007 Things James Bond Has Done Stupider than Being a Woman or Black

As usual, fandom is up in arms about some bullshit. This time it’s a rumor that James Bond will be passing his license to kill to actress Lashana Lynch in No Time to Die, the next entry of the long-running franchise. This would of course make Lynch both the first black 007 and the first female 007. Personally, I think Lynch has the swagger and badassery to be a great 007 but others have lambasted this as a betrayal of the character. A recent poll has revealed that three out of four people do not want a female 007.

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For me, making Lashana Lynch a new 007 but not a new James Bond is a clever way of keeping the character of James Bond who he is, but freeing up the narrative to make 007 who she is. As a life-long Bond fanatic, I’m curious to see them try something new and confident that the world will keep turning if it doesn’t work out. First of all, making Lashana Lynch 007 isn’t “crazy.” And even it it were, there are plenty of times the Bond franchise has done things “crazier” than handing over the 00 designation to someone who doesn’t resemble the previous person to hold the title. Here’s my list of the Seven things Double-O-Seven has done that are stupider than being a black woman:

001 Become Japanese

That’s right, this wouldn’t be the first time 007 has changed races. Only instead of a reasonable explanation like James Bond retiring and passing the baton to a black woman, they like literally gave him a racial makeover in 1969’s You Only Live Twice. That’s right, in order to help him go undercover as a local fisherman, James Bond is given some sort of race transplant to turn him Japanese. For some reason, the procedure is also carried out by a bunch of hot, giggling girls in bikinis just to make it more James Bondy. Ultimately, turning Japanese just means putting James Bond in Spock makeup. Although the race operation is seemingly a painstaking process, it is magically reversed between shots later in the movie, making this plot point far stupider than having 007 be a black woman.

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002 Be a Fucking Clown

At a certain point in the early-eighties, James Bond became so goddamned stupid that they gave him literal clown shoes and a red nose in the movie Octopussy. In a getup that would make even the Joker and Harley Quinn blush, James Bond enters a circus arena and defuses a nuclear weapon dressed like Bozo the Clown, Ronald McDonald and Pennywise the Dancing clown had a conference call to decide what to wear that day. However they handle the passing of the baton in the new Bond flick, I can guarantee it cannot be any stupider than James Bond literally running off to join the circus.

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003 Invent Snowboarding

By the time Roger Moore got to his last Bond movie, they had to up the ante on stupid. So in the opening sequence, James Bond turns part of a snowmobile into a snowboard and cowabungas down a Siberian mountain to escape the Ruskies while a shitty synthesizer cover of California Girls blasts in the background. Wow, so fucking stupid.

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004 Surf into North Korea

The last of Pierce Brosnan’s movies, Die Another Day, is chock-filled with shit stupider than being a black woman. In the very first scene, James Bond infiltrates the most reclusive and secretive nation on the planet, a place almost completely cut off from outside influence, literally called “Hidden Kingdom.” Does he parachute in or dig an underground tunnel? No, he fucking surfs right across the 38th Parallel. If Douglas MacArthur tried that, the Korean conflict would definitely not be the “forgotten war.” Hell, even Dennis Rodman wouldn’t try a stunt this stupid. At least they didn’t play a Beach Boys song, that would make it almost as stupid as a later scene in the movie where James Bond gets a chance to…

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005 Be Invisible

Yes, the stupidity of Die Another Day subsides a bit after the surf opening and manages to be a regular movie for a while, even during the Madonna part. But it all goes down hill when the Ministry of Silly Walks from Monty Python shows up and gives Bond a car that makes him invisible. Yes, James Bond gets a gas-powered version of the Harry Potter Cloak of Invisibility. Yeah, I know that the military is developing versions of cloak technology but this was back in 2002, and even the Klingons didn’t have shit that literally made you invisible. Some assholes may think having a black woman as 007 is crazy, but I’m sure we’ll at least be able to see her.

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006 Throw his Peepee at Someone

So the canonicity of Never Say Never is disputed since may consider this to be an “unofficial” James Bond. But as far as I’m concerned, if James Bond is in a movie — especially if Sean Connery is playing him — it’s official. And in this movie, James Bond takes a jar of his own piss and throws it at a guy. For some reason it burns the guys eyes so badly that he falls into a bunch of glass and dies. I haven’t had a lot of urine tossed at me, but I don’t think that’s how it works. I do know that when we finally get a black woman as James Bond, she won’t be drowning her adversaries in piss.

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007 Not Be British

As crazy as it sounds, there has been casting drama around James Bond movies since the first 007 was announced over fifty years ago. Yes, even Sean Connery, widely-regarded as the quintessential James Bond, was controversial pick. Bond purists complained that Connery was Scottish so he couldn’t possibly be a British spy! Fortunately, Ian Fleming retconned Bond’s ancestry in a later 007 novel to give him Scottish roots, putting that furor to bed.

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But even the next James Bond wasn’t British, he was Australian. In fact, it would take over a decade of James Bond movies to finally get a British 007, and he was the guy who literally dressed up like a clown! After Roger Moore, it took another twenty years to get a British James Bond again. Timothy Dalton was born in North Wales. His pops was a Brit but Mom was an American with Italian and Irish roots. I love the Dalt but that’s hardly heraldry to write home about. What about Pierce Brosnan? Well turns out he was born in Ireland and is now a naturalized American citizen. And even when they finally got another British 007 in the form of Daniel Craig, there was still an outcry because — GASP — he was blond! So that means that only a paltry 1/3 of 007s up until now have been British. But guess who is British? Lashana Lynch. She was born and raised right in jolly old London, making her about as British as tea and crumpets or whatever. That’s right, as “crazy” as it sounds making a black woman the new 007, she is actually more qualified to be a British spy than the vast majority of actors who have taken up the designation. And I can tell you one thing, however No Time to Die turns out, Lashana Lynch will not be an invisible, piss-tossing, snowboarding clown in Asian face.

Still Not George Lazenby

Ten years ago, in the still nascent days of celebrity social media presence, there were no such things as verified accounts. There were no check-marks or official pages to verify who was actually a real person of note and who was trying to use someone’s name for their own vanity or self-promotion. Social media presences were something associated with younger talents, as baby boomers had not invaded Facebook as of yet. It was also a time of relative innocence regarding social media and people were more willing to let themselves be cat-fished be those pretending to be someone else. It was during this period that I accidentally, but not quite innocently become a perpetrator of such a cat-fish. This is the story of how I finally got my comeuppance a decade later. It all started as a joke.

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As a long time James Bond aficionado and the writer/star of the greatest play of all time, Nobody Does it Better: The James Bond Musical, I consider myself to be a master of 007 trivia. It was because of my hubris that I became involved in a petty squabble with a dude from Britain about piece of minutiae regarding the oft-overlooked Bond entry On Her Majesty’s Secret Service.  The 1969 film, which starred then-unknown Australian model George Lazenby as the intrepid secret agent is the only time a James Bond actor in an official Bond film has played the part only once. Long regarded as the black sheep of the Bond canon, the film’s reputation has improved drastically as of late, with some hard-core Bond fans even considering it the best of the series. It’s certainly the entry truest to its literary inspiration and has a lean, hard-nosed quality that the series would not fully embrace again until the Daniel Craig era. Since the film is so good and yet such an aberration in the classic Bond canon, there is a bittersweet quality to the film that has haunted me for years. What if Lazenby hadn’t mucked up this opportunity? What if the producers had stayed with this badass interpretation of the character rather than delve into the over-the-top campiness that defined the next two decades of Bondom? As someone who has made stupid decisions and squandered chances to do some great things at key moments in my life, the legend of George Lazenby was a cautionary tale for me. It served as a hard reminder of roads not taken.

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Anyway, back to the squabble. While perusing Facebook, I came across a trivia quiz about the film that claimed to be difficult. I scoffed and clicked on the quiz, confident that I would ace it. Indeed I got every question correct except for one, which asked for the hometown of side character Ruby Bartlett, with whom Lazenby’s Bond enjoys a brief dalliance midway through the film. An easy question, Ruby Bartlett is from Lancashire. Or so I thought. My answer was marked as incorrect, sullying an otherwise perfect score. I was blindsided and offended and decided to send a nasty message to the guy who created the quiz. In retrospect, I realize what a toxic dick I was being when I wrote:

“Ruby Bartlett is from Lancishire dumbnutz!!”

The response was stinging.

“She’s from MORECAMBE which is IN Lancashire (correct spelling). Now, what’s that Yank expression, oh yes…dumbass.”

So although technically correct, my response was not specific enough for this British (maybe Australian?) trivia wonk. He had me. I was bested. Again, I’m embarrassed by what an immature jerk I was at the time and now regret what I did next.

I created a Facebook account for George Lazenby. Not a fan page. An account. For the express purpose of being an asshole to this guy. These days such an account would get shut down immediately and certainly wouldn’t fool most people. But ten years ago it was uncharted territory. With everything setup, I sent a message from Mr. Lazenby with this subject line. Great Quiz!

I imagine how I would feel when I saw that message come in from George Lazenby. I would be elated, being recognized by the George Lazenby for my incredible quizmaking prowess. Of course it was a feint, a trick. The body of the message read as such:

Not. You are a supreme bag of douche. As someone who fucked both Ruby Bartlett AND your mom let me say: Suck my Octoballs Thunderpussy!

Sincerely,
George

Now I imagine how I would feel after quickly realizing it was not from George Lazenby and was in fact a very mean-spirited prank. Again, as a more mature and professional person I am now very embarrassed about my behavior and if the guy who made that quiz is by some improbable chance reading this, I apologize. We’re both fans of James Bond and I should have been a good sport about you besting me with a trick question.

But at the time I had a good laugh and moved on with my life, forgetting I had created this fake page. But then something strange happened. At about this time I made a post about the experience with the title I am (Not) George Lazenby. Here’s an excerpt:

Out of the blue, people started friend requesting me…I mean George. So I accepted. I figured people realized this was a joke and wanted in on the fun. And then they started messaging me, telling me what an honor it was to be friends with the George Lazenby.

The fans poured their hearts out about what an impact George’s performance had on them, and how much they admired him. I responded to each message with a pleasant, but patronizing “Thanks, mate.” I was so freaked out by this outpouring of love for George Lazenby that it took me about two hours to compose that stupid message. I debated for a good forty-five minutes over whether the “mate” was too Australian or just Australian enough.

And then I had my first scare. One of my…er…George’s friends sent a message about coming to a book signing to meet me…er…George. I freaked out. What happens if this guy starts babbling about Facebook at the signing and George is like “I don’t have a Facebook account, mate!” and then Scotland Yard hunts me down and I get extradited to England and sent to the Tower of London for identity fraud? I’d be the black sheep of Bondage! No self-respecting Bond fan would even play a round of GoldenEye64 with me!

Then the guy messaged me to tell me that it was an honor to meet me…uh…George, and that he was sad we didn’t get a chance to talk. Phew. Talk about a close one. My Facebook fraud had brushed against reality and no one knew but me. And then I started thinking, do these people really think I’m George Lazenby?

Maybe my Facebook George was like Santa. Even though all signs point to bullshit, people still want to believe. Was I doing my fellow Bond fans a great service, or was I playing them for fools? I couldn’t decide. Every time George made a new friend, or someone sent him a heartwarming message, I considered shutting down my account. But I couldn’t bring myself to it. People wanted to shower George Lazenby with love and admiration, and who was I to stop them?

And then the real George was in the news. Divorce. A nasty one. The support came rushing in. People from all over the world were offering their kindest thoughts and messages of hope. Our friend from the book signing sent the longest and most thoughtful. He told of his own personal experience going through a divorce, and the wounds it had caused. He opened his heart and soul to George Lazenby. It was the most wonderful letter I’d ever received, and I felt like a sneaky little bastard reading it. I only wished that I could some how deliver it to George, and erase my memory of it. I’m sorry George. And my sincerest apologies to the loyal friend you don’t know you have.

For most of my early twenties this story was a regular hit at cocktail parties or during discussions with fellow Bond fans. Eventually I came to the decision that it was not ethical to maintain this account. I created an email account with a random name I’d never remember and associated the Facebook account with it. I created an extremely long automatically generated password I would also never remember and let go of it all. There was no way I’d every be able to get back into the account. I deleted the blog post excerpted above and never told the story again. Until what happened last night.

As part if its Throwback Thursdays programming the North Hollywood Laemmle was exhibited one-night only screenings of one 007 film for every one of the pre-Daniel Craig Bonds. Since Lazenby was only in OHMSS that was obviously the one they would screen. But there was an added perk. Lazenby would be there for a Q&A! I wrangled my entire family to go see the movie with me as sort of a pre-birthday celebration.

Living in New York and Los Angeles I’ve had a few conversations with public figures of about the same level of “celebrity” as Lazenby. I have a general set of rules for these encounters: Don’t act weird, never ask for an autograph and for heaven’s sake no selfies. There’s a strange relationship between the general public and public figures. We all have a personal relationship with them, but they don’t have a personal relationship with any of us. It’s a dynamic we should all respect. In terms of autographs, that has for better or for worse become an industry. Human leeches stalk celebrities, camp out at airports with stacks of 8x10s, get as many signatures as they can and then auction them off on eBay. Gross. Most celebrities know about this and unless they are at an event that is an official signing, they feel taken advantage of when people ask them for autographs because they are profiting off of them with no compensation.

In terms of Q&As, these are generally not signings or meet and greets. The celeb usually hangs out backstage with their handlers, comes out for the session and then exits through the back. I figured this was how George would roll. But just in case I had a chance to talk to him, I brought a couple pieces of memorabilia, including a copy of the Playboy magazine that Bond reads in the flick. It’s a fun gag  in the movie because Bond stories have often been published in Playboy and Bond himself is a literal playboy. If I had a chance to get him to sign it I might ask, but mostly I  just thought it would be fun to say “Hey remember this? Cool right?” Like I said before, I didn’t think I’d have a chance to meet him anyway.

Imagine my surprise when I walked into the lobby and saw George chatting with fans and taking pictures. He seemed pretty chill and open to talking to fans. When I got into the theater George sat down in the front row. I was still wary about talking to him. I didn’t want to embarrass myself. But I figured what the heck, he seems pretty down-to-Earth. So I strolled up with the Playboy in hand and introduced myself. He politely said hello and shook my hand. I sensed things were cool so I showed him the magazine.

“Remember this?”

He starred at me flatly. “No.”

“Oh, thought you might like to take a look, it’s the one from the movie.”

“Yeah I know.” Was he fucking with me?

His friend sitting next to him seemed interested so I decided I pulled out a copy of the novel On Her Majesty’s Secret Service and showed it to them. The friend said “Oh cool he’s got a copy of the book!”

And then I blurted it out. I asked George to sign it. And I immediately regretted it.

George Lazenby looked at me coldly. “No. I’m not signing anything.”

I said “Okay that’s fine. Nice to meet you!” and walked off.

I wasn’t sad that I didn’t get a signature. I didn’t feel attacked. He didn’t yell at me. I was just embarrassed. I grew up a weird nerd who was often bullied by the cool kids. Eventually I learned confidence and honestly a big part of that was fashioning my sense of style and wit on James Bond. And yet in that moment I was instantly transported back to grade school. I was just a fucking nerd. I had broke one of my celebrity sighting rules and it had blown up in my face. I was crestfallen.

As I walked back to my seat with my head down I suddenly remembered the whole affair with the trivia quiz, the George Lazenby Facebook account and my stupid, bullying behavior towards a fellow fan. This was my comeuppance. I deserved this. That’s what made it feel so bad. I wasn’t some poor downtrodden fan. I was an asshole getting bit in the ass by Karma.

I slumped in my seat. I was humiliated. I wanted to leave. My family reminded me about the whole “never meet your heroes” trope. That was even more embarrassing. George Lazenby isn’t my “hero.” If it had been Sean Connery, one of my actual heroes, I wouldn’t even have bothered talking to him. I’d respect his space and figure I’d get shot down if I tried. But Lazenby? He’s the guy that did one Bond movie that only nerds like me know about. He was just hanging out in North Hollywood talking to fans.

After a few minutes, the theater manager came up and announced there would be a trivia contest. I perked up. This was a chance to redeem myself. To make up for missing the question about Ruby Bartlett from ten years ago with Lazenby himself sitting right there in front of me. I knew every single answer of course, even winning a prize for answering a question about Telly Savalas’ reading habits. And one of the last questions was “What magazine does Bond read in the movie?”

This was my moment. I stood up in the audience and held the magazine in the air. The crowd went wild. They cheered me. I beamed with pride. I may be a nerd but I was king of the nerds. As I sat down my dad leaned forward. “Feel better Junior?” he asked. I nodded. I felt like a million bucks.

Eventually the Q&A began. As a bit of context, Lazenby has a reputation for a couple of things. He always brags about how many women he’s had sex with, complains about money and tells stories that probably aren’t true. I’ve seen him do this a couple times in interviews and documentaries. And sure enough as the questions began, he launched right into it. At first it was charming. What fun to hear a real James Bond talk about living the James Bond lifestyle. But eventually it started to outwear its welcome. He launched into a long rambling story about having sex with multiple women in a hotel room in China while his pregnant girlfriend was in his boat during the largest storm in history. We all started to feel wildly uncomfortable and grossed out. It was extra icky because I was sitting next to my mom, my sister and my wife. I looked over at them. They were disgusted. This wasn’t any fun. Lazenby capped off the story doing a racist Chinese accent and made a point to inform everyone he was not being paid for this appearance. Yeesh. Tacky. Eventually the theater manager thanked him and they rolled the picture.

Almost immediately after the movie began, I noticed George had left. I suddenly felt grateful that I had a chance to talk to him. If I had hesitated or waited, I would have missed my chance. When the picture finished and the lights came up I felt a feeling of catharsis. As I stated earlier, whenever I watch this flick I get that weird feeling of missed opportunity. I always feel bad for George and wished he hadn’t squandered his chance to be a great Bond. For the first time, I didn’t. George got his kicks and was kind of gross. He clearly didn’t embrace the character  like Roger Moore or Pierce Brosnan. He’s not a dick or a bad person and he wasn’t particularly rude to me. But for the first time, I don’t really care that he only did one James Bond flick. It actually made the movie even more special. An interesting transition between the Bond of the 60s and the Bond of the 70s. A fascinating footnote to the storied and sordid saga of cinematic Bond. But at the end of the day, the world had had enough of George Lazenby. And you know what? So have I.

See you ’round mate.

 

The James Bond Gunbarrel

Despite a variety of interpretations of James Bond both in terms of tone and style, there are certain cinematic motifs which tie together even the most diametrically opposed films in the canon. Whether it’s a hard-boiled, down-to-earth entry like From Russia With Love or a comic-book fantasy adventure like Moonraker, they all contain certain visual, thematic and musical cues which remind you that we’re playing in the same action-packed sandbox. The most obvious of these motifs is arguably the “Gunbarrel Opening” which depicts Agent 007 entering to the James Bond theme, framed by a stylized gunbarrel, then turning to the camera and firing directly at the screen which quickly spills over with blood before disappearing. The tradition first began with the 1962 film Dr. No and until Pierce Brosnan’s swan song Die Another Day was always the first shot of the film.  

The new films starring Daniel Craig shook up a lot of things about the venerable franchise, including the style and placement of the gunbarrel. The latest 007 film Spectre prides itself on honoring many of the franchise’s most cherished traditions, some of which we haven’t seen for a while thanks to Austin Powers and legal issues. While opinion varies among critics and fans as whether these references represent a return to form for the series or simply patronizing fan service, one thing is clear: It’s good to see the gun barrel return to its proper home at the beginning of the film. So before you head off to the theaters to catch Spectre, take a trip down memory lane and see how this iconic cinematic motif has evolved over the last five decades.

Bob Simmons

The original gunbarrel in Dr. No is the only in the series not to feature the actual actor playing James Bond. In this case, stunt coordinator Bob Simmons played the part. It’s remarkable how close subsequent films stayed to the format established here, the obvious exceptions being the titles which appear before the gunbarrel as well as the strange radar sound cue.

The Simmons footage was used for the next two films, From Russia with Love and Goldfinger, although the radar sound was removed as were the credits.

Sean Connery

The fourth Bond film was the first to be shot in the Panavision format, forcing the filmmakers to reshoot the gunbarrel for the first time to accommodate the new widescreen format. This time the gunbarrel actually featured Sean Connery, although his stance appears a bit wobbly, and the sequence lacks the punch of the original footage. The footage was rescored and reused for the next Bond You Only Live Twice.

Lazenby

Actor George Lazenby enjoyed a one-film stint as the legendary secret agent and while many deride his performance as amatuerish, most hard-core Bond fans know that this is one of the strongest films in the series. The gunbarrell of this film however leaves much to be desired, due to unwelcome return of the producer credits, a weird “drop to one knee” performance from Lazenby and a jarring moment when Bond continues to walk after the gunbarrel has stopped moving, the only time this will occur in the series.

The Shiny Gunbarrel

Connery returned for one more film in the official series and the Panavision footage from Thunderball was reused, although a bizarre shiny effect was used to spice up the sequence for the 1970s. It doesn’t help.

Roger Moore

When Roger Moore was cast as the third James Bond, a new gunbarrel was filmed featuring the actor. This is the first time Bond appears in the gunbarrel without a hat, demonstrating the changing style from the 1960s into the 1970s. The sequence is scored by Beatles producer George Martin, who added some disco flair to the arrangement. The footage was reused in The Man With the Golden Gun with more traditional music by John Barry.

With 1977’s The Spy Who Loved Me, the filmmakers returned to the Panavision format and the gunbarrel was reshot with Moore. The result is one of the strongest gunbarrels in the series, featuring a confident stride from Moore and a dynamic pose at the end. This footage was rescored and reused for the remaining Moore films despite the fact that the bell bottoms he wears were out of style by the time his stint as 007 ended in 1985. The Panavision Moore gunbarrel also has the distinction of being scored by the largest variety of composers, Marvin Hamlisch, John Barry and Bill Conti.

Timothy Dalton

Dalton is an oft-overlooked Bond actor but his performances his two 007 films are extremely strong, including his gunbarrel. Like his interpretation of the Bond character, his stride and pose are stark, bold and effective.

Pierce Brosnan

Brosnan’s performance in the gunbarrel sequence is one of the least energetic but it matches the actor’s ultra-cool, suave interpretation of the character. The barrel itself looks better than ever, for the first time it seems like an actual dynamic object with physical properties rather than a two-dimensional image.

The footage was rescored and reused for each of his four films but the last entry, Die Another Day added a CGI bullet zooming at the camera. Did the filmmakers think audiences didn’t understand what was happening in this sequence after 40 years?

Daniel Craig

Craig’s first Bond film was a true reboot, explaining the origin of many of Bond’s most memorable trademarks. The movie even explains the backstory of the gunbarrel itself for the first time! Turns out, the gunbarrel represents James Bond’s first kill as a secret agent. The gunbarrel itself was again redesigned and the blood was given a more three-dimensional appearance. This is the first time that the gunbarrel did not start the film and the first time it was part of the story.

Quantum of Solace’s gunbarrel is more traditional, even though it is placed at the end of the film and bleeds into the title for some reason.

Skyfall also features a gunbarrel at the end of the film rather than the beggining.

Want to see the gunbarrel finally return to its proper place at the beginning of the film? Then head out to see the newest entry in the series, Spectre.

Villians Always Take the Fall

Let’s face it, there is nothing more satisfying than watching a film’s villain fall to their death. In the history of cinema, villians have fallen off cliffs, skyscrapers, bridges, space stations, radar dishes, volcanoes and all sorts of other crazy shit. Throughout the years, falling to your death special effects have advanced significantly. In the days of Alfred Hitchcock, falling death effects were achieved with a clever mix of matte paintings, rear projection shots, dummies, and clever editing. These days chroma key technology, computer generated “digital doubles” and other technological advancements have refined movie falling death scenes to a fine art form. But with so many death falls, it’s hard to sort out the best. Here’s a special guide to

The Top 5 Bad Guy Death Falls

5. Christopher Lloyd as a Klingon in Star Trek III

Captain James T. Kirk has had a bad day. His ship is destroyed, his son is dead, and his best friends have literally lost their minds. So when Klingon Captain Christopher Llyod tries to pull him into a huge pit of lava, he has no choice but to face kick him to his death. “I…have had enough…of YOU!!!”

4. 006 in Goldeneye

Alec Trevelyn and James Bond were once best friends—good old 006 and 007. But when Alec decides to  become an evil supervillian, 007 has no choice but to drop him off a radar dish and watch him go splat.

3. Emperoror Palpatine

The evilest dude in the entire galaxy gets thrown down an elevator by his own apprentice, Darth Vader.

2. Fry in Saboteur

Hitchcock was the pioneer of the bad guy death fall. The combination of rear projection and matte shots used to produce the effect of the film’s villain tumbling from the Statue of Liberty is still impressive thanks to HIitchock’s nailbiting pacing. View a clip here.

1. Alan Rickman in Die Hard

Hans Gruber’s fall from Nakatomi Plaza at the climax of Die Hard is perhaps the  seminal blue screen bad guy death. Couldn’t find a good clip of it on the net, but it’s on TV all the time and always in the Wal Mart DVD bargain bin.

So that’s my top five. What are yours? Feel free to flame on mine.

Licensed to Kill (in the comedy sense of the word):

The Top Ten James Bond Parodies of All Freaking Time

With the American release of the new OSS 117 film (a series of French spy spoofs), and the burgeoning popularity of F/X’s animated comedy Archer, the secret agent parody genre is seeing a bit of resurgence. In accordance with this exciting new development, I have listed here, for your intellectual enrichment, the top ten James Bond parodies of all time.

10. The Scorpio Episode of The Simpsons

It seemed as though Homer Simpson had finally found a boss less evil than Mr. Burns. But it turns out that the charming and generous Hank Scorpio was actually a far greater super-villain, replete with his own secret agent nemesis, “Mr. Bunt.”

Hank Scropio VS. Mr. Bunt

9. No One Lives Forever (it’s a video game)

I never knew shooting guys in fez’s could be so fun until I played this swinging video game and it’s awesome sequel.

I don't really remember this weird part, but boy this game sure is funny!

8. What’s Up Tiger Lily?

Woody Allen dubs funny dialogue over an actual Japanese spy movie—sort of Mystery Science Theater meets racism.

7. Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery

I’m just going to put pictures from actual James Bond movies and pretend I thought they were from Austin Powers. That’s how spot on they nailed 007 in the first one.

Yeah Baby!
Throw me a fricking bone.

Just puttin' this in for no reason.

6. For British Eyes Only

Even though Charlize Theron’s character was an MRF (Mentally Retarded Female) she was still more intelligent than most James Bond leading ladies in the “For British Eyes Only” story arc of Arrested Development.

5. Archer

I’m sure Archer will climb even higher on the ranking as this fricking awesome new show continues to dominate your shit.

4. Our Man Flint

Of all the 007 knockoffs, spoofs, and parodies that were released in the spymania of the mid-sixties, this is the only one that kinda, sorta, almost holds up.

Flint kicks a guy in the face. Did this really need a caption?

3. Get Smart! (the show)

Not the movie. I’ll put that on another list. A list of things that are stupid.

2. OSS 117: Cairo, Nest of Spies

If you squint your eyes and laugh hard enough, it almost looks like this movie stars Sean Connery. Spot fucking on.

1. Any James Bond Movie With Pierce Brosnan or Roger Moore

That’s right, when it comes to parodying James Bond, nobody does it better than the real James Bond himself, who was a parody of himself for like, thirty years or something. Christopher Walken wrestling with Grace Jones? A laser battle in space? Jaws turns good? An invisible car? Really? An invisible car. For chrissakes.

Roger Moore, being an old douche.

Bourne, James Bourne?

scubOkay, I’m finally going to wrangle with a ridiculous assertion that critics have been floating lately: that the newly re-booted James Bond franchise is in some way a Jason Bourne clone. C’mon, that’s like saying Coke is a just a clone of Pepsi, or that the State of California is a rip-off of Disney’s California adventure. The reason why the first Bourne film was so refreshing was that it reminded people of the OLD JAMES BOND! Bond was engaging in ruthless hand to hand combat decades before Mr. Bourne was a twinkling in Robert Ludlum’s eye. Bond went rogue decades before Mr. Bourne hit the silver screen. Bond was seeking revenge for the death of his girlfriend when Matt Damon was in diapers.

The Bourne movies served as a catalyst for returning the Bond franchise to its roots, and I praise them for that. The Bond producers reacted to the Bourne movies in the same way they did to their competitors during the “spymania” of the 1960s: They sized up the competition and trounced them.

As for these critics deriding Bond for being a Bourne clone, I am reminded of an American tourist I overheard while visiting the French monastery of Mont-Saint Michel. Looking at the beautiful architecture of the centuries-old structure she commented “It looks just like Disneyland!”

New Bond is Dope

007musical Totally dope. True its source material, The Quantum of Solace is rugged yet refined, brutal but tender, and both funny and tragic. It’s also balls to the wall bad ass. Daniel Craig’s sophomore outing as the iconic secret agent James Bond 007 is certainly not as groundbreaking as Casino Royale, which took the geriatric franchise back to it’s roots, but it’s a leaner, meaner, more functional spy caper. The last film had a lot of groundwork to do, which made it a bit clunky and overlong. Clocking in at an hour and forty-five minutes, this latest Bond is certainly the most efficient in the series. In this way, Quantum benefits from the best parts of the last film, and solves some of its problems. All in all, I was highly satisfied. Keep ’em coming.

I am (not) George Lazenby

It started as a petty prank, as so many things on the Internet do. I had missed a question on a Facebook quiz, the subject of which was On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, the only James Bond film to star Australian actor George Lazenby as the intrepid agent 007. The question was about where a certain Bond girl, Ruby Bartlett was born. Easy…Lancashire.

Wrong. But how could I be? I own that movie! I’ve seen it more times than I’ve taken a crap! Enraged, I emailed the author of the quiz:

“Ruby Bartlett is from Lancashire dumbnutz!”

I received a response:

“She’s from MORECAMBE which is IN Lancashire. Now, what’s that Yank expression, oh yes…dumbass.”

Needless to say, I’ve never been more fucking pissed in my life. Writing this now, I’m fucking pissed. If I ever care to read this after I post it, I will be fucking pissed. This snooty British FUCK thinks he’s a better Bond fan than me just because I fell for some trick question. I mean, who cares about English geography anyway? The whole country is so small it could fit in Delaware’s butthole.

I was hungry for revenge. Bloodthirsty. But what could I do with only Facebook at my fingertips? I logged out and clicked to sign up for a new account.

Name: George Lazenby
Network: Australia
Status: Bond, James Bond.

Presto, I was, for all Facebook purposes, George Lazenby. I had his face, his name, and the ability to poke people. Mwuhahahaha! First and last order of business: send a message to that British prick.

Subj: Great Quiz!

Not. You are a supreme bag of douche. As someone who fucked both Ruby Bartlett AND your mom let me say: Suck my Octoballs Thunderpussy!

Sincerely,
George

I’ve never laughed so hard at my own shit. Thinking about it now, I’m laughing. My new e-enemy had a very thoughtful comeback: “Cock!” Wow, what a writer. The next Ian Fleming, rocking the qwertyboard.

So I was satisfied. I told my buddies about it, had a few laughs, and that was the end of it. Or so I thought. Out of the blue, people started friend requesting me…I mean George. So I accepted. I figured people realized this was a joke and wanted in on the fun. And then they started messaging me, telling me what an honor it was to be friends with George Lazenby.

The fans poured their hearts out about what an impact George’s performance had on them, and how much they admired him. I’d respond with a pleasant, but patronizing “Thanks, mate.” I was so freaked out by this outpouring of e-love for George Lazenby that it took me about two hours to compose that stupid message. I debated for a good forty-five minutes over whether the “mate” was too Australian or just Australian enough.

And then I had my first scare. One of my…er…George’s friends sent a message about coming to a book signing to meet me…er…George. I freaked out. What happens if this guy starts babbling about Facebook at the signing and George is like “I don’t have a Facebook account, mate!” and then Scotland Yard hunts me down and I get extradited to England and sent to the Tower of London for identity fraud? I’d be the black sheep of Bondage! No self-respecting Bond fan would even play a round of GoldenEye64 with me!

Terrified, I logged into my George account the day after the signing. I thought this guy was gonna rail on me for not being the real George. But he didn’t. He posted up a picture of him shaking hands with George and tagged me in it! He messaged me to tell me what a great honor it was to meet me. Phew. Talk about a close one. I made a comment on the photo: “Handsome Chaps.”

My Facebook fraud had brushed against reality. This guy knew the real George Lazenby and the Facebook George Lazenby and hadn’t noticed a thing. And then I started thinking, do these people really think I’m George Lazenby?

I mean, I’m friends with super-hot golfer Natalie Gulbis on Myspace but I know it’s not actually her. It’s just some poor, bored, loser. Like me.

Maybe my Facebook George is like Santa. All signs point to bullshit, but people still want to believe. Was I doing my fellow Bond fans a great service, or was I playing them for fools? I couldn’t decide. Every time George made a new friend, or someone sent him a heartwarming message, I considered shutting down my account. But I couldn’t bring myself to it. People wanted to shower George Lazenby with love and admiration, and who was I to stop them?

And then the real George was in the news. Divorce. A nasty one. The support came rushing in. People from all over the world were offering their kindest thoughts and messages of hope. Our friend from the book signing sent the longest and most thoughtful. He told of his own personal experience going through a divorce, and the wounds it had caused. He opened his heart and soul to George Lazenby. It was the most wonderful letter I’d ever received, and I felt like a sneaky little bastard reading it. I only wished that I could some how deliver it to George, and erase my memory of it. I’m sorry Mr. Lazenby. And my sincerest apologies to the loyal friend you don’t know you have.

So I’m turning myself in.
I confess.
I am (not) George Lazenby.