What Could Have Been: One Battle After Another

When you see the names Michael G. Wilson and Barbara Broccoli, you almost inevitably know that you are in for a James Bond film. The two longtime producers of the franchise (and children of original mastermind Albert R. “Cubby” Broccoli), have been working on these projects since the Timothy Dalton era. With closure now coming to the Daniel Craig era – his final Bond feature, No Time to Die, is slated for a November release, and talk has turned to who will be next to play the super spy. Ranging from Tom Hardy and Tom Hiddleston, to excited chants for Idris Elba to become the first black Bond, there have even been some people saying that it is the right time for the first female Bond. Dividing fans, purists (like myself) are not overly fond of the idea, while some ‘perhaps’ more modern leaning viewers love the idea.

I’ve been sitting on this ‘25 Films of the Decade’ list since the New Year. . . tinkering with it (crossing this one off and adding that one) – but, if I wait any longer, I’ll find myself in need of creating a new list for another decade. So, without further ado, here is this long awaited list (that no one even knew was coming). . . with a short description as to why each film made the cut.

Like The Exorcist hopped up on a lethal combination of steroids and Viagra, 1979's Malabimba, directed by envelope pushing Andrea Bianchi (for a reminder of his more well known work, think of his playfully edgy 1975 giallo Strip Nude for Your Killer), is an Italian motion picture not for the faint of heart. . . or you, like one of the characters in the film, might find yourself stone cold. Of course, reading this, I’m sure most will think that this is some sort of poorly done, sleazy exploitation piece attempting to capitalize on the aforementioned horror classic. And though the second sentiment is wholly true, the former is most definitely not so.

Let me start by saying that every James Bond film, be it ‘good’ or ‘bad’ (for lack of a better term), is special. Since 1962's Dr. No, Ian Fleming’s famed spy has lit up the silver screen, not only awing and entertaining (for even the most frustrating of Bond films still have those wow moments of action, or those most entertaining one liners), but also holding a magnifying glass up to the then present day – analysing current issues (such as The Cold War, The Space Race, North Korea. . . the list goes on and on). . . understanding when to be more jokey or serious, it is a measuring stick of an historical document that speaks to what was on people’s minds in that specific year. Now, you might be wondering – why oh why review Roger Spottiswoode’s 1998 film Tomorrow Never Dies – for it is arguably one of the less magical efforts in the franchise. Being a fan of all things Bond, I recently read the film’s novelization, written by Raymond Benson (who wrote three novelizations during the Pierce Brosnan era, as well as six original novels, and three short stories). . . and was quite impressed by how entertaining it was (which didn’t exactly compute with my memories of the film).

I will be the first to say that I absolutely love the great Mel Brooks. Secondly, I will also say that I absolutely love Alfred Hitchcock. So, to have a movie in which Mel Brooks satirizes the motion pictures of Alfred Hitchcock just seems like it would be pure twenty-four karat gold. Saying that, I probably went into 1977's High Anxiety with expectations that were just a bit too high. . . which caused me a touch of anxiety. Bringing together many of his usual comedy friends from his other 70s pictures, the plot follows the famed Dr. Richard Thorndyke (Mel Brooks) as he flies out to California for his new job – running the Psycho-Neurotic Institute for the Very, Very Nervous (a fenced complex that holds a sign that reads “Keep In”).

The year is 1977. . . and several movies are being hyped – none of which is Star Wars. Smokey and the Bandit, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, The Spy Who Loved Me. . . the list goes on and on, yet the George Lucas feature was not expected to go anywhere. Lucas had shown it to many of his friends (before it was even close to finished), Brian De Palma bluntly saying, “I don’t mean to sound harsh, but …what is this shit?". As the rest of his buddies concurred, the lone voice of support came from the one and only Steven Spielberg – seeing the potential and future for his friend’s creative vision. With a studio equally as unenthused – they released it on Wednesday, May 25th, in just over thirty theatres. . . Lucas decided to lick his wounds on the beaches in Hawaii. Yet, as you know, the unexpected occurred, and a little film called Star Wars became a worldwide juggernaut.