Based on the book by: Ian Fleming
Cinematography by: Michael Reed
Editor: John Glen
Year: 1969
If you ever wanted to know what a poor imitation of Carey Grant would be like playing the role of James Bond, you have your answer in Lazenby. He's so obnoxious, he's already playing to the audience before the opening credit sequence begins. I guess Q gave Bond a wristwatch with a laser that can cut through the fourth wall.
Remember kids, sliding along an ice rink on your belly in a slow, predictable straight line while you shoot is the ultimate attack against a gang of highly trained, machine gun-toting henchmen.
And what is up with Bond wearing a kilt and pretending to be gay in a mountain-top mansion that is crawling with brain-washed go-go dancers? Bobsleigh getaways? really? WTF? Goddamn, this movie is too ridiculous to even write about.
The only things that made it worthwhile are the title music by John Barry and Telly Savalas, who brings a unique and more physical take on Ernst Stavro Blofeld. With all the other kinds of goofiness going on, I kind of wish he said, "WHO LOVES YA, BABY?" before he springs his big trap on Bond.
I consider this film as sort of proto-Austin Powers film more than I do a Bond film. I mean really, Mr. Costume Designer, how many different frilly shirts/cravats can one man wear in a 48hr period? Sheesh!
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