a Smokey and the Bandit rip-off, virginal Tarot card readings, voodoo dancers, all sorts of mystical shit, a shark, a double-decker bus, a musical number, death-by-compressed-gas-pellet, and a character named Whispers.
So it's kind of mindless fun. But there's an issue. This Bond film wants to piggybank off the popularity of blaxploitation, and it does so in a way that seems so backwards and dated 45 years later. In this movie, there are lots of black characters. The problem is that every single character--from the cab driver with those fantastic sideburns to Mr. Big and his henchmen to a whiny and screeching double agent--are all bad guys. Well, except one. There's one black character who's a good guy, but he doesn't really do much of anything and dies offscreen unceremoniously. But don't worry--we get to see a whole lot of black people shot, and Tee Hee, Whisper, and Mr. Big et. al. die spectacularly. It just didn't make me feel good to see a movie in which all the good guys are white people and all the bad guys are black. And don't get me started on any subtexts about black people being responsible for bringing drugs into communities or nonsense like that. The whole thing even managed to make the Bond movies' usual attitude toward women less palatable.
I did like Jane Seymour as Solitaire, the Bond girl in this one. Along with that Bond motif, the character also gets a gadget, a silly, overused magnetic watch. And he gets to go to exotic locales--like Harlem. And there are all sorts of delightfully bad punning quips. The character fits Roger Moore well. I always like him in these things.
I'd forever be thankful to this movie for having a character teach me about the difference between alligators and crocodiles, something my long-time blog readers know I've always had a problem with, but unfortunately, I've already forgotten the difference.
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