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| 1967 Director: Peter Hunt Producers: Albert R. Broccoli & Harry Saltzman Screenplay: Richard Maibaum |
| Far up! Far out! Far more! James Bond 007 is back! |
| When Bond sees a sexy girl paddling up to her knees in the sea, he speeds his car onto the beach, and wades in to drag her out, for some reason believing that she is trying to kill herself. He is then inexpicably attacked by a couple of thugs while she motors away. When he eventually beats his assailants up, he says, to the camera, mind, "This never happened to the other Fellah!" You know what else didn't happen to the other fellah? He didn't decide to quit Her Majesty's Secret Service either. He didn't spit his dummy out and walk out on the greatest job in the world. Or bloody fall in love like a great big jessy. After leaving MI6 Bond spends an interminable amount of time running along the beach and going shopping with his fiancee, Tracy. That's right, fiancee. He doesn't love 'em and leave 'em anymore, he's found his perfect woman. Of course what On Her Majesty's Secret Service is best known for is being the sole outing of the George Lazonby model Bond. The acting lessons that the studio forced this Australian model (who'd never acted before) to have, clearly didn't take, he is shockingly bad, and no substitute for the greatest living scotsman. When he eventually decides to go after his arch-nemesis Blofeld, he goes undercover as Sir Hillary Bray to Blofeld's mountain-top secret base. This is a bit of a gamble really, Blofeld came face-to-face with Bond in You Only Live Twice, so a plan that involves disguising yourself by wearing a kilt might be deemed a bit shit in some circles. And yet it works. It takes Blofeld ages to figure it out, and then it is only because he doesn't think that someone from the College of Arms wouldn't go round bed-hopping all night when staying in a chateau full of fit young girls who all gagging for it. Blofeld has gone down hill a long way (although he has further to fall in the next movie). Telly Savalas plays him as a loud,American, without any of the quietly psychotic sinister menace of his predecessor. Worst of all, his evil plan this time is simply to get amnesty for his past crimes and recognition of his title. Interestingly, Blofeld takes responsibilty for the 1967 Foot and Mouth Disease outbreak. Poses some questions about the 2001 crisis doesn't it? The most faithful adaptation of an Fleming novel, On Her Majesty's Secret Service remains the worst Bond film ever made. Even the Bond formula cannot support a prat like Lazonby, not that they try that hard. There's no memoable action sequences and no gadgets. On the plus side, it does have a good theme song in Louis Armstrong's last hit, We Have All The Time In The World, and one of the better titles of the series. And even though Bond falls in love and gets married, she's dead by the end, and this stops Bond going all gooey over any more chicks. |
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