Being James Bond (Baillie Walsh, 2021)

It is hard to believe this is almost the end. Unlike most of his predecessors, Daniel Craig is definitively leaving the role of James Bond. As part of the run up to the release of No Time To Die later this year, AppleTV have released this documentary, which provides - in Craig's own voice - a summation and a farewell to the last 15 years.

Fittingly, the project is directed by Baillie Walsh, a filmmaker who previously directed Craig in Flashbacks of a Fool, a film about a Hollywood star reckoning with his past. 

Combining clips from his films, news stories and footage, the documentary is structured around an audio round-table discussion between Craig and producers Barbara Broccoli and Michael G. Wilson. 

It is good to hear their voices, at ease, but initially I had misgivings - the whole thing felt like a press kit: we get a potted history of his films, with a highlight reel of the key moments: the initial backlash to his casting, the writers' strike that affected Quantum, and the 'slash my wrists' comment.  

While there are some anecdotes about specific aspects of each production, the focus is on Craig and how it felt in the eye of the storm. It is a good angle for a documentary - Craig has a reputation as a reticent interviewee, so part of the appeal here is getting to hear him talk off the cuff. Almost.

I think the presence of the Broccolis made me weary for about the first half of the documentary. They are the controllers of the franchise, and combined with the familiarity of the content, I could not shake off the sense that this film was a covert puff piece. It was an underlying frustration because what Craig talks about, in terms of how it felt in the moment, is really illuminating.

Despite my initial misgivings, the film did get to me. And how could it not?

Craig won me over in a way that previous actors never had. No other Bond actor could have been in that shower cradling Eva Green, or breaking down in that wicker chair. I had always been a Bond fan, but Craig’s portrayal - armoured yet exposed - made me invest in the character in a way that previous iterations had never aimed or asked for. 

Craig may not like interviews, but I have always enjoyed his honesty and passion for his work. I feel like this documentary’s most lingering impact may be the way that it lets him express himself. He comes across as humble and self-effacing, and he seems to bring out the best in the Broccolis - this is the most animated I have ever heard them.

A lot has been made of Craig's physicality, but this documentary focuses on how the actor’s involvement in the stunt work has taken a toll. The moment that unsettled me the most was a behind-the-scenes shot from Quantum of Solace. In the clip, we watch Craig leap across a rooftop on a wire and slam into a balcony on the other side of the street. This moment stands out because in the finished film, it is failed by the film’s frenetic editing. Seeing Craig perform this action in an uninterrupted wide shot was exhilarating and excruciating in equal measure. 

The film is at its best in these moments when pulls back the curtain a bit. I am sure this shot has been used before, it was one of the first moments where I began to come around on the film.

By the time we get to No Time To Die, the sense of time really hit home. Craig has been the face of the franchise for 15 years -  longer than any other performer, and a lot longer than I thought he would last. 

That sense of accumulated history, injuries, setbacks and comebacks, gives the behind-the-scenes snippets from Bond 25 a genuine sense of pathos. Particularly haunting is the filming of Craig’s final shot - running around a streetcar, vanishing out of sight. The camera lingers on the empty street, letting his absence sink in. 

This moment is the prelude to the film’s standout sequence - Craig’s heartfelt speech to cast and crew. Watching this performer, still in the tux of his most famous role, well up as he thanks everyone who helped make him Bond, is the highpoint of the film. How ever No Time To Die ends, it will be nigh-on impossible to replicate this goodbye.

Will this be Craig’s final word on his involvement in the franchise? I hope not.

Coming out of Being James Bond, I would have liked to hear more from Craig, but perhaps that kind of introspection would require distance, both in time, and proximity from the Eon brains.

It is definitely worth checking out, but it feels like the teaser for a deeper examination of the ‘Daniel Craig story’.

If you are new to this blog, I also co-host a podcast on James Bond, The James Bond Cocktail Hour.

You can subscribe on iTunes, or wherever you get your podcasts. 

No Time To Die (Billie Eilish, 2020)

I love this song. 

Regardless of its relationship with the movie, I cannot stop listening to it.

I am a fan of surprises in the James Bond franchise. In recent memory, there have been few surprises in terms of the people warbling over the titles. When Billie Eilish was announced, I thought we were in for something new.  

When the song was released last year, I went on Youtube to listen to it. I remember my initial reaction was a bit negative. It sounded like an extension of Adele and Sam Smith's songs - slow, dark and mournful.

But then I listened to it again. And again. And eventually I had to buy the song because I kept replaying it so many times. It really caught me.  

Overall, I love the slow burn of it. It is incredibly well-paced. There is no point in the song where it hits a dead spot or goes on too long. And when it finally crescendos, it ends. 

The song is remarkably dense and yet it clocks in at just over four minutes.

Every time I listen to it, I dig its minimalism - the sprinkle of muted trumpet and vibes - and the atmosphere it creates. There is so much space in the song that it forces you to concentrate on the details. 

I love the piano part, particularly the section under the line ‘Fool me once...’, and the way Johnny Marr’s guitar weaves in and out with Eillish’s vocal.

While there is a vague similarity to the last couple songs, ‘No Time To Die’ manages to sound Bondian without coming off like a pastiche - which makes the overt quoting of the familiar theme feel unnecessary. I like the muted trumpet piece early in the song, but  that final guitar strum really sticks out. 

Having over a year to listen to the song, I really like what the song is doing thematically, in terms of Bond’s masculinity. 

Following the trend of Craig’s tenure, Eilish appears to be singing from Bond's perspective. 

Back in 2006, Chris Cornell was chosen to sing the song because Composer David Arnold wanted a more masculine voice to represent this new Bond. More recently, Sam Smith’s ‘Writing’s On The Wall’ also took the position of Bond’s inner voice, While economics probably played a major part in their hirings, the presence of a queer non-binary person (Smith) and a cis woman (Eillish) as Craig-Bond’s musical inner voice feels like a thematic evolution that the films have yet to replicate. 

Now for a tangent: One of my favorite aspects of Casino Royale was the way it re-positioned Bond in terms of his physicality and sexual prowess, two key traits associated with Bond’s masculinity. A key example is after his near castration in the torture sequence. In recovery, Bond says to Vesper, “Whatever I am, whatever is left of me, I’m yours.” This has been pointed out by many people already, but in essence, Bond is saying that he is not defined by his phallus. Another scene I always point to is the earlier scene where he sits in the shower with Vesper and gives her comfort. There is an empathy to the character, and a willingness to evolve, particularly in his relationships with women, that I had never seen before. 

After Casino, I have felt that reshaping of Bond’s masculinity has never really progressed. To tie it back to the song, I hope that Billie Eillish’s song represents a musical extension of Craig-Bond’s portrayal in No Time To Die.

If you are new to this blog, I also co-host a podcast on James Bond, The James Bond Cocktail Hour. 

You can subscribe on iTunes, or wherever you get your podcasts.

The Death of Superman Lives - What Happened? (Jon Schnepp, 2015)

In the mid-nineties, Tim Burton and Nicholas Cage signed on to make a new version of Superman, Superman Lives.

This is the story of that film's un-making.

One of the fun things about getting interested in filmmaking, is learning about unmade projects. Disney's collaboration with Salvador Dali. Vincent Ward's Alien 3. Paul Verhoeven's Crusade. Sean Connery's stab at a rogue Bond production, Warhead. When I was younger, Superman Lives was one of the unmade projects that I gravitated towards - I saw the concept art of Superman in a Borg-style suit and it captured my imagination.

I was one of many people fascinated by this idea. One of those people, Jon Schnepp, went ahead and made a documentary about it. I remember contributing some money when the project was being crowdfunded.

The Death of Superman Lives is an opportunity to tell the full story, from most of the people who contributed towards it, from the various screenwriters (Kevin Smith, Wesley Strick and Dan Gilroy) through the various members of the production and, most significantly, Tim Burton. Burton is one of the ingredients which makes the promise of Superman Lives so fascinating, and the documentary needed to include him to justify its existence. 

While I was familiar with the broad strokes of the story - particularly the Kevin Smith era - it is hard not to get caught up in the story, and a lot of its impact is the material that has never been seen before, at least to the degree that it is here.

Alongside the Burton interview, the holy grail of the documentary is the footage of Nicholas Cage and Burton talking through the character while going through costume fittings. There is something magical about movies, and this footage captures a little of the alchemy of this collaboration that never was.

The cumulative effect of this test footage, the storyboards, design work and talking heads is intoxicating. I have not really cared that much about Superman Lives in years, but I left the documentary with a fresh sense of disappointment that some version of the story was never finished. 

In his pitch for Kickstarter, Schnepp talked about Superman Lives as a missed opportunity - at the least it could have been a curiosity, a failed experiment that bucked the established conventions and expectations of the genre. Since the documentary came out, the superhero genre has calcified. It is everywhere. That context gives The Death of Superman Lives a poignancy that it did not have before. 

An oddity that never was, Jon Schnepp’s documentary goes a long way to preserving Superman Lives in all its weird, unfinished glory.

If you are new to this blog, I also co-host a podcast on James Bond, The James Bond Cocktail Hour.

You can subscribe on iTunes, or wherever you get your podcasts. 

BITE-SIZED REVIEW: The Relic (Peter Hyams, 1997)

Something is prowling the floors of the Field Museum of Natural History in Chicago. 

It eats brains. It falls to a sceptical scientist (Penelope Ann Miller) and a superstitious cop (Tom Sizemore) to hunt it down before it turns visitors and staff into cervelle de veau (brains).

I am not the biggest fan of Peter Hyams’ work. Mostly because I can barely see what is going on in any of his movies.

I like that he wants to create an atmosphere by using a lot of darkness and shadows in his compositions, but he is too dark. There are scenes in his movies where I just cannot see anything and the mood dissipates. 

That being said, I think his aesthetic mostly works for this particular outing. There is an overlit quality to a lot of late nineties genre movies, and The Relic feels like a response to this trend.

That being said, I wish he was a little more judicious in how he deployed it. Once the third act got going, I noticed more over-cutting and a lot of key scenes were composed mostly of close-ups, which made it even harder to figure out where people were in relation to the beast.

The creature itself is a nasty customer - a combination of animatronics and computer-generated imagery, it is legitimately terrifying. Hyams’ obsession with shrouding the frame in darkness is an asset for the CGI.

In its favour, the movie manages to build tension for roughly the first two thirds - while the script is nothing special, in terms of setting the stage for the beast's final rampage, it is pretty effective. The cross-cutting between the opening of the exhibit and the police searching through the building to find the creature is one of the best sequences in the film.

While it works as a monster mash, the movie does have a certain coldness that I have been trying to figure out. It is an issue I have with Hyams' movies. While the movie has characters, I never care about any of them, or their deaths. It always feels like figurines being moved around a board. That hollowness makes the film's uglier elements stand out more: the big one is the minor antagonist Greg Lee (Chi Muoi Lo) - he is the only Asian member of the cast, and he is just a greedy, cowardly stereotype. 

The movie has gained a cult following, and it is easy to see why. With its familiar plot mechanics and very archetypal characters, it reads like a monster movie template from an earlier era - for better and worse.

Viewed through the prism of 2021, it is refreshing to see a genre movie set in a lived-in location - the museum and underground tunnels are great, if under-lit - and the judicious use of CGI means the movie's horrors remain tangible.

The Relic is not great but that is okay. It has modest aspirations, and mostly succeeds at achieving them - you just need to up the brightness and draw the curtains if you want to see them.

If you are new to this blog, I also co-host a podcast on James Bond, The James Bond Cocktail Hour. 

You can subscribe on iTunes, or wherever you get your podcasts. 

Angel Heart (Alan Parker, 1987)

1955. Down-on-his-luck private eye Harry Angel (Mickey Rourke) is hired by the mysterious Louis Cyphre (Robert De Niro) to track down a missing man, Johnny Favourite.

The trail of clues is soon strewn with corpses as Favourite's former acquaintances start dying. Will Harry soon join them?

A stylish excuse to indulge in the tropes of classic noir, Angel Heart is a movie that keeps bubbling back into my brain. I have only watched it once before, and on this viewing it became clear that I had forgotten most of the plot and the characters.

A major reason is because this movie is not really about its story - I mean, it is to the extent that it needs a coat hanger to hold up its stylised evocation of 1955 America.

A lot of this movie’s effect is based on its twist - if you figure it out or, like me, knew it ahead of time, I am not sure there is much going on to keep you interested.

But there is something about it.

There is a chill to this movie that I cannot shake - part of it comes from the feeling that this movie is just an excuse for the filmmakers to indulge in the time period (both real and reel). But there is something unsettling about it. 

I had the benefit of a fresh pair of eyes on this recent viewing, and I got the feeling from our post-op discussion that the movie does not work as a typical genre piece.

The movie it reminded me of the most was Blade Runner. It combines noir with the visual trademarks of noir. They both deal with similar themes: the androids’ desire to prolong their lives pair nicely with Angel Heart’s fugitive trying to outrun a bargain with the devil.

Both films also feature dense mise-en-scene - with Angel Heart, it is the fifties. While it certainly adds some visual interest, there was a point midway through the film where I started to get impatient with all the contemporary references - it feels like the filmmakers are trying to pass a social studies exam. 

Not to come off repetitive, but this movie does not have much going on beyond its big twist. Rourke is great in the lead - he is totally believable as a slightly scummy private eye, and his final breakdown is well-handled. But aside from follow the clues and interview suspects, I felt like this movie was missing something else.

This movie is in love with its setting, but it does not have anything to say about it. Like most neo noir, it is just interested with the style of the genre, rather than adding anything new about the genre, the time period or anything. Classic noir was plugged into the world it was made in - Angel Heart is a good-looking facsimile.

For new viewers who are not interested in the period or the genre-blending, Angel Heart is probably not that engrossing. But I would be lying if I did not add myself to the company of people who find it interesting.

If you are new to this blog, I also co-host a podcast on James Bond, The James Bond Cocktail Hour. 

You can subscribe on iTunes, or wherever you get your podcasts. 

BITE-SIZED REVIEW: Deep Rising (Stephen Sommers, 1998)

On the maiden voyage of the massive cruise ship the Argonautica, guests are partying like there is no tomorrow. 

What most of them do not know is that someone is sabotaging the control system, a boatload of mercenaries are headed their way and something massive is rising from the depths toward the hull. 

Where in the world is Stephen Sommers?

Deep Rising is so much fun. It is not trying to be anything more than an entertaining monster movie.

Right from the beginning, there is a sense of excitement and adventure.

 

Part of the movie’s charm is what a grab bag of ingredients the movie is. We get a futuristic cruise ship, pirates with hand-held mini-guns and gruesome monsters. And while the tone is light, the movie is not overburdened with lame quips or easy observational lines. 

The visual effects for the creature have aged, but Sommers takes his time revealing them - it is a pity that he fell down the rabbit hole of CGI because when he has to rely on traditional filmmaking techniques, there is a real sense of craft to his work.

The film is always moving, and it never feels repetitive - the filmmakers have a lot of fun utilising different parts of the ship for the various set pieces.

The only real issue with the movie is miscasting - Treat Williams is a nice guy. You know him from Everwood and other things you caught at noon on a rainy Sunday. I know he has done darker material, but Williams is so even-keeled he does not read as an action hero.

While he is not detrimental to the movie - the lack of star does make the movie feel like more of an ensemble piece - I could not stop thinking about how this movie would play with Kurt Russell. 

Harrison Ford was apparently who they wanted, but this character felt like a water-version of Jack Burton (Big Trouble in Little China). With this movie’s goofy tone, he would feel right at home.

The rest of the cast is ridiculously overly-qualified: among the faces you will recognise are Wes Studi, Famke Janssen, Djimon Hounsou, Cliff Curtis and Jason Flemying. No one seems to be phoning it in, which helps. Most of these people were early in their careers/lower profile so if you have not seen it before, there are some surprises to the sequence of deaths.

Recurring Sommers collaborator Kevin O’Connor is grating as the comic relief - he works better in The Mummy, where he has the benefit of playing a minor antagonist.

I remember watching this movie on TV as a kid and being absolutely terrified. On this viewing, the movie is still really entertaining. The script is an excuse to string deaths together, but it does so with speed, imagination and pilfering from the Jaws book of suspense.

This movie is the best kind of junk food. If you can find it streaming or in a discount bin at a second-hand store, it is worth a watch.

If you are new to this blog, I also co-host a podcast on James Bond, The James Bond Cocktail Hour. 

You can subscribe on iTunes, or wherever you get your podcasts. 

BITE-SIZED REVIEW: Just Cause (Arne Glimcher, 1995)

Paul Armstrong (Sean Connery) is a university lecturer who has made his name for his opposition to capital punishment. 

This background leads him to becoming involved in the case of a young black man, Bobby Earl Ferguson (Blair Underwood), who is facing the death penalty for the death of a young white girl. 

As he begins his investigation, Armstrong finds himself locking horns with the officer who arrested Bobby Earl, Tanny Brown (Laurence Fishburne).

Released in 1995, Just Cause is basically flotsam in the wake of Silence of the Lambs. With an all-star cast, on the tin it looks like a classy thriller with a smidge of social conscience about the prison industrial complex. 

I caught this movie on Netflix, and based on the above qualities, I thought I was in for a solid but maybe predictable thriller. 

But then the movie keeps going.

This movie is a grab bag of plot twists which render it completely pointless - there is a particular character reveal halfway through the movie which should completely change the central character’s  involvement in the case - but it only serves as the set up to the hammiest of third act turns.   

The southern locations are merely set dressing. In fact everything in this movie is set dressing. 

The cast are fine - aside from Ed Harris, who goes WAY too big as an imprisoned serial killer who might hold a clue to the truth. The only person who seems genuinely engaged is Laurence Fishburne, but even he is brought down by this sinkhole of a script.

This movie falls into a subgenera of movies that equate outrageous plot twists with drama. But what works about a major plot twist is that it completely changes the character and viewer’s understanding of what is going on. Here, the story never feels like it is moving in any particular direction. And when things do happen, you do not really care because none of it really matters.

Just Cause feels like it is teasing better movies: police brutality, white saviours who cannot follow through with their politics, even the thorny dynamic of having the (potential) real antagonist be a black officer. This movie does not care to delve into anything - the only idea it has is to redo the final twist of Jagged Edge. 

By the third act, the movie starts to feel like thriller mad libs. Or a really shitty improv show where the joke is that they have to use all the thriller cliches. 

The movie does not even look that interesting - there is an aggressive banality to the way this movie is shot and edited that dissipates whatever atmosphere the story is building. In that respect, it is not that different to most of the original product Netflix releases. 

According to IMDb, this movie was the result of a power movie by agent Mike Ovitz - his client Arne Gilmchear, an art dealer-turned-filmmaker, wanted to make a movie and Ovitz packaged Just Cause for him, complete with a star, his client Sean Connery. Apparently this was sold to the studio without Connery’s knowledge.

I’m not sure how that worked out, but this movie does feel like a contractual obligation.

If you are new to this blog, I also co-host a podcast on James Bond, The James Bond Cocktail Hour. 

You can subscribe on iTunes, or wherever you get your podcasts.