On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969)

Poor George Lazenby...

He's become almost the forgotten Bond, the man who only played him once and who never became the household name that Connery or Moore did. And in truth while he's no Connery, he's certainly not as bad as some have made him out to be. Beside an ill-judged joke in the pre-credit sequence (which was nothing to do with him anyway), his performance is a lot better than most contemporary critics would have us believe and certainly didn't warrant the vitriolic assault mounted by the popular press of the day (see Critical Mass). Broccoli was kinder and offered a truer assessment of Lazenby's work on the film: "It's true he's not Olivier." he told the Sunday Times, "but Olivier could not play Bond in any circumstances. In fairness to George, he must have something Olivier doesn't have. There will be a lot of tear stains on the bank deposit slips."

Given the tribulations of its creation, it's astounding that OHMSS turned out to be the film it did. Long disregarded by die-hard Bond fans who simply couldn't accept Lazenby as a replacement for Connery, the film has earned a reputation that it simply doesn't deserve. Rather than the turgid disaster it has all too-often been painted as, OHMSS is in fact one of the very best entries in the series. Packed to the rafters with non-stop action scenes and memorable supporting roles, it neatly tops the extravagances of You Only Live Twice and, in retrospect, was the last entirely successful Bond film for many, many years.

Whether it be the stunning ski chase sequence (the first of Bond's many visits to the piste), the exhilarating bob sleigh chase or the brutal hand-to-hand fights (easily the nastiest of the series so far), the action in OHMSS is relentless and breathtaking. Indeed the set pieces are so well staged that the destruction of Piz Gloria almost seems anti-climactic.

But it's often the quieter moments of OHMSS that impress the most - the Hitchcockian infiltration of Gumbold's office, for example (restaged after a fashion in The World is Not Enough (1999)), or the touching way in which Moneypenny rescues both Bond and M from embarrassing situations. And then of course there's that ending...

The Bond films can be accused of being many things, but possession of emotional depth is rarely a charge levelled at the franchise. But in the final few minutes - and it's thanks largely to Lazenby's excellent performance - the Bond films suddenly achieve new levels of audience involvement. The image of a sobbing Bond, cradling Tracy's body and insisting that everything's going to be all right, that she's only sleeping, was certainly not one fans of the series were expecting and it's possible that it was the downbeat ending that gave the film the poor reputation it's suffered over the years. The irony of John Barry's classic We Have All the Time in the World (movingly rendered by Louis Armstrong) is certainly not lost (Barry in fact was on top form here, turning in perhaps the best overall score for any Bond film).

Savalas makes for a sinister and refreshingly different Blofeld. His portrayal has all too often been curtly dismissed as being too 'American', but in truth it's a fine showing, giving Blofeld a physicality he lacked in previous films. He's ably supported by Ilse Steppat who puts in a nice turn as the revolting Irma Bunt, cast from the same grotesque mould as From Russia With Love (1963)'s Rosa Klebb.

Though perhaps a little over-long, On Her Majesty's Secret Service remains one of the great Bond films, certainly the last wholly satisfying entry in the series until the coming of the new-look Bond, in the shape of Pierce Brosnan, in the mid-1990s.
KEVIN LYONS