directed by Guy Hamilton
written by Richard Maibaum and Mankiewicz
starring Sean Connery, Jill St. John, Charles Gray, Lana Wood, Putter Smith, Jimmy Dean, Bruce Cabot, Bruce Glover, Norman Burton, Bernard Lee, Desmond Llewelyn, Leonard Barr, Lois Maxwell
Excruciating luxury, dead-on black humour, and the sexual politics of power inform the seventh installment in the Bond series. Sean Connery is lured back after a brief hiatus and he brings the expected totemic aesthetic to his performance that has made the character synonymous with easy sex and all out cool.
In this story Bond is sent to Amsterdam to get to the bottom of a diamond smuggling ring. He impersonates a man named Peter Franks (Joe Robinson) and meets up with Tiffany Case (St. John). She’s initially cold which merely means Bond is going to have to step up the charm a bit more to conquer her as is his standard practice with every woman he meets. She is part of a chain and slowly the film reveals the other oddball players involved in the scheme. The film is basically about characters and showcases a collection of primary weirdos who are working together to complete their unsavory task.
Although they are universally loathed as Bond henchman, I find the homosexual duo Mr. Wint (Glover) and Mr. Kidd (Smith) to be delightfully menacing and genuinely entertaining throughout the film. They slowly set out to eliminate every one in the chain and aside from an understandable slip-up they nearly succeed. They are the source of much of the film’s morbid humour and send off each of their victims with dry puns that provide the film with a decadent swagger.
Eventually, the whole mess leads to the great Bond villain Ernst Stavro Blofeld (Gray). His employment of the diamonds is for yet another diabolical grab of ultimate power. His achievement is grand if not wholly implausible but it demonstrates a tremendous ambition regarding technology and a devious application of talents born from a type of studied winsomeness. Blofeld proves to be a quintessential foil to Bond’s essential charisma as he was in two previous films, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service and You Only Live Twice. In this film Blofeld uses a double to fool Bond on two separate occasions. He is certainly less mysterious here, more out in the open and therefore more vulnerable to any device Bond might employ to terminate him and bring an end to his reign of threatened terror.
The man about town who seems to own nearly everything of note is named Willard Whyte (Dean) and Blofeld’s been using voice recognition technology to impersonate him for years. Whyte’s mien is impressive and he represents the excesses of pure economic power and how it can easily be uprooted by a strong military force bent on domination and creating states of servitude to its infinite might. Power hungry dictators often get their way at least at first but history has proven that a stultified sex appeal ultimately leads to their unfortunate demise.
Diamonds are described and displayed as principle objects of great purity in form and substance. They are the alluring symbol of excellence that plagues mankind with an insistence that can never be stripped away. Yet they remain mere symbols here and seem to lack the sexual component that makes so many individuals purr at the very thought of being draped in their unabashed certainty. They are mere tools for a terrible plan of destruction that is more symbolic of ingenuity than anything else. Each character in the drama nonchalantly captures the enigma of the diamonds before paying dearly with their life. These diamonds start off in the mines of South Africa and work their way to the states through a number of tricky ploys that are daringly pulled off with compunction and skill. The writers of this tale end up with a rather complicated and mostly believable film replete with all the dangers one has come to expect of the Bond Franchise. Yet, there seems to be something lacking here and it mostly comes down to the chemistry between Bond and Tiffany. It just doesn’t feel like they have anything particularly vital together plus she doesn’t really do anything of note. There is something quite delectable however between Bond and Plenty O’Toole (Wood) but she’s hardly on the screen which is a crying shame. I imagine an alternative story where Plenty seduces Bond and proves to be Blofeld’s niece working hard to make Uncle proud. Still, she’s a real doll when she’s on screen and her inevitable demise has a dark erotic elegance.
Very often in this film one wonders if Bond is going to be able to throw on that terrible charm but it so often doesn’t materialize. In many ways this feels like a Bond film without Bond. The chase scene is fabulous as it involves a brilliant stunt that gives the film a legitimate jolt that carries it along for a considerable length of time. Bond is on screen for much of it but there is something decidedly lacking about how much the character is committed to the scorching scenarios playing out around him. It’s dreadful to attempt to say that perhaps Connery was walking through this one but it’s a distinct possibility.
Still, there’s quite a bit of inventive killing in this film and even Bond ends up nearly baked in a coffin being sent through the crematorium. He’s also shoved into a giant pipe on a construction site and left to scramble for his life. Indeed, it’s rather enjoyable to watch how close Bond comes to his death although one is always reminded that it’s never going to happen.
This doesn’t seem to be as sexy as previous Bond films. The only real sex appeal comes in the guise of Plenty and two bombastic hotties who guard Whyte for Blofeld. Bambi (Lola Larson) and Thumper (Trina Parks) offer a whiz bang formidability that poses a real threat to Bond’s cool. Their acrobatic maneuvers add a real kick to the film that is only too brief. I don’t honestly think the vaunted James Bond could handle either of these women because they would be all too unconquerable as potential lust objects who can be merely tossed aside as soon as the flesh cools down.
The performances in this film are all quite adequate for the Bond legacy. Sean Connery whips his magic spell and mostly gives Bond the standard flex of debonair necessity and strong arm dynamics that we all have come to expect of him. Jill St. John does what she can with a rather weak character who doesn’t live up to the other Bond women who have come before her in the canon. Charles Gray makes for a worthy adversary who is as commanding as the other Blofelds who have risen and fallen before him. He’s gamey and his movements startle and confound. Bruce Glover is a grand joy to watch as he works with Putter Smith toward wicked ends that provide the film with moments of legitimate glee. Jimmy Dean looks like an impresario with a massive bankroll and his scenes are imbued with a confidence that only comes with absurd amounts of cold hard cash.
Overall, this Bond excursion seems to lack the energy of previous films but it makes up for it with humour and an exegesis on the allure of diamonds in a variety of contexts. It doesn’t capture the thrill of the gems but it’s fairly expressive in its action sequences and how it presents its characters. The wanderings of its key henchmen are worthy of a story by themselves and each of them play off the other quite well. Ultimately, this isn’t the best of the early Bonds but it’s entertaining enough and holds the attention throughout.
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