Let's All Jump On The "George Lazenby Was OK" Bandwagon

The title of this entry is not meant to indicate that ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE is a flawless film. But ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE is reviled with such passion by its detractors that those of us who kind of like it feel compelled to say a few words in its defence. This compulsion is made even stronger in my case, for one simple reason: I used to hate ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE.


This wasn't a Marion Ravenwood-Indiana Jones hate. My strong feelings weren't just a mask for an actual deep-seated love. It wasn't that kind of hate. I truly, truly hated this film. I found the story dull and uninvolving, the ending tacked-on and reeking of desperation, and I bemoaned the un-Sean Connery-ness of George Lazenby.

This, I think, is the critical complaint at the heart of our problems with Mr. Lazenby's lone portrayal of 007; not that he wasn't Sean Connery, but that he lacked a Connery-ness. This is actually less of a sleight on Lazenby than a criticism on the tone of the film. To put it simply, ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE was trying to do something different, and we didn't like it. Not one bit.

OHMSS (as it will be henceforth called) came on the heels of the three most successful Bond films in history: YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE (1967), THUNDERBALL (1965), and GOLDFINGER (1964). These films all follow the same general formula, in that Bond fights off a massive international conspiracy by seducing gorgeous women and eventually calling in the cavalry (Army, Navy, or ninjas). They're big-budget travelogues, and have a terrific fondness for technological gadgets (cars with ejector seats, jetpacks, and planes that come in four suitcases and are assembled by a team of white-suited technicians). If you're asked for the definitive Bond film, odds are you'll pick one of these. They capture the childhood imagination and root of the Bond phenomenon in ways that few have matched.

When Connery walked away from the franchise after YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE, the Bond producers felt they had to switch up the tone of the series as well. They brought in editor Peter Hunt to direct (a huge responsibility, given he'd never directed a film before) and approved a script that bore little resemblance to their last three efforts. Gone are the hollowed-out volcanoes and death-by-shark scenes, the seductive femme fatales and the cars with machine guns behind the headlights. In fact, the film OHMSS most resembles is FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE (1963), the second Bond film, which is often cited as one of the best spy films ever made (if not necessarily the best Bond film ever). Bond is vengeful, obsessive, and shows a contempt for authority unheard of in the call-in-the-marines days. The story, while still dealing with a megalomaniac holding the world hostage, is actually remarkably small in scale and is essentially an interpersonal story between Bond and his bride-to-be. It's notable that Bond's famous gadgets are nowhere to be seen, and Q's only scene in the film takes place at the end, where it feels like Peter Hunt has just discovered Desmond Llewelyn in a closet and rushed him to set in a bid to once again remind people that yes, this is a James Bond film.

The phrase "familiarity breeds contempt" has always struck me as half-true, and I think OHMSS is a perfect example of how this idea separates an audience from the filmmakers. The Bond team had spent six years creating very similar entertainment, and picked this moment, the departure of Connery, to radically change not only the star but the tone of their product. By contrast, audiences had experienced only six hours of sex, sun, and violence, and wanted more (bearing in mind, of course, that this was decades before home video). It reminds me of how Jerry Seinfeld expressed his reservations about acting in a movie: "You watch a movie, it's two hours; you're in a bad movie, it's two years. And that's if you're lucky!" (I hope it took considerably less than that to record the dialogue for BEE MOVIE, Jerry). For audiences in 1969, the Bond formula hadn't become familiar yet, and in this case, it wasn't familiarity, but false advertising, that bred contempt. Audiences felt like they hadn't got "a Bond movie".

Looking back on this film, with forty years' worth of ski chases and frogmen with spear guns, this exact same feeling lends OHMSS a uniqueness, and a new value. The story basically takes place on the fringe of government activity (and legality), making the story more personal and immediate to Bond, and the character of Tracey is one of the few '60s Bond girls with a personality that requires more than one sentence to describe (although it wouldn't take too many more than that). The fight scenes have a violence to them that Hunt's keen editorial eye has clearly crafted to maximum impact. And it is still the only Bond film where James Bond cries.

Not that the film is perfect; the fight scenes often use sped-up film, which has not aged well (in one particularly egregious scene, a fight on a beach, the waves seem to be coming in faster than the punches); Telly Savalas' accent and phallic handling of cigarettes is incredibly distracting; and the attempt to make Bond sympathetic to the counter-culture of the '60s come off as weak and half-hearted.

If you nodded vigorously to this last paragraph, but felt unsure about the rest of it, check out ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE again. You might be surprised at how interesting the film is, especially if, like me, you find yourself liking the exact things you remember loathing. Maybe it just depends on what you count as "familiar", and if you're feeling particularly contemptuous.

One thing's sure, though: this bandwagon is getting full.