QUICK TAKE: Syriana (2005)

By Miguel E. Rodriguez

Director: Stephen Gaghan
Cast: George Clooney, Matt Damon, Jeffrey Wright, Christopher Plummer, Chris Cooper, Amanda Peet
My Rating: 8/10
Rotten Tomatometer: 72%

PLOT: A politically charged epic about the state of the oil industry in the hands of those personally involved and affected by it.


Syriana reminds me of one of those puzzles made out of twisted nails, where the challenge is to untangle them, even though it appears to be impossible.  The difference is, with Syriana, I don’t get tired of trying.  At least, not yet.

The movie is a pleasure to watch, but hard to explain.  It’s a convoluted tale that starts with an impending merger between two oil companies, detours into political and legal intrigue, and sprinkles in some religious fanaticism by the time we get to the end.  I’ve watched it five times, and I still have questions about the plot.  I JUST watched it, and I’m still not entirely sure who Christopher Plummer’s character is and why he matters at all to the story.

Normally, a movie this confusing would turn me off.  (Examples: Full Frontal [2002], The Fountain [2006], The Counselor [2013])  But when I watch Syriana, I get the sense that, underneath the twisty plot and maddeningly oblique dialogue, there lurks a great truth.  Maybe the plot is confusing because, really, the situation it’s describing is so confusing in real life.  Maybe any attempt to parse the complexities of U.S. relations with oil-producing countries is a fool’s gambit to begin with.  So the movie just jumps in with both feet and separates the watchers from the listeners.  You’ve really got to ACTIVELY listen for two hours to make ANY sense of the movie.

Maybe that’s not your thing.  Fair enough.  This is the kind of movie that I can’t defend on objective grounds.  You’re either gonna like it or not.  For myself, I get sucked into it every time I watch, even if I don’t understand it all 100%.  So.  There you go.

SCROOGE (1970)

By Miguel E. Rodriguez

Director: Ronald Neame
Cast: Albert Finney, Alec Guinness, Edith Evans
My Rating: 9/10
Rotten Tomatometer: 75%

PLOT: In 19th-century London, a bitter old miser who rationalizes his uncaring nature learns real compassion when three spirits visit him on Christmas Eve (except this one is a musical).

[SPOILER ALERTS! (For anyone whose souls are so dead they have never seen or read A Christmas Carol before…)]


I happened to watch this musical version of A Christmas Carol shortly after watching my absolute FAVORITE version, the CBS TV movie starring George C. Scott as Scrooge.  The two could not be any different, but I can say that, were it not for an absurd cartoonish moment near the finale, this musical would be tied with the TV version as my favorite adaptations.  More on that cartoony moment later.

Albert Finney was only 34 years old when he played the skinflint Scrooge in this 1970 version, and I have to say, the makeup and acting ability on display to turn him into a crusty, hunched-over old man are phenomenal.  There’s a scene where movie magic allows Finney to be onscreen as old Scrooge AND young Scrooge at the same time; as a child, I was convinced they were two different actors.  It’s truly astonishing.

The musical numbers lend a slightly corny air to the storytelling, diminishing the gothic nature of the ghostly visitations.  However, it does make the movie more FUN than other adaptations.  The songs (music and lyrics by Leslie Bricusse of Jekyll and Hyde fame) do capture the spirit of the scenes, in particular “Thank You Very Much” (sung, in a moment of delicious irony, at Scrooge’s death during his visit with the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come) and my favorite INDIVIDUAL number, the jig danced at Fezziwig’s party: “December the Twenty-Fifth.”  (I would imagine some of these are available on YouTube, for anyone who hasn’t seen the movie and wants a sneak preview before committing to the whole thing.)  The weakest number would have to be the (thankfully) brief song by Jacob Marley, played with vigor by Alec Guinness.  Let us all give thanks Obi-Wan Kenobi was never called on to sing in the cantina on Tattoine.

But the absolute highlight of the movie – really, the BEST reason to watch the film, in my opinion – is the grand finale.  (You’ll have to bear with me, I love this moment, and I want to make sure my description convinces anyone who HASN’T seen the movie to take the plunge.)

It takes place after Scrooge has awakened on Christmas day, a changed man, and has purchased the enormous turkey.  As he skips merrily to Bob Cratchit’s house, with several children in tow, he starts to sing the song originally sung to him by the Ghost of Christmas Present, “I Like Life.”  This kicks off the longest sustained sequence of pure joy in a musical that I can recollect off the top of my head.  Scrooge nearly cleans out a toy store and dons a Father Christmas costume (prompting a delightful reprise of a song called “Father Christmas).  At one point, a troop of bell-ringers perform an elaborate, smile-inducing bit.  As he begins to rip up his debt sheets, “Thank You Very Much” is reprised.  The gathering crowd swells until the narrow streets are jam packed with dancers and singers.  His encounter with Bob Cratchit while decked out as Father Christmas is flat out hilarious.  The finale swells and swells, getting more and more joyous, until it feels like the entire city has turned out to get in on the fun.

Watching that number again today, I found, to my delight, that I was, ah…getting a little verklempt.  Now, don’t get excited, I’m not saying I shed actual tears.  I will say, though, that it wouldn’t have taken much to push me over the edge.  THAT’S why the movie is so good.  It’s very, VERY close to perfect.

And why ISN’T it perfect?  Oh, but let me tell you.

Whenever this movie was shown on television, a curious thing always happened.  In the TV version, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come scares Scrooge into falling into his own grave, and he falls and falls…and abruptly, everything goes black, and we see him lying in what appears to be a coffin-shaped hole in the ground.  And then there was a commercial.  And when we get back to the movie, Scrooge is struggling on the floor next to his bed, with his bedsheets wrapped around his head and neck like snakes, and he sounds like he’s choking, and the movie proceeds from there.

Well…what happened?  There’s obviously footage missing, right?  For years and years, I assumed that, whatever was missing from the television airings, it was deemed too terrifying to show on TV.  Maybe he wakes up in Hell, and snakes attack him, which would explain the bedsheets.

Nope.  The DVD version ends the mystery.

In a TERRIBLE move, Jacob Marley shows up again to escort Scrooge to his new quarters in Hell.  This time, Alec Guinness REALLY camps it up, trotting along down the corridors of Perdition as if the ground was too hot to keep his feet down any longer than he has to.  The set design for this version of Hell looks more like a forgotten room in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory than anything else.  Marley presents Scrooge with the chain he was forging in life (you know the story), and it’s so big, he says, “they had to take on extra devils in the foundry to finish it.”  I mean, really?  They couldn’t have just cut right to him waking up in bed after falling?  They had to add this utterly unnecessary cartoonish button?

It’s this scene that prevents me from marking this movie as a “10.”  Remove that altogether, we’ve got near perfection.  Alas.

But, setting that aside, this is a truly great Christmas film.  It makes the story fun, especially that finale.  If it doesn’t reach the gritty realism of the George C. Scott version, well, we’re kind of talking apples and oranges here.  This is a real treat.

PRIDE & PREJUDICE (2005)

By Miguel E. Rodriguez

Director: Joe Wright
Cast: Keira Knightley, Matthew Macfadyen, Rosamund Pike, Carey Mulligan, Donald Sutherland
My Rating: 9/10
Rotten Tomatometer: 86% Certified Fresh

PLOT: Jane Austen’s immortal novel receives yet another makeover, with Keira Knightley as the headstrong Elizabeth Bennet, who finds herself reluctantly falling for the brooding, distant Mr. Darcy.


The words “sumptuous” and “painterly” came to mind repeatedly while watching director Joe Wright’s delightful version of Pride & Prejudice.  Much like Kubrick’s Barry Lyndon, the images in Pride & Prejudice appear lifted from paintings of landscapes and portraits you’d find hanging in any given museum.  The details are as stunning as anything you’d find in a Merchant Ivory film.  It’s just gorgeous to look at.

The screenplay clips along at a nice pace, and the English accents are a tad thick at times, so you’ll definitely want to be paying close attention to the dialogue.  While the cinematography is masterful, this is above all a film of words.  It’s not exactly Shakespearean, but there are times when sentence construction coils on itself like a highway cloverleaf.

Other random thoughts:

  • The casting of Keira Knightley is utterly perfect, but Matthew Macfadyen looks JUST a shade too old for her, although it’s entirely possible that was normal for the period.  Who WOULDN’T fall in love with this woman?
  • Carey Mulligan makes her screen debut in this film as one of the Bennet sisters.  Both she and Jena Malone are suitably obnoxious and giggly playing teenage girls, but they do look a little too old for the part.  Just sayin’.
  • Donald Sutherland is magnificent as the patriarch of the Bennet family.  His love for his wife and daughters is supremely evident, as is his frequent exasperation at their nattering and chattering.  His somewhat frazzled wardrobe is the perfect indicator of his inner self.
  • I just have to mention the cinematography again here.  There are one or two long takes (not Goodfellas long, but long nevertheless) that are like a master class in conveying information using minimal dialogue.  It doesn’t hurt that the costuming and production design are flawless.
  • Two words: Judi Dench.  Reportedly, the director convinced her to be in this movie by writing her a letter in which he stated, “I love it when you play a bitch.”  She delivers in spades.
  • In today’s world, I wonder what folks would think of Mr. Darcy’s actions.  He falls for Elizabeth, but she rebuffs him when she believes he ruined her sister’s prospects of marriage.  He then proceeds to assist her family enormously, but behind the scenes, and then tells her, “Surely you must know…it was all for you.”  Today’s PC watchdogs might call that stalking.  Discuss.

As a general rule, I am not a huge fan of Jane Austen adaptations.  It is a measure of the quality of this movie that I felt compelled to make it part of my collection (along with Ang Lee’s Sense & Sensibility and Patricia Rozema’s under-appreciated Mansfield Park).  As period pieces go in general, I would rank it comfortably with Amadeus and Barry Lyndon.  It’s a gem.

QUICK TAKE: Rent (2005)

By Miguel E. Rodriguez

Director: Chris Columbus
Cast: Anthony Rapp, Adam Pascal, Rosario Dawson, Idina Menzel
My Rating: 8/10
Rotten Tomatometer: 46%

PLOT: The film version of the Pulitzer and Tony Award winning musical about Bohemians in the East Village of New York City struggling with life, love and AIDS, and the impacts they have on America.


If you are not a “Rent-head”, then the long-awaited film version of the late Jonathan Larson’s massive Broadway hit is not likely to convert you.  The musical numbers are competently staged, but without a huge amount of imagination, so you’re basically getting the stage show, on a screen.  (The largest flight of fancy is the “Tango Maureen” number that briefly leaves reality when a character is knocked unconscious.)

I would not describe myself as a “Rent-head”, but I am a big admirer of the live show, so as far as me and my opinion are concerned, this counted as a fun night at the movies.  I like the slightly irregular rhythms of the lyrics, the raw vibe of the music, like Jonathan Larson slapped everything together hoping it would stick, though I’m sure the exact opposite was the case.

The story is melodrama personified.  We’re in the realm of stage musicals, where everything is bigger and brassier than real life, reality turned to eleven.  For those unaware of the plot, it’s loosely based on Puccini’s opera, La Bohème, so don’t expect subtlety or a happy ending.  (Not saying there ISN’T one, just don’t EXPECT it.)

[SIDE NOTE: Watching it again this time around, I couldn’t get away from thinking of the movie Hair, Milos Forman’s cinematic adaptation of that Broadway show.  Rent feels like Hair without the drug-trippy scenes or the hippie music.]

Make no bones about it, this movie was a passion project, from the director on down.  The filmmakers begged the MPAA to downgrade the rating from R to PG-13, to make it more accessible to teenagers.  That passion is evident in every camera swoop and exquisitely lit close-up, but it’s not quite as effective as other move musicals that take bigger strides in the world of make-believe (Moulin Rouge, Across the Universe).

I’m trying to think of a way to wrap up this review, but it’s getting late and I’m getting tired.  As musicals go, it’s no Chicago, but I liked it better than Hairspray.

FANTASTIC BEASTS: THE CRIMES OF GRINDELWALD (2018)

By Miguel E. Rodriguez

Director: David Yates
Cast: Eddie Redmayne, Katherine Waterston, Jude Law, Johnny Depp
My Rating: 7/10
Rotten Tomatometer: 40%

PLOT: Magizoologist Newt Scamander (Redmayne) searches Europe for a young man harboring a powerful talent, but must contend with dark forces led by the notorious dark wizard, Gellert Grindelwald (Depp).


[SPOILER ALERTS!!!]

In a nutshell, Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald is more exposition than spectacle, delivering chunk after chunk of background information on new and existing characters, culminating in a filial revelation that, frankly, I found more than a bit unbelievable.  (But then, I originally thought Vader was lying to Luke Skywalker, so there you go.)  The movie also has a weird habit of introducing characters and then forgetting about them, either altogether or for long stretches of time.  (Wasn’t Bunty interesting?  Two scenes, then nothing.)

But, I have to say, I loved the creatures again, just as I did in the first installment.  The obscurial, for example, is a deceptively hard creature to bring to life, and it’s just as imposing and fearsome this time around.  I loved seeing the niffler again, and who wouldn’t?  The Chinese dragon creature, the Zouwu, was the highlight of all the creatures for me, if for no other reason than the charming method used to calm it down.

I did have a problem following the action during the film’s opening sequence, Grindelwald’s escape.  In all the worst ways, it resembled one of the main fight scenes from Ang Lee’s “Hulk.”  It takes place at night, in driving rain, and a lot of the action happens too fast for the eye to follow.  I might as well have been watching an abstract screen saver.

Being a middle chapter, there were also a lot of threads left hanging, no doubt to whet our appetites for the third chapter, but frustrating nevertheless.  I felt some key information was left out in Yusuf Kama’s story.  The French witch in charge of the archives in the French Ministry of Magic seemed to know more than she was letting on…did she know immediately that she was being hoodwinked?  It was nice to see Nicolas Flamel…but who was he talking to in that big book of his?  A prophecy is mentioned repeatedly…but no one is ever able to finish it without being interrupted.  The woman who fatally pulls a wand on an auror at the big gathering in the finale was glimpsed earlier in the film.  Why?  Was she meant to be important?

I haven’t read the negative reviews of the film, but I would imagine these questions and the density of the screenplay are key points in their arguments.  I have no counterargument.  The screenplay is indeed very dense.  But the visuals are a treat, however rare they were.  It was extremely cool, on a Potterhead level, to see Hogwarts again.  (An audience member applauded when it appeared on screen.)  The creatures are, naturally, fantastic.

I can only hope that these great gobs of backstory pay off in future installments of the franchise.

THE FRENCH CONNECTION

By Marc S. Sanders

Popeye’s in town.

“You been picking yer feet in Poughkeepsie?”

One of the first gritty crime dramas.

With modern cinema offering huge bravura performances a la Daniel Day Lewis or Christoph Waltz these days, it’s any wonder that today’s generation of movie goers would be puzzled that Gene Hackman won the Best Actor Oscar for this film, The French Connection, which also happened to win Best Picture. His character has no big monologues, no huge crying scenes. In fact for most of the film, he’s slamming guys up against a wall or following them up and down the dirty Brooklyn streets. Yet, his accolades were nothing short of deserved.

Watch as Hackman’s Popeye Doyle gradually exhausts himself in pursuit of “Frog 1.” His character starts out as a thrill seeking detective only to find his limits pushed against a better cat and mouse player. Dialogue isn’t sophisticated here to show his state of mind, but rather his expressions offer everything. Simply look at his close up following the extensive car search (an incredibly satisfying scene for me as a viewer).

If that’s not enough, the car/foot chase through Brooklyn is one that still has not been matched. See how it was done before CGI.

A simple drug deal is plotted perfectly from Marseille to New York, and best of all, it is all true (well mostly).

What’s most curious is the film provides one of the oddest and most unforgiving endings in a film ever. Perhaps you’ll agree (????). But, remember…THAT IS HOW IT HAPPENED!!!!

This was a film from 1971 that was raw in its language, gritty in its setting, spiteful and unafraid of the image it would leave, and that is why it won Best Picture, Best Director and Best Actor.

Bottom line, it would never have been made today. Never!

(Word of advice, ignore the sequel. A prime example of Hollywood shamelessly cashing in.)

THE LAST PICTURE SHOW

By Marc S. Sanders

Peter Bogdonovich’s classic adaptation of Larry McMurtry’s The Last Picture Show is a display of the ends of things that perhaps at one time had life.

The film opens on the main street of the fictional town of Anarene, Texas in November 1951, just as the Korean War was occurring.

A strong gust of wind blows while a mute, mentally handicapped boy fruitlessly sweeps a dusty street, and a junky pick up truck careens down carrying Duane Jackson (Jeff Bridges) and Sonny Crawford (Timothy Bottoms); both on the brink of adulthood with no future in sight. Anarene is a town that has a past and only a few remnants of a present represented by a pool hall, a diner and movie house. All three are owned by Sam “The Lion” (Ben Johnson in an Oscar winning performance). Sam is old and wise. The town speaks through Sam, who is well aware nothing of promise is offered here anymore. So it’s no surprise that all the remaining townsfolk can occupy themselves with are their televisions and sexual conquests.

Variations of perspectives that are sexual in nature continue to symbolize what is dying in Anarene. Cybill Shepherd in her very first role portrays Jacy, the pretty girl. Her innocence will be lost as soon as she gives away her virginity. It matters little to her how that happens. Bogdanovich offers a great scene where Jacy attends a swimming pool skinny dip party. Jacy is pressured into standing on a diving board to undress in front of the revelers. I looked at this moment as a teetering balancing act. Jacy is bordering saying goodbye to her youth forever. She does undress all the way only to almost trip off the board. For the moment, Bogdonovich saves the character’s present state as she narrowly avoids falling in the water.

Later, on a whim during New Year’s Eve, Sonny and Jackson go off to Mexico with little money in their pockets and no plan in mind. When they return, an unexpected turn of events has occurred. The fate of this town is withering away with the breeze that’s always intruding. The mute boy will occasionally sweep the street again but accomplish nothing from it.

The films in the movie house represent those that were once celebrated but are now almost never noticed as these families are becoming more glued to the next common household appliance, the television with variety hour shows.

The music never changes or grows up. Hank Williams Sr, occupies the minds of folk who maintained this town at one time and are slowly dying off. The next generation does not have much appreciation for it.

I could go on. Every scene in The Last Picture Show brings about another example of an ending. Bogdonovich was meticulous in his symbolic method of McMurty’s story.

I love that the film, released originally in 1971, was shot in black & white because it shows the story in a historical context; this is what’s left of what once was. The sexual situations don’t hold back in nudity. It’s wise as I thought the nudity clashed with the black & white; it was almost intrusive. The nudity is overcoming the home life heartland that small towns like Anarene used to be remembered for. Sadly, the characters have a hard time accepting this fate.

Cloris Leachman portrays Ruth Popper, the wife of the high school coach who she suspects of being gay. She engages in an affair with young Sonny and her big moment comes when she frustratingly throws a coffee pot at the wall in a rage. She’s terrified that Sonny could never retreat to her pace of life. He’s apt to move on from her. She’ll be stuck with a closeted gay husband in an unstimulating environment. Time has become stagnant for Ruth within the confines of a lifeless marriage and a dead town.

A new way of life awaits. Destiny for Jacy, Sonny and Duane do not include Anarene in their plans.

Eventually Sonny and Duane attend a showing of John Ford’s “Red River” featuring John Wayne. The next morning, after the movie house has closed forever (no one buys tickets anymore), a new fate awaits, maybe even death. Worse yet, maybe for one of them, there is no fate. Maybe, for one of them all that’s offered is an absence of life while residing in Anarene, Texas.

I didn’t realize how much material I absorbed until after The Last Picture Show was over. Peter Bogdonovich provided more for me to think about then I was aware of. The initial slow pace of the film seems mundane at first until you understand that people like Ruth and Sam have memories they experienced but will never carry forward. It’s sad. Their history had meaning at one time. The legacy of their past, however, has no future.

The Last Picture Show is on AFI’s 100 best movies from 2007. It deserves to be as Bogdonovich deftly shows how a past withers away from a nowhere future. His set pieces and direction of characters show the suffering they endure with an unsure end they can not escape.

I haven’t stopped thinking about The Last Picture Show since it ended.

DIRTY HARRY

By Marc S. Sanders

The very first R rated film I ever saw was Dirty Harry. I was probably 7 or 8 when my brother introduced me to it, and it eventually led to my first R rated film to see in the theatres, Sudden Impact, the fourth film in the series.

The original installment had such an influence on me, and it remains as one of my favorite films. I did not necessarily understand at the time the complex, albeit simplistic summary, of the law and the barriers Harry Callahan breaks to get the bad guy. I was more impressed with the 44 Magnum he carried and sociopathic behavior of the serial killer, Scorpio.

All these years later, followed by numerous viewings, and I’m just grateful director Don Siegel’s film was actually made. Had it been considered today for a treatment, it would have never come to light. The film is too candid and frank in its liberties of racist undertones and the underworld of a seedy San Francisco during the 1970s. Harry just didn’t care about the sensitivity of any demographic. He also just didn’t care about what was at stake to capture a hardened, dangerous, apathetic killer. Arguably, and only in the fictional world of film, audiences were probably grateful for that. Cut the bullshit. We all know who the guilty party is. Let’s get him off the streets, regardless of what is mandated to avoid any further loss of life. At least through the first 4 of the 5 Dirty Harry films that has been the common theme. (I’m especially fond of Magnum Force for challenging Harry’s own code of law enforcement. There are great debates to think about in that film.)

Dirty Harry is a deliberately ugly film. Siegel shows the worst of people at times, including Harry. Yet, there are sick people on the streets like actor Andy Robinson’s Scorpio killer that treat murder, mayhem and extortion as a twisted game of insane pleasure. Robinson was perfect in this role, a precursor I thought for Heath Ledger’s Joker many years later. Only a guy like Dirty Harry Callahan is right to nab a guy like this.

The film offers great moral questioning on the rights of men whether they are clearly the culprit or not. Miranda and several amendments are appropriately referenced and questioned. Is it ever appropriate to exercise brute force on a suspect? Can a near impossible scenario justify any actions of that measure? “Well then the law’s crazy,” Harry says. Even by today’s standards you can’t help but wonder if Harry is right.

What would be Harry’s opinion of today’s ongoing theme of domestic abuse among NFL athletes? Fair trials, and innocent until proven guilty are necessary but (at least this is how I feel) the circumstances of these stories make it abundantly clear that the guy did it. He beat his girlfriend into oblivion. The evidence is so much easier to uncover these days. It’s easy for me to say this from the comfort of my own home and not on a jury box. What would Harry think? He always knew to see beyond the bullshit. Heck, if I ever got a chance to interview the guy, all he’d probably tell me is get out of here. He’s got work to do. Harry Callahan was never up for sharing anyway.

DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER

By Marc S. Sanders

Director Guy Hamilton (Goldfinger) returns to helm Sean Connery’s final portrayal of 007 in the EON Productions series with Diamonds Are Forever. Unfortunately, this film doesn’t even come close to measuring up to Hamilton’s prior effort.

Little regard is offered to the shocking ending of the prior installment, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service. A quick opening has Bond tossing Blofeld (head of SPECTRE, here played gleefully by Charles Grey) into a lava pit. Following Shirley Bassey’s pretty good theme song, 007 is assigned to acquire diamonds that are getting smuggled from the mines of South Africa and intercepted by a beautiful American red head named Tiffany Case (Jill St. John, who is pretty fun in the role). Only problem is that nearly every person the diamonds pass through ends up dead by the homosexual henchmen Mr. Kidd & Mr. Wendt. Considering the sexual tête-à-tête the Bond films became known for by the 7th film, Hamilton and company play up these guys like a weird joke in their inflection with one another, and even the fact that they hold hands at times. The music resorts to a mischievous note on the saxophone. In 1971, this might have held for a good laugh. In the PC era, it really doesn’t feel appropriate to imply these assassins are disturbing simply because they’re gay.

Eventually, the pursuit of said diamonds moves to Las Vegas where some silly Smokey & The Bandit (which was not even close to being released yet) humor occurs. Bond pilots a moon buggy through the Nevada desert while cars that are chasing him fall apart and flip over against the sandy terrain. More silly car chases happen in the heart of Vegas. The sheriff and his men are turned into Keystone Cops. It’s a little too much slapstick actually.

Still, why the need for the diamonds and what does a mysterious, unseen, wealthy man named Willard Whyte (Jimmy Dean) have to do with it?

Bond films work best when the villains work. There’s not much given from a powerhouse villain here like there was in Goldfinger. The necessary shootout ending occurs on an oil tanker this time, and Bond is hardly threatened or under much duress. Thus, killing any kind of suspense.

Connery is fine but you can also tell his commitment is hardly in the role. He’s working just enough for a paycheck-reportedly collecting a record million dollars to return to the role one more time.

By the time the film ends, you feel ready for a drastic change in the franchise. The ‘60s camp is over with. Disco seventies is here. So you wish that 007 can make a smooth transition to the changing cultural times. We would have to wait and see what producers Harry Saltzman & Albert Broccoli could do next to reinvigorate the franchise.

ON HER MAJESTY’S SECRET SERVICE

By Marc S. Sanders

Director Peter Hunt was awarded the opportunity to take the James Bond franchise in a double curve ball direction with 1969’s On Her Majesty’s Secret Service. For the first time in the Eon Productions series, helmed by Harry Saltzman & Albert Brocolli, the role of Bond is recast with George Lazenby. Plus-what’s this? 007 falls in love????

Lazenby is serviceable in the role, seeming to have a taller and more slender appearance than his predecessor (Sean Connery), and not a huge departure in looks. Still his tongue in cheek pun delivery is no match for the original Bond.

OHMSS is a bit hit and miss. The fight scenes look great as the film starts off with Bond fending off a couple of thugs on the beach and a later downhill ski chase is exhilarating and well edited. Telly Savalas also works as a different kind of Blofeld (replacing Donald Pleasence as the cat loving villain). I just wonder why the long middle act was so cheesy, almost like a bad episode of “Batman” or “Star Trek.” The swinging ’60s might have been coming to a close but James Bond was not ready to put it behind him.

After the first third of the story establishes a love story between Bond and Tracy (Diana Rigg as the daughter of Draco, a competing criminal mastermind of Blofeld & SPECTRE), the super spy is off to Piz Gloria, a lodge located on the highest snowy mountain of Switzerland.

Bond goes undercover as a genealogist (I really don’t know why) while looking not the least bit macho in a ruffled shirt with a kilt and knee high socks adorned with red bows. It’s hard to accept James Bond in this image. I couldn’t imagine Connery adopting this get up.

At the lodge Bond uncovers a stupid plot orchestrated by Blofeld where he’s brainwashing a group of swinging girls to, I think, poison the world populace with makeup kits, or maybe bomb the population. I’m not sure exactly.

Eventually, and thankfully, Bond makes an escape in a well shot ski scene while being pursued by Blofeld and his men. It’s a fun sequence.

This film takes some odd turns. Per the prior entry, “You Only Live Twice,” Bond and Blofeld come face to face. Here, it is as if they never met before. Why the neglect for what’s already been established?

It’s also a bit curious to see Bond fall in love and (SPOILER ALERT) marry Tracy, especially when the franchise is breaking in a new actor for audiences to get used to. Were they thinking new actor means new kind of Bond?

No question OHMSS stands out from the rest of the franchise for the change in casting but also the odd story turns it takes. Not to mention, it has the most somber ending of all Bond films.

It’s worth a look even if it is not the best in the series.

I’ll be interested to see what Lazenby does in future films with the role…oh wait…. Nevermind.