It’s not so much one or more scene’s, it’s just the feeling of the whole movie, which is also completely different from all the Bondmovies, which came before.
It’s tougher, more nasty and all the characters, except for Pam, are not realy likeable, even not Bond himself and there’s almost no humor, except for Q, but his scene’s don’t realy fit in with the rest of the movie.
And like Dalton on this site already said: the whole setting in Florida (and Mexico) does look like you’re in an episode of MV, incl. speedboats, seaplanes, going undercover in a drugsorganisation, the whole Sanchez character and the clothes he’s wearing.
Also the whole tv look of the movie and not much variation of different countries and locations gave the feeling of an expanded episode of MV.
Don’t get me wrong; I was a huge MV fan at the time, it was the coolest show on television, I taped a lot of episodes, bought all the LP’s and later the cd’s, had even official licenced sunglases, but… I didn’t want all of that for a Bond movie.
I understand that I am not winning a court case with my explanation, but I can’t better explain it right now.
I understood that, though it is a matter of degrees.
A wider issue is when Eon etc use the term “spirit of Fleming” (which someone really should have copyrighted!), when Fleming meant different things at different times. For example, does it refer to the relatively authentic depiction of espionage as seen in From Russia, With Love or the giant squid fight in Doctor No?
It’s like when a music journalist refers to a song as “Beatle-eqsue” when that could refer to anything from ‘I Wanna Hold Your Hand’ to ‘I Am the Walrus’ to ‘Blackbird’.
Perhaps it depends on the element which was most consistent in an artist’s work, and not to any experiments they may have indulged in.
My take on the “I’ll thank him for it” line, at least as delivered by Dalton, was “Fat chance; he needs me more than I need him.” I don’t really get the impression he’s fed up with his job, more that he reserves the right to trust his judgement in the field and not be bound by orders on a piece of paper typed up days ago in London by people who could only guess at the actual situation in the field. England gains nothing from the killing of an amateur who has no idea what she’s doing: Bond smells a rat and knows something bigger is afoot.
Saunders is a by-the-book type, a desk jockey with delusions of grandeur and an eye on promotion. Bond is a veteran who does the dirty jobs and has few illusions left. Guys who stick to orders whether they make sense in the field or not are a dime a dozen, but if M cans Bond, it’s M’s funeral, career-wise. Anyway, Bond’s got two ways out of his job, and neither one involves moving up. Either he goes sideways and exits the service, or he dies on the job and goes six feet down. Unlike Saunders, he’s got no incentive to earn “brownie points.”
While CraigBond always demonstrates that he can and will quit at any time, it also seems that he is all the more willing to return to work. He never actually questions the job, he is rather the “I’m pissed right now, see if I care”-guy who eagerly says “okay, I’m back because I actually never wanted to leave anyway”.
DaltonBond is a total professional who sees his job as his duty but reserves his right to make a decision even when it is against his orders. Afterwards, in TLD, he explains his choice. I also agree that he is doubtful whether M would actually fire him - but he is willing to risk it because he is a man of principle. And that is also true for LTK. When he tells M that he owes it to Leiter and then has to resort to offering his resignation, he truly feels hurt and angry that his code of honor is rejected by M.
In contrast, CraigBond is a man of deep-seated anger, quick to follow his emotional response to any situation. That way CraigBond truly is a Bond of its times, kind of the sulking teenager who lashes out when he feels angry or sad, when he really wants to impress his mother. A basic set of principles does not seem to guide him at all.
That might sound harsh - and I do like CraigBond. But I find it unjustified when so much praise is heaped on his portrayal in contrast to previous incarnations. And the more you look at it the less innovative and nuanced AND true to Fleming CraigBond really is.
Dalton came so much closer, despite giving the role his own spin, as it should be.
It goes to show how short people’s memories are, I suppose.
All this talk about the greatness of Dalton makes me want to see his two films again now!
And then be sad that probably the greatest Bond actor will become a footnote in the general audience´s awareness, slightly ahead of an Australian male model.
Really, some streamer should finally do a great spy series and cast Dalton in the main role!
I see the M/Bond relationship in the Craig era as more codependent. More than any of his predecessors, Craig’s Bond is a killer by nature, and would kill with or without a license. With the MI-6 sanction, he can do it “legit,” otherwise he’d be in prison. As for M’s side of it, as much trouble Bond is on the payroll, imagine the destruction he could cause off of it. Bond’s a loaded gun regardless, but at least M can point him in a useful direction.
I realize I may be in the minority with this opinion. LOL
This passage from Roger Ebert‘s review of TLD presents how differently Bond movies were judged back then and why Dalton faced an uphill battle:
„The raw materials of the James Bond films are so familiar by now that the series can be revived only through an injection of humor. That is, unfortunately, the one area in which the new Bond, [Timothy Dalton], seems to be deficient. He’s a strong actor, he holds the screen well, he’s good in the serious scenes, but he never quite seems to understand that it’s all a joke.
The correct tone for the Bond films was established right at the start, with Sean Connery’s quizzical eyebrows and sardonic smile. He understood that the Bond character was so preposterous that only lightheartedness could save him. The moment Bond began to act like a real man in a real world, all was lost. [Roger Moore]understood that, too, but I’m not sure Dalton does.
Dalton is rugged, dark and saturnine, and speaks with a cool authority. We can halfway believe him in some of his scenes. And that’s a problem, because the scenes are intended to be preposterous. The best Bond movies always seem to be putting us on, to be supplying the most implausible and dangerous stunts in order to assure us they can’t possibly be real.“
And then, two years later, he wrote this:
„ On the basis of this second performance as Bond, Dalton can have the role as long as he enjoys it. He makes an effective Bond - lacking Sean Connery’s grace and humor, and Roger Moore’s suave self-mockery, but with a lean tension and a toughness that is possibly more contemporary. The major difference between Dalton and the earlier Bonds is that he seems to prefer action to sex. But then so do movie audiences, these days. “Licence to Kill” is one of the best of the recent Bonds.“
The inconsistency between those two opinions is jarring. Did he at any point acknowledge that his views evolved?
Yes, footnote is how I would sadly describe his position from the public’s perspective too, now you mention it. It’s an old cliche, but Dalton was ahead of his time. Saying that, though, the Bond films are shown so often (and proudly) from those channels which hold the licence, that people have plenty of opportunities to (re)discover him.
Internet chatter is also a useful way for him to get noticed, and he could even become the fashionable or respectable choice in the way that OHMSS was re-evaluated.
In fan culture, some fans are able to acquire some minor distinction by choosing a forgotten actor or story as their favourite. For example, perhaps it’s why Patrick Troughton is often cited as a favourite in the Doctor Who community. Not only was he good (a prerequisite) but he didn’t 't have the privilege of being first, and his tenure is in the slightly more inaccessible black-and-white, so therefore he’s more likely to be overlooked.
It’s an interesting opinion, and one I remember you citing before, and it would be interesting if Eon did indeed go the Dexter route. I think, though, they would’ve made it more obvious if they were anywhere near that sort of idea.
I‘m not aware of that. But Bond films per se weren‘t his thing.
I find that, in both the fifties when the books were out and much later with the films, high-brow sorts seem to insist on presenting Bond as “preposterous” and a “joke”, as though they’re laughing at anyone who takes it even slightly seriously (which is what surely must happen when watching a film, unless it’s a Naked Gun film, or else the experience would be in no way immersive).
I love the Bond films, obviously, and I don’t take them seriously (how can anyone, they are about a secret agent who always wins and survives).
But preposterous? No way. They are not a Steven Seagal c-movie affair, they are expertly made escapism.
And I take that expertise very seriously because it is hard work and always to be appreciated.
For me the question becomes: does a serious approach always lead to an immersive experience? Or put another way: is immersing oneself in an aesthetic experience the only way to take it seriously?
To be clear: I am not saying that this is an incorrect position to hold (it is one widely esteemed in Western culture). But there are aesthetics which take works of art seriously without immersion–in fact, they eschew it in favor of an equanimity of distance. My aesthetic values wabi-sabi, which emphasizes transience and incompleteness–an example would be Japanese paintings and scroll work where sections are left unfinished/unfilled (referred to as “dragon’s veins”). In cinema, think of the films of Ozu. For more details if one is interested (the entire article is excellent):
https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/japanese-aesthetics/#OzuYasuCineCuts
Depends on the aesthetic experience. Or maybe not - I can get swept away and losing myself in a Monet picture for example. Or I can take a step back and analyse the technique. Or both - and both would be a serious appreciation of the work; neither superior to the other.
An element of identification can be involved, emotional or cognitive faculties. But it probably depends what exactly the aesthetic experience aims to stimulate. A piece of music may evoke different reactions than a picture or a film; more immediate ones, closer to the bone. While a book or a film can present a degree of distance from their subject. We can appreciate a Flashman novel without identifying with the character or sharing his world view - and it still can be an immersive experience, regardless of the fact that it’s a historical satire we’re not even supposed to take seriously.
Agreed. If I am understanding BondFan correctly (and I may not be), the taking of a work of art seriously results in immersion, and for me this is an an interesting claim.
True, but then the question is identification with what/in what way? A viewer could identify with a character based on shared characteristics (psychological/ethnic/racial/historical/etc.), or with a situation a character finds herself in, or a combination of both. Also, as you note, identification might be involved, but is not necessary for immersion. Additionally, can there be in an immersion in formal properties? (Here I am thinking of possible responses to the films of Ernie Gehr, for example)
What BondFan has set me to wondering about is does serious aesthetic engagement always result in immersion, and if so, what are the qualities of immersion? It is a fascinating subject (at least for a geek like myself), and one I have dealt with in different disguises for many years.
There are, I suppose, different types of experiences which can still be interesting. If a film strives for realism, but then something ridiculous happens, it can take the viewer out of it and exclaiming, “Oh, that’s stupid!”
A fun sequence - for example, the balcony drop in TWINE - doesn’t, perhaps, elicit this as it would likely be taken in the way that it was intended.
I mentioned taking a film slightly serious, and by that I mean an attempt on the viewer’s part to take in information, follow the plot etc, and allow oneself to get drawn into the story, interested to see how it is resolved, and even excited if the plot twists into a dramatic or unexpected area. Not taking a film seriously, in my estimation, would be to sit there with a contemptuously curled lip and say, “It’s just pretend - all of it! Just a bunch of poncey actors talking made-up rubbish.”
As an example, my grandmother never really understood television (she’d refer to an episode of a studio audience sitcom as a ‘film’) and couldn’t shake the idea that these were people on a stage with cameras pointed at them. She’d say, “Isn’t it clever how they do these things?” This would baffle me, as I’d be listening to the jokes and following the story, and paying no mind to what a modern miracle technology can be.
Thanks for the clarification BF. I did not understand your binary this way. For me, sneering/curling one’s lip is not the opposite of serious/immersive appreciation, but rather of respectful viewing.
I’d say the two are very close. The curled lip thing was more of an illustration: staring at the screen, blank and baffled, would have much the same effect.