- Casino Royale Review
- Carrie (1976)
- Two-Lane Blacktop (1971)
- Trainspotting (1996)
- Rain Man (1988)
- Fatal Attraction (1987)
- Targets (1968)
- An Education (2009)
- Mirror, The (1974)
- Fargo (1996)
- Fight Club (1999)
- Do The Right Thing (1989)
- Report (1967)
- Is "The Sting" The Best Gambling Film Ever Made?
- Pink Flamingos (1972)
- Ox-Bow Incident, The (1943), Or 28 Angry Men
- Rome, Open City (1945)
- Spring in a Small Town (1948)
- Drive (2011)
- Vinyl (1965)
- Seconds (1966)
- Rosemary's Baby (1968)
- A Hollywood Invasion of Casino Halls
- Thin Man, The (1934)
- In The Heat of the Night (1967)
- All In: The Poker Movie, Player’s Best Tricks
- Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956)
- 1001 Club - Skyfall (2012)
- 1001 Club - When Harry Met Sally... (1988)
- 1001 Club - Rain Man (1988)
On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969)
James Bond
These posters are getting more flamboyantly hideous...
Bond: George Lazenby (Death Dimension • Never Too Young to Die)
Bond Girl: Tracy Di Vicenzo Played By: Diana Rigg ("The Avengers" • Evil Under the Sun)
Bond SuperVillain: Ernst Stavro Blofeld Played By: Telly Savalas (House Of Exorcism • GoBots: War of the Rock Lords)
Bond Villain: Irma Bunt Played By: Ilse Steppat (The Bridge • The Bloody Dead)
Genre: Action Adventure Romance (UK)
Directed By: Peter R. Hunt (Assassination)
Overview: When Bond turns into a big-eared oaf with a butt-chin, M finds himself so repulsed that he fires James for two weeks. Rather than living under a bridge and robbing people for money like the other trolls, Bond decides that now's as good a time as any to hunt for his arch nemesis, Ernst Stavro Blofeld... and what the hell, maybe stop his evil plot in the meantime.
That votex is coming from somewhere around the sporran...
We begin with the shittiest opening Bond credits yet, trumping even Dr. No, where instead of enhancing what we're about to experience, we're shown, through martini glasses, scenes from previous Bond films - might I go overboard and comment on the nude silhouettes: worst pair of traffic cones ever. Allow me to suggest actually getting a woman with BREASTS to model nude? Thank you.
We have in James Bond #6 the first film where he goes freelance - or better put, after 2 years of not finding the man he's looking for, Ernst Stavro Blofeld, James is reassigned and sent away on leave, where he, of course, keeps working to find the man he's looking for...Ernst Stavro Blofeld. Instead of getting Q to help him, Bond teams up with a criminal entrepreneur named Draco to point him to where his nemesis may lie, that being of course some remote mountaintop base in Switzerland. This is where Lazenby starts … being Lazenby.
Before I go jump on the bandwagon and crap all over the new Bond like everyone else, allow me to interlude with what was great about this film:
Diana Rigg
Oh yes, the previous Emma Peel of "The Avengers" and ever still so smug as Countess Teresa Di Vicenzo, Diana Rigg delivers and titillates (going so far as to bump the beautiful Tatiana from my number one spot for favourite Bond Girl.)
Then there's those two epic action scenes. Tossing scores of stuntmen at each other is a proven hit in the Bond Saga, and when one of those fights is 007 against overwhelming odds of skiers with machine guns, well that almost makes up for the weirdness.
Now back to the rant: Peter R. Hunt's direction included speeding up one-on-one fights to the point that Benny Hill music plays, I suppose the purpose of that is make these scenes look more action-packed. When that clearly doesn't work, Peter, our experienced editor of Dr. No, From Russia with Love and Goldfinger decides to go ballistic with power in the cutting room and chop up action scenes so quickly that we either sense how false they are, or we wonder how many errors were creatively covered up. The moods of all the previous Bond films were fairly similar. On Her Majesty's Secret Service stands out as one directed by someone entirely different, and not in a good way. Even James bond is wonky. Not only isn't he Connery, but he isn't all that charming. Add to this the fact that On Her Majesty's Secret Service is the first film where Bond is disguised in look and demeanour - as that of a gay man no less, and there's just something off about the whole thing. My other issue is the ginormous continuity flaw that is Blofeld not recognizing James Bond from the last film, and I'm not talking they sort of made eye contact when they passed each other that one time, I mean James was held captive by Blofeld. And where the hell is that scar gone? Telly Savalas, I call bullshit on your entire existence and the faggly way you hold a cigarette. You are not suave, you're a maniac. I want the wildcard lunatic who might just be crazy enough to spend money on chairs that electrocute people at the push of a button or pools with piranhas to make examples of failures. I want the clearly psychotic, facially traumatized Donald Pleasance version of Blofeld back. He creeps me right awesome.
What you may not know is that this film was made out of order from the original Ian Fleming novels, and the script was not changed to remedy this. It all makes sense when done backwards, but, uh, might I remind cast and crew that this isn't the world of books?
Now, you may think me a hater, so let me finish by saying that after all is said and done, I enjoyed On Her Majesty's Secret Service. There's enough action, originality and bobsled combat to keep anyone entertained, and if you can capsulate this film as it's own thing, then it won't break your brains too much.
Boooo!
Performance: 7 Cinematography: 8 Script: 7 Plot: 7 Mood: 7
Overall Rating: 72% (Majestic?)
SuperSpyStats
Personal bodycount: 5 - One of which was bare-handed!
Foiled Assassinations: 5
Near Misses: 0
Dames Bedded: 3
Martinis Drank: 1