Now With More Than 3000 Reviews! Go Nuts - Read 'Em All!!

WELCOME! Use the search engines on this site (or your own off-site engine of choice) to gain easy access to the complete MAKSQUIBS Archive; over 2500 posts and counting. (New posts added every day or so.)

You can check on all our titles by typing the Title, Director, Actor or 'Keyword' of your choice in the Search Engine of your choice (include the phrase MAKSQUIBS) or just use the BLOGGER Search Box at the top left corner of the page.

Feel free to place comments directly on any of the film posts and to test your film knowledge with the CONTESTS scattered here & there. (Hey! No Googling allowed. They're pretty easy.)

Send E-mails to MAKSQUIBS@yahoo.com . (Let us know if the TRANSLATE WIDGET works!) Or use the Profile Page or Comments link for contact.

Thanks for stopping by.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

THUNDERBALL (1965)

Bloat came early to the James Bond series; by the fourth film. Not so much in passing a two-hour running time, but in selling size for its own sake, slowing things down as much as this outing’s misguided underwater battle scenes. (Who is that man behind the scuba mask? Do karate chops work in the ocean?) No longer merely a film series, or even a franchise, BOND was now an institution. And so it has remained. Bondsman come & go, some better than others: playful Roger Moore; dour Tim Dalton; suffering Daniel Craig. But note how key supporting players hang around to show the ropes to the new hires. They know the lay-out. THUNDERBALL had a huge anticipation factor, but it’s quality was slightly below average. It’s the one with Tom Jones on the title track; a breakaway yacht; two purloined atomic bombs; Adolfo Celi making like Aristotle Onassis as the villain; heavy foreign accents on the luscious femmes fatales; and a jet-pack for one. So what if the sadism & sexism have the slight moldy smell of a stack of PLAYBOY Magazines left in the basement, Sean Connery’s hair-piece is keeping up appearances.

DOUBLE-BILL: DR. NO/’62; FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE/’63; and GOLDFINGER/’64 are (respectively) 20, 15 & 20 minutes tighter. Better in other ways, too. OR: the unofficial, unhappy remake NEVER SAY NEVER AGAIN/’83. With a witless title that tells all.

No comments: