Month: January 2016

Bond Life Lesson: When two gypsy chicks are having a throwdown over some other guy, politely ask them to stop, odds are in your favor for a threesom.

From Russia where apparently a Mexican can play a Turk, an Italian can play a Russian, and holy shit is that Quint from Jaws? The second 007 outing benefitted greatly from the success of the previous film and the obviously increased budget that afforded. The plot is far more contrived and the explosion count is easily doubled that of Dr. No.

The film opens with Quint Grant killing Bond in a hedge maze. Syke it was just a dude in a rubber mask. Actually we just want you to watch these go-go dancers for the next three minutes.

Zoom in on a chess game where SPECTRE #5 is about to lay a Boris Spassky level smackdown on his unwitting opponent. For the uninitiated SPECTRE is an organization of ex British and Soviet spies led by the feline obsessed #1. Their main goal in life is to serve as a plot device to make sure James Bond gets laid and occasionally blow some shit up.

SPECTER HR would like to welcome our new #3 who has just completed her orientation. She comes to us by way of the Soviet secret services, likes snearing, inspecting Grants abs, coercing her former comrades in to committing treason, and might just be a lesbian. Please give her a warm welcome if you see her in the hallways.

Back at MI-6 HQ M and Bond are having the following conversation:
M: Bond a Russian operative in Istanbul wants to give us a secret decoding machine.
Bond: Do I have to? I just got back from Jamaica and told my girlfriend the most convincing story about why I had to spend six months there.
M: She’s an Italian super model.
Bond: When do I leave?

Upon arriving in Istanbul, Bond meets up with Kerim Bey played by legendary Mexican actor Pedro Armendáriz. I’m assuming the call sheet simply said tan actor required, must bring his own accent. Normally when a super suave secret agent arrives in Istanbul he can assume he will be taken to the famous Turkish baths. Not our man Kerim, he takes Bond on a scenic tour of the sewers because they’ve installed the periscope from a future Connery vehicle in the Russian embassy in the hopes of catching a few up skirt shots.

As an apology for the pending dry cleaning bill Kerim takes Bond to a gypsy camp where the first course is lamb, followed by some girl on girl wrestling with grappa, and then some good old Turkish blood feud. Afterwards Bond is angry that his suit now needs both dry cleaning and a tailor. Not to worry though, one of the wrestlers is a seamstress and takes banging as trade, as long as her former enemy gets to join in as well.

After a brief stop to assassinate some guy Bond is finally able to check in to his hotel room where house keeping has conviently left a Russian dubbed Italian super model on his pillow. The take away here is that pussy acquisition in Turkey is far easier than Jamaica.

To finally kick the plot in to high gear Bond shockingly lies to his new friend with benefits, blows up the Russian embassy, steals the decoding machine, jumps aboard the Orient Express (yes that Orient Express), films a PSA about domestic violence, kicks Grant’s ass, and steals a dude’s truck. Future generations will have a hard time coming to grips with the level of grand theft auto present in early ’60’s cinema.

Since stealing a truck isn’t enough for this movie Bond is on the lookout for a boat he can aquire and thankfully finds one. Using Scotland as a stand in for the Greek Islands this movie wouldn’t be complete without cleaning up an oil spill using a flare gun. With the minimum explosion requirement having been met all that is left is for #3 to make a brief cameo in Venice to remind us all that she was in this film and for Bond to get a hand job on a gondola while the credits roll.

Bond Life Lesson: Always bring a deck of cards.

As a James Bond film, Dr. No is barely recognizable when compared to modern entries in the series. While oozing mid century modern set decorations there is a relatively low explosion count and the overall plot just isn’t contrived enough, oh wait bikini. Instead this film shows us that the most useful skill our clandestine services require is knowledge of at least two different forms of solitaire.

The story starts off with the British office in Jamaica’s radio transmission suddenly going off the air during a regularly scheduled check-in. MI-6 chief M chooses to send one of his newer double-oh agents #7, aka James Bond, to investigate. M views this as a shit assignment as well as James, but what M is truly counting on is taking advantage of the 12 week radio electronics course Bond just completed at the learning annex (I’m assuming this last bit is in a deleted scene).

Once in Jamaica Bond is greeted by the most inept kidnapper on the island who allows our hero of to make the following phone call:

Bond: Hello, Bond here did you send a car to pick me up?
The Office: Bloody hell no, why would we do that?
Bond: Just checking, the cabbies here must have ESP.

And then proceeds to hop in the car anyway to see where things go. Well for our kidnapper things don’t end well and Bond eventually makes it to the office and soon learns this is no ordinary repair call. The police have been collecting quite a few dead mid level British office staff and the local chief of police is beginning to worry what this is going to do to the tourism trade. So Bond decides to grab a smoke and a drink and investigate.

During Bond’s booze tour of the island he makes friends with the local CIA agent during a Red-Stripe product placement and learns that everyone in the area is perfectly normal except out on Crab Key where nobody wants to go because strange shit happens out there. This is suspicious enough for Bond to formulate a plan, but first decides he needs a booty call and follows some of the most complex directions to any girl’s house. Seriously folks, if it takes more than three major turns, I assure you there is closer pussy.

Sensing a trap Bond sleeps with the girl, has her abducted, and then sits down to play cards in the dark while he waits for some shit to go down. Once said shit goes down it is time to hook back up with the CIA and get this plot moving because we are over an hour in to a film titled Dr. No and have yet to meet anyone with a graduate degree, let alone a nurse practitioner.

Out on Crab Key Bond meets a walking bikini and infiltrates the local Holiday Inn. Here we have our first true teachable moment: don’t drink the in room coffee, they never give you enough creamer and it might be drugged. A few hours later at the manager’s hospitality mixer we finally get a chance to meet the infamous Dr. No, who is rather unremarkable except for the fact he’s got kickass robotic hands. But there are NASA rockets to shoot down so throwing the secret agent in the dungeon alone makes the most sense.

Spoiler: Bond escaped the dungeon. I personally didn’t see that happening, I think I was grabbing a fresh beer at the moment.

In the control room wearing the most convincing disguise ever 007 foils the plans by literally turning it up to eleven and then tripping the bad guy. In the pandemonium that follows he remembers to grab the walking bikini so that he doesn’t have to masturbate alone on a boat as the credits roll.