The Glory of ‘GoldenEye’

Although we have heard the words “James Bond Is Back” many times, they hit differently thirty years ago today. Because GOLDENEYE was much more than the return of James Bond as a character. It was the return of that driving force which Bond represents. Those stories “for warm-blooded heterosexuals in railway trains, aeroplanes and beds” (Ian Fleming dixit) and the unbreakable formula established in 1962 by producers Albert R “Cubby” Broccoli and Harry Saltzman translated into the mid-1990s, that world of new threats and enemies the trailers anticipated.

Between 1989 and 1995, there was a lot of discussion regarding how to adapt Bond to a new world order set by the fall of the Soviet Union. This new world brought the emergence of space weapons and the internet, the idea of a female civilian running British Intelligence, and a time of distractions where patriotic values seemed obsolete. Free-market economy ruled it all. Suits and tuxedos weren’t exactly outdated, but action heroes felt more comfortable in tank tops or ripped t-shirts, far from Bond’s sartorial tastes. Taking this scenario into account, the easiest way for the executives would have been to chicken out and start doing a series of period piece films set in the 1950s or 1960s. That way, they would have put the challenges of the 1990s aside and stuck Bond in the past. Another easy option could have been to have Fleming’s creation wearing a sweaty t-shirt and a machine gun, replacing casinos and secret lairs with more urbane locations to make sure he’s joining the (soon to arrive) 21st century as Valentin Zukovsky suggested. But GOLDENEYE didn’t.

And this is the reason why the return of 007 on November 17, 1995, wasn’t merely the return of a character named James Bond whose copyright was licensed to Danjaq. With the same impact of the tank destroying the walls of the Military Archives in one of the film’s most celebrated sequences, GOLDENEYE serves as a statement of Bond’s mightiness and supremacy over other vulgar action heroes. The whole tone of the film establishes that, while there are shots that could have belonged to a science fiction film or elements that represent a very 1990s filmmaking style, Bond is different. In a Bond film, you see the paradisiacal beaches Ian Fleming could have enjoyed, the lifestyle of Monte Carlo and its casino riddled with wealthy gamblers. And you have a stylish protagonist who races a modern Ferrari in winding mountain roads with his 1964 Aston Martin DB5. The same man who only requires a towel and a couple of rapid moves to take down an assailant coming from behind his back. A trained professional who always has the right escape plan for every situation. True, he has gadgets, but he definitely knows how to use them (as we were first reminded in 1969’s ON HER MAJESTY’S SECRET SERVICE).

The return of the gunbarrel sequence at the beginning of the film, with a morphing digital touch courtesy of Daniel Kleinman, serves as a symbol for the whole idea behind the film: have no doubts you’re watching a Bond film. It may look modern, yes, but don’t forget this is a Bond film and you know how Bond films are and what to expect from them, save for a few little twists. As soon as Pierce Brosnan shot the screen and the blood came down, both the 10-year-old son and the 30-something father could understand they were watching something that was part of what the collective unconscious defines as “James Bond”. No introductions or explanations needed. No justifications. No “different timelines”, no “alternate continuity”. It was only enough to tell a newcomer to the franchise: “This is Bond. He’s a British spy, dresses well, saves the world and gets the girl”. There was no need to hide the fact that the world has changed, just like there was no need to change James Bond.

GOLDENEYE never feels the need to justify the character’s presence in a new era. Bond never apologises for being Bond, even when many characters submit him to an indirect trial of sorts where he’s considered useless, or labelled as a “sexist, misogynist dinosaur”. The new M makes it clear she doesn’t like him, but quickly enough, she puts her trust in him – a fact that is made even more evident at the beginning of the next film, TOMORROW NEVER DIES. His CIA contact, Jack Wade, scoffs at Bond’s attachment to the protocol, but eventually becomes a valuable ally. Even his long-time enemy Valentin Zukovsky gives him a hard time when the secret agent drops in uninvited, but two films later, he would use his last breath to save 007 as THE WORLD IS NOT ENOUGH reaches its climax. GOLDENEYE gives us an old-fashioned Bond, who is far from outdated. He may not have Natalya Simonova’s knowledge of programming, but he knows how to handle an IBM ThinkPad computer (cutting-edge stuff, back in the day). He’s updated enough to understand how the Russian fail-safe systems work and the effects of an Electromagnetic pulse weapon. In a film where several characters try to make him look as obsolete, Bond is stronger than ever before and unapologetically tells the world: “This is who I am, I saved the whole lot of you, I don’t need to change a bit”.

Leaving the hero behind, GOLDENEYE has interesting characters, perhaps one of the few Bond films where every character is essential to the story, representing something or someone. Xenia Onatopp and Boris Grishenko represent the children of a modern, post-Glasnost Russia, all enjoying the luxuries of the West (notice Xenia’s Ferrari and Boris’ punk-influenced costumes). While many would argue that the latter is irrelevant to the plot, the enemy plan depends on his programming knowledge and John Gardner’s novelisation evidences that, while he’s extremely disrespectful to his superiors, he can’t be fired from Severnaya because they won’t find someone as good in his post as him. General Ourumov represents the decadent mightiness of the Red Army pride, affected by the new generation of politicians like Dimitri Mishkin, who gets his chance (much like M does to Bond) to remind the General that the kind of people he despised are now above him. Alec Trevelyan and Valentin Zukovsky are a testimony to spies left behind by the emergence of new politics, resorting to illicit activities to keep going with their agendas. In different ways and for different reasons, both men are repelled by Bond’s loyalty to Queen and Country. This is not too dissimilar to Jack Wade, who is more interested in banyan trees and tobacco plants than in his duty. The leading lady, Natalya Simonova, is given a good portion of screentime and has her own action scene long before her encounter with the secret agent. And just as Bond disables the antenna manually and comes face to face with his former friend, Natalya has her own computerised battle with Boris as she tries to send the GoldenEye weapon off course. Needless to say, the main inspiration for Judi Dench’s M was no other than the late Stella Rimington, who made several changes as the head of the real-life British Intelligence back in the 1990s, even authorised the publication of a 36-page booklet disclosing details on how MI5 worked.

Most celebratory reviews of GOLDENEYE will talk about the set pieces, the witty one-liners, Tina Turner’s song and the fact that 007 returned after a six-year hiatus. Or use it as an opportunity to (unfairly) lambast Eric Serra’s score and the other three Pierce Brosnan big screen adventures. But on this thirtieth anniversary, we would like to stress that this film imposed the formula for a new decade instead of betraying it, and that it echoed the importance of a Bond who didn’t bow down to the many cultural trends of the 1990s. Bond has returned from a long absence, but he wasn’t lost – a far cry from what we have today, a mere brand and iconography divorced of its true meaning: the character “vanishing” out of that bloodless gunbarrel sequence in the films, its literary and video game version falling into a myriad of reboots and in-between novels going back to the past (“I always make it a rule never to look back,” said Ian Fleming), and a couple of spin-off novels where Bill Tanner –aka Bond’s best friend in the service– hangs himself after being discovered as a mole. An excess of nihilism has taken over Bond’s soul under the excuse of moving on with the times, resorting to the cheap tools of the trade of franchises that are very popular and successful in their own right, but lack the finesse and uniqueness of what the world’s greatest secret agent has always represented.

GOLDENEYE was much more than a Bond film; it was a statement to Bond’s glory and mightiness as the ultimate action hero, coming in a time when the world seemed to reject him. Three decades later, let’s raise our Martini glasses for a toast. Here’s to the sexist, misogynist dinosaur and to the woman who enjoyed a good squeeze. Here’s to the thorough evaluations, the second-level programmers and the lip services. Here’s to the Lienz Cossacks, the three minutes instead of six, the small talk and chit-chats, the foreplay and the boys with the toys.

Here’s to thirty years of GOLDENEYE! There is still no substitute!

Nicolás Suszczyk,

Founder and Editor,

THE GOLDENEYE DOSSIER