Will The Real James Bond
Stand Up Part V-Pierce Brosnan’s “Die Another Day” (2002)-A Film Review
DVD Review
By former Associate Film
Critic Alden Riley
Die Another Day,
starring Pierce Brosnan, Halle Berry 2002
I have been warned off,
warned off complaining about the loss of my hard-fought for title of Associate Film
Critic which was leading me with Sandy Salmon’s retirement to being the Senior
Film Critic pretty soon. As anybody who has been paying attention to this space
now knows there has been a just completed internal power struggle and the
creation of a new regime under the leadership of site manager Greg Green. Greg,
although fobbing off the decision officially on his rubber-stamp Editorial
Board, has abolished titles under some obscure democratic theory that every
writer, young or old, male or female, gay or straight, white or not, should just
write under their God-given names (his term) and that alone.
That is one thing I have
been warned off of talking about in this by-line. The other the current
campaign to obliterate the name and the work of the former site manager Allan
Jackson in the name of “leaving the past behind,” “moving on” or whatever the
day’s excuse for creating non-persons is like this was the old-time Soviet
Union and Allan, yes, Allan Jackson, was like his buddy, like some latter day
Leon Trotsky knocked off his pedestal by an avenging angel Stalin (and his
minions). I said in my last review, my review of beautiful James Bond worthy
Pierce Brosnan’s The World Is Not Enough that
while the amnesty Sam Lowell negotiated for pieces in the pipeline prior to the
agreement lasted I would use this space as a bully pulpit to cry shame on those
who want to liquidate the memory of Allan Jackson. (I have also mentioned that
due to some crazy things Allan did to me, made me do, last year out of hubris there
was no love lost when he went into exile rumored to be out in Utah somewhere
after the purge so this is bigger than a personal issue, a lot bigger.)
Here’s the funny part,
not laughter funny either I was not warmed off by Greg Green. Greg wouldn’t do
that he would have one of his lackeys on the Ed Board like Lenny Lynch or “Timid”
Timmy Walton give the axe. No I was warned off by Sandy Salmon, warned off by none
other than my old “boss” and fellow combative in this so-called titanic
struggle between my sweet baby James Pierce Brosnan and his hoary old goat
ready for assisted living quarters Sean Connery Bond, the guy who started the
whole twenty-plus episodes back in 1949 or some time like that. Sandy, an old defender
of Allan Jackson in the internal fight, apparently has gotten weepy Sean Connery-like
now that Greg and the toadies have pulled the hammer down. Have implied you are
either with us or against us and if you are against us then you will have fun
reviewing re-runs of I Love Lucy or
worse reviewing super-hero comic book figures made into films. Whatever, I will
not bow until I am sure that the amnesty is over and I have to toe the line, or
else. And maybe I will take the “or else” road.
I will never forget that
Sandy had taken my side on one of the immediate causes of the internal fight
last year when Allan had gone over his head and ordered me to write a stinking
review about a has-been blues singer, a girl from Texas, Janis Joplin, whom I had
never heard of but who was supposed to be some mover and shaker in the 1960s
when a lot of the older writers for this blog got their starts in life-and never
forgot it or let us forget it. But this warning off business is way beyond his
grade level-now. I won’t say more but it is rather indicative that Sandy’s
bowing down to the powers that be now kind of puts paid to his devotion to the
old tiger Sean as Bond, James Bond.
In any case I have
review to do and I might as well get to it. Although both Sandy and I should be
heartily fed-up with this by now pabulum Bond series since with the exception
of a few name and bad guy organization changes, a few less dumb but beautiful young
women who last read a book in about 1980 and more agent-like women, a sea-change
number of high tech gizmos and a revolving door of male stars to carry the
water in the role they are all the fucking same. The same no matter how much dough,
moola, kale, they make for their production companies.
Take this 2002, damn I
almost forgot the name, Die Another Day,
too bad they couldn’t fork up some script-writer dough for some real title better
than grade school choices. That 2002 should ring a bell since that is post-9/11
axis of evil time with one of those axes being North Korea this time rather
than the old tired out Soviet Union-China-SPECTRE bashing. Here a rogue Harvard-educated,
that tells a lot, North Korean colonel named Moon with influence in high places
is running a scam operation to deal with conflict diamonds in order to amass a
ton of dough to act the rich spoiled boy wonder of the world. He is aided by his
comrade the nefarious Zao. This pair is on Mister Bond’s hit list since they
have had him captured, imprisoned and tortured to perdition for fourteen months.
The big story here though is that Jimmy has been betrayed by somebody in MI6, been
done in by one his own. He righteously seeks revenge and maybe stop the
conflict diamond trade and save the known world in the bargain.
When that Colonel Moon and
Zao disappear (you can see the film if you want to know how and why) after a
losing fight with Jimbo they reappear in Cuba (always need to the get the
commie, even if tame commie angle in these never forget the Cold War that
spawned you sagas) with genetically altered faces, more Western less Asia
faces, to start their activities to destroy Western Civilization as we know it.
Of course these post-World War II days dinky shrunken British Empire secret
agents don’t have that game to themselves. The NSA have their agent, beautiful,
smart, resourceful and bed-worthy under the silky sheets Jinx, played by foxy Halle
Berry on the case. (You don’t even have to ask whether James and Jinx hit the
sheets nor do you have to ask whether his female adversary, he MI6 agent who betrayed
him, who is helping the Colonel and Zao is to be found in his bed since our
James is an equal opportunity bed-mate.)
The long and short of it
is the Colonel and Zao (and their female playmate) all go down in the mud after
a million fights, scrapes, collisions and those best laid plans of mice and men
of Colonel Moon and his cadre go asunder. As James and Jinx go under. Here’s
Pierce’s beauty. Who wouldn’t go crazy to have a secret agent who can surf, fly
an airplane, or any flying object, a hovercraft, ski, leap tall buildings at a
single bound, drive every kind of exotic car, hold his breathe forever under
water, drink hard liquor, hit the sheets with smart and/or evil women and never
put in an expense account. All for her majesty. Sean would go dizzy just
thinking about that, except maybe to hit on that eye candy who hasn’t read a book
since 1949.
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