The Many Lives of James Bond
Page 29
Across the Moore and Dalton eras as well as in the final Connery film, the Bond Girl is positioned as an “American Sidekick” (1971–1989). In addition to being romantic interests, these Bond Girls are often depicted as American ally agents or professionals who effectively replace CIA agent Felix Leiter as Bond’s American ally in the films. During this era, the Bond Girl and/or her corresponding actress tends to be American and represents American geopolitical interests in the film.12 Much like the English partner, she plays a supportive role to Bond in the mission.
In the 1990s, the Bond Girl shifts into a third phase and is depicted as an Action-Hero Bond Girl (1995–2002). This shift coincides with the rise of women as action heroes in Hollywood blockbusters. These women are depicted as being intellectual, physical, and sexual matches to Bond, if not superior in these regards.13 In GoldenEye, Bond relies entirely on Natalya Simonova’s knowledge of computer programming; while she provides “the brains,” he takes care of “the brawn.” In Tomorrow Never Dies, Wai Lin is trained in martial arts, appears in her own action sequence, and arguably outfights and outshines Bond in every scene they share. Finally, in Die Another Day, Jinx Johnson challenges, if not dominates, Bond in bed during their initial sexual encounter.
Since the mid-2000s, the Bond Girl concept has been reworked. The qualities typically associated with the figure have been distributed across two different characters. In Casino Royale, they are divided between Vesper Lynd (who is depicted as a Bond Girl Villain) and James Bond (who is presented as a Bond–Bond Girl hybrid). A similar division occurs in Quantum of Solace between Camille Montes (who serves as a platonic partner) and the late Vesper Lynd (whose memory is frequently evoked through the Algerian knot necklace and the martini). In Skyfall, it is M who is framed through the conventions of the Bond Girl, and she is depicted as an M–Bond Girl hybrid. According to Christopher Holliday, her depiction recalls the English Partner Bond Girls of the 1960s.14 The only woman who appears as a Bond Girl proper is Madeleine Swann in Spectre, and she drives away with Bond at the end of the film, presumably to continue their relationship. Although the Bond Girl concept has been reworked in the Craig era, it ultimately reverts back to a traditional model of femininity in the franchise.
In my essay in For His Eyes Only, I argue that Severine is one of the most tragic and disempowered women in the entire Bond franchise. She is depicted “as a disposable object of pleasure and struggle between two white men and the identity of Severine is defined solely in terms of her relationships with Bond and Silva. She has limited dialogue, little to no personal agency, and… her role could be entirely eliminated from the film without significantly altering the storyline.”15 Regressive in its depiction of women, Skyfall is a good example of why it is important not to make assumptions about gender progress and explore the actual depiction of women in the films.
Who is the quintessential Bond Girl in the films and why?
Honey Ryder from Dr. No is the quintessential Bond Girl, as she is the first and helped to establish the archetype. Although the 1960s Bond films are not as formulaic, Ryder set the standard for female representation, and subsequent Bond Girls are depicted with similar personality traits (such as independence and intelligence) and images (such as being costumed in bathing suits or lingerie). In fact, Ryder is memorable for her introduction into the film—emerging from the sea wearing a white bikini with a dagger attached at the hip. This arresting image of Ryder is iconic in the franchise. Moreover, her introduction has been referenced in two subsequent Bond films: to introduce Bond Girl Jinx Johnson in Die Another Day on the fortieth anniversary of the film series and to depict Daniel Craig’s Bond in Casino Royale. These intertextual references draw attention to just how iconic Ryder is as a Bond Girl.
Who is the archetypal Bond Girl in Fleming’s novels?
The Bond Girl concept was not defined in Fleming’s novels in the same (formulaic) way that it has been in the Bond films. Bond typically works alongside a “girl” in each novel, with a few exceptions like Goldfinger, in which Bond engages with Tilly Masterson and Pussy Galore at the same time (as opposed to the film, in which Masterson is killed before Galore is introduced). However, the quintessential Bond Girl of the novels is Honeychile Rider in Dr. No. On numerous occasions, Bond expresses his deep attraction to Rider and especially for her independence. Although he is sympathetic to her backstory—from the death of her parents to her subsequent rape—he is also impressed by her local and self-taught knowledge, which he relies on throughout the mission. Unlike some of the previous novels with such memorable women as Vesper Lynd in Casino Royale, Gala Brand in Moonraker, and Tatiana Romanova in From Russia, with Love, Dr. No ends on a positive note with Bond in the loving arms of Rider.
What did the welcome addition of Judi Dench’s M reveal about Bond’s character?
The casting of Judi Dench as M helped to shift the gender dynamics of the franchise. GoldenEye was the first film to convey the notion that the world around Bond had changed (over the six-year hiatus in the series) in terms of its gender politics and geo-politics. The film questions if the world still needs Bond and his old-fashioned ideas and approaches. It is Dench’s M who most clearly articulates this when she refers to Bond as a “sexist, misogynist dinosaur” and “a relic of the Cold War” during their first meeting in her office. In the Brosnan-era films, it is M who explicitly draws attention to Bond’s shifting and somewhat uncertain relationships with women. For example, in GoldenEye alone, Bond is (jokingly) accused of sexual harassment by Miss Moneypenny, is frequently yelled at by Natalya Simonova (e.g., “Do something! Get us out of here!”), and is almost killed during a sexual encounter with Xenia Onatopp, who asphyxiates men with her legs while they have sex. It is Dench’s M who informs both Bond and the audience that the gendered landscape has changed (in addition to geopolitics). This sets the stage for Bond to prove why Britain specifically and the world more generally still need him.
Did Brosnan’s Bond and Craig’s Bond have the same relationship with Dench’s M?
The nature of their relationship changes with the maternal positioning of M in the Craig-era films. This is a topic that is addressed in detail in For His Eyes Only in “Section 6: Judi Dench’s Tenure As M.” In Skyfall, most explicitly, the relationship between M and Bond is framed in mother-son terms. As noted by Peter C. Kunze, Skyfall “perpetuates the ‘M as mother’ interpretation: her agents addressing her as ‘Ma’am’ can almost be heard as ‘Mom,’ and when Silva bombs MI6 headquarters—her symbolic home—M must take charge to protect her subordinates/children.”16 Lori Parks contends that “the dynamic that Silva sets up between himself and Bond is of competitive brothers vying for their mother’s attention and affection…. Silva is presented to us as deranged, broken, effeminate, and ultimately second best (this is even referenced in his name Silva/Silver)”17 in comparison to Bond, who is M’s “golden child.” According to Michael Boyce, “the representation of M as mother culminates in Skyfall when Bond takes her to his childhood home… [where] M allows Bond to settle the unresolved ‘childhood trauma’ Silva mentioned.”18 The maternal repositioning of M fundamentally changes her relationship with Bond, especially since she strongly rejects serving as a surrogate mother to her agents in the Brosnan era.19
Daniel Craig’s Bond, while as physically tough and masculine as any Bond, is also one of the most emotionally vulnerable and sensitive.
Casino Royale presents the origin story of James Bond from the moment he attains his license to kill. As a revisionist film, it deconstructs the Bond genre and reworks many of the characteristic elements in the process of rebranding the franchise. In my article “I Know Where You Keep Your Gun,” I argue for a new heroic model in the Craig-era films—the Bond–Bond Girl hybrid—that is informed by Hollywood heroic masculinity and Bond Girl iconography.20 On one hand, Casino Royale places consistent and explicit emphasis “on Daniel Craig’s exposed muscular torso rather than his sexuality, libido, and conquest.”21 He is the most
battered and bloodied Bond in history, and the film’s predilection for body-focused (rather than sexually oriented) imagery aligns him more strongly with Hollywood models of muscular masculinity than the lover literary tradition from which he has his roots. On the other hand, Casino Royale presents Bond through iconic Bond Girl iconography when he emerges twice from the sea in a bathing suit, an image that recalls the introduction of quintessential Bond Girl Honey Ryder in Dr. No. As a result, there is no Bond Girl proper in the film, as characteristics of this figure have been divided between Vesper Lynd (who is presented as a Bond Girl Villain) and Bond (who is presented as a Bond–Bond Girl hybrid).22 This results in a hero who “is simultaneously active and passive, masculine [i.e., tough] and feminine [i.e., emotional], British and American, and Bond and Bond Girl.”23
There’s a moment in Casino Royale where Craig’s Bond, who is wearing a tuxedo for the first time, admires himself in the mirror. What’s your take on that moment?
In Casino Royale, Bond is presented as the object of the (female) gaze occupied by Vesper Lynd. Lynd literally “sizes him up” to order Bond a custom tuxedo and then catches him looking at himself in the mirror seemingly impressed by the results. The scene relays a shift in gender roles and representations uncommon to the franchise. It also recalls the way in which Lynd figuratively “sizes him up” on the train:
By the cut of your suit, you went to Oxford or wherever. Naturally, you think human beings dress like that. But you wear it with such disdain, my guess is you didn’t come from money, and your school friends never let you forget it. Which means that you were at that school by the grace of someone else’s charity, hence the chip on your shoulder. And since your first thought about me ran to “orphan,” that’s what I’d say you are.
Lynd offers insight into the personal history of Bond and informs him (as well as the audience) of how “green” he is on his first Double-O mission. However, this tuxedo scene depicts the transformation of Bond as he discovers that he not only looks good in a tailored suit but he looks the part. In a visual media like film, internal changes are often signaled externally through changes in costuming as well as behaviors and mannerisms. It is not simply the suit but the way in which Bond wears the suit that draws attention to his self-realization that he belongs at the card table and can be successful. This is the moment when Bond starts to get his mojo as a superspy.
There are a few instances in which the Bond Girl doesn’t sleep with Bond. How does not sleeping with him impact our understanding of their character?
There are a number of “Bond Girls” who do not sleep with Bond onscreen, but their films still imply that sexual intimacy will be likely in the future. This has an impact on the way that their characters are depicted and interpreted. For example, in Tomorrow Never Dies, Wai Lin’s rejection of Bond’s advances strengthens her heroic competency by freeing her from the sexual/sexualized expectations of the Bond Girl. The same can be said about Melina Havelock in For Your Eyes Only, as a sexual encounter would detract from her mission to avenge the murder of her parents. However, in the case of Pam Bouvier in Licence to Kill, it appears to have the opposite effect, as she spends most of the film pining away for Bond only to have him choose her after sleeping with Lupe Lamora. The same is true of Anya Amasova, in The Spy Who Loved Me, whose effectiveness as an agent diminishes after she sleeps with Bond.
The only film in which Bond parts ways with a female partner without the suggestion of future sexual/romantic intimacy is Quantum of Solace. Bond is still clearly in love with Vesper Lynd and cannot commit emotionally to Camille Montes (even though he sleeps with Strawberry Fields). Unlike his romances with Lin and Have-lock, which seem forced and contrived as afterthoughts, Quantum of Solace does not push the issue with Montes. Instead, she walks away from Bond, having avenged her family and taking out a threat to her people in Bolivia. This is reminiscent of Gala Brand in Ian Fleming’s novel Moonraker, who does not end up with Bond, as she is engaged to another man. Quantum of Solace inverts this dynamic by having Bond be the one who is emotionally/romantically unavailable (so as not to show him being rejected).
Bond will sleep with almost anyone he can. However, Bond doesn’t pursue Moneypenny (although it’s possible that they consummated their relationship in Skyfall). Why doesn’t Bond sleep with Moneypenny? Is that an odd form of respect for her?
The nature of Bond’s professional yet flirtatious relationship with Moneypenny was first outlined by Ian Fleming in relation to Loelia Ponsonby, the personal secretary to Bond and other Double-O agents. Fleming describes her as a patriot who has committed her life to the service rather than to a family and should be held in high regard for this. Even though Bond describes Ponsonby as being very beautiful, he understands that she is not romantically available. This dynamic was subsequently shifted over to Moneypenny, who is the personal assistant to M.
The franchise presents a similar impression that marriage is not sustainable for James Bond and other secret agents. This is relayed in both the novels and the films. For example, in Fleming’s Diamonds Are Forever, Bond explains why he has little interest in marriage: “Matter of fact I’m almost married already. To a man. Name begins with M. I’d have to divorce him before I tried marrying a woman. And I’m not sure I’d want that.”24 He then comments on fatherhood: “Like to have some [children]…. But only when I retire. Not fair on the children otherwise. My job’s not all that secure.”25 Marriage becomes a central issue in the film On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, which ends with Bond marrying Tracy di Vicenzo and resigning from the service. She is murdered shortly after by the henchwoman Irma Bunt, and Bond returns to work in Diamonds Are Forever without any mention of him being a widower. Licence to Kill offers a similar depiction of the dangers of marriage (particularly for a bride who weds a secret agent). The film opens with CIA agent Felix Leiter marrying Della Churchill, who is murdered on their wedding night by the crew of the villain that Leiter had just arrested. As Stephen Nepa explains, the Bond franchise presents the impression that marriage is unsustainable for a secret agent as it “put[s] at risk not only the Bond Girl but all of MI6; Bond simply cannot divide his attention between his responsibilities to the queen (his first and primary love/wife) and his potential domestic responsibilities to the Bond Girl.”26 As a result, these brides, as well as the women Bond deeply loves (like Paris Carver in Tomorrow Never Dies, Vesper Lynd in Casino Royale, and M in Skyfall), are destined to die as they distract/pull Bond away from the service.
Has there been a Bond Girl who is truly an “equal” to Bond? And what does it mean to be an “equal” within the context of these films?
Wai Lin in Tomorrow Never Dies offers the most equitable match to Bond and she is depicted in the film as his Chinese counterpart. She is a trained superspy and secret agent of equal rank. She is just as intelligent as Bond, following the same clues and arriving at the same conclusions and destinations as he. She is equally courageous, as she is willing to put herself in harm’s way for the mission. And yet she also appears to be superior in physical and emotional terms. Lin is formally trained in martial arts, and she physically outshines Bond in all the action scenes that they share. During the motorcycle sequence, it is Lin who maneuvers from the back to the front of the bike to provide him with information; she does all of the physical labor while Bond remains stationary and steers. Unlike Bond, Lin does not get swept up by her emotions (as he does with Paris Carver). She remains focused on the task at hand and rejects Bond’s sexual advances. Finally, as Stephanie Jones notes, it is Bond who is positioned as “the butt of several sight gags in which technologically enhanced objects act as booby-traps and threaten his life.”27 In a reversal of tradition, it is Bond who is taken down a notch by a female agent.
Although Lin is presented as an equitable if not superior agent, she appears onscreen for only (the latter) half of the film. On one hand, Bond’s romantic and sexual relationship with Paris Carver is the focus of the first half of Tomorrow Never Dies. This
frees Lin from the romantic and sexual expectations of the Bond Girl (since the film already has its quota), thus granting her increased heroic agency. On the other hand, Lin’s role has to be limited so as not to overshadow Bond, who is the central figure in the film—it is called a Bond film, after all. By limiting her time onscreen and depicting Bond saving her in the end (with his “mouth-to-mouth” doubling as their first kiss), the film strips away some of her agency and reaffirms some of the traditional gender roles in the franchise—albeit somewhat unconvincingly.
What should Bond fans keep in mind as they continue to think about this issue?
Female characterization appears more complex and nuanced when we move away from the colloquial descriptor “Bond Girl” and begin to explore the diversity of women in the franchise.
APPENDIX: QUOTABLE BOND
I was not able to interview every actor who has played James Bond. But their insights are valuable, so I have compiled the following sourced quotes in which some of the notable performers discuss their work and reflect on their contribution to the Bond legacy.