*Pretty much the same as my 2021 ranking, except with No Time to Die added in.
Number 1: On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969) In one of the oddest contradictions of the franchise, they lost their secret weapon (Sean Connery) and should have been considered toast—yet came up with the best James Bond movie to date (despite the goofy title). George Lazenby isn’t bad (in fact, he’s really good), it’s just that after four movies with Sean Connery, it’s like your mom comes home one day and says, “Kids, meet your new dad, Mr. Kruhulik, the janitor.” Watching it now, I have this complex memory/feeling—how exciting it was to me, seeing this in the theater for the first time, when I was nine years old. I wonder if most people’s favorite 007 movie is the one that they first saw at that age? Are these movies optimized for the nine-year-old mind? Likely. This movie has some of the most watchable action (skiing) of any of them, and one of the best villain hideouts—the House on the Rock-like Alpine outpost. Also, maybe the most compelling woman character—even though she disappears for half the movie—played by Diana Rigg. It’s also got one of the all-time bummer endings in the history of action movies.
Number 2: Goldfinger (1964) This must have been one of the first things I put on my list of “Awesome Shit” once I started making culture lists (albeit mental) at age four. It’s got among the best title graphics and song (sung by Shirley Bassey). As much of a mess as it is, if you were able to save only one, it’d be this—it’s probably the weirdest and most memorable. The woman killed by gold paint, then her sister killed by Oddjob’s bowler hat (I was probably not the only one to wonder about the third Masterson sister). The best gadgets of any of the movies are in the coolest of his cars, that Aston Martin—which Bond almost immediately totals. Then it gets messy. There are theories (mostly mine) that everything after “No, Mr. Bond. I want you to die!” is a dream. That comes at exactly the half-way point in the movie. It’s the dream he has right before he dies. He “wakes up”—looking at the blurry face of Pussy Galore. From then on, it’s pure comic book, no basis in reality. Hanging out, sipping mint julips, Goldfinger’s meeting with the stereotypical gangsters, including the one who has a “pressing engagement” with a car recycler. And especially, how the entire plot turns on Bond raping Pussy in the hayloft—after which she’s both MI6 and heterosexual. In spite of all that, the pleasure of hearing Sean Connery pronounce the name “Pussy” is undeniable. And the villain electrocutions that bookend the action are pretty sweet. And last, but most emotionally scarring, the postscript with Goldfinger getting sucked out of the airplane window—because that’s the first time I was aware of that kind of high-altitude danger—and just the fact that Goldfinger went through that little porthole that was ten times too small for his body.
Number 3: Dr. No (1962) They could have just stopped after this movie—but you can’t blame them for remaking it twenty-some times when us idiots keep watching. But everything you want in a 007 movie is here, except for the mini-movie before pop music title song. The introduction to Bond at the card table is one of the best—if there is an ultimate standard for looking cool while wearing a tux and lighting a cigarette, this is it. The character, “James Bond,” never looks better than in this movie—even Sean Connery’s eyebrows are scary. I really like the limited budget and simplicity of this one, yet it feels big. Felix Leiter is played by Jack Lord! Those sunglasses! Quarrel (John Kitzmiller), who the dragon flamethrower kills, sets the standard for emotionally manipulating us by killing the most likable character. And the funniest bit, of course, is that Bond hooks up with a woman who has pretty much no clothing and makes her living as a shell diver (Ursula Andress)—and just happens to be on Dr. No’s island. Of course they’re captured, and instead of being eliminated like every other intruder, they’re treated like guests of honor—after they are decontaminated for radiation—which was probably one of the more kinky movie scenes in 1962.
Number 4: You Only Live Twice (1967) Two-thirds of the way through the movie there is one of the more terrifying things I’ve seen in a Bond movie, and it’s almost silent. Bond is sleeping with his current girlfriend, a Japanese woman, who apparently has not been amply warned about him, and an assassin climbs in above the ceiling and lowers a string to Bond’s sleeping mouth and lets a slimy poison run down the string. Bond is only saved because he’s a restless sleeper—he moves, and the poison goes into her mouth—she stops breathing and dies. It’s 100 times scarier than someone getting shot—I guess because we’ve seen that 1000 times. Naturally, he’s barely phased—I’m surprised he didn’t have sex with her after she was dead and then make some quip. Bond going undercover as Japanese man is one of the more ridiculous bad ideas ever, from both a secret agent and a story perspective—but what’s weird, and oddly pleasing, is that in disguise he looks just like Marlon Brando! Also strange, there are at least three jokes about cigarettes being dangerous to your health—this must have been around that time. In spite of the usual problems, this is still one of my favorites—partly because everything looks great. The title song, sung by Nancy Sinatra, has some pretty convoluted lyrics, and is one of my favorites.
Number 5: From Russia with Love (1963) This is the first James Bond movie I had any memory of—watching it at a movie theater—but since it came out in 1963, when I was only three—I’m not sure they didn’t rerelease some of these movies in later years—because I’m not sure I would have such vivid movie memories at that age. Though I can’t really say for sure. I don’t remember! Is it possible that my memory of parts of this movie could count as my earliest memories? Pretty much every movie has him checking into a hotel room (usually several), and this is one of the best—also, one of the things that has made me obsessed with hotels. Of course, the room is almost always bugged, or has someone hiding in it. Highpoint is the train sequence. How much did this make me want to travel by train? Especially one with all that wood, and the connecting compartments and sliding doors, it’s so cool. And it’s like a full half-hour of the movie! Bond has to stop having sex with the Russian agent, eventually, because it’s teatime. Then he as dinner with the assassin, who is posing as an Englishman—and the way he’s talking—it’s one of the most ridiculous things ever—but somehow Bond doesn’t notice, and only catches on to him because he orders red wine with fish. Ha!
Number 6: The Man with the Golden Gun (1974) For a big budget franchise, this movie got a lot of milage out of cheapest makeup effect of all-time: the third nipple (of Scaramanga, the villain)—something you might buy from a 25-cent gag vending machine. I’m sure they spent more, but how impressive can a man’s nipple be? Then to make a big deal out of it—like, it means what? I guess since no one has seen him, that third nipple is the only way he can be identified, and it apparently occurs to no one that anyone with a Spencer Gifts in their mall can impersonate him. Equally as cheap is his famous golden gun. (I remember seeing it when it came out, thinking it must be some fantastic gun!—and what a letdown!) It’s like a gun a grade school kid might make out of stuff in the garage, a wood block, an old pipe, spray-painted gold. On the other hand, Christopher Lee, who plays, Scaramanga, is so suave, he exposes Bond for the cheap stooge he is. His henchman, played by Hervé Villechaize, is effective, diabolical, and very funny. The best henchmen (who are not always men) don’t have to be eight feet tall and walk thru walls. Also, they’ve got a funhouse built into their hideout, which is something I would do if I could. The big car chase stars the awesome AMC Hornet and AMC Matador—which is as much love as those cars ever got—at least until Frankie Latina filmed a car chase with a Matador and a Pacer. The early scenes are in Hong Kong, which looks great. And the MI6 field headquarters is hidden in the half-sunk Queen Mary in Hong Kong harbor, which is leaning over at a 45-degree angle, so the interior is all slanted like a villain hideout in the Batman TV show.
Number 7: Thunderball (1965) Opens with a coffin that says “JB”—a joke in keeping with my theory of the demise of Bond in Goldfinger. But it belongs to a bad guy, with the same initials, who is not dead—yet. The Tom Jones title song is great—especially if you don’t listen too closely to the lyrics. This is the Bond underwater movie, or the first one, anyway. The entire movie is underwater! Not really, but it feels like it, by the end. By far the best part of the movie is the first half-hour or so, when Bond is at a spa recuperating, which means, of course, it’s like a sex-vacation for him—but it also happens to be where SPECTRE’s latest, biggest scheme is being initiated—which is shown in great detail, and pretty cool, especially for a 5-year-old, when I first saw this at a theater. Also, Vargas (Philip Locke), the henchman who gets spear-gunned—if ever there was a character dying for a prequel, it’s Vargas!
Number 8: Live and Let Die (1973) The New York City and Harlem stuff is pretty good—it’s got a gritty Seventies movie feel. It was kind of inspired to try to meld Blaxploitation and British spy genres and see what happens. Problematic, but it has its moments—it makes fun of both—but of course it’s ultimately a James Bond movie. What wasn’t inspired was to mash-in the hillbilly car chase genre, as well. The movie survives that—just barely. Yaphet Kotto is great, over-the-top, multiple meltdowns—when he pulls off his “Mr. Big” makeup in a rage—ha! Also, the henchman with the crusher hand, Tee Hee (Julius W. Harris) is right up there. And this was the first time most of us saw Jane Seymour—there were a lot of 13-year-old boys with a crush on her. Her character’s psychic powers and are apparently real, which makes it absurd that Bond gets away with his frat-house-prank trick card deck, in order to seduce her. The gator farm is probably the best thing in the movie—it’s actually pretty gnarly, but Bond escaping by hopping across their backs is one of the most lame escapes I’ve ever seen. Maybe my favorite scene is the opening one, after the credits. I can’t remember if there is another Bond movie (besides maybe one of the recent ones) where we see his home… we get a good look here. It looks a lot like Banacek’s place (a TV show that came out at about the same time as this movie, that owes a bit to 007). His decorator is a bit stodgy, but I like how he’s got a couple of internal windows with venetian blinds, one leading to his kitchen. He makes M a cup of coffee—he’s got a grinder and some kind of espresso setup—this must have been one of the moments that got the early coffee nuts motivated. Another thing you notice is that there are three separate liquor setups, including one in the kitchen—and one by his TV! There may be another in the bedroom (likely), and for all we know, in the bathroom, as well—which we unfortunately don’t see.
Number 9: A View to a Kill (1985) A lot of this movie is just plain silly, but I like that Roger Moore is older, almost looks like he’s just barely getting by, and especially the scenes at the stables with him in disguise as “James St. John Smythe” (“Sin-Jin Smythe”)—really funny. Grace Jones is a great hench-person, because she’s Grace Jones—she looks great, and ultimately pulls Bond’s ass out of the fire. A lot of what’s written for the Zorin character wavers between bad-boss crankiness and flat-out psycho (laughing while machinegunning people), and for most actors it would be an annoying character. Christopher Walken, however, adds these subtleties that only he can pull off (it’s often hard to even figure out what he’s doing, and it’s rare to find subtlety in a James Bond movie), so the scenes with him just jump out of the movie—and you can watch them over and over. The way he says (to Grace Jones, in the speedboat): “So?” It’s hard to explain why that’s so good—you just have to appreciate it. Obviously, I’m a big fan of Walken. Also, he’s got a pretty awesome dirigible, with a funhouse exit. The title song, by Duran Duran, is one of the best, too.
Number 10: Casino Royale (2006) Le Chiffre is among the most pathetic of villains. Bond could have just FedExed him a pair of shoelaces and let him take care of himself. Most of us could not stand up to torture—just mention “dental tools” and I’m spilling the beans. But you know that getting his balls pounded on by a knotted rope isn’t going to make Bond give up the password (clue: it’s the name of his cat!), so that scene just put me off a little bit when I first saw it. I have, since, however, got the joke. (I’m a little slow, I guess.) You know, that the “torture” merely inspired Bond to achieve an erection. Ha! The odd thing is, I didn’t really come around to this movie until I saw Quantum of Solace, which is essentially the second half of this one. Now I like it, in spite of its depressive tone, overly long action bits, and top billing of a cellphone that was outdated before they finished editing. I love that the card game is like half the movie! And the part where Bond gets poisoned is my favorite action sequence in any action movie, ever. Not only is Vesper a multidimensional character, she remembered the part of her CPR class where they stress making sure the AED leads don’t get disconnected! If only Bond could have returned the favor—but he was no doubt jerking off during his lifesaving classes as a lad.
Number 11: Octopussy (1983) What’s James Bond’s favorite tree? Pussy Willow! If Joe Don Baker would have been cast in this movie, who would he have played? Bufford Pussy! Since Bond never seems to be at home, does he have a “Pussy Sitter?” You kind of want them to just go for it—name a movie Octopussy and then not spend unconvincing screen-time trying to make is seem like there’s a logical reason to do so. On paper, this movie should be unwatchable, yet it turns out to be one of my favorites, despite the usual dumb shit it has going against it. Maud Adams is compelling as the title character (anything you can do after getting saddled with that name is impressive). Louis Jourdan is a badass, and he makes the most of his not having to do much to be scary. The opening credits song, “All Time High,” sung by Rita Coolidge, is a good one. The best thing, though, is the circus connection—James Bond disguising himself as a clown—it’s one of my favorite-ever Bond twists. It even makes the obligatory nuclear device defusing worthy of a few countdown seconds of gnarly clown-sweat.
Number 12: Never Say Never Again (1983) Two Bond films from 1983 (because of this, “non-official” one) which I think caused a cosmic break in popular culture which we’ve never recovered from. Since this one can’t use the title sequence or Bond music, yet starred Sean Connery, and is a remake of Thunderball—it makes you feel a bit like you’re on drugs in a parallel universe. The director is Irvin Kershner, who made A Fine Madness (1966), one of finest nutjob flicks (Sean Connery as an asshole poet) I’m embarrassed to be a fan of. This isn’t quite that madcap, and with its sleazy, soft-porn style and aging Bond, this should be an utter disaster—yet it’s surprisingly watchable, helped along by Kim Basinger, who is Kim Basinger, and Klaus Maria Brandauer as the villain—this was around the time when he was in every movie. You might have to be older to remember that. He is really good, one of the great slime-villains. If the sweater tied around the neck style ever comes back, here’s your man!
Number 13: Diamonds Are Forever (1971) The title song, sung by Shirley Bassey, is top-five. By any standards a weird movie, it feels like five or six parallel stories with tenuous connections. Almost in the forefront is the hitman team, Mr. Wint and Mr. Kidd—I believe when I saw this in the theater, I thought they were Steely Dan—and the one guy is a bass player (the other is Bruce Glover)—they have so much screen-time, you’re wondering of you accidently walked into an offense Bond villain spin-off. It is awesome, at least, when the dude catches on fire with the flaming shish kabobs. Then there’s Jill St. John—same thing—it’s like they intercut the Tiffany Case sit-com with a Bond movie. Rather than evoke Howard Hughes, it would have been better if Jimmy Dean had just played the sausage king version of Jimmy Dean. And poor, poor Plenty O’Toole. The fight in the slow elevator is one of the funniest 007 fights, but I’m afraid most of the comedy isn’t up to that moment, and this movie is kind of the turning point where James Bond movies became comedies—which continued throughout the Roger Moore era. Still, it’s a fun, oddball time capsule—some of it looks like old postcards, particularly the Las Vegas Strip, McCarran airport, and The Elrod House, in Palm Springs.
Number 14: Quantum of Solace (2008) The best thing about this one is that it’s actually the second half of Casino Royale (2006), so it’s like you came back from intermission. I, for one, could easily imagine being in line to pee for two years. And then, first thing, M’s bodyguard shoots her. She’s got some really funny lines—Judi Dench is great. As bad as this movie is, I kind of like it for a few things. The meeting of all the rich sleazebags at the opera is hilarious. The villain, played by Mathiew Amalric, is believable (who has had this guy for a boss?) and really, really gross. Forget all your evil acronyms—every time you hear “Greene Planet”—the greed behind the philanthropic lie is evil that we all know. The parallel story with the kickass woman, played by Olga Kurylenko is a sad revenge saga, but one you can get behind. The way-too-few Jeffrey Wright/Leiter scenes are intriguing—it almost feels like he hacked into the story, somehow. Ultimately, this movie actually made me like Casino Royale more than I had originally—which makes sense—seeing how it’s, you know, the second half—but in keeping with the usual Bond movie syndrome, the first halves are always better than the seconds halves.
Number 15: License to Kill (1989) The second Timothy Dalton—a pretty entertaining, nutso movie—it starts out with Felix Leiter’s (David Hedison) wedding, after which he’s fed to a shark. He survives, with missing limbs, but his wife is killed. Bond must feel that not only women he’s involved with are doomed, but now even being a best man is lethal. Which compels him to go on a rampage, for which he gets into trouble, and gives zero fucks, as usual. On the way, plenty of fun situations—high point is the Hemingway Home cats and other Florida locations. Also, appearances by a lot of good characters, including Robert Davi, Carey Lowell, Anthony Zerbe, Frank McRae, Benicio del Toro, and Wayne Newton, among others. As with everything else of the era, it looks like shit and feels like trash—much as all of middle-era Bond—which has its own charm, I guess.
Number 16: The World is Not Enough (1999) Even though this one is pretty lame throughout (especially the computer stuff, some of Bond’s lack of wit, and the usual boring explosions), I like how grim the overall tone is, and how Bond (Pierce Brosnan) seems out of his element. And the best thing about this story is that I really wanted to believe the Elektra King character (Sophie Marceau)—and actually felt a sense of betrayal that she was brainwashed and a villain. That’s just good drama. Also, the ex-KGB guy (Robert Carlyle), who can’t feel pain, is a barrel of laughs. And Denise Richards is a nuclear physicist who is as fearless as the villains, and pretty much out-performs Bond, even though she has a dumb name, which I’ve forgotten, and am not even going to bother to look up.
Number 17: The Living Daylights (1987) I was probably put off by this new James Bond in 1987 when I saw it at the theater, but after 33 years or so, it’s kind of nice to see it again and not remember much. Timothy Dalton is likeable, he’s suave and good-looking, and the story is a twisty international tale of intrigue and double-crosses involving lots of characters, countries, organizations, drugs, arms, and lots of secrets. There’s nothing particularly bizarre or insane, which is a bit of a letdown, but in a way it’s a relief that the primary woman character isn’t immediately killed and is quite courageous. It’s also a relief that they put a lid on the bad comedy, particularly really dumb secondary characters (no rednecks with ungodly wads of chewing tobacco!). I mean, there are plenty of over-the-top action scenes, but nothing that makes you pee your pants. However, as with stuff that’s most notable for what it’s not—well, there’s a word for that: boring.
Number 18: Die Another Day (2002) Pretty much every aspect of this one is over the top—I’m not going to list examples, because then I’d have to watch it one more time, and it already feels like visiting multiple relatives on Thanksgiving and eating the full meal each at each one. I wonder if it has to do with post-9/11-numbness? At any rate, it would have been a better movie if half of the cartoonish stuff was cut out—or—if they just went all out in the other direction—robots, a time machine, hideout at the Earth’s core, dragons, ghosts, Godzilla, maybe superheroes from floating islands in space and a subterranean vault of inexplicable essence.
Number 19: Skyfall (2012) The best thing about this one is Javier Bardem as the villain, though with that blond hair he looks like he was digitally Frankensteined with Val Kilmer. It’s even more creepy than his No Country for Old Men wig. The next best thing is that Judi Dench takes over as the star. Generally, I don’t like it when the supporting roles get too big, as with other cases I’ve mentioned, but her version of M is more than just an uptight boss. But she’s killed, and sure it’s sad, but the movie acts like she’s the only person in Bond’s orbit who has ever died—when pretty much half the people he comes into contact with—waiters, clerks, chauffeurs, and an alarming number of women he fraternizes with—meet with untimely, horrible deaths. But for once we’re spared the wisecrack.
Number 20: Moonraker (1979) According to my memory, this was the film where the entire enterprise took a nosedive into the toilet. It figures that I’d remember it that way, since it was 1979, and around that time I became disillusioned with popular culture—especially movies. Not for me. It was all old books, punk rock, and beer. Watching this again, though—it’s more fun than I remember. The space station is pretty cool. And I think I wanted Drax to be James Mason (I want everyone to be James Mason), but that Michael Lonsdale is fine. The movie is still bad, though, in part because it became all about Jaws; James Bond became a supporting character. I love Richard Kiel, and he had an amazing career, but this villain is all bad comedy. It didn’t help that this followed Jaws, the movie, which I hated (because sharks are not scary, they’re fish—and I didn’t realize until years later it was actually a comedy about child abuse and alcoholism). I just wanted my James Bond movies to be James Bond movies, not The Three Stooges Go to Mars.
Number 21: For Your Eyes Only (1981) The most interesting thing about this movie is that it’s in the exact middle of the timeline (at this point) of Bond films, and also that there’s nothing particularly memorable, exciting, or totally heinous about it. Especially poignant to me is the year, 1981, since that’s when I turned 21, and it was an eventful year—pretty much a turning point. I’m sure I saw this movie at the theater, but I don’t remember where I saw it, or anything about it at all from that time. I must have thought that it was likely the last James Bond 007 movie. The franchise had more than run its course. It was over. Bond was through. I didn’t so much predict that, as feel it, and know it. I guess that’s why they don’t pay me the big money for my lack of expertise and absence of vision! But if you look at it another way, relative to the general decline of popular culture, since then, Bond hasn’t done so badly.
Number 22: Tomorrow Never Dies (1997) Sadly, it’s hard to find anything good about this movie, other than the cast, which includes Michelle Yeoh (better than in Squatting Tiger, Hidden Turd), Vincent Schiavelli (world’s most character-actor-looking character actor) and Ricky Jay, whose is the last person you’d expect to be cast as a cyber-nerd—and gets to do basically nothing. I would have paid money to see him—the author of “Cards As Weapons”—kill Bond with a thrown playing card and just end the movie. The white-crewcut henchman who looks like he escaped from a new-wave band is just annoying, though. As is the Jonathan Pryce character, even though I normally like Jonathan Pryce. He’s 100 times scarier in Listen Up Philip.
Number 23: GoldenEye (1995) This is a really odd movie—it has an unpleasant, convoluted structure and feels like it’s about eight hours long. Maybe it is. It’s like six movies in one. The MI6 guy who turns bad, and the rat-faced Russian general, and the really annoying computer hacker with the prop, round glasses that he never looks through. The hero is the Russian computer woman (Izabella Scorupco) who survives everything but dinosaurs and poltergeists just to get thrown into scenes with Pierce Brosnan that look like romance novel cover shoots. Most annoying, though, is the softcore S&M stuff with Famke Janssen. Though, I admit, she also has the best moment in the movie—when the villains are on an armored Wild Wild West-style train, and Bond comes at them with, naturally, a tank—which seems to sexually excite her—and she says, “He will derail us!”
Number 24: Spectre (2015) By far the best part of this movie is the continuous take, extended tracking shot, right at the beginning, in crowded Mexico City festival streets. But that only serves to remind you how annoying editing is. As usual, shots are way too short, and there are way too many cuts. It reminds you that editing is a crutch used to assemble not very well thought out or believable action—and as prevalent and overdone as it is, it’s not even done well. Opening with that excellent continuous take shot—it’s like a model for life itself—at some point, most people get a glimpse of magic, before having the rug pulled out from under them. Oh, well. And then, the rest of the movie is like a moving three-hour catalog of annoying men’s douchebag fashion.
Number 25: The Spy Who Loved Me (1977) The best thing about this one is the ambitious, but ultimately misguided, attempt to refashion the franchise into romantic comedy—meaning, there’s nothing good about it. A lot of world-under-the-sea bits, which should be a lot better, given the budget. Actually, the best thing about the movie is the excellent title song, “Nobody Does It Better,” sung by Carly Simon.
Number 26: No Time to Die (2021) It has been some time since I watched the movie, and since I was barely able to hold back the vomit the first time, I’ll opt out of rewatching it to get my facts straight. I remember being engaged for a while, but at some point, became overwhelmed by the convoluted nanobot nonsense, endless, boring, action scenes, and unforgivable sentimentality. If it really was the last James Bond movie, I could almost forgive an edited-down-to-90-minutes-version as a teary goodbye. But, of course, it’s not the last. The only fun part was springing the new 007 (since Bond has retired), played by Lashana Lynch, giving us some good scenes reflecting that universal (jobs, relationships, nations) in-with-the-new/out-with-the-old theme. Maybe it’s my problem, and not the movie’s, but I can no longer watch shootouts, car chases, and movies that start out promising and degenerate into bloated, failed attempts to mean something. But people are dumb, and maybe what people want is shootouts and car chases. But if you must have them, how about, at least, shootouts and car chases that don’t look like all the other shootouts and car chases we see in every movie? And what happened to, instead of giving people what they want, introducing them to what they didn’t know they wanted? (Now I’m being ridiculous.) I could just stop going (to every new Bond movie), but it’s the one franchise I feel locked into from birth, so instead I’ll engage in the fantasy sport of: “What would you do if your name was Broccoli?” I’ll add my 2 cents! What if we limited each movie to a low, B-movie budget (whatever that is these days), requiring the leads to work for scale (they’re always better that way), and with a new James Bond 007 for each movie? And a different director for each movie, allowed full license to try whatever hell approach they want. One new movie per year, released on Christmas Day. To me, that sounds fun.
Number 27: Casino Royale (1967) It’s a minor miracle to make a movie this unwatchable. If you took, say, a dozen of the top-billed actors (David Niven, Jacqueline Bisset, John Huston, Woody Allen, Deborah Kerr, Ursula Andress, Charles Boyer, George Raft, William Holden, Peter Sellers, Orson Welles, and John-Paul Belmondo!) and filmed a 10-minute segment of each of them frying an egg in their home kitchen, you’d not only have a better movie, but guaranteed, a great movie. I’d see that movie. To take those same people and somehow create something unwatchable is a feat that should be reckoned with, like, say, the atomic bomb—but the less I have to do with it, the better.
—Randy Russell 11.27.22
Original James Bond Marathon INTRO – from 2021:
Vodka Brocco-tini with a Twist: James Bond 007 Movies Ranked!
Depending on who you are, James Bond movies could be considered a guilty pleasure, in that they are low-quality big-budget entertainments with very little value as art or contribution to culture. They’re crude, violent, gratuitous, sexist, misogynistic, racist, xenophobic, uninformed, clueless, unsophisticated, boorish, boring, overly long and bloated, and become dated almost instantly. They try to be both comic and dramatic and rarely work as either. And yet, we (some of us) love them—I suppose in the way we love Twinkies, Christmas, heavy drinking, and sports involving car crashes and head injuries. We’re human, I guess.
My personal fascination has to do with franchise mirroring my entire life—as we were born at roughly the same time—and we grew up together, mired in fear of nuclear holocaust, the Cold War, the USSR, the counterculture, assassinations, terrorists, strongmen, strong women, and growing old. Also, our love of gadgets, cool shit, and the British way of speaking. But this isn’t just a British franchise—it’s an American thing. That “license to kill” that’s granted to a handful of MI6 agents? In the USA, 300 million people have the license to kill. The James Bond character is really an American white male archetype, overly privileged, won’t listen to his boss, wounded romantically so he merely uses women. Essentially, Bond is depressed, psychotic, a heavy smoker (early versions), an alcoholic, a sex addict, and a gambling addict. But he’s smart (except when it comes to mixology) and can think on his feet. The quality that makes (some of us) want to watch him, is the way he can get into a jam and then turn a disposable lighter and a can Aqua Net into a blowtorch.
The fun of “ranking” these movies is that they each have so many contradictory elements—so nobody remotely agrees on the best and worst. It’s amazing, really, that the franchise has lasted, and so many were made. They are essentially each a “remake” rather than a series—each one tries (and fails) to improve on the ideal version of “James Bond.” Each movie pretty much starts with Bond being fired, “going rogue,” using a woman (who is then killed) to get close to the villain, walking into the situation like an idiot, blowing everything up, disarming a nuclear device, saving the world, and getting together with another woman. The tiny variations and outrageously misguided folly are what make them what they are. There’s plenty that’s atrocious with these movies—that goes without saying—so I ranked them from best to worst—and try to focus on what’s cool about each one.
—Randy Russell 2.6.21
