Rewatching the spy who loved me

I have finally got round to starting my methodical reappraisal of the roger Moore Bond films. Lyn gave me Moore’s book, Bond On Bond for Christmas, so I thought I better give him a whirl. Given that it’s opening was referenced at the Olympic games, and given too that I love the theme, I decided to start with The Spy Who loved Me. You know, it was definitely a mistake to try to watch all twenty-two bond films end on end, as I just got bond fatigue. Comparing one bond to another is like comparing wines: the great thing about the Bond franchise is that it has vintages. Watching ‘Spy’ just now, I realised I was watching a great film of its day, one finely balanced, and, while still cartoonish compared to others, not without nuance. Indeed, it has some great touches: at one point, near the end, Bond flips a switch on the submarine and the non-diagetic music cuts out. Genius!

I suppose I was too hasty to dismiss Roger Moore’s double oh seven. He might not be as brutal as the others, and he might be ever so slightly camp, but I realise now he still has a right to introduce himself as ”Bond, James Bond.” Next on my ‘to watch’ list: Live and Let Die.

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