Article: Double No Seven: Ruminations on a Black Bond

By Leslie Byron Pitt

One of the most recent things that’s irked me has been the needless chatter about a Black James Bond. When the ramblings of Idris Alba being considered as a possible contender for Bond when Daniel Craig hung up his Walther PP7, I pretty much ignored them. As I do with so many film rumours these days. There’s never any groundings in such talk. When I used to podcast with My friend Iain, we drastically altered our “News” section as we began to find populist film sites and blogs to become cluttered with obnoxious clickbait. Whatever people thought of our Cast, we quickly realised didn’t really wish to be a part of the rumour circle jerk. We found ourselves trying to dig for more interesting conversation pieces. The black Bond Idea had me burrowing once again. Searching for film talk that’s I would find far more interesting.

Despite quieting down slightly, I found that, once again the maddening talk and so called “controversy” bubbling to the surface. Former Bond star Roger Moore had himself branded as racist when voicing his views. While Yaphet Kotto, previously a Bond Villian (and still the only black one) was suddenly found back in the news when asked how he felt about the matter. 

I dread to read what the comments are like on these type of articles. When a precious 50 year old franchise appears to be threatened by the horrible cloud of multi-culturalism, suddenly allow seemingly normal minded people spew their inner Alf Garnett all over their keyboards. Despite this, I too have reservations about the idea of a Black James Bond. Of course, it’s not out of any bizarre patriotic pride (for the most part). So even though Mr Alba has quelled the fire by taking his name out of the hat. I still feel I must stand up and lip off about this subject. Because the internet.

Maturity

Part of the reason, I don’t wish for a Black Bond is down to the aforementioned comment threads. I find it astonishing just how quickly things like this can turn the country into a Springfield-like mob mentality. These days, when something doesn’t go our way, no matter what it may be, people sprint to the internet to inform others that such and such is not going their way. Like a huge global interconnected network mother, the internet merrily facilitates our nonsense. I mean, hey, look at what I’m doing now.

I was previously working in Customer Service, and the angry customers first port of call was to inform me that they will be “spreading their complaint on the internet” in order to get what they want. Even if it was their fault. The same thing occurs now in the media that we consume. Not in the now quint way in which we observed Trekkies write in on mass to save the ailing show. But in a childish, petty way as they feel that creatives only allowed to listen to the audiences entitled ass.

Although the mission statement has been altered somewhat, the Daniel Craig is not Bond site still remains. It has now achieved the original boycott plans, but remains a vivid testament to how we as viewers over react when threatened with change.

If we’re not organising virtual sit-ins and expecting them to go viral. Look at how we insult people who do not agree with us:

"It's not about casual racism towards nonwhite UK citizens, it's actually about border control." #UKIPManifesto pic.twitter.com/G6cxr496j8
— Musa Okwonga (@Okwonga) April 15, 2015

This “debate” over the UKIP manifesto continued with Mr Bunker (Yeah, we get the reference) claiming that his first response was not racist and continuing to ask about whether the entire manifesto was read. Unfortunately the insipid way this gentleman launched into infantile conflict first as opposed to engaging cultural journalist Musa Okwonga like a grown adult, not only obviously negates further response, but speaks volumes of how many look at not just the political process. This type of juvenile outburst happens a thousand times a day to so many people, famous or otherwise. It suggests to me one thing: If this is the maturity that we look at political discourse, imagine the intelligent discussion we’d have about a Black Bond. As stated before, I dread to read the comment boards.

As much as Mr Elba would get many women drooling, Britain as a whole doesn’t appear to be mature enough to deal with even the idea of a Black Bond. I still live in a world in which black men are considered thugs and criminals by proxy in real life. Britain still sells middle class white period drama as it screws its face at post colonialism and multi-culturalism. It was only in the 60’s that landlords only had No Blacks, No Dogs, No Irish signs. Just look at how the media now use Katie Hopkins as a conduit for foreign policy. Labelling immigrants as vermin and not giving a toss if they die. I mean, that’s basically what Bond does anyway, but can you imagine idea of having a Black British characterisation of this? Many can. For completely the wrong reasons. 

I don’t honestly think such long standing British franchise where man fights for Queen and Country can have a Black Lead fit in snugly. I’m sure the BBC still gains complaints when they dare try and arrange EastEnders to appear more like the how the East End actually looks.

The Culture

As we’re talking about the British audience and their culture. Do I, as a young black individual need to see a black male playing the blunt killing instrument that Bond is? Do I need that prickly feeling that occurs when the audience agree that's all we, as black males, can be?  This same audience that takes Al Murrays Landlord a tad too seriously? It's hard to see a something like a Black Bond when we live in a country who’s far too quick to bemoan the volume of foreign players in its Top football league and not consider the structurally weak coaching system in place when its national team suffers. At its best, British culture and entertainment and our processing of it, provokes, challenges and triumphs. At its worst, it struggles to connect the dots.

I say this because slapping in a Black Bond is the kind of annoying liberal quick fix that agitates feelings rather than provide any real progression. For instance; I'm never really surprised that these kind of conversations constantly circle around what a white audience thinks, rather than a black one. A white audience who is very quick to inform black people how to feel about racial issues. Once again, consider social media and those lovely comment pages. Yes, Black actors get asked about Bond, and who would say no to wanting to play 007? It makes for a nice soundbite and of course an actor has got to eat so they would be delighted to be offered a multi film deal such as that one. 

Me as a viewer, however, has always been ok with a White Bond, as have my parents who introduced me to the film series. My Dad’s favourite is Thunderball. He is incorrect. That aside, neither parents have ever been clamouring for a drastic change in the character. The argument, of course, is that a Black Bond would be for a younger culture. However, I personally find that ever since my first Bond movie at the cinema (Goldeneye), I’ve always found it amusing that Bond is a relic of sorts. A Black Bond is the type of sexy upgrade that negates the history of the character, which includes the books and their liberal sprinkling of racism. I don’t really want that forgotten. In fact I’d rather it be remembered so we as a culture can come to terms with just how tolerant Britain actually is.

Badass Digest writer Phil Noble Jr rightly reminds us that: “Bond was a power fantasy for an empire in decline.” I’m actually quite happy to agree with him there. I was never surprised when the likes of Jason Bourne, had the men behind Bond pull up their bootstraps and look into make the series tick again. Yet even in Skyfall, the most recent entry, the film, while very enjoyable, still had to battle against the traditional aspects that make Bond what he is. Even in Goldeneye, M was considering him a dinosaur. I’m not sure we need to see a black actor mixed up in this particular tar pit.

Let’s not forget that a Black Bond doesn’t just mean a change of colour, it also means that there would most likely be an alteration of culture as well. Changes that would provide some fascinating dynamics, but would mostly cause more problems than anything else. The overwhelming whiteness of those behind the camera. An audience, who was ready to contemplate mob rule over a BLONDE Bond. The economical hedge bets by nervous execs if such changes were to occur. It seems like a needless headache.

Of course, all this pondering means nothing to a large grasp of an audience who would possibly respond with a nonchalant shrug before a loud groaning of “IT’S ONLY A MOVIE!” And yes that would be the nicest response. Yet it’s the jumbo geeks and uber fans that will moan louder and become more disruptive with it. Is there any point of trying to place any action towards this kind of conversation, when studios are still struggling with minorities within other genres and roles? Should a studio such as Sony, whose had far more troublesome worries in recent times, fight a consistently unsatisfied audience over another controversy?   

I mean, who does this choice honestly serve? The idea of a Black Bond doesn't excite me as a Black British viewer as much a new circle of black directors. A Black Bond or five BAME writers allowed to create new exciting scripts? Give me a couple more black producers who can get projects off the ground. These things are far more important to me as a viewer. It’s better to hold wealth than to be rich. A Black Bond could possibly give us a spot of richness. The things I have just mentioned would head us towards wealth.

A Future?

Of course, if we really need more ethnic minorities playing in this universe, would it kill the studios to have a Felix Leiter spin off? I’d happily buy tickets to an espionage thriller with Jeffrey Wright as the lead. It could be stylish, possibly more cerebral and could play well as not only an unconventional choice, but as an original product based only slightly on existing material.

The annoying thing about Bond, with the rights being owned by Sony, we face a bigger problem than Race. We see Bonds British culture in its cast and crew and location of Pinewood. Yet profits flow back to the U.S. Think about that. How British are these films anymore in the most basic sense?  Before we start mucking around with race, it would be nice for Britian to look towards gaining a decent sense of film culture (not dominated by Hollywood) and a fully functioning film industry in Britain which doesn’t live so precariously via tenuous links once more. With the lower budget British gangster film doing well for British film (which happily displays a solid sense of diversity) wouldn’t it be nice if a forward thinking bright sparks could look towards building similar models before evolving the system? I may be a ridiculous idealist, but imagine if we were able to grow such models. In my rose tinted vision, we wouldn’t need to bother the Sony behemoth, because we could have something else to look forward to. If however, we actually do achieve the right amount of harmony to have a Black Bond, with a well written new history and an open minded audience...Chiwetel Ejiofor?

Review: The Kingsmen: The Secret Service

Year: 2015

Director: Matthew Vaughan

Screenplay: Matthew Vaughan, Jane Goldman

Starring: Colin Firth, Samuel L. Jackson, Mark Strong, Taron Egerton and Michael Caine.

Synopsis is here:

I’ll probably keep this short and sweet. The Kingsmen is juvenile in the purest way. It’s more violent than it probably needs to be. There’s an air of smugness about it all, and any real message about Britian’s ongoing issues with class is lost in a medley of body slicing, literal bible bashing and inappropriate sexual gags. Despite all this, the film is so strangely cathartic in its displays of bad taste, I found it hard not to smirk. At a time in which James Bond has gone “back to basics” and reverted back to its original boys club with so much seriousness. The Kingsmen’s silliness do give an odd sense of relief, despite its raspberry blowing bad taste. Matthew Vaughn’s pulp sensibilities are strong, and the balance often feels right.

It’s clear Kingsmen wishes to be a more out and out, subversive take on the British spy genre (something you feel that Vaughan has been angling at since Layer Cake), but despite this, the film still leans towards the conservative elements that the likes of Bond have never truly shaken off (consider where we sit at the end of Skyfall). There’s lots of talk on gentlemanly conduct and nobleness. Yet the film seemingly wishes to clearly establish a certain type of Britishness. Converting the rough around the edges Eggsy (a confident Taron Egerton) to a Kingsman is a relatively fun hero’s journey, but it doesn’t hit the peak of subversion that Joe Cornish’s Attack the Block (2011) brought across. The film never really takes or challenges the Bond mantle, it mimics the franchises absurdity under a veneer of colourful gloss.

This isn’t really a problem, however, depending on how you feel about the likes of Mark Miller (writer of the comic book the film is based on). Vaughn’s brazen joy of staging Miller’s near nihilistic tendencies is the tipping scale of enjoying this film. A church sequence which involves the fatal causalities of many nasty (yet innocent) people, has caused issues with some, yet is so brilliantly executed it is hard not to admire. A particular joke near the end of the film has caused a certain amount of controversy – rightly so when reading the credits to see who Vaughan makes the film in memory of – but to me, only really highlights the type of provocations that Connery and the like were getting away with for decades. Muddled and icky? Yes, yet no more than the general politics of the film and it’s clear that if you’re a fan of Vaughan’s brand of humour, you can see the nonsense of it all.

I won’t lie. As someone as centre-left leaning as I consider myself, I didn’t find myself completely hating the films puerility as much as I often would in similar films. Vaughan’s keen direction and the solid cast clearly wish for you to be in on the joke. The Kingsmen has a sensation of a sugary cinematic purge which wants us to get in touch with some of our baser reasons for going to the cinema, before we’re reminded of our more levelled head sensibilities. I know many who will disagree with me and their reasons will be totally justifiable. But I went into this film holding a Tango Ice Blast. I think helps establish the type of film I was expecting.

Review: Skyfall

Year: 2012
Director: Sam Mendes
Screenplay: John Logan Neal Purvis, Robert Wade
Starring: Daniel Craig, Javier Bardem, Judi Dench, Ben Whishaw, Ralph Fiennes, Naomie Harris, Bérénice Marlohe, Albert Finney

Synopsis is here:

NOTE: I do not give explicit spoilers, but this review may not be great for anyone who wants to know anything about the film (although nearly everyone has seen it by now)

Skyfall is the film which celebrates 50 years of the character, appearing in features. Starting from Dr No in 1962 to the present day, Bond has drank, shagged and shot his way through five decades and remained something of an institution of British culture despite a barrage of ever-changing constituents. Add to this that cinema itself is not even 150 years old itself, Bond's longevity is something to behold. Bond’s near rampant alcoholism and misogyny apparently meaning nothing to his stout love for country. Maybe it's just the franchise's incredible ability to make things blow up extraordinarily, that keeps many chomping at the bit.

The most recent interpretation of Bond, has held some of the most radical alterations to the character since its sixties incarnation. Daniel Craig's Bond is a subject of grief, pain and retrospect. Even the rushed, muddled shenanigans of Quantum of Solace (maybe the only person in the world who doesn't mind it) reminds us that the brash, blunt instrument is someone motivated by murky emotions. James may be "doing it for England" but it's clear that he is heavily motivated by his relationships and those that he has lost around him.

Film critic for The Independent; Anthony Quinn, doesn't have much of an affinity for this more affected, softer Bond that's been on display, and it's understandable. There's a strong feeling that the Bond of the old guard is slowly evaporating. The character's mystique ebbing away; due outside wishes to be a little bit more like the Bourne franchise. The mythos is a sacred one, just look what happened when Mutt was introduced to the Indy mold.

Yet, here with Skyfall, I found myself invested with the ideas and themes that are at play. Here we have a more traditional spy caught in an era of transparency and internal conflict. Skyfall is smart enough to move with the times and ground an iconic hero with a certain amount of "plausibility" (we'll use this term very loosely). But it also caters to other aspects of the character that has made him so durable. It doesn't all work. The lack of camp humour has made the jokes and jibes dryer than a Chardonnay in the Sahara. Also, Skyfall still has difficulty with how it wishes to place certain females in the frame, trading off a well written a solid performance of Dame Judy Dench's M, for what can almost be considered as almost Bond girls. I have no real problem with Naomie Harris or Bérénice Marlohe in terms of their acting. However, they happen to be two of the more forgettable elements of the feature. At no point are we given the same sizzling interplay that makes Eva Green's Vesper Lynd so beguiling.

Nevertheless, Skyfall, for me, is the strongest of the Craig Bond features.  Swift with its pace and high on its octane levels, the film rarely drops a gear, nor loses focus. As an action film, the film hits all the beats with a satisfying crunch. Unlike the haphazard Quantum of Solace, Sam Mendes dictates the film with an actual rhythm for the audience to follow. He also gives us set pieces that just feel right for the occasion. Commandeering a Caterpillar and taking out VW Beetles? A dazzling, silhouetted fist fight in a Shanghi high rise? Kicking ass in-front of Komodo Dragons? Moments like these fit Bond to a tee.

As many have said, the film's real star may not be the intense, brooding Craig, but actually, cinematographer Roger Deakins. Mendes and Deakins work together, not only to make Britain itself an exotic place of its own accord (with Bond travelling all over the world, the U.K should feel strange to him) but also shape Britain as a visual metaphor for Bond himself. If the damaged MI6 building in London is where James' heart lies, it's no surprise that Skyfall, located in the Scottish Highlands is where his head is at. Deakins' creates a perfect storm of murky gloom. Such ambivalence is needed in the aesthetic to help continue a through line created since the Casino Royale reboot, that this a Bond conflicted internally by hurt. Some may not want such an understanding of 007, but the idea that the ability to inflict so much damage comes from a certain form of affliction (orphans make the best spies) is a decent way to keep the character fresh.

Deakins works his magic in wondrous ways, producing one of the most memorable introductions to a Bond villain that I can remember. For all the Brit-centric elements of the film, the first appearance of Raoul Silva on his creepily deserted island makes a grand impression. As the rouge net nerd, Silva, he struts between rows of modems and servers.  We notice that his savvy for modern tech is the perfect contrast towards Bond's staunch, last Bastille of traditionalist Britain. Bardem hits the ground running, allowing his flamboyant performance to tie up with the scene. He is the antithesis of Bond. His ambiguous sexual advance towards Bond at one point only helps suggest that this new world of villainy doesn't adhere to the same straight edged rules, we've known from before.

Themes like these are what Skyfall is about at its heart. I'm fascinated with how certain roles of traditionalism play off in a world that is shedding many of those features. A good chunk of the film belongs to Dench as M, who herself is trying to figure out what place she as well as Bond has in a changing regime. A pivotal and tense court room set piece sums up her feelings eloquently.

Skyfall comes out of the box strong, delivering high impact thrills and now a fully updated Bond that many can get their teeth into. Grumblings about Connery being the best will never go, and those complaining about a Spanish agent spying in Hong Kong for the Brits during the handover, may possibly be looking a tad too deeply into things. For me, Skyfall was the type of solid summer popcorn film, which ironically, due to tradition, missed its season.