24 Weeks of Bond: On Her Majesty’s Secret Service

Art by James(?) Talbot

I’m a big fan of James Bond, have been since I was a kid. Having recently repurchased the complete Criterion collection of all 24 films, I thought I would do a rewatch of them all and break them down a bit, one blog post at a time.

A couple caveats: I have only read a couple of Fleming’s original novels, and so I won’t be doing any direct comparisons of the films to their literary counterparts. I’ll also only be covering the Eon films, so that means no spoofs, spin-offs, and no Never Say Never Again.

Having said that, let’s get into it!

THE MOVIE: On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, released in 1969 and directed by Peter R. Hunt who had previously served as a film editor and second unit director on the previous five films. His keen eye for camera cuts and stunning visuals helped earn him the directing job for the first Bond film after Sean Connery announced his retirement from the role. With a screenplay written by Richard Maibaum, OHSS endeavored to take a more realistic, less gadget-heavy approach. It also more adheres to the novel source material more closely than the previous adaptations.

Ernst Stavro Blofeld, head of the criminal organization SPECTRE, holds the world captive by threatening to introduce weaponized chemicals to destroy or render impotent major countries’ food supplies. Meanwhile, James Bond meets a beautiful but distressed young woman. In the course of saving her life, he finds himself with leads pointing toward SPECTRE.

This was the longest Bond film until Casino Royale was released thirteen films and 37 years later.

THE BOND: George Lazenby, in his first and only appearance as Agent 007, following Sean Connery’s five turns in the role. Connery announced his intent to retire during the filming of You Only Live Twice, and the studio planned to keep the franchise rolling by casting Roger Moore in an adaptation of a different Fleming novel. However, filming rights fell through with the location they needed and Moore signed on for another season of The Saint. With Moore occupied, they turned to Australian actor Lazenby.

So impressed by Lazenby’s physicality in addition to his look and film presence, the studio offered him a 7 picture deal. Lazenby, dissuaded by his agent, chose to turn the deal down and only do the single film.

Lazenby’s Bond is perfectly serviceable. He plays the agent as determined, stubborn, and cold, all qualities of Bond the way Fleming created him. There is quite a loss of charm from Connery’s portrayal, but it’s made up more in Lazenby’s dangerous aura.

Lazenby is the youngest actor to have played Bond. His “shooting down the barrel” sequence is also the only one where Bond drops to a knee, and the only one where Bond becomes obscured by the falling blood.

THE GIRLS: Blofeld, in an attempt to infiltrate the world’s markets so he can deploy his chemical weapons to their maximum effect, uses hypnotic suggestion to get 12 women, his “Angels of Death”, to do his bidding.

Two of these women have slightly more than nothing to do on screen. Ruby Bartlett (Angela Scoular) and Nancy (Catherine Von Schell) are seduced in rapid order by an undercover Bond who uses the moments of intimacy to try and reveal information about Blofeld’s plan.

Much more important to the plot is Teresa Di Vicenzo (played with tremendous charisma by Diana Rigg, who, at that time, had become well known as the secret agent Emma Peel in Britain’s The Avengers television show; she would go on to play another unforgettable role in Game of Thrones’ Queen of Thorns, Olenna Tyrell). Bond first sees Teresa when she tries to drown herself in the sea. He rescues her, then rescues her again moments later from men trying to kill her, and it isn’t long before he finds out there is much more to her than first appears.

As the daughter of the leader of an European crime syndicate, she is headstrong, deadly, and adventurous, even in the face of danger. She makes a good match for Bond, so much that he may even consider settling down.

THE VILLAINS: Ernst Stavro Blofeld is the major villain, and a tremendously active one, feeling like a culmination of his growing presence to this point. In Dr. No, you only heard of his criminal organization (SPECTRE). In From Russia With Love, you see him dealing with a pair of SPECTRE agents with competing schemes to kill Bond. After a break from him in Goldfinger, you see him addressing a whole room of subordinates in Thunderball. In You Only Live Live Twice, we finally see his face (played by Donald Pleasance at the time), and though he did attempt to kill Bond, most of his screentime was spent in a chair commanding others to do his dirty work.

In OHMSS Blofeld–played by Telly Savalas coming off a fantastic job in The Dirty Dozen– is a proactive, frontline participant in trying to kill Bond. Everything from his imposing physical presence to his dark, casual clothing serves to create a fearsome persona as opposed to the cautious, delegating, hands-free version the previous films seemed to portray. Here, he is fearless, aggressive, ruthless, and unshakeable. Salvalas does a terrific job in portraying a nemesis for Bond who feels like his equal at least in every way.

In smaller roles are Yuri Borienko as Blofeld’s bodyguard Grunther (Lazenby accidentally broke his nose during the audition, which helped Lazenby land the role as Bond), and Ilse Steppat as Blofeld’s henchwoman Irma Bunt. Steppat would unfortunately pass away just days after the film’s release.

Lastly, Gabriele Ferzetti plays Teresa di Vicenzo’s father Marc-Ange Draco, the head of the criminal organization Union Corse. He is undoubtedly a criminal with ulterior motives, but he also has a weird fixation on hooking up Bond with his daughter.

THE LOCATIONS: Portugal bookends the film, with a beautiful and thrilling beach scene at the beginning and a tragic scene in the mountains at the end. The meat of the film takes place in Switzerland, centered around Blofeld’s snowy alpine base. They make the most of the wintry environment with both lingering and sweeping views of Switzerland’s snowy majesty. They also get creative with their action sequences, using terrifying avalanches, prolonged ski chases (a little too long, if we’re being honest), and a genuinely thrilling bobsleigh chase, which sounds ridiculous, but includes a gunfight, crashes, and leaping to and from the sleighs.

THE CARS: There are a number of beautiful cars in this film, including a few different Rolls-Royces. There is a 1954 black Phantom IV, a 1962 Silver Cloud III Standard Steel Saloon, and a 1968 Silver Shadow Drophead Coupe. There’s a blink-and-you’ll miss it 1962 Jaguar Mk X and a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle Malibu Convertible.

Mercedes-Benz has a couple cars in important scenes and chases, and then Bond, of course, has an Aston Martin. This time it’s a 1968 DBS Vantage 5234/R.

You can find a full list of the cars shown in the film here.

THE GADGETS: As I said above, it was the intent for this film to rely less on gadgets than any of the previous films. To that end, the most outrageous piece of equipment might be the radioactive lint that is suggested as a form of tracking device. Other than that there is art only an improvised device Bond makes to open a locked door, and the vanity cases Blofeld hands out to his Angels of Death so he can continue his hypnotic suggestions as he carries out his bioterrorist plot.

THE MUSIC: The soundtrack shows a mixture of old and new from composer John Barry. It is the last of the films to use his classic James Bond theme introduced in Dr. No, for example, and the first that sees an extensive use of synth music and electric guitars, creating a more aggressive sound that has led many to agree is among the best scores in the entire Bond franchise.

Finding it difficult to work the title into the lyrics of a song, Barry instead devised a powerful instrumental for the title sequence, much like the title sequences of the first two films, and then created a separate theme song for the film titled, “We Have All the Time In the World.” The lyrics were written by Hal David (“Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head”, “I Say a Little Prayer”, “(There’s) Always Something There to Remind Me”), and sung by Louie Armstrong. It was one of the final recordings Armstrong did before his death.

THE SUPPORT: Bernard Lee and Lois Maxwell return as M and Miss Moneypenny respectfully, with the former serving as more of a foil this time around, explicitly refusing to allow Bond to pursue Blofeld, frustrating the agent so much that he even threatens to resign. Desmond Llewelyn makes an appearance as Q as well, though only briefly as his gadgets are kept far away from the film.

Really, Ferzetti’s criminal Draco is the largest support, with the only other solid addition being Bernard Horsfall’s Shaun Campbell, an ill-fated colleague who tries to assist Bond on his Swiss operation.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Because George Lazenby only had one appearance as James Bond, and because it was sandwiched between Connery’s attempted last performance after making the character “his” and Connery’s ACTUAL last performance, OHMSS tends to get overlooked. It’s ironic, because everything about it–its nonreliance on gadgets, its close adherence to the source material, Lazenby’s cold and resourceful 007–makes this the MOST Bond-like film in the entire catalogue. Strong turns from Diana Rigg and Telly Savalas give a chemistry and a credibility both to the “Bond girl” and villain categories, with characters more than a match for Bond. Rigg and Savalas’ acting prowess also helps carry Lazenby’s relative inexperience.

The ski chase is overlong but still exciting, and a shockingly depressing ending provides an unexpected gut punch for those expecting the hero to always eke out a win. This film is exquisitely balanced, and the many fantastic qualities are echoed in several films (Inception, for example), including other Bond films (Spectre in particular pays homage).

Though Lazenby’s Bond might only be a stone in the lake that is the franchise, it was well-sunk.


Dr. No

From Russia With Love



You Only Live Twice

Diamonds Are Forever

The Wedding Bells Are Ringing

So I fly down to Pittsburgh tomorrow. Well, that’s not accurate. I’ll fly down to Chicago tomorrow and then catch a second plane (doubling my chance of a death via Langoliers) to Pittsburgh where I will arrive the morning of the third.

You ask yourself, “Why Pittsburgh?” Well, I like the Penguins. “Yeah, but what are your feelings on the Steelers? Do you like them, too?” to which I reply, hahaha no. Fuck no. The Steelers suck all of the dicks (sorry, Steelers fans. At least you have the most Super Bowl wins?).

In actuality, I’m flying down to hang out with my friend RJ, affectionately known as Dr. Chuck Toddles, tie connoisseur, dolphin hunter, and doctor of law and figuring shit out by day, crime-fighting Falcon Man by night. There’s a story behind all of that, but it’s dumb, so we’ll move on. See, this is a very special week for my friend. His birthday is on the 4th, inching him ever nearer to 30 and, beyond that, a likely untimely death. Then, on the 8th, he ties the knot. Gets hitched. Buys a ball to hook to a chain to attach to his…ankle? Hoof? I’m bad at this.

My boy is getting married! My (two year elder) child has grown and found the love of his life and has agreed to nuptialize her. Side note: nuptialize is a new verb. Go forth. Use it in your debates with marriage purists.

This is exciting news. Also, I fucking love weddings. I tend to get a little too drunk and a little too slutty at weddings, but seeing as how this is in a strange city I’ve never been in, and ignoring the convenience of the hotel room I have by the airport, I should be fine.

The wedding is made even greater by the congruence of friends from two opposite ends of the continent. Phil has already flown down from Alaska (where our friend Matt and I will also be coming from) and asked his girlfriend to marry him. That rapscallion! That romancer! That Duke of Debonair! She said yes, of course, because love is real. It’s real! And it’s beautiful and a little bit weird, which makes it perfect.

Brolin, meanwhile, is coming from South Carolina. You geography majors might recognize South Carolina as being “not Florida” but a few years back Brolin and I drove from Alaska to Florida in four and a half days so he could move his family down there. It was a stressful ride, during which I crashed into a ditch literally right next to a herd of bison, and one in which we got stranded in a podunk town in Middle of Fuck-All, Montana where we proceeded to get drunk in a bar with no less than thirty stuffed animal heads. So I’m counting South Carolina as Florida. It’s Florida, if Florida was on a gator-free diet, which is Florida enough for me.

I actually have no fucking idea if South Carolina has alligators. I’m going to assume if it does, they’re tourists.

Anyway, I’m excited for this trip. I’m excited to take a week and a half off work, I’m excited to travel somewhere new, and most of all I’m excited to see my friends, especially during such an important, amazing event in RJ’s life.

And let me tell you something about ol’ Falcon Man. I’ve known him for something like 7 years now. We’ve been drinking buddies from jump. I’ve driven across town to split a bottle of whiskey with him regardless of what time I needed to wake up in the morning for work, because he needed it. We looked into moving to Australia just to get the fuck away from Alaska. We packed everything into a shitty car and drove from here to Los Angeles in a move that changed my life in a lot of ways. THAT wasn’t an easy move, either, with the vehicle having no less than three horrible things happen to it IN CANADA. I like Canada and Canadians, but Canada is not God’s country unless God is a moose.

And God might be a moose. I’m not ruling it out.

I will go into my experiences in Los Angeles at a later date, but RJ and I lived in the a shady part of town for five months. He helped support me until I could get a job, and when we separated ways so that he could move to Seattle and I could move elsewhere in the city where I wouldn’t be shot at (again), we had one last breakfast and shook hands before parting.

Almost a year later, RJ gave me a place to live in Seattle after I got fired from my job for embezzlement. We moved to Redmond together. We turned Netflix into DrinkingGameFlix which is something we’ve never actually called it ever in the history of ever, but it seems appropriate, so I’m shoehorning it in here. It’s my blog and I’m mad with power.

We’ve lived together in three states, pounded liquor in four states and a foreign country, and have been there for each other’s tears, insecurities, failures, accomplishments, ambitions, fits of rage and moments of hope and love. Shit, RJ saved my life once. If he hadn’t, I would have never started a blog and where would my beautiful readers be? Bereft of…whatever it is I give you, that’s where.

RJ is family to me. I didn’t hesitate to drop the money to fly down for this. I fought to make sure I’d have the time off to celebrate both wicked birthday and wedding bless. I’m honored to have even received the invite and I’m so stoked to be there for this moment. If you read this, I love you, man, and I’m glad you’ve found your one. Here’s to the future!