Starring: Roger Moore, Christopher Lee, Britt Ekland, Maud Adams, Herve Villechaize, Clifton James, Lois Maxwell, Desmond Llewellyn, and Bernard Lee as M.

Written by: Tom Mankiewicz and Richard Maibaum
Directed by: Guy Hamilton

Since, well, pretty much day one, The Man with the Golden Gun has been labelled by many fans as one of the weakest films, if not the weakest film, in the James Bond canon. Criticized for being light-weight and overtly silly, and regarded as the product of a creative dead period in the series, Golden Gun has been battered and bruised, discarded and dismissed, and left to wallow in the realms of "lesser" Bond. But is the horrendous reputation that has been bestowed upon The Man with the Golden Gun justified? In this individual's opinion "no, of course not, what sort of stupid question is that? What are you, brain damaged?".

Perhaps if people watched it with no preconceived notion, instead of waiting to pounce it's perceived flaws. I think Bond films, like everything else, develop a "reputation" that, whether justified or not, sticks to them like those security stickers that you sometimes get on the inside of the case of DVDs and are near impossible to peel off without leaving most of it behind.

I like Golden Gun because I prefer the Sean Connery Bond films, considering that period to be the glory days / golden age / definitive portrayal of Bond. Resigned to the fact that they'll probably never be another film of that "ilk", I am therefore welcoming The Man with the Golden Gun, the next best thing, into my heart. Because Take away the slide whistle, the slapstick gags and J.W. Pepper, and you've got yourself a 60s Bond film. Bright and vibrate, slick and streamline, with sharp dialogue, a daring attitude, and cinematography that makes you feel that you've actually just visited the location in question. The Man with the Golden Gun really is the last of the "old time" Bond travelogue thriller, and, dare I say it, the last "real" Bond film?

Connery/60s Bond plots were always appallingly basic but with one little kick to them. Take Goldfinger: Heavy wants to break into Fort Knox, the kick being that he doesn't want to steal any of the gold. From Russia with Love: Bond walks into an enemy trap, but it's not the enemy he thinks it is. Golden Gun? Premier hit-man challenges most worthy adversary to a duel, but it wasn't the hit-man who sent the bullet. Yeah, I know, Golden Gun also has that Solex Agitator filler, but that's been put in merely to raise the stakes. I'm willing to dismiss it on the basis that a) it isn't really that important, and b) it contradicts my argument.

Now take The World Is Not Enough (insert joke about how difficult it is to take The World is Not Enough here), or even something not quite as recent, like, say, Octopussy. A mess of unnecessarily complex plots and subplots, with muddled subtexts, parts that don't join and others that are hazily glossed over: Something or other about an all-female circus, an Afghan Price and a renegade Russian General who team up for various vague reasons involving real and fake jewels, a train, and a nuclear bomb. Fun film, Octopussy, but a tad flabby (worth it though, if only for that stuffed tiger jumping out of the bushes. I could watch that again and again and again. Well, maybe not three "again"s, but certainly two). It, and most of the Bond films of the 80's, really needed to have the fat trimmed. Simplicity is where it's at. It's not what you do but how you do it that counts, a fact they were clearly aware of in '74 (just for the hell of it, insert another joke about how difficult it is to take The World is Not Enough here).

The thing is, these films can really only go for about two hours, and more complicated the plot, the more time you have to devote to it. And the more time you have to devote to it, the less time you have for character moments and that delicious deviation, like Bond and Goodnight talking about where they will be in a year's time. Oh, it's not one of the all time great scenes by any means, but it's a good scene. It's a slice of life, a bit of insight into Bond and Goodnight, and it gives one the sense that these characters exist beyond the two hours that we see them for.

Another interesting plot point is that Bond has to actually go out and find Scaramanga. As usual Bond has a target, but for once it's not presented to him like a clay pigeon. He has to go seek his prey, follow leads (not unlike in You Only Live Twice), which gives us the chance to see him in different surroundings, visiting places like the dressing room of a belly dancer, and the dingy workshop of a specialist weapons manufacturer.

The scene at Lazar's workshop has this wonderful quality about it. It's a scene where we really feel that we're looking though a window into another world, a world of spies and shady characters. A world apart from us, intangible to us, and it's a small word too. Lazar knows who Bond is, in fact he would consider it the "proudest moment of his career" to make something for him. They discuss guns and bullets and general "shop talk", further evidence that this isn't the real world (even though there's an ordinary family eating dinner right outside). It's a secret world just for these few, a world that the rest of us don't know about (like Hai-Fat for example, who has "never heard of this James Bond"). It's a world that we only get a glimpse of it thanks to this scene.

One difference between the Golden Gun the novel and Golden Gun the film is the novels decision to hand Bond underdog status. In the novel, we have a Bond back from a long absence not at the top of his game, taking on Scaramanga on Scaramanga's home turf. Yes, Bond had been to Jamaica numerous times before, but this is Scaramanga's Jamaica, not Bond's. Golden Gun novel, when stripped down to it's most basic, might be a story about a king returning from exile to reclaim his throne from the young upstart who has taken over. While Golden Gun film, on the other hand, is the dream bout between the two top dogs, the "duel between titans" (in this regard, Die Another Day is considerably closer to Golden Gun novel than Golden Gun film is). Golden Gun the film is really more like a western. It's about the hero who rides into town to save the village from the gun-brandishing bandit (a plot similar, and not unintentionally so, to the film Shane).

Neither approach is better or worse, just different, but the advantage in the tact the film takes in playing Bond and Scaramanga as equals is that it's allows them to be presented as equals, as two sides of the same coin, with Scaramanga being the dark side of Bond. It's worth noting (maybe) here, however obvious and unoriginal a point it is, that Bond and Scaramanga both wear white for the majority of the film, joisting of the position of "good guy" status. Scaramanga, of course, even dresses his Bond mannequin in Black.

Novel Scaramanga is crude thug. Novel Scaramanga is nothing like Bond. The only thing Novel Scaramanga and Bond share is good marksmanship. Film Scaramanga, however, practically is Bond. Tall, dark hair, suit, and charming. Well, charming until his golden gun is assembled. Then he turns nasty. His killing of Hai-Fat is not far removed from Bond's killing of Dent in Dr. No, though that former act is made to feel more malicious. "He always did like the mausoleum… put him in it". It's a quip, the sort Bond would make, and while maybe the delivery has venom in the fangs as opposed to a Moore-esque twinkle in the eye, is there really much of a difference?

Luncheon at Scaramanga's is one of the best Bond / Heavy confrontations in the series. And not just as a nervous precursor to the inevitable duel, although that is part of the appeal. Here, Scaramanga accuses Bond of also being a Scaramanga, a notion that Bond quickly rejects, perhaps a little too quickly. Bond's argument is that when he kills, it's for Queen and Country. But is he trying to convince Scaramanga, or himself? "To us Mr. Bond, we are the best" Scaramanga says. Bond, however, is not keen on being part of the same collective as Scaramanga, "There's a certain four letter word and you're full of it". What an un-gentlemanly thing to say. What an un-Bond-like thing to say. Scaramanga clearly gets under Bond's skin Bond in a way that not other villain (or any character for that matter) has done, before or since. Bond wants to kill Scaramanga right there and then, and might very well have done so had Scaramanga not assembled his golden gun.

There's a lot to like about Roger Moore's portrayal of Bond in his first two films, particularly The Man with the Golden Gun. It has been described as a kind of Connery/Moore hybrid, although I think it's a little more tailored to Moore than that. It's Moore's Bond with a little more of an edge, and a lot closer to "Fleming's Bond" that it's given credit for.

In Live and Let Die, there's that scene with Rosie Carver right after Bond has made love to her, "Well, I certainly wouldn't have killed you before". In Golden Gun, it's the slapping around of Andrea in the hotel room, "I'll break it (her arm) if you don't tell me where those bullets go". And then his delivery of the line afterwards: "He may even use one of those little golden bullets on you. And that would be a pity… because they're very expensive" he says with just a hint of nastiness as he pours the drinks. It's a funny line, but funny because it's nasty, the darker humour of the older Bond films. This is a James Bond who isn't always a nice guy.

That's not to say that the film's without fault. The frequently cited problems with Golden Gun aren't unjustified. There are a few (oft pointed out) unfunny gags, such as J.W. Pepper, Phu-yuck, the karate girls and the dreaded slide whistle (although the film is hardly littered with them, and, as stated previously, they don't really tarnish the overall tone of the piece), and M and Q seem to have become a bickering old married couple ("oh, shut up Q!"). Also, the film is a little short on genuine thrills; there isn't a lot of action, and when there is action, it isn't terribly interesting action (I'm trying to think of a word to describe the boat and car chases and all I can come up with is "meh"), and, after all the promise and hype, the eventual duel between Bond and Scaramanga is a tad underwhelming. The fun house is cheap, tacky and gimmicky. What we really wanted to see was a battle of skill and wits, Bond and Scaramanga running around the island, hiding among the rocks and trees in a game of cat-and-mouse, the ultimate showdown (a (sadly) cut scene had Bond tricking Scaramanga and Scaramanga revealing a second bullet he had hidden in his belt buckle). As it is the title fight isn't quite worthy of its competitors.

Nevertheless, The Man with the Golden Gun remains a fun, entertaining Bond film, boasting great locations, witty dialogue, a fantastic villain, an amazing stunt, and, gosh darn it, a very good James Bond. It's not perfect, but it is colossally underrated by most, and is far better than the panning it receives would suggest. It's a pity it doesn't possess the near-universally-agreed-upon "classic" status that less-deserving Bonds like The Spy Who Loved Me have, because I think it warrants that kind of acclaim. It really is that good.