I mention that in light of how narrative art portrays its male protagonists, and how they’re perceived by the public. June marks the 8th month since Harvey Weinstein was outed as a serial predator. Despite the countless predators that’ve been outed in since November of 2017, as well as the fervour it’s created in its wake, there’s been little change in Hollywood’s depictions of sex and masculinity in film. Males are still seen as romanticized magnets for women, and nowhere is this more-apparent than with James Bond himself.
Before anyone gets angry, I want to give a disclaimer: I like James Bond. I don’t like a lot of his movies, I find most of them boring, but he’s proven himself quite a versatile character. Plus, there’s no denying a love of watching someone fulfill my every testosterone-filled fantasy on-screen, especially in ways that’d get me arrested. He’s the embodiment of what many men wish they could be, which is all-the-more reason why it’s important to recognize how much of a bad role-model he is.
James Bond got his cinematic start in 1962 with Dr. No, where he has his ever-so-famous name-drop during a poker game. It’s an iconic line for many reasons, but it also sets up who Bond is: he’s charming, slick, playful, intelligent and loves cigarettes. The movie also adapted a feature present in the books, yet dialled it down in order to keep up with the latter years of The Hays Code: his lust for women. It’s made most-apparent in Ursula Andress’s first appearance in the film, where she comes out of the ocean in a bikini and you know exactly what the “prize” is.
This lust for women surfaces in pretty much every Bond movie. In Goldfinger, arguably one of the best Bond entries, there’s a scene where Bond seduces Pussy Galore, the film’s main Bond girl, in an attempt to win-over Auric Goldfinger. The scene involves Bond pinning Galore to the ground, while she resists, culminating with a kiss. And to soothing music. Charming.
For all it’s done for films as a whole, or even the spy sub-genre, Goldfinger’s romantic component hasn’t really aged all that well. Whether it’s Bond smacking a bikini-clad love interest on her rear without consent, or the aforementioned sex scene, Bond comes off as hostile, aggressive and predatory. And it makes the movie’s romantic scenes uncomfortable to watch with a 21st Century lens. But perhaps that’s a “reflection of the times”, making it an unfair critique.
So let’s fast-forward to much later in the James Bond franchise and discuss a more recent entry, Tomorrow Never Dies. The 35 years between Dr. No and the aforementioned film would’ve seen huge advancements in the franchise and the social conscious as a whole, but has Bond changed? Or is the pretense of Bond being asked to sleep with the married wife of the film’s antagonist proof that he hasn’t? We know he no longer smokes, something he makes clear in the opening scene, but has his womanizing really disappeared? The answer, obviously, is no.
Perhaps that’s not entirely fair; after all, Tomorrow Never Dies came out during a mediocre decade of action films and was a mediocre Bond film in a mediocre Bond run. You’re bound to have less-than-stellar portrayals of masculinity when your film isn’t trying all that hard. We can even handwave the feminism of the 90’s a bit because women in film tended to suffer greatly during that decade. That, and, honestly, Pierce Brosnan’s take on the character never spoke to me anyway. Therefore, I think the best way to accurately assess Bond’s toxicity is to look at his current portrayal by Daniel Craig.
In Casino Royale, we see a vengeful, jerkish Bond drown a rogue informant in a sink, chase down another rogue informant that he later kills, chase down yet another rogue informant in an airport and, of course, shoot a rogue informant in the leg when it’s revealed that he might have information on his dead girlfriend. He also sleeps with a married woman to get information, causing her death, and falls in-love with an operative he initially distrusts. He doesn’t force himself on her, for a change, but there’s still a bit of the classic Bond in his relationship with Vesper Lynd. In other words, little has changed since 1962 when it comes to how Bond views women.
Moving on to Skyfall, Bond only has one creepy sex scene: it centres around him travelling to Hong Kong to find out who’s been leaking the names of Mi6 operatives. After a semi-inappropriate striptease with a fellow operative, which is cut short by the reality that she’s trying to shave his face, Bond meets up with a prostitute. Despite her initial fear for her life, said prostitute agrees to help him. And, true to franchise tradition, Bond breaks into her apartment while she’s showering and screws her.
Smooth.
This leads to Spectre. Long-time readers of my work will remember what I thought of Spectre, but it’s worth noting that Craig’s Bond’s at his toxic worst here. Not only does he force himself on a recently-widowed woman who’s older than him for information, in what’s arguably the most rape-y scene in the franchise, but he winds up with yet another Bond girl, Madeline Swan, in an attempt to uncover the true mastermind. Initially, the situation looks to be going fine: the two share chemistry, they have a mutual respect for one-another, and Swan even sets boundaries. It’s only once the two are attacked on a train by a henchman, whom they defeat by accident, that they’re left wondering what to do next.
So they have sex. And it’s awkward. And it’s uncomfortable. And it reeks of desperation, completely spitting in the face of everything that was established prior.
Perhaps I wouldn’t care if this sort of “get the woman, no matter what” mentality was anomalous to James Bond. But toxic behaviours have long half-lives. That Indiana Jones lifts heavily from the James Bond franchise, right down to Indy’s forceful romanticism, should be indication. That Harrison Ford’s 80’s persona breathed forceful romance, right down to one of his characters openly raping someone, should be indication. That Peter Quill’s character from the Guardians of the Galaxy movies openly deconstructs this sort of behaviour, while simultaneously engaging in facets of it, should also be indication.
Even in real-life, the effects of this behaviour can be seen through incel culture, which preaches that men must take revenge on society because women “refuse to have sex with them”. Elliot Rodgers was incel, as was the guy from Toronto who mowed down bystanders with his van. Incel behaviour might not directly be influenced by James Bond, but if the Superman kid mentioned in the start of this piece is any example, then it’s definitely symptomatic of it. Media plays a big part in shaping how we view society, for better or worse.
I’m not saying the Bond movies should be boycotted, as that’s an absurd reaction to largely-forgettable (and occasionally-enjoyable) films. I’m also not saying that common-sense shouldn’t be used when viewing this content, as it should. But I do feel that it’s time for James Bond’s standard of masculinity to rehabilitate itself. I don’t care if that “ruins who he is”: If Harrison Ford has spent the last decade deconstructing the characters that made him famous, then James Bond, which has directly influenced Ford’s repertoire, should nix its “trophy girl” mentality.
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