Octopussy (1983)

Sadly, the improvements seen in For Your Eyes Only (1981) proved to be a mere blip in the continuing downwards spiral of the Bond series. Although the producers again protested that they were taking Bond more seriously and they tried to distance themselves further still from the excesses of the 70s, Octopussy is still marred by its frequent lapses into childish humour and slapstick. John Glen insisted that he was using From Russia With Love (1963) as his role model (though, as we'll see in a moment, Goldfinger (1964) also casts its shadow over the plot) though it's difficult to see any real connection between the two films.

Taking its title, but precious little else, from an Ian Fleming short story (it also references another story from the same collection, The Property of a Lady), Octopussy is a tired and very dull retread of everything that had gone before in the series. Producers Albert R. Broccoli and Michael G. Wilson seemed almost terrified by this stage to effect any real changes to the formula and, despite the contribution of Flashman novelist George MacDonald Fraser, steadfastly refuses to move beyond the self-imposed strictures of the Bond formula. Instead, they simply crank up the increasingly outlandish action scenes to ill-effect.

That said, the set pieces here are the equal of anything seen in For Your Eyes Only, though the final sequence in India does seem rather superfluous - the extended railway chase and Bond's defusing of the nuclear missile would have made a more than effective climax and the lengthy assault on Khan's palace is gilding the lily rather. As noted earlier, there are shades of Goldfinger about the finale - both films have a nuclear weapon counting down and being aborted in the nick of time and both culminate with a sequence aboard an aircraft at the end of which the villain meets a sticky end.

But for all their quality, the set pieces are arranged in the narrative in clumsy and slapdash fashion. The 'tiger hunt' sequence in particular is unnecessary and makes no sense (how did Khan manage to assemble a large hunt like that only minutes after Bond has escaped?), while other set pieces simply serve to highlight just how dull the story itself is.

Roger Moore, who had again tried to leave the series only to be lured back, had long since lost whatever charm he may have brought to the role and here, as Raymond Benson noted in The James Bond Bedside Companion, "seems to function only as an occasional stand-in for the stunt men." He seems to have lost all interest in the role by now and his performance could only be charitably described as perfunctory - he wanders about doing and saying Bondian things, but his heart clearly just wasn't in it any more.

Other characters are a mixed bag and suffer mixed fortunes from the writers - Maud Adams' Octopussy is virtually transparent throughout, drifting in and out of the narrative as required and barely making an impact. The script offers no background to her character other than her speech about her father - we have no idea who she is, why she does what she does nor why she should throw in her lot with the likes of Khan and Orlov. Her sudden switch of allegiance, allying herself with Bond, was a trick to be repeated in the next film in the series, A View To a Kill (1985). Because she is so thinly sketched, we don't really care about this change of heart and we certainly find Bond's seduction of her a bit baffling - all that nonsense about being "two of a kind" means nothing at all.

Former tennis star Vijay Amitraj comes and goes making no impact whatsoever as the luckless Vijay, while Kristina Wayborn smoulders nicely as Magda but again gets very little to do. Rather better served is Kabir Bedi whose Gobinda may be patently modelled on Goldfinger's Oddjob (he crushes the backgammon dice in the same way as Oddjob crushes the golf ball in the earlier film) but who gets rather more to do.

Of the two remaining villains, Steven Berkoff comes of worst, despite Berkoff's remarkable talents. The actor rants and struts for all he's worth, but is defeated by the fact that Orlov is a cliche, a thuggish charicature of the warmongering Russkie that one might have hoped would be confined to the rabble-rousing rhetoric of the Rambo films. Still, Berkoff is never anything less than compelling and he gives the role more gusto than might have been expected.

Louis Jourdan comes off much better and is the film's sole saving grace. Getting all the best lines
and stealing every scene he's in, Jourdan is the archetypal Bond villain, his suave exterior masking a ruthless and sadistic core. His best moment is the excellent dinner scene in which he not only grosses out Bond by eating a sheep's eye but also delivers some marvellous threats of impending violence and torture while keeping up the illusion of urbane charm. Without Jourdan, Octopussy would have been a lot less bearable.

The only other bright spot in this disappointing effort is a marvellous turn from the ever dependable Desmond Llewelyn as Q - not only is he as tetchy as ever, still impatient with Bond's behaviour, but he also gets to join in the action. He's an integral part of Bond's Indian investigations and even turns up at the end to guide in the balloon to allow Bond to rescue Octopussy - Q's final scene, surrounded by a small army of adoring Octopussy girls is a moment to treasure. It was nice too to see Walter Gotell back as the irrepressible Soviet agent General Gogol, getting a larger bite of the cherry this time out.

Another long time Bond team player wasn't so lucky - John Barry was on very poor form this time around and his title song, All Time High (performed by Rita Coolidge, with lyrics by Tim Rice) is easily the least memorable of them all and the first since Dr No (1962) (which had no theme song at all) not to mention the film's title in its lyrics. The rest of the soundtrack is simply uninspired and lacking the magic spark of Barry's other compositions.

It was painfully clear by this stage that the Bond series was in need of an urgent overhaul - the formula had become staid and Moore was so disinterested in the role now that he was positively damaging the series. Creative laziness was rife, with fear of change consigning the series to a downward spiral into mediocrity. It was a dangerous game to play - not only were there now an increasing number of action movie franchises to challenge Bond, where once the series had the field all to itself, but there was the challenge posed by Kevin McClory's 'unofficial' Bond, Never Say Never Again released later the same year. Luckily, Never Say Never Again proved to be as uninspired as the official series and posed no real threat. But other series (Mad Max, Rambo, the Indiana Jones films) were taking action movies into new pastures and the Bond films seemed reluctant to follow.

Once again, James Bond emerges as something of a clown (literally this time) and the sleek, sadistic killing machine of the Connery years were becoming an ever distant memory. Change was most definitely called for, but Eon Productions were the only ones not to realise it yet. Change would come, but we had a long way to go yet before Bond was to recapture the magic of old.
KEVIN LYONS