The name is Bond. James Bond

When the legendary Sean Connery announced his first retirement from the role of the world's most famous secret agent, James Bond 007, producers Albert Broccoli and Harry Saltzman faced the daunting task of finding another actor to fill his shoes in the sixth installment of the series On Her Majesty’s Secret Service. A worldwide search settled on the then-29-year-old Australian model George Lazenby. Because Connery and Bond were fused together in the minds of cinemagoers, they were skeptical that anyone else could play 007– just as, for instance, we cannot think of anyone but Harrison Ford as Indiana Jones. For this reason, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service was initially under-valued and neglected. However, time has been kind to this excellent film, and today it is considered, in many circles, the best in the franchise.

After two frustrating years trying to locate the diabolical Ernst Stavro Blofeld (Telly Savalas), leader of the worldwide criminal organization SPECTRE, Bond is relieved of his responsibilities by MI6 chief M (Bernard Lee). While officially off the case, Bond meets the head of a crime syndicate, Marc-Ange Draco (Gabriele Ferzetti), who is aware that Bond saved the life of his daughter Tracy (Diana Rigg), and later spent the night with her. Draco tells Bond of Tracy’s troubled past, offering him one million pounds if he will marry her. Bond refuses, but agrees to continue romancing Tracy under the agreement that Draco reveals the whereabouts of Blofeld. Tracy discovers Bond's deal with her father and insists that he provide Bond with the information he seeks. Draco tells Bond that Blofeld has links with a lawyer in Bern, Switzerland. After a brief argument, Bond and Tracy begin spending time together. They eventually fall in love and tie the knot.

Bond goes to Bern and discovers papers suggesting Blofeld is the director of Piz Gloria, an allergy clinic in the Swiss Alps; and that he is trying to get the Royal College of Arms to recognize him as a count. Bond takes this information to M, who then allows him to go to Piz Gloria posing as genealogist Sir Hilary Bray. Supposedly he is to assess the director’s claim to the title of count, but in fact his mission is to ascertain whether or not the director is Blofeld, and what Blofeld’s plans for the institute are.

The film adopts an interesting narrative strategy for introducing Lazenby as the new 007 and establishing continuity within the series. At the end of the pre-title sequence in which Bond has saved Tracy from drowning herself and has had a vicious fight with two thugs, only for Tracy to run off leaving him alone on the beach, Lazenby looks at the camera and says "This never happened to the other fella" (A reference to Connery). At one point, Bond empties his desk and takes out props from earlier films (Honey Ryder’s knife from Dr. No, Red Grant’s garrote watch from From Russia With Love, and the miniature re-breather from Thunderball), while we hear composer John Barry's themes from those movies. Later on, Bond walks past a man who is sweeping the floor and whistling the theme to Goldfinger.

Ironically, while director Peter Hunt tries to strengthen the connection between On Her Majesty's Secret Service and Connery's Bond films, he moves out completely of the realms of technology fantasy of the previous installments and presents a quite realistic spy thriller. The film downplays the gadgets and focuses on story and characterization. Bond survives by his own physical skill and ingenuity; he uses his only gadget (a combined safecracker and photocopier) in the sequence in which he breaks into the lawyer's office. This has the effect of making Bond a more believable character. He is not a bigger-than-life hero; as a matter of fact, he seems, time and again, defenseless and anxious. This is especially evident in the scene at the skating rink, where Bond hides from his pursuers and is actually scared.

Nevertheless, the action sequences have all the ingredients one has come to expect from a Bond movie. The fight scenes are stylized and extremely physical, employing jump cuts and loud sound effects to accelerate the tempo and make the violence seem more real than it actually is. The ski chase down Piz Gloria is electrifying. Bond launches himself down the slope and heavily armed assassins give chase. What is great about this is the way the chase just will not end. Upon reaching the village, 007 knocks two gunmen out in a brutal fistfight. But the hunt does not stop here, it just turns into a car chase. A break follows, then the pursuit is renewed on skis. The end of this exciting sequence sets up the climax of the film. The explosive final assault on the mountain-top building is equally spectacular - director Christopher Nolan pays homage to the scene in his blockbuster hit Inception and he has acknowledged that On Her Majesty's Secret Service has immensely influenced his work.

As for George Lazenby’s performance, it is fairly adequate considering this is his first film role. His Bond is not as cocky and as suave as Sean Connery's, but he is more physical and more psychologically complete. Unfortunately, Lazenby would not get to grow into the role since this would be his only portrayal of the British spy. But contrary to popular belief, he was not fired by the producers; it was his agent, Ronan O'Rahilly, who talked him into refusing a lucrative seven-film contract on grounds that the series would die out in the 1970s.

All in all, On Her Majesty's Secret Service is truly a great movie which deserves to be held in the highest regard. It is one of the most exciting Bond outings, in standard action terms but also in dramatic substance.

28/30

The Life Aquatic

Directors are a varied bunch. Some just like to tell the story, some try to throw in all sorts of artistic shots and angles, others have distinctive styles that are easily recognizable regardless of the story they are telling. Wes Anderson fits definitively into that third category as one of the true auteurs working today. Starting with his debut film, Bottle Rocket, and working all the way up to last year's Fantastic Mr. Fox, Anderson has continued to hone a unique and inimitable method of storytelling all his own. My favorite example of Mr. Anderson's work is the charming 2004 movie, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.

The Life Aquatic, spoofing famous French oceanographer Jacques Cousteau, follows a group of documentary filmmakers who create art house pictures on exotic marine wildlife. They are led by the depressed and washed up Steve Zissou, fabulously underplayed by Bill Murray. While on a voyage, Steve's best friend Esteban is killed by a large and mysterious shark. Determined to avenge his fallen comrade, Steve takes of on a revenge crusade in a way only Wes Anderson could visualize.

One of the most memorable and original parts of the film is the marine wildlife. Anderson, working with Henry Selick, the man behind the animation in The Nightmare Before Christmas, decided to use relatively low-tech stop-motion animation. The result is never distracting and at times almost magical. A soundtrack overflowing with David Bowie and Bowie covers on acoustic guitar and in Portuguese only add to the atmosphere.

The dialogue and camera work are overflowing with quirk and sarcasm, yet the script, co-written by Noah Baumbach, still manages to engineer moments of true emotional authenticity between its numerous characters. This helped by a spectacular ensemble cast including, Owen Wilson, Willem Dafoe, Angelica Huston, Jeff Goldblum, and Cate Blanchett. All are terrific, with special praise reserved for Wilson and Dafoe, but it is clearly Bill Murray's show and the movie lives or dies with him.

I like to think that Mr. Murray found a bit of himself in Steve Zissou. Though infamously difficult to work with in real life (Zissou is no peach either), Murray has always been able to collaborate successfully with Anderson. The Life Aquatic was their third movie together, and they have gone on to make two more. While all of their efforts are entertaining, none reach the level of sweetness, humor, tragedy, and whimsy that The Life Aquatic achieves.

27/30

Bande à Part

"There is the cinema before Godard and the cinema after Godard."

- François Truffaut

Arguably the most radical and most prominent of the Nouvelle Vague (French New Wave) filmmakers, Jean-Luc Godard’s greatest talent is undoubtedly for innovation. His unprecedented use of pop culture references, literary and cinematic allusions, eclectic and improvised dialogue, long tracking shots, long takes, jump cuts and other methods of expression revolutionized cinema as we know it. But Godard, who is to receive an honorary Academy Award for lifetime achievement at the next Oscars, is not for every taste. Because he rejects the standard principals of traditional cinema as means to display his originality, his films are sometimes characterized by American cinemagoers as monotonous, infuriating and difficult.

Godard nevertheless clearly illustrates everything there is to know about film theory and cinematic techniques. It is no surprise that he has greatly influenced a number of contemporary directors such as Jonathan Demme, Michel Gondry, Martin Scorsese, Steven Soderbergh and Quentin Tarantino. As a matter of fact, not only did Tarantino name his production company A Band Apart, a play on words of the Godard film Bande à Part (Band of Outsiders), but his first two features, Reservoir Dogs (1992) and Pulp Fiction (1994), are also full with hommages to Bande à Part.

Perhaps one of his "easiest" films, Bande à Part is Godard’s seventh feature, made in 1964. Following up on his groundbreaking classics À bout de souffle (Breathless, 1960), Vivre sa Vie (My Life to Live, 1962) and Le Mépris (Contempt, 1963), Godard pays tribute to the American film noir classics of the 1940s and 1950s in this adaptation of American author Dolores Hitchens’ 1958 novel Fool’s Gold. The film stars Claude Brasseur, Sami Frey, and Godard’s then wife, the beautiful and captivating Anna Karina.

For those who appreciate the director’s unique stylistic approach, Bande à Part is an electrifying caper. It centers on a couple of amateur criminals, Franz (Frey) and Arthur (Brasseur). The two men revere and model themselves on American gangsters. They act out gun battles where Billy the Kid is shot by Sheriff Pat Garrett.

While in English class, Franz meets a young woman, Odile (Karina), who quickly reveals that M. Stolz, her aunt’s mysterious lodger, keeps a large amount of money unlocked in his room. The chance to commit a robbery is too perfect of an opportunity to pass up, so Franz and Arthur plan to steal the money and convince Odile to cooperate. Unfortunately, Arthur's uncle somehow learns of their plot and wants to take over.

The most interesting aspect of Bande à Part is not the story itself but the unpredictability in terms of how the tale is told. Godard pushes the boundaries of what is acceptable in cinema, leading to some surreal moments. The film is not so much about plot or character development, but instead is an expression of the moments in between. The story line is a simple pretext for Godard to demonstrate his cinematographic ingenuity. The characters barely go through any change during the film; the scenes that do not advance the plot are definitely the most appealing and give the film its offbeat charm.

One of these scenes takes place in a diner. Momentarily stuck for words, Odile, Arthur and Franz suggest a minute of silence. “A minute’s silence can be very long,” says Franz. Godard plays a joke on the viewer by eliminating for 36 seconds all the ambient noise, to great comic effect. Shortly after that, the three characters perform a dance routine in the middle of the café (which influenced the dance sequence with Mia Wallace (Uma Thurman) and Vincent Vega (John Travolta) in Pulp Fiction). This time, Godard cuts out the music (but not the background noise) at regular intervals to tell the audience directly what each of them thinks and feels. As the narrator is not one of the characters, this adds a documentary feel to the film.

The dance routine does not push the story forward, it is insignificant to the film as a whole, but it captures a peaceful moment in time. What has happened or will happen is not important; all that matters is the purity of this one perfect instant. By breaking the limitations of realistic structure, Godard effectively reminds us that we are just watching a film, nothing more and nothing less.

Bande à Part is splendid, genuinely brilliant and exceptionally distinct. Its superior artistic quality is as spectacular as it was four decades ago. Godard created a film that has proved to be able to successfully pass the test of time; an influential film to see again and again. A good place to learn how much of a debt modern cinema owes him.

27/30