Showing posts with label 007. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 007. Show all posts

Saturday, 2 January 2016

Bibliography XII

“James Bond Cars” – Frédéric Brun


And in the “Pretentious Coffee Table Book” department, a hardcover tome packed with photos, anecdotes and specifications associated with the vehicular co-stars in the 007 series from “Dr No” to “SPECTRE”, including the oddball entries like space buggies, tanks, and airplanes. Did I die and go to Heaven when I unwrapped this baby? Pretty much. Yeah, sure, there are photos of Sean Connery, George Lazenby, Roger Moore, Timothy Dalton, Pierce Brosnan and Daniel Craig sprinkled throughout, but … who cares?

Ter claims that I have an instinct for engineering and I have always had an eye for automobiles (I remember identifying a Dodge 500 by its rear lights when I was a little kid in Quebec), so my excitement here is far less surprising than the giver of the gift—my little tea fairy, Treena, who has no idea at all about cars beyond trying to avoid being hit by one in a crosswalk (so far, so good). Whenever I start rhapsodising about the Tesla in the parkade or the Maserati standing outside the coffee house, she glazes over. But, gods bless her, she thought of me when she saw this book and I will adore her forever because of it.

Page after page of glossy, glorious photos in black and white and in colour, of Aston Martins in various stages of assembly, blocks of text describing how the DB5 and beyond became part of the Bond mystique, stories from the drivers and technicians behind the stunts … and there, on page 81, is a full colour shot of the Mustang Mach 1 from “Diamonds Are Forever”. The car was a bit player in my favourite of the 007 films, but it stole the scene it was in by ripping it up during a chase in Las Vegas. Other Mustangs have appeared in Bond movies—Ford gave the producers a pre-production model for the scene in “Goldfinger” where gentleman spy is distracted by pretty girl in white convertible, and a million new cars were sold as a result.

I’ll expect nothing but pleasure when I pick up this book to kill the few minutes between dinner and dishes, but then again, who knows? Inspiration can hit when one isn’t looking, and a hot car often heralds the introduction of a new character with a story to tell …

Friday, 13 November 2015

IntroSPECTRE


The best Bond ever?

Take Diamonds Are Forever off the table and I might agree with you.

Hey, whatever the title, it’s James Bond, the gentleman spy extraordinaire, played to the 21st century hilt with steely-eyed panache by the best actor to play our hero since Sean Connery. Light on plot, heavy on action, sardonic dialogue peppered with witticisms, it’s a guaranteed win no matter how hi-tech the projector.

SPECTRE in IMAX would have had me vomiting from motion sickness before the opening credits (which I think rank among the best in the entire series. Sam Smith did a super job with the theme, too!), so the gods be thanked that the film also opened in the old-fashioned regular format to accommodate vintage era fans. Ter and I were planning to wait a few weeks, but couldn’t stand it once we discovered it wasn’t exclusive to the hi-def, 3-D, über-size, holographic, king’s-ransom-admission theatre at the local Cineplex when it was released. We got our tickets online and happily ate popcorn and chocolate for lunch.

As plots go, this one continues from Skyfall and referenced both Quantum of Solace and Casino Royale, threading together the most recent four in the 007 series quite nicely. There were a few “Really??” moments, as are customary in a Bond movie, and the girl fell in love a little too quickly after  insisting that he stay-the-hell-away from her—but that’s picking nits. Overall, it’s a cool continuation of the franchise that got a potent shot in the butt when Daniel Craig signed on in 2006. Less a spy than an assassin, he owns the role simply by standing still. Put him in the field and watch him save the world without employing alien superpowers or stripping down to a blue Spandex onesie.

I do wish he’d quit destroying those Aston Martins, though. I can sit unmoved through a bloody brawl or a screaming torture scene, but I want to weep when the car meets its inevitable demise.

RIP DB10