The Sinister Scheme of Hugo Drax

I found a second Hugo Drax figure, this time complete with hands and blueprint. I think he turned out better than the first. 
 

Octopussy and Hugo Drax

It strikes me that with few exceptions (Blofeld, Jaws) not many of Bond's villains recurred, mostly because they were killed in their first appearance. I would have liked to see Doctor No or Octopussy, or example, return to vex Bond again. 

What about the paint jobs? Well . . . I'm still having trouble with skin, as you can see. But for the first time I managed to apply eye makeup to a figure, and she also has pretty good hair and eyebrows. Too much lipstick, but it's less evident to the naked eye. 

Drax, well, I was going for Earth tones and I guess I achieved that, but his outfit looks rather muddy. 
 

Xenia Onatopp

She loves her work, and I'm pretty happy with the green shades of her outfit. 
 

James Bond 007 in DIE AND DIE AGAIN

Here's my pitch for the next James Bond movie: 

Set Bond 26 in the Daniel Craig continuity--that is, after the events of No Time to Die, James Bond is dead. This will require some fancy footwork from EON productions . . . 

First, open with the classic John Barry/Monty Norman theme over the gun barrel opening. Only this time, the unseen assassin whose point of view we share is not slain by Bond stepping into his sights. Instead, the usual blank expanse the assassin initially sees is interrupted not by Bond, but by a British-looking man in cold weather gear, and that blank white expanse is actually a giant ice floe. The assassin shoots, and the man in cold weather gear, who we will later discover is 002, falls, soaking the snow and ice with spreading blood. 

Then, transition to the usual pre-credits teaser. 

M, Q, Moneypenny, Bill Tanner, Felix Leiter, all played by the same actors as in No Time to Die, attend James Bond's closed-casket funeral. There's a lovely, flower-framed portrait of Daniel Craig as Bond at the graveside. This scene exists specifically so that the marketing team can act as though Craig is back as Bond for one last, surprise appearance. "James Bond Is Back in . . . DIE AND DIE AGAIN." 

As the funeral ends and the supporting characters offer their final goodbyes to Bond, M gets a call on his secure line. After a moment, his features transform from sorrowful to grim; he hangs up. 

"SPECTRE," he says. He's clearly just received the bad news about 002. 

The main credits begin. It is the usual spectacle of half-naked women, stylized violence, and instruments of death set against an evocative, bombastic pop song by Taylor Swift or Lady Gaga or The Weeknd. Tumbling precious metals and glittering gemstones will also be featured, along with, of course, Bond's tombstone:

Here Lies James Bond

Who Lived and Died

For Queen and Country

After the opening credits, we find M and Bill Tanner in M's office, looking glum. 

"002. 0011. 008. 005. 006..." Bill Tanner says in disbelief. 

"To lose 007 was bad enough. To lose all of the double-Os...like this..." M answers. 

"At least 004 was able to inform us of SPECTRE's plans before she died." 

"Yes," M replies. "Seventeen hydrogen bombs in SPECTRE's claws, to be used to melt both ice caps and drown the world's coasts, a catastrophe of..." 

He trails off. 

"Just get our very best on it, Tanner. Every qualified agent we have. 

The rest of the film is a low-key spy procedural. We're treated to two solid hours of competent but unassuming men and women solving problems methodically, with nary a chase scene and a minimum of violence. 

Back at MI6, with most of SPECTRE's infrastructure and connections disassembled and their plot thwarted, M and Tanner philosophize about recent events. 

"Do you think it was a mistake, sir? The double-O program? This mission went off without a hitch--no civilian deaths, dozens of SPECTRE agents brought to justice, minimal property damage..." 

"That's not for us to judge, Bill," M says. "We saw the double-Os die. Ending the program would be like seeing them die again..." 

Fade to end titles. And after the credits roll...

JAMES BOND WILL NOT RETURN

Film Franchises Well-Suited to Bond-Style Main Title Sequences

The Bond films are iconic for a number of reasons, but for the purposes of this thought I'll name two: reliably entertaining use of key tropes, and opening titles marked by stunning visuals  combined with pop music that adheres to musical structures formed by John Barry and other Bond film composers. In most Bond films, a short prelude, usually an action set piece, opens the film, followed by the main titles. 

This structure has become part of the language of nearly every Bond film, and it creates a sense of familiarity and excitement for the moviegoing public. When you sit down to watch a Bond film, you know exactly what kind of experience you're going to have, and the prelude and main titles reassure you that Bond, once again, is back. 

I don't see any reason--aside from being accused of imitation, the sincerest form of flattery--that other iconic film series couldn't benefit from a similar structure. 

Imagine, if you will, a Superman film. It could open with Clark Kent interviewing people in an underserved neighbourhood of Metropolis, empathizing with their concerns, determining to bring much-needed attention to marginalized people. Just then, his super-hearing picks up an emergency; a man is having a heart attack on a bus, and traffic is too heavy to get him to a hospital in time. Clark rushes into a back alley, changes into Superman, flies across the city to the bus, cradles the man in his arms, and flies him to the hospital in time for life-saving treatment. "You're going to be okay," Superman says, gently placing him on a stretcher rolled over by paramedics. "These fine folks are going to take care of you." (In Superman's world, the US has single-payer healthcare to avoid thorny questions like "Why didn't you let me die so my family wouldn't have to go into bankruptcy to pay my hospital bills?") Superman flies back to the underserved neighbourhood, resumes his interviews, and the camera pans across a shot of bustling Metropolis, which transitions into the main title sequence, beginning with a Daily Planet headline about Clark's story. Images of Clark's glasses, the Superman symbol, the Daily Planet itself, Jimmy Olsen's camera flashbulb going off, Krypton exploding, Kal-El's rocket, Lex Luthor in a power suit, more Daily Planet headlines showing how Clark's story has prompted reform, other Daily Planet headlines about Superman exploits, Lois Lane's purple eyes, Superman's hands saving a cat from a tree, the words "Truth, Justice, and a Better Tomorrow" scrolling by, silhouettes of Superman fighting villains like Metallo or the Atomic Skull, Clark Kent's hands typing at super-speed and melting a typewriter, Superman's cape fluttering in the wind, panning shots of the Hall of Justice and Fortress of Solitude, home video footage of Superman saving people, and finally one final Daily Planet headline that also happens to be the film's title, all set to some amazing song by, I don't know, anyone who's sung a Bond song or someone who probably will in the future. 

Surely this structure would work for other superhero films at the very least, and for Star Trek, the Fast and the Furious, perhaps somewhat ironically for the Universal Monsters, Star Wars (already done by an amateur for The Empire Strikes Back to great effect), Tarzan films, Indiana Jones--really any action-adventure style movies. 

Not Mission: Impossible, though. They use a different structure (essentially the "this episode" montage used in the original TV series), and it's perfect for those movies. 

Gold Turret

Here's another turret to ward off raiders and wild beasts! In this case, I think the base turned out better than the weapon. I was going for a "Man with the Golden Gun" theme, but I'm not sure it works. 

Knocking at Fort Knox's Door

Is that James Bond peeking through one of the windows of this Fort Knox model? Hope Goldfinger doesn't spot him. . . 
 

No, I Expect You to Lie (Down on This Comfy Table)

 

This was a fun little set to paint. Imagine you're a secret agent that's stumbled upon this puzzling contraption as you're infiltrating the underground lair of an evil syndicate planning to take over the world . . . 

. . . and then you discover, to your peril, that the contraption was mean to dispose of meddlers like you! 

The one thing this set is missing is and actual projector for the laser beam meant to chop secret agents in half. I think the idea is that the strip at centre rear is a collimator band for the laser, but I like the old-fashioned ray gun/tv camera-looking thingee from Goldfinger. Maybe I can kitbash something and attach it. 

I do love that the model creators included two tables, one with an agent, one without. They also included three secret agent heads to choose from! Now I have two extra heads, already painted and ready for when I have two extra bodies lying around. 

Random Bond Thought

Roger Moore: 7
Sean Connery: 6
Daniel Craig: 5
Pierce Brosnan: 4
Timothy Dalton: 2
George Lazenby: 1

I find myself irrationally annoyed that there is not yet an actor who has played James Bond in precisely three EON Productions James Bond movies. I hereby predict that the next actor to so so will appear in three films to create the desired numerical sequence. It's also possible that the next Bond actor will appear in eight EON productions, then the one after that actor will appear in three. 

Also, here is a 28mm-scale Aston Martin I painted a couple of nights ago. 

 

Before We Kill You, Mr. Bond

Here's an intimidating trio of menacing villains who specialize in threatening British secret agents. 
 

W's Double Oh

I'm quite impressed by the dynamic sculpt of this miniature, so I didn't want to mess up. I think I did okay; most of the colours are "between the lines," as it were, the face and hair look good, and I even managed to get the bow tie right--no mean feat at this scale. 
  

Gaming & Guinness XIV Day 1

AND as has become tradition, Gaming & Guinness XIV began with the towering spectacle of Giant Jenga;

AND lo, did Scott contemplate the tower and likened it to that built at Babel, to great calamity;

THEN did noble Rob test his mettle against the Tower;

THEN did Island Mike and Stephen carefully assault the Tower, each by each;

AND lo, did Scott and Earl look on with visages perturbed;

THEN did Mike T assess the crumbling edifice;

AND lo, did all the G&G men gather to wonder at their peculiar predicament;

BUT then did Pete's unsteady hand topple the tower, and all was confusion and madness.

THEN amid the ruins did they play Zombie Dice, gathering brains;

BUT the bones rolled displeased the group, and they moved on.

THEN did they begin the duel of intellects, and wielded heavily the mark of X;

THEN did they play Movie Timelines, and lo, the Earl drew the easy cards;

AND the others looked on in wonder as the Earl ran away with the victory.

THEN did they play Anomia with tongues tied;

AND THEN, did they imperil Mr. Bond and other agents secret as the sun waned and moon waxed. 

A Fan of Fans

Here's another thing I liked about Rockin' Robyn's: these cool double-bladed ceiling fans. They're the first thing Sylvia noticed. Is this the sort of thing I could buy and install at home? Because they're pretty neat. I also like the way the owners have mounted a Diamonds are Forever poster on the ceiling. Also, a double-bladed fan might make a cunning trap for Bond. Bond would defeat the gimmick in some way, of course, and quip:

"I'm not your biggest fan"

or

"I had to blow them off"

or

"It was a breeze"

etc. 

The SPECTRE Spectacle

SPOILERS HO for SPECTRE, the latest James Bond film. 

The latest Bond film has a number of weaknesses that hamper its entertainment value:

• Monica Bellucci and Christoph Waltz are underused
• Bond escapes from SPECTRE twice, and does so with unbelieveable ease
• Bond and his latest Bond girl fall in love far too quickly, even for a Bond film
• The big Blofeld reveal doesn't work because everyone knew it was coming, and those who didn't know have no reason to care
• Once again, lazy writers tie a villain's origin to that of the hero, undermining Bond's backstory with tired cliche

Were I the man in charge of SPECTRE (the film), I would have retained Bellucci's character as the primary female lead; I`d make her Mr. White's widow (and naturally make Mr. White the target of Bond's opening assassination in Mexico). I`d keep Judi Densch's mission from beyond the grave, but have her suggest that killing White and showing up as his funeral could lead Bond to Quantum, the evil organization of the second Craig film. But have her hint that Quantum's reach may have been even bigger than they inititally suspected.

I would also have re-titled the film and kept SPECTRE's return entirely out of the news. It wouldn't be possible to keep the final resolution of the SPECTRE rights issue a secret, but you could deflect a lot of interest with some boilerplate to the effect of "We're very pleased to have the rights back, but we're not in a rush to bring SPECTRE back to the films. We have to wait until we have the perfect story for their reappearance." You could hint that perhaps SPECTRE would return in the fifth or sixth Craig Bond film.

But of course, you'd actually introduce them in this film, which I would re-title Property of a Lady - a double entendre that speaks to Bond's attraction to the Bellucci character and her possession of a diamond broach containing a holograph of a black octopus - a strange work of art that hides world-changing secrets. Furthermore, I'd make Bellucci more of a femme fatale in the classic noir mode, but with a genuine desire to mitigate her husband's crimes. And Bond would be drawn to both her dark side and her attempts to reform.

Bond and Bellucci would wind up on the run from Quantum (and MI6; I would keep the Nine Eyes plot as Quantum's supposed evil scheme of the week). I'd keep the "Welcome James" scene of the real movie, but Bond's escape would be far more intense, and this is how they'd wind up on the run, trying to get back to London with the broach so that Q can unlock its secrets. They would eventually do so, and with the information in the broach M can put a stop to the Nine Eyes plot. Bond's mission now is to tie up the big loose end that is Quantum itself; the information in the broach points him to the desert base that would have been Quantium's evil intelligence hub. He goes in with a team of British commandos; they mop up Quantum foot soldiers while Bond himself hopes to capture the group's leadership, which would have been there to witness the Nine Eyes activation. Bond does, in fact, manage to shoot up a bunch of Quantum executives in the control room, but Christoph Waltz leads him on a merry chase through the base as it falls to pieces around them in the best Bond fashion. There's a stunt setpiece in which Waltz' character makes it across a collapsing catwalk to an escape pod; the catwalk collapses just before Bond can follow. Waltz taunts Bond, which gives Bond time to take a photo of Waltz, much to his consternation. He snarls: "You think you've won? Quantum is nothing, James. Nothing." He escapes, and Bond returns to London.

He shows M the photo, and M files it away for future use; one day they'll identify him.

In a romantic coda, Bellucci and Bond are relaxing together, perhaps on a yacht, perhaps at some sunny resort. By happenstance, Belluci's character sees the photo of Waltz' character and responds with horror: "James - do you know who that is? It's -"

And then she's shot in the back by an assassin hidden in shadows. Bond holds her as she gasps out her last breath: "B-blofeld. Ernst...Stavro...Blofeld."

Roll credits, and end with "JAMES BOND WILL RETURN IN SPECTRE."

In other words, Spectre's central premise would have been far more effective had the film's producers behaved a little more like SPECTRE itself. Longtime Bond fans would have been thrilled by the reveal, and more casual audiences would enjoy a more effective thriller, or at least I like to think so.

Spectre of the Past

It doesn't have the punch of Casino Royale or the poignancy of Skyfall, but Spectre does return a much-missed nemesis to the Bond films and in doing so ties the four Daniel Craig outings into one thematically sound package. Craig's Bond has always been the most reluctant and battle-torn Bond of the films; more than any other actor who has worn the tux, Craig imbues his performance with pain and a deliberate lack of affect; this is a man who, as he admits here, doesn't think much about what else he could have done with his life; he feels as though there were never any other choices for him.

Character agency is very much in question here; the primary antagonist and his secret evil conspiracy give no true rhyme or reason for what they do; they are evil because they have always been evil and must always remain evil, for that is the role history, Ian Fleming and Kevin McClory have cast for them. Even the name says it all: they are Spectre, the phantom that lurks in the shadows and strikes out to undermine civilization at the worst possible moments. Christoph Waltz' villain gives only the vaguest justification for their actions: "Sometimes it takes something terrible to lead to something wonderful." Usually would be world dominators at least attempt to justify their actions with some promise of order and stability; not here.

The world itself lurches forward, too, driven by fear that leading to the ultimate surveillance state, one which James Bond and the gang at MI6 must stop...but we in the audience know that even if the heroes succeed on screen, the surveillance state is here; the battle has already been fought and lost.

It's hard to classify Spectre as good or bad; it is merely as inevitable as the closing credits promise that "JAMES BOND WILL RETURN." It's entertaining, beautifully shot, well acted (especially by the masterful Waltz), provides the requisite comic relief and breathtaking stunts. To its credit, it even attempts to address a topical and crucial issue.

And yet it still feels as though we, the audience, are just as trapped as Craig feels in the role of Bond, and as Bond feels as an agent of Her Majesty's Secret Service. Watching Spectre is fun, but when it's over you can almost feel oily tentacles slithering around your limbs, pulling you to a place from which there may be no return. 

The Flemingway

A Lady Never Tells

James Bond sauntered into 00-Section at precisely 8 a.m. Monday morning, hung up his hat and flashed the pretty young Section secretary a winning grin. "Hello, Goodnight."

Mary Goodnight looked up from her receptionist's desk with weary amusement, tucking a stray strand of long blue-black hair behind one ear. "Your quips are as sharp as ever, James," she said. "Sharp as a scrambled egg."

"You wound me, dear," James said. "Itinerary..?"

"On your seat, sir," Goodnight said with an offhand gesture. She had already turned her attention back to her work. Bond lingered for a slow, appraising glance at the girl's nylon-covered legs, an indulgence he wouldn't normally allow, but his weekend had been full and happy, and his mood was uncharacteristically ebullient.

Bond stepped into his office, closed the door and retrieved the folder Goodnight had left on his chair. He sat down and scanned the itinerary first, setting aside the various briefings and correspondence - that could be attended to later.

An item midway down the list caught his eye. He frowned, gripped the itinerary in a fist suddenly taut with annoyance, and yanked open his office door, glaring at Goodnight.

"What's this at twelve? A damned birthday party? It doesn't even say whose birthday," Bond grumbled.

Goodnight shrugged. "That came straight from M's office, sir. You're to bring a gift suitable for a woman of a certain age, and dress casually, like a - "

"Yes, like a man of means on holiday. I can read the bloody note," Bond said, and shut his door again. So much for catching up on his paperwork.

Goodnight stared after him. "Then why ask me?" she wondered.

*  *  *

Bond slipped out at eleven drove his DB5 straight for the shops, where he purchased a brown Hercules leather bomber jacket with a furred collar, a pair of bluejeans and a pair of Sauvage snake-proof hunting boots. For the birthday gift he purchased a string of pearls, which the salesgirl wrapped up very neatly in a white box with a red ribbon.

You can't go wrong with jewellery, Bond thought, no matter what a woman's age. Ingénue or matron, Bond knew the gift would be well-received.  

Bond brought his purchases home, changed, and drove straight to Blades, M's favourite club, as indicated on the itinerary. It was all damned peculiar. Not only was he improperly dressed for the club, Blades was restricted to men; to whom was he giving the pearls? As he pulled up to the kerb outside Blades, Bond mulled over the possibilities. M wasn't the joking sort. Something about the situation felt wrong, and Bond never ignored the instincts that had saved his life again and again.

His hand hovered over the car's ignition switch for a second, then snapped back down to the gearshift. He hammered it into first and slammed the gas pedal to the floorboards, the engine screaming, the hood lurching skyward. An instant later he was in second gear and roaring down the avenue - not quite quickly enough to outrun the shockwave as Blades exploded behind him, enveloping the car in a lethal cloud of flying glass, wood and concrete. The DB5 heeled over to the left as Bond fought to stay conscious, the concussive force of the blast ringing his ears.

Everything started to move in slow motion as the car overturned and Bond was flung headlong through the air, flying alongside the debris.

"Goodnight, Mary," Bond thought irrationally as he crashed into the sidewalk, and then everything went black.

*   *   *

Waking up in a hospital bed was nothing new to Bond, and not for the first time he wondered why he stayed in the business. He'd certainly given up enough for Queen and country - Vesper, Tracy, any semblance of a normal life. He carefully looked himself over, noting that at least there were no missing limbs, though he'd probably picked up a fresh scar or two.

I wonder how many died, Bond thought. Blades tended to attract quite a lunch crowd.

As if in response to a psychic call, M suddenly appeared, bursting in like a dervish, slamming the door shut behind him, his face red.

"Twenty-seven killed, 007, in my club," he thundered. "And a valuable asset nearly blown to kingdom come with them."

Bond sat upright in his hospital bed, though it pained him. "Sir, what's all this about? It seems absurd to ask 'why the cloak and dagger?', but the itinerary was painfully brief - dangerously so, as it turns out."

"I didn't add that item to your calendar, Bond," M said, his steely gaze smouldering. "Your secretary is out of her mind with guilt, thinking she should have caught it. But the duplication was perfect. Your itinerary was stamped with today's codes, on today's paper, delivered by an interoffice courier who's been with us for nearly fifteen years."

"So not an inside job," Bond said.

"No," M said flatly. "I've assigned 002 to follow up. You're to recuperate for the next seven weeks."

Bond chafed. "But sir - "

"No buts, Bond. You're on medical leave effective immediately until I release you. The doctors tell me you ruptured a couple of organs and cracked a few bones, and I won't have a man who's not at 100 percent getting to the root of this damned situation."

"Yes, sir," Bond said, deflated.

*   *   *

A week after Bond was released, an unmarked envelope showed up in his mailbox. After checking carefully for poison and letter bombs, Bond opened it.

The card was blood red, with delicate black script in a woman's sure hand:

Mr. Bond -
So sorry I missed you at the club. It's a shame we'll never meet face to face, though I'll be calling on you again someday. Perhaps on your birthday, perhaps on mine, perhaps tomorrow, perhaps ten years from now. Why? My dear Mr. Bond, a lady never tells. But if you think back on all the men and women you've put in early graves over the years, surely you can narrow the list of subjects down to a reasonable thousand or so.
Be seeing you.

Bond sighed and slipped the poison pen note back into its plain envelope. He'd take it to headquarters for analysis, but he doubted they'd find anything. He wondered if this new old enemy was sane or mad, a professional or merely playing at it. It hardly mattered; in his business, her kind were legion. This was nothing remarkable, though he was sad for the loss of nearly thirty innocent lives.

A lady never tells, Bond mused silently. But blood will tell eventually, he thought, and went back indoors, calling out to May to prepare a cup of tea.

Some Bond Titles

I'll never be asked to write a James Bond novel or screenplay, but no one can stop me from coming up with some evocative titles for future Bond stories:

His Majesty's Shadow

Diamondeye

No Time for Regrets

Spectres Never Die

A Lady Never Tells

All Earth for a Tomb

Vanquisher

Midnight Kiss

A Fortnight 'Til Doomsday

Baron Earth

Death to Spies

Last Among Equals

No More Secrets

Never Die Alone

Forever Silver

From a Deal to a Draw

Hmm. Turning these into faux paperbacks might be a fun graphic design project...stay tuned. 

Bond, Beat by Beatle

A few months ago my friend Steve asked me why I didn't post about music more often, and I replied that I simply didn't know enough about the subject to comment intelligently. On the other hand, that disability has never stopped me from commenting on any other subject.

Last night I read the latest James Bond novel, William Boyd's Solo, so it seems natural to comment on the music of the James Bond films. I may not know what I'm talking about when it comes to music, but I do know what I like - so here's my list of the best Bond themes, ranked from best to worst in my uninformed opinion:

"Live and Let Die" - What if the Beatles had written a Bond track? This is as close as we ever came, and it's a great song that will be remembered long after the film itself is forgotten...and since Bond movies are rarely forgotten, well...

"You Only Live Twice" - One of my favourites. Great lyrics, cool western/Japanese fusion.

"You Know My Name" - A really powerful piece of work that almost assaults the listener, a great introduction to the latest Bond.

"Skyfall" - Heartfelt, mournful, dangerous. I love this one.

"On Her Majesty's Secret Service" - It might be wrong to call this driving instrumental "jazzy," but it sounds right to my ear; maybes someone can weigh in with a better adjective. All I know is that it gets my heart pumping and ready for some espionage thrills.

"The Living Daylights" - Probably the best thing A-Ha has ever done, thanks mostly to John Barry. I really like this one.

"All Time High" from Octopussy - What, they couldn't come up with a way to work the film title into the lyrics? Still, catchy.

"The Spy Who Loved Me" - Sentimental and so very 70s, but somehow it captures the essential Bondian tragedy, the man who leads the ultimate man's life save for one thing: he'll never have enduring love.

"For Your Eyes Only" - Another 70s romantic ballad that makes a nice companion to "The Spy Who Loved Me."

"The Man With the Golden Gun" - This one's pretty goofy, but something about the beat and the funky electric guitar grabs me.

"Diamonds Are Forever" - Better than the film it introduces, but you could say that about quite a few of the Bond tunes...

"Goldeneye" - It's got Tina Turner and I wrote alternate lyrics to serve as the theme for Toilet Chase. If any of my female friends can sing, I'll pay you $50 to sing the Toilet Chase lyrics to Goldeneye karoke...

"Licence to Kill" - I just like the "WAAAAH wah...wa wa wa wa wa WAAAHHHH WAH..."

"From Russia With Love" - Opens with a pretty nice instrumental that I far prefer to the Tom Jones lyrical version.

"Goldfinger" - Another classic, but it doesn't really move me that much. Probably suffers from familiarity.

"James Bond Theme" from Dr. No - Sure it has the classic theme, but its début is marred by weird beepy-boopy stuff and an annoying segue into "Three Blind Mice."

"The World is Not Enough" - I was hoping for better from Garbage, but meh.

"Tomorrow Never Dies" - Another meh.

"Die Another Day" - Madonna, but auto-tuned? Ugh.

"A View to a Kill" - I like Duran Duran as much as the next guy, but this one feels pretty dated now - very much a product of its time.

"Moonraker" - One of the weakest songs for one of the weakest movies.

"Thunderball" - I've never liked this one. "A thunnnnnderbaaaaallll!"

"Another Way to Die" from Quantum of Solace - I really hate this one, especially given the creators could have chosen the far better "Quantum of Solace" by Eva Almer.

Can't remember some of these songs? They've all been compiled below:

The Little Boy and the Metaphor Monster

Yesterday I watched Ishiro Honda's offbeat 1969 Kaiju film All Monsters Attack, the tenth entry in the original Showa series of Godzilla movies and the one often derided as "either the worst or second-worst" of all Godzilla films, at least according to Richard Pusateri's audio commentary. And yet I was charmed by this simple yet genuine little film, which focusses not on monsters but on the plight of a little boy facing a reality often cruel.

Little Ichiro lives in the seemingly endless rust-hued industrial wasteland of postwar Kawasaki, Japan. He is a latchkey child, both parents often working late to make ends meet. Ichiro wishes his parents were home more often, but his loneliness is somewhat abated by a kindly, eccentric neighbour - an inventor of toys - and his own fertile imagination.

Ichiro's nemesis is Gabara, an older boy who bullies Ichiro on the way home from school. Ichiro is too small and scared to fight back, and either runs away from his tormentor or meekly submits to his wishes. It's humiliating, and like many bullied little boys, Ichiro escapes into fantasy.

Using the sort of psychedelic dream sequence transitions that have been out of style for decades, Honda transports Ichiro to Monster Island, where Ichiro admires the fighting prowess of the mighty Godzilla, King of the Monsters. He also makes friends with Minilla, Son of Godzilla, who can apparently shrink down to little-boy size and speak Japanese. Just as Ichirio is about to wrangle an introduction to Godzilla out of Minilla, he's rudely woken by the neighbour, who tells Ichirio that his mother can't come home tonight because she has to work late. The inventor consoles a stoic but clearly upset Ichirio by inviting him over for sukiyaki beef.

At this point the b-plot intrudes on our tale - the police enter to warn of a pair of dangerous "50 million yen thieves."

The rest of the film's running time dances adroitly from the framing sequence to the Monster Island scenes, with Godzilla teaching little Minilla to fight his own monster battles. In the real world, Ichiro finds himself kidnapped by the bank robbers, and must take inspiration from his own fantasy world to escape.

One can see why most Godzilla fans don't like this film much; the famed monster battles consist almost entirely of stock footage from other, better films, and the child's perspective is a little too juvenile for (supposedly) more sophisticated viewers.

But I think it's pretty amazing that after nine films Honda and the producers decided to break formula so thoroughly. Imagine if, say, one of the middle films in the Star Trek or James Bond or Star Wars series had been set in the real world, with Roger Moore or William Shatner or Harrison Ford playing "imaginary" characters (in the world of their respective universes). A lot of fans might claim that such a structure ruins their enjoyment of fictional worlds they've come to treat as internally consistent and "real" in that particular context.

Actually, nothing in the film explicitly states that Godzilla and the other monsters are imaginary. For all we know, the world of Ichiro's framing story is one in which Godzilla exists; no one is surprised by Ichiro's fantasies. To them, perhaps it's natural that little boys would imagine adventures with such fearsome creatures, as a way of coping with their very real menace. (On the other hand, no one in the film states that Godzilla is real, either.)

In any event, just as Minilla learns to breathe radioactive fire like his father and defeat the monster Gabara (a dinosaur-like creature given the same name as Ichiro's bully), Ichiro uses his wits to escape the robbers and even deliver them into the hands of the police - and in the film's coda, he confronts and defeats the real Gabara.

By no means is All Monsters Attack a great work of cinema. But it is genuine, well-made, honest and sincere. And I'll take that over virtually any of this summer's supposed blockbusters.