Moonraker - An under-appreciated classic

Let me ask you a question: If you shoot up the flight deck of a Handley Page HP.137 Jetstream 1, will it render it un-pilotable?
Before you answer that may I ask another? If you were contracted to kill a notorious British secret agent and had succeeded in luring him into your Jetstream with the promise of champagne and high altitude sex, would it not be better to just shoot him and spare him the opportunity to escape?

While you are here, perhaps you’ll indulge me with a third question… If one of your accomplices was a 7’2” assassin with metal teeth and proven experience in combat with the notorious British secret agent, would it not be wiser to bring him into the plan a little earlier? Why wait until after he’s kicked your gun out of your hand, and succeeded in pushing you out of the plane before unleashing the enormous brute?

The answer to these questions is of course: yes, no and obviously not.

These are the rules of Moonraker and along with the spectacular (and spectacularly ludicrous) mid-air parachute combat sequence, those rules and its tone are laid out before the opening credits roll. The film’s cold open sets its stall out from the outset. This film is going to be ridiculous, so you’d better get used to it because the theatre manager says no refunds.

And it diligently adheres to those rules and tone throughout the film. No one who watches Moonraker can complain that it is ridiculous and absurd. To do so would be like complaining that a Chicken Korma is too mild. It may be true but it is not a measure of quality. I’ve had some ropey kormas in my time and I’ve seen some bad James Bond films, many times. However, while Moonraker is ridiculous, it is not a bad James Bond film.

Originally intended to be For Your Eyes Only, the success of Star Wars in 1977 encouraged Cubby Broccoli to utilise the moderately spacey title of Ian Fleming’s “Moonraker” and send James Bond into orbit. Recalled to script the film was Christopher Wood, who co-penned the previous Bond outing, The Spy Who Loved Me; a box office smash hit that breathed new life into what was becoming a tired movie franchise. Its successor is essentially the same film only in space rather than underwater. The key differences is that it lacks the zing of Spy and its humour is baked into the movie rather than being sprinkled over the top.

Almost all the action sequences in Moonraker end with a sight gag: Jaws, snapping the rip chord of his parachute and landing on a circus big top; secondary henchman; Chang, getting punched through a plate glass clock and into a grand piano; Jaws, again getting involved in an amusing cable car accident. Not to mention the hapless assassin, masquerading as an ambulance worker, crashing into a giant billboard of an advert for British Airways.

These kind of gags, to fans who prefer a more gritty and down-to-earth Bond adventure, place Moonraker pretty low in their personal rankings. Indeed, in my younger days I too eschewed the film for what I perceived to be its lack of authenticity.

But as time has passed I have learned to appreciate Moonraker as a classic piece of absurd cinema from an increasingly bygone era.

By maintaining a consistent level of absurdity and obeying its rules, the audience is ready for inevitable journey into space when the space shuttles launch from their secret launch pads in the Amazon. James Bond can withstand the g-forces involved in breaking out of the Earth’s atmosphere because of his encounter with the ultra high centrifuge chamber earlier in the film (a moment of peril which was resolved by 007 shooting the control panel and grinding the spinning death machine to a halt. Remember, in this film shooting control panels stops stuff from working).

By introducing the hokey laser guns as being used by a guy in a habit in Q’s lab, we are ready for the enormous and ridiculous space laser battle. Throughout the film its nonsense is constantly reinforced. This is a world where you don’t shoot the guy in the head before jumping out of a plane but where you do use the knife thrower in a coffin before you use the gunmen in the speedboat.

Backing up this large scale hi-jinks is a set of production values that are second to none for the time. Moonraker was an Anglo-French joint venture, filmed in large part in the iconic Studio de Boulogne where Ken Adam, by now at the peak of his powers, constructed his lavish sets.

The movie was shot by Jean Tournier, the veteran French Director of Photography gives the film a richer colour pallet, aided in no small part by the gorgeous backdrops of Venice and Rio de Janeiro. All the characters are immaculately turned out in outfits that were of their time but not overzealous. And all this guided by seasoned director Lewis Gilbert who knew his way around a Bond film.

The villain of the piece, while once regarded as a cheesy throwback, has now become relevant again. Michael Lonsdale’s Hugo Drax is a billionaire with a three syllabled name and an obsession with the conquest of space. Sound familiar? For Moonraker read Space X and for Hugo Drax read Elon… I’ve said too much. In all seriousness though, the megalomaniac with his underground/undersea/orbital complex was out of fashion for a while but today our industry and governments our dominated by such men. Drax’ scheme may be unrealistic but the character’s ruthlessness and lack of empathy for his species is entirely relatable.

Moonraker also boasts one of the best Bond girls of the franchise despite her carry-on style name. Holly Goodhead is smart, qualified, good in a fight, an astronaut and takes no shit from Bond, even after she’s fucked him. Lois Chile’s caustic portrayal lends extra class and chemistry to their relationship.

This is also probably the last turn from Roger Moore before he starts to look older than you’d expect of James Bond. Moore is immaculately turned out and presents the appearance of an actor who has taken full ownership of his character.

Yes it has it’s problems: the plot is second hand and pedestrian. The racial stereotyping, although not as bad as other Bond films before or since is still pretty cringe-worthy to modern eyes. Bond’s seduction of Corine Dufour then leaving her to a gruesome murder is pretty disgusting. I’d like to say that the Bond franchise has left that sort of misogyny behind but I’d be wrong.

However, these are reasons for not liking James Bond films, rather than reasons for not liking this James Bond film. Although there are other reasons, native to the film.

The return of Jaws was probably a mistake. In The Spy Who Loved Me, Richard Kiel’s metal toothed colossus had a great blend of horror and humour. In Moonraker, the carnival scene in Rio, aside, he’s mostly played for laughs and the love interest, while necessary to demonstrate his transformation into a goodie, lacked sincerity and this attribute is essential to the film’s success.

Among the pet pythons, double taking pigeons, mid-air wrestling, coffin based assassins, astronaut shoot-outs and an overtone of innuendo and gags, Moonraker is still a film that takes itself seriously. There are no nods and winks to the audience. The film succeeds, to my mind, in bringing us into its universe for a couple of hours and keeps us there until it’s time to go back to reality. There are plenty of Bond films that fall short in that endeavor and check us out early. That is why Moonraker deserves a higher reputation that it currently enjoys.
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