Bond of Today: How Has The Franchise Endured for Sixty Years?

For over sixty years, James Bond has been killing, seducing, drinking, and quipping on cinema screens to the delight of generations of viewers who have enjoyed watching him do so. However, in these past six decades Bond has seen much change and, as Jim Leach writes in The James Bond Phenomenon: A critical reader, “The future of the Bond phenomenon must be in some doubt after the terrorist attacks of 11 September 2001.” (2009, P.301) It is the intention of this essay to analyse how the Bond franchise has adapted in a post 9/11 world whilst retaining its core identity. I will be looking at how attitudes toward national identity have changed over the decades and how they reflect the notions of good and evil. This essay will also analyse key scholarship by writers such as Monica Germanà, Estella Tincknell, as well as Karen Brooks and Lisa Hill to understand better how masculinity in Bond has evolved along with attitudes towards women. By studying these changes, we will also see what remains consistent throughout all twenty-seven Bond films.

         James Bond, being the most proficient operative Britain has to offer, is often seen being thrown into highly dangerous situations against the real-world tyranny of the time. As Jeremy Black writes in The Politics of James Bond: From Fleming’s Novel to the Big Screen “Bond is both a timeless figure and one who reflects the circumstances of particular periods.” (2005, P.93) For example, in the films produced before the end of the Cold War in 1991, we see the KGB and Soviet affiliated forces being the main threat although under the guise of the fictional organisation, SPECTRE (Special Executive for Counterintelligence, Terrorism, Revenge and Extortion). Whilst the fictitious elements obviously contradict real world threats to national security, they are nonetheless reflective of them – for instance in all films made during the Cold War, SPECTRE is comprised of Russian and Japanese individuals which echoes the ongoing crisis of the time. Black points out that in the first instalment in the franchise, 1962 film Dr. No (Terence Young), that although SPECTRE operates as the main organised antagonist – the KGB still casts a shadow, writing: “The Cold War was not central to this film, although it played a role.”  (2005, P.93)

Whilst self-declaring as a terrorist organisation it’s not until the post 9/11 Daniel Craig era that we see this organisation acting in ways that mirror real world terrorist acts. For example, in the 2012 Bond film Skyfall (Sam Mendes), we see the villainous Raoul Silva attack the London Underground all as part of his heinous vendetta against his old boss. He even goes as far as blowing up Bond’s childhood home in an attempt to kill Mi5 chief ‘M’. The attack on the London Underground system in the film cannot be coincidentally similar to that of the real-life terror attacks on the London transport system, including underground rail services, on the 7^thJuly 2005. This combination creates the impression that the British secret service has a personal interest in stopping terrorist organisations as John Markert writes in Post-9/11 Cinema: Through a Lens Darkly, “Films where terrorism becomes the central motif help perpetuate the notion that constant vigilance by [British] agents and agencies is the only thing keeping terrorism at bay.” (2011, P.283) The pairing of real-world terrorist attacks and the fictitious relationships between operatives and attackers blurs the line to audiences in our perceptions of reality. For instance, seeing images that are familiar to us as being horrific examples of mass murder paired with the glamourous and action-packed stylings of a Hollywood blockbusters version of a British special agent – it gets tricky to untangle the reality from the construction. It is perhaps as James Chapman writes, “The Bond films in this sense, represent the continued existence of a ‘cinema of attractions’ based on visual spectacle rather than narrative or characterisation.” (2009, P.110) This means to say that the imagery offered in these films is what keeps audiences interested and keeps them coming back. The 2015 film Spectre (Sam Mendes) features the biggest recorded stunt explosion in cinematic history, according to the Guinness Book of Records, being the equivalent to sixty-eight tonnes of TNT. Perhaps what drives audiences to watch these films is the sensation of good over coming and defeating the evils we see in our real world. 

However, there is a fatal flaw to what Chapman writes. Jeremy Black notes that throughout the depictions of Bond during the Pierce Brosnan years there was “an absence of complexity in the portrayal of Bond” (2005, P.168) with the most infamous of not just the Brosnan films but Bond as a whole being 2002 filmDie Another Day (Lee Tamahori). Made before the attacks of 9/11 but released after, the film relies heavily on visual spectacle over any kind of reasonable logic – arguably most notorious being a scene where Bond parasails on a tsunami wave to avoid a falling glacier. Lucy Bolton writes in James Bond (edited by Claire Hines) “the apotheosis – or rather the nadir – of this CGI fandango is the invisible car that Q creates for Bond, as well as a series of excruciating slow-motion punches and strikes” (2015, P.73) suggesting that audiences want more than just pure visual spectacle from a James Bond film. 

         As Karen Brooks and Lisa Hall also write in James Bond, “the world’s most famous British spy functions culturally as a social and political barometer” (2015, P.121) and as such perhaps such extravagant imagery no longer appeals to a sobered Western society. The suspension of disbelief has snapped. The world in which Bond operates is a starkly different one now than that of 1962. No truer is this than in the portrayal of Bond’s attitude toward women and the representation of masculinity. Throughout the tenures of Sean Connery and Roger Moore, Bond was seen as a womaniser whose sexual conquests rivalled his kill count – although in the case of Connery, his depiction of Bond often resulted in him killing the woman he had just slept with. Lisa Funnell remarks that in The Man with the Golden Gun (Guy Hamilton, 1974) Bond interrogates Andrea Anders “by slapping her and almost breaking her arm” before “he decides to sleep with her and she obliges (most likely out of fear).” (2015, P.73) This in a Moore Bond film, who is often remembered as being less domestically violent compared to Connery, shows the flippant attitude Bond has towards sex and as Funnell concludes demonstrates the “troublesome messages about gender, sexuality, violence and power” (2015, P.73) present throughout these films. Bond is the alpha male and therefore any woman is subordinate and submissive to him.

         This is until Goldeneye (1995, Martin Campbell) where we see perhaps a change in attitude toward this kind of violent sexual promiscuity –this being no clearer than when Judi Dench’s ‘M’ labels Bond “a sexist, misogynist, dinosaur; a relic of the Cold War.” Sex in the Brosnan era is far more diminished when compared to earlier iterations as Black notes “this was a matter of the impact of AIDS and the consequent stress on sexual responsibility.” (2005, P.160) Bond, not known for stopping, presenting and subsequently putting on a condom, was dialled back in order to reflect the times he found himself in. It would be, however, dishonest to say that these traits were henceforth abolished. An example of this being in Skyfall, fifty years after the release of Dr. No and nearly twenty after the supposed reform in Goldeneye, we see Bond sleep with a woman he again has just met after a single brief conversation. What makes this more sinister is the fact she had just told him she was raised in the sex trade and therefore inferred she has suffered a life full of abuse. Later in the film, antagonist Silva forces a physically struggling Bond to play a sadistic game of target practice by trying to shoot a glass of whiskey off of her head. Silva purposefully shoots her dead to which Bond remarks coldly that it was “a waste of good whiskey.” This kind of one liner after the death of a character is a key characteristic of Bond. This specific quip harkens back to 1964 film Goldfinger (Guy Hamilton) after Bond bludgeons a woman he just slept with and electrocutes her assassin accomplice to which he remarks “Shocking. Positively shocking.” Although, as Black points out there has been a reconsideration to the depiction of frivolous sexual encounters, it is as Monica Germanà comments in Bond Girls: Body, Fashion and Gender, “James Bond’s particular kind of masculinity would appear to resist change, even in a post #MeToo context.” (2020, P.19) 

It is interesting to note then, that in lieu of the James Bond franchise being one entrenched simply in visual spectacle, the narrative substance of it is one that often denigrates women. Whilst I acknowledge the #MeToo movement, and the terror attacks of 9/11 have as little to do with one another as quantifiably possible – I think there still is something to say about both of these things in conjunction with one another in this context. As discussed, post 9/11 Bond (and more specifically the Daniel Craig canon of films) strived to reflect a far more realistic world on screen. It showed the fears of a Western society that is concerned with organisations that do not follow any patriotic vitriol but operates on mirky undemocratic ambitions. James Bond, the character, is our escapism as the ultra-masculine hero who defeats our fears. Problematically perhaps, this type of sexist violent masculinity has endured so as to demonstrate Bond remains a stereotypical ‘man’s man.’ Modern Bond harkens back to the myopic attitude that life was simpler sixty years ago. 

There are however some keen snags in this line of argument – not least in the depiction of a more sexually ambiguous Bond. As Brooks and Hill write, “In the rebooted Bond films, cultural nostalgia exposes contemporary society’s ongoing reconfiguration of masculinity and gender on-screen.” (2015, P.121) This means to say that if Bond is the pinocle of masculinity in a changing world then so too is the benchmark of Bond’s masculinity. Craig’s Bond is one that is physically and mentally vulnerable and his scars stay with him – each fight carries consequence for Bond, and each kill a mental torment. Brooks and Hill comment that like prior Bond’s “Craig’s spy is hardy and desirable, but unlike his predecessors, the rebooted Bond is in possession of a peculiarly feminine-like frailty that distinguishes him as a liminal figure.” (2015, P.123) Bond in this era flips the male gaze as his body becomes the object of desire, most notable in Casino Royale (2006, Martin Campbell) as he emerges from the sea in small blue swimming speedos – his muscles glistening in the sun “in a scene reminiscent of Ursula Andress’s entry in Dr. No [and] Halle Berry’s Jinx in Die Another Day”(2015, P.123). Bond is substituted in for a role normally occupied by a beautiful woman who is almost certainly a one movie wonder in the Bond franchise. This inversion to Bond being the object of affection flips the narrative of Bond catering almost exclusively to the masculine heteronormative fan base and instead now appeals to straight women and gay men.  As Monica Germanà writes, “No longer the active controller of the gaze, Bond in fact occupies the traditionally feminine position of the object of voyeuristic interests.” (2020, P.19)

Whilst Bond now visually caters toward a queer audience it is also laid in the text that Bond himself may also be queer in this modern era. Whilst it is to be noted that at no point is Bond romantically or sexually linked with another man it is heavily implied that he may have been with other men in the past. Brooks and Hill write that “a sexual ambiguity is highlighted during the rebooted films, materializing with an overt homoeroticism that is displayed through Bond’s relationship with the villains.” (2015, P.124) We see this in a torture scene with Le Chiffre in Casino Royale when Bond is stripped naked, sweating, and bound to a chair. Again, the visuals of a muscular, glistening and now naked Bond is not trying to appeal to heteronormative audience but his interaction with Le Chiffre is not explicitly heteronormative either. As Le Chiffre swings a rope with considerable force into Bond’s genitals “Bond cries out in orgiastic release and uses humour to inflame Le Chiffre to greater lengths; so much so, the villain removes his shirt.” (2015, P.124) Whilst at no point would an audience member think Bond is getting any sexual pleasure from this attempted neutering, (in fact quite the opposite) the visuals and scenario play as a sadomasochistic act and is drenched in homoeroticism. Even more obvious perhaps is a scene between an again tied to a chair Bond, although clothed this time, and a gloriously flamboyant Silva. Perhaps best recounted by Brooks and Hill:

“On their first meeting Bond is once more tied to a chair and Silva draws so close that their faces almost touch. He undoes Bond’s shirt and strokes his (wounded) flesh, engaging in a discourse laden with double entendres about fellatio. Silva then says coyly, ‘Well, there’s a first time for everything,’ to which Bond responds, ‘What makes you think this is my first time?’” (2015, P.124)

Historically, Bond villains have been identified by their deviance from heteronormative behaviour, and yet Bond’s own deviation bridges this homophobic gap that was left by previous Bond instalments. Although left to innuendo and subtext it does certainly work to repackage the masculine image of Bond. 

         Perhaps most famous of all Bond girls if not just because of her name, Pussy Galore, from Goldfinger is a lesbian character in the original novel. The film translation leaves this to subtext but presents her as a headstrong woman, a capable pilot in charge of a group women, and wears trousered suits – suitably transgressive for the time. Working for the evil Auric Goldfinger, Galore’s lesbianism is associated with her villainous doings, as she ultimately betrays her boss and help’s Connery’s Bond and eventually has a sexual relationship with him. Jeremy Black writes that when “Bond wins over and changes the lesbian Pussy Galore with his sexuality and concludes that her sexual confusion is attributable to women’s suffrage and the push for sex equality” that the now archaic attitudes toward women’s rights was part and parcel of the brand of Bond. 

         This notion of the female double agent however does extend into the modern era, with Casino Royale featuring a new kind of Bond girl in Vesper Lynd. Matching Bond in intellectual prowess and even saving his life, she works with him in order to defeat Le Chiffre until it transpires, she has been agent for SPECTRE the whole time. Her betrayal and eventual death, again, appeals to a rebranding of Bond’s masculinity, who has essentially retired to Venice to live out his days with Lynd. We see her death holding significant consequence for Bond who in the resulting instalment, Quantum of Solace (2008, Marc Forster), hunts down Lynd’s killers – the film operating then as a revenge story. Her death is even felt fifteen years later in Craig’s final venture as Bond in No Time to Die (2021, Cary Joji Fukunaga) when he visits her grave. As Estella Tincknell writes “Casino Royale’s mobilisation of the question of the female double-agent’s sexual treachery or loyalty as its central narrative enigma is it itself hardly a new one” (2020, P.99) and it is one that is entrenched with the Bond brand. It is true of Brosnan film The World is Not Enough (1999, Michael Apted) which sees the kidnapped Elektra King, whom Bond has worked to save from villain Renard, be revealed to have fallen in love with her kidnapper and betray Bond. We even see it extend into Craig’s final films Spectre and No Time to Die where Bond is constantly doubting and abandoning love interest, Madeline Swann, estranged daughter of old nemesis Mr. White. The constant question mark as to her loyalty throughout the two films is finally resolved when Bond finds out she is mothering his child after years of separation. This offers Bond the opportunity to operate from a place of paternal love toward his young daughter and in a sense attempts to reaffirm Bond as a character for all audiences.

         Bond’s fatherly side is something audiences have never seen and is the true softening of the character. Although he remains a highly effective assassin it is now out of the motivation of protecting his family rather than simply for national interest. Again, this reaffirms the narrative construction of government operatives having a personal vested interest in defeating terrorist organisations. Bond’s daughter, Mathilde Swann, is the final destination that the character has been journeying toward throughout the Craig era. The constant re-emergence of the strong female double agent can be, Tincknell writes, “represented in the terms of the genre’s overt concern with protecting national (or Western) power interests” although they “can also be understood as a symptom of the threat femininity poses to the stability of masculinity.” (2009, P.101) Bond throughout these films has been dealing with the loss of Lynd as well as the complicated relationship with Swann. Bond has become a complicated character who has, through the course of multiple films, fallen in love multiple times and grieved multiple times. Up until No Time to Die Bond’s connections with women was either sexually charged or, in the case of Judi Dench’s ‘M’, a maternal figure. It is interesting then, although there is a change in attitude toward female characters it is through changing the definition of Bond’s masculinity as opposed to creating a roster of characters with their own agency outside of Bond. Even his daughter acts more as device so Bond can make the ultimate sacrifice to save her and cements himself as a true hero by dying. 

         In conclusion, Bond in the past sixty years has seen much change. As a barometer of the social conscious in which he finds himself, Bond has had to reflect a far more sober world in a post 9/11 Western society. Gone are the outlandish plots of the soviet affiliated SPECTRE of past films and now replaced with gritty terrorists, whose plots emulate real world terror attacks, such as the 7/7 bombings on the London Transport System. Bond’s personal motivations, that are often entwined with stopping these antagonists, reframe the public’s perception of how Mi5 operates with it feeling far more glamourous than is necessarily true. Bond films are often misunderstood as being devices for pure spectacle although previous entries into the franchise, such as Die Another Day, prove that sound logic and strong plot is just as highly valued by audiences. However, these plots often frame women as subordinate to Bond and merely learning opportunities for his character to develop. Although, his character throughout the Craig years challenges traditional depictions of masculinity in the franchise with Bond being physically and mentally vulnerable, the queering of his character challenging heteronormative perceptions of masculinity and even softening the character so much so that he becomes a parent.  Whilst these changes improve on the relationships Bond has had with women previously, not just sexual conquests or women who need a strong man to make them virtuous, there is very little attempt to give female characters their own agency. They still ultimately serve the role of demonstrating that Bond is the greatest spy of them all who is even willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good.