IN WHICH WE COME TO THE END. James is not James at all, and yet is seven people all at once.
IT AIN’T OVER TILL JAMES BOND SAYS IT’S OVER! Never Say Never Again, in which James pulls an Indy IV, gets re-Thunderballed, and I learn a valuable lesson about done-ness.
Can you believe we’re here? Nope. Me neither.
…Fifty years young, it is impossible to imagine a franchise as aged and venerable as the Bond frame coming away from its golden anniversary as current, and vital, as our James has done here. Skyfall sure doesn’t feel like a fifty-year-old.
One of the nice things about doing From A to Bond is that it’s let me reset my internal clock on where the real strengths of the franchise lie, and when. It’s also forced me to assign numerical values to all 22 episodes, which is not usually my style. Here’s how it fell out. Based on the franchise average (before Skyfall) of 6.3, I’d argue that anything at a 7 or higher is “one of the good ones”:
The 8: Dr. No
The 5: Goldeneye
The 4: Thunderball
The 2: Diamonds Are Forever
The 0: Moonraker
Bond actor averages (i.e. an exercise in numerical unfairness):
Lazenby (across 1 film): 10
Dalton (across 2 films): 8.75
Craig, before Skyfall (across 2 films): 8.5
Connery (across 6 “official” Eon films): 6.67
Moore (across 7 films): 5
Brosnan (across 4 films): 5
In which James turns Japanese, lives twice, and brings us to the last letter in From A to Bond!
In which James breaks his shoulder, Elektra has daddy issues, and Christmas comes more than once a year.
In which James sheds his Roger skin, yells May Day, and dances into the fire on the Golden Gate Bridge.
In which James delivers the news, Teri Hatcher is a desperate housewife, and Michelle Yeoh is awesome.
In which James goes underwater, plays Largo, and knocks over a Domino.
In which James goes triple-X, walks like an Egyptian, and has the best car.