Showing posts with label james bond. Show all posts
Showing posts with label james bond. Show all posts

Thursday, January 23, 2025

Why Donald Trump and Elon Musk Are Bad Villains

On a Facebook page devoted to the (sadly fictional) character of Superman, someone wrote, "It sure feels like Lex Luthor is president again."

In 1986, following the series Crisis On Infinite Earths, the character of Luthor was rewritten by DC Comics, as not merely a mad scientist, about the same age as Superman, but as a corrupt businessman, several years older. Some people speculated that the character was based on Donald Trump, as he was then.

In the year 2000, within DC continuity, having appeared to have done a lot of good with his fortune, Luthor gets elected President, despite never having served in elective office. Eventually, all that power goes to his head, and he ends up overplaying his hand, allowing Superman and Batman to expose him, and getting impeached and removed from office before he can run for re-election.

On the TV show Smallville, where he was depicted as roughly the same age as Superman, he goes on to become President.

Back to that Facebook entry: Someone responded: "Why would Luthor want to limit his political power by being a senator or governor? He already owns most of those people in the DCU." (Meaning, "The DC Universe.")

That's what so many people don't understand about villainy. So many villains, in movies and in TV cartoons, say they want to "Take over the world."

They never ask themselves a key question: "What would happen if you actually won?"

(Note: I am aware that I use the word "actually" too much, both in speech and in writing. Deal with it.)

If you actually took over the world, you'd actually have to govern. That means it's all on you. That means policing. Firefighting. Garbage pickup. Fixing potholes. Plowing snow. You wanted to be the King. The Emperor. Surprise: What you really are is the damn Mayor of the World. Yeah, you can delegate, but you gotta have guys who actually get it done.

Supposedly, Nikita Khrushchev, dictator of the Soviet Union from 1953 to 1964, said, "You can feed the people with revolutionary slogans today, and tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow. But, the next day, they will say, 'To Hell with you.'" Eventually, there will be a counter-revolution.

That's why the best James Bond villain isn't his arch-rival, Ernst Stavro Blofeld, or any of these other "take over the world" types. It's Raymond Carver, the media mogul played by Jonathan Pryce in the 1997 film Tomorrow Never Dies, obviously based on Rupert Murdoch (and his character was married to a woman played by Teri Hatcher, who was then playing Lois Lane on TV).

Carver found a way to get all the power he wanted, without having the responsibility. That's what Trump wanted, and that's what Elon Musk wanted: To eliminate the truth of Spider-Man's slogan: "With great power, there must also come great responsibility."

They don't care what's left of the world after they get what they want. The smart ones are the ones who don't make their ambitions so obvious, and want to keep the world running while they make their money and keep their power.

Murdoch keeps the world running, and has found ways to benefit when things are going well for most people, and also when they aren't. He's a bad person, but a great villain.

But Trump? and Musk? And Mark Zuckerberg? They see people mocking them, even after their success. And for this, they believe those people must be punished. Trump, Musk and Zuckerberg are bad villains. Poor excuses for villains.

(Jeff Bezos? Remains to be seen whether he's a good villain or a bad villain, but he's definitely exposed himself as a villain.)

Someone, referring to Batman and his villains, once said that a villain wants to make others feel his pain, while a hero wants to prevent others from feeling his pain.

When Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde addressed Trump at the post-Inauguration service, and called on him to show mercy to those who were afraid of the policies he promised -- asking him to act like the man at the center of the religion he claims to follow -- he lashed out against her on social media.

She doesn't want people to feel pain. She's the first hero of the 2025-28 Resistance movement. She will not be the last.

Trump wants people to feel pain. May his pain increase.

Wednesday, April 8, 2020

Ranking the James Bond Films -- and Goldfinger Is NOT in the Top Half, Let Alone #1

"My name is Bond. James Bond."
Left to right: Timothy Dalton, Roger Moore, Daniel Craig,
Sean Connery, Pierce Brosnan, George Lazenby

No Time to Die, the 25th film in the James Bond franchise, was supposed to premiere today, April 8, 2020. (Notice the time that I posted this: 12:07 AM, or, in military time, 0007.) But, due to the coronavirus pandemic, and the desire to have a big splashy premiere in London without killing people, it's been pushed back: It will premiere in London on November 12, and in America on November 25.

There is some irony in this: The fiendish plots of the villains in On Her Majesty's Secret Service and Moonraker both involved unleashing infectious diseases on the world.

This will be unlike any other ranking of the Bond films, because it admits the truth: Goldfinger is not Number 1. It's not even close.

Here is my ranking, after having seen them all again through adult eyes. And, of course, there will be spoilers.

24. Quantum of Solace, 2008. After the high of the Casino Royale reboot, we got the bottom of the (gun)barrel. At the end of the previous film, we're led to believe that Bond has had his origin story, and that he's ready to be the 007 that we know and love (even though we know that there are times when we shouldn't love him). Instead, he spends much of this movie making rookie mistakes.

What's more, it drags more than any other Bond film. It's 1 hour and 46 minutes long, but feels twice that. Quantum feels like a pale imitation of SPECTRE. (Indeed, as we find out 2 films later, it is merely a subsidiary of SPECTRE.)

Furthermore, this is the only film in which Bond doesn't have sex, despite coming into contact with women played by Gemma Arterton, Olga Kurylenko and Stana Katic. I know, he's still in mourning over Vesper Lynd, but being in mourning over Tracy Draco didn't stop him from getting it on with Tiffany Case in DAF. I know this is a new Bond, but, seriously.

This film is dirty, draggy, and presents Bond as un-Bond-like as we've ever seen him. It was bad enough to make 007 fans nostalgic for...

23. Die Another Day, 2002. You've got Pierce Brosnan, Halle Berry, scenes in Hong Kong and Cuba, and North Korea serves as a compelling enemy for the post-Soviet world. How can you go wrong? Here's how:

* You've got Bond captured by the North Koreans at the start of the film. They torture him for over a year. And we're expected to believe that a 48-year-old Brosnan -- never mind a 71-year-old man, as Sean Connery's Bond would have been -- survives this in reasonably good shape.

* You've got a theme song sung by Madonna. She can't sing. This also proves that Madonna does not have to act in a film to unduly affect its quality. (She did have a cameo in the fencing scene, but her acting was not one of the reasons the film stunk.)

* The identity-switching plot stretches the imagination, even by Bond film standards.

* M has to explain to Bond how much he has missed. Not only have the 9/11 attacks happened during his unavailability, but Q has died, with John Cleese, introduced as his assistant in TWINE, promoted into his post.

* The invisible Mercedes. As Charlie Brown would say, "Good grief!"

* The villain's father betrays him a little too easily, like General Korrd turning on his fellow Klingon Captain Klaa in Star Trek V -- not one of that series' better films.

* And, let's be honest: Brosnan pretty much phoned it in. We know he's a better actor than this, but it's like he knew this was it, and was in it only to fulfill the contract and take his check.

Regardless of whether James Bond was 48 years old or 71, it was time for this version of him to hang up his holster. It was time to reboot. That worked -- at first.

22. The World Is Not Enough, 1999. The title for TWINE comes from the Bond family motto, as seen in OHMSS: In Latin, "Orbis non sufficit." Allegedly, it was the epitaph on the tomb of Alexander the Great.

This was also the last film with Desmond Llewelyn as Q. Llewelyn died the month after its release -- not of anything connected to old age (he was 85), but in a car crash in Sussex. Which is ironic, given Q's propensity for telling Bond to take care of the equipment he provided. Llewelyn's 17 appearances are still the most of any actor in the Bond films.

The twist is that Elektra King, played by the fabulous Sophie Marceau, isn't the damsel in distress, she's the big bad. She remains, to this day, the only woman to be a Bond film's leading villain. That, alone, should have led to a great Bond film -- or, at least, a great Bond story.

This was not it. It was terrible. Having a corrupt businessperson, rather than a mad scientist or a dictator, be the main villain worked in TND, but not in AVTAK, and not here. And, seriously: Denise Richards as a nuclear physicist? Susan Sarandon may have won an Oscar for playing a nun, but some suspension of disbelief is just too far. The band performing the theme song was named Garbage, and while they were okay, this film was garbage as well, the 1st to be worse than...

21. The Man With the Golden Gun, 1974. Christopher Lee was an intelligence agent in the Royal Air Force during World War II, at the same time that Ian Fleming was a British intelligence agent. And they were related by marriage. It has been argued that Lee was one of the men on whom Fleming based the character of Bond.

In addition, Lee had already played such villains as Count Dracula, the Frankenstein monster, The Mummy, Dr. Fu Manchu, Grigori Rasputin, and the Devil himself; but also heroes like Sherlock Holmes and his brother Mycroft. All this, before playing Count Dooku and Saruman.

Who better to play the titular character from Fleming's last full-length novel? Francisco Scaramanga was an anti-Bond, a man supremely talented at everything he did, but who did it for money rather than for Queen and Country, as did 007. In spite of, like Goldfinger, being titled after, and being about, the villain instead of the hero, this should have been one of the best Bond films.

But, dear God, it was, to that point, the worst! Maud Adams (in her 1st of 2 such films) played a half-decent Bond Girl as Scaramanga's girlfriend, Andrea Anders. But Britt Ekland was utterly hopeless as Bond's unwanted MI6 assistant, Mary Goodnight.

Again, there was a plot element borrowed from a current film fad, in this case martial arts movies, and it was ridiculous. And did they really have to add Sheriff J.W. Pepper again, this time running into Bond on vacation in Thailand? And Lee laid it on a bit too thick: Even as Dracula, he didn't chew this much scenery.

Roger Moore was in danger of becoming as big of a joke in the role as George Lazenby was. He and producer Albert R. "Cubby" Broccoli (who soon bought out the half-share of his financially-troubled partner Harry Saltzman) were in danger of the franchise ending entirely -- and I'm not the only one who thinks so. They needed for the next Bond film to really be a good one. Fortunately, it was: The Spy Who Loved Me.

20. Diamonds Are Forever, 1971. A side note. A few years back, ABC showed all the old Bond films in sequence, on Sunday nights, from Dr. No through License to Kill. But, for a reason I've never learned, they skipped over On Her Majesty's Secret Service. They went from You Only Live Twice straight to Diamonds Are Forever.

This rendered DAF's opening sequence ridiculous. Bond is crazed over finding Ernst Stavro Blofeld. Okay, I get that Bond usually gets his man, and didn't get him at the end of YOLT. And I get that MI6 would probably make getting Blofeld a priority. But Bond is taking it way too personally for someone for whom OHMSS hasn't occurred. And, if this had been your introduction to Bond, you could be forgiven for thinking that OHMSS hadn't occurred, since Sean Connery is playing the role one more time, after George Lazenby was dumped.

But it did occur, so you can understand that he's avenging his wife. And, at DAF's start, it looks like he's gotten his revenge. Which makes no sense: Why would you put that at the start? (Never mind that For Your Eyes Only would reprise this.)

The Las Vegas-based adventure that follows, in which Bond finds out that Blofeld (now played by Charles Gray) is behind the plot about halfway through (plastic surgery strikes again, as the guy Bond killed at the beginning was a double), becomes ridiculous. Especially when you find out that the enigmatic Willard Whyte, the obvious Howard Hughes analogue that Blofeld is impersonating, is actually a fairly young man, played by country singer and sausage magnate Jimmy Dean (42 years old at the time, as opposed to Hughes then being still alive, and 65).

The movie closes with Blofeld appearing to have been killed, but we didn't see a dead body; and then with yet another "one last henchman to kill before Bond can screw the Bond Girl." In this case, two: The team of Mr. Wint (Bruce Glover) and Mr. Kidd (Putter Smith), The Hays Code had fallen in 1968, so the inferences that they were not only gay, but a couple, could now be more overt.

Still, it was a bad stereotype, in a bad story, in a bad film. Connery should not have come back, and, this time, he left for good -- except for Never Say Never Again, which was not official. Goodbye, Mister Bond.

19. Thunderball, 1965. Sean Connery called this his favorite Bond film, but I can't see why. The long, wordless underwater sequences really make it drag, making me think that Lloyd Bridges could have made it an episode of Sea Hunt, and it would have been over in half an hour. Or an hour, if it had been an episode of Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea.

Adolfo Celi made a credible villain as Emilio Largo, and Claudine Auger was lovely as Domino Derval. But this was not a good movie. Worse yet, because someone else got the rights to this film, it was remade in 1983, with a 52-year-old Connery giving it one more shot (and he'd had his six), in the horrendous Never Say Never Again.

18. A View to a Kill, 1985. Yes, Moore was 57 years old when it was filmed. Yes, Tanya Roberts' Stacey Sutton was not a compelling Bond Girl. Yes, Grace Jones' May Day was an attempt at an over-the-top henchman, a female equivalent of Richard Kiel's Jaws. Yes, merely trying to corner a market (in this case, computer technology) is a plot whose foiling is beneath Bond. (Heck, it's basically the Duke brothers of Trading Places, with more computers and less bigotry.)

And, no, the one thing that some people think saves this movie, having a villain played by Christopher Walken, does not help. The role of Max Zorin had initially been offered to David Bowie, who turned it down, saying, "I didn't want to spend five months watching my stunt double fall off cliffs." Another blond British rocker, Sting, was offered it next, but he also turned it down.

But it's not that bad. It doesn't drag like Thunderball. It's never as silly as DAF. It doesn't copy a current movie fad like TMWTGG. And the shots of San Francisco, including of the Golden Gate Bridge, are pretty good, if not as "exotic" as a Caribbean or Asian island, or an Amazon jungle, or a Winter resort.

Still, it was time for Moore to hang up the Walther PPK, and he did. This was also Lois Maxwell's final film as Miss Moneypenny.

17. On Her Majesty's Secret Service, 1969. Connery left, and Australian model George Lazenby was hired. He was 9 years younger, but that was his only advantage. He totally lacked much of what made Connery so effective in the role, including confidence and ruthlessness.
Would Connery's Bond have so easily fallen for Teresa Draco, a.k.a. Countess Tracy di Vicenzo (Diana Rigg)? No, not so easily, anyway. Then again, Lazenby's Bond appreciated her as a near-equal -- both in talent and in neuroses -- and Connery never would have have, even if Roger Moore occasionally did (as with Anya Amasova in TSWLM and Octopussy in the film named for her).

Director Peter Hunt was clearly influenced by a film released earlier that year, Midnight Cowboy, as his editing was dizzying, and might have induced seizures in some. Had he simply made OHMSS like previous Bond films, it would have been among the most visually arresting of them.

The Piz Gloria location, in the Bernese Alps of Switzerland in real life, did make for some spectacular shots. Telly Savalas did a good job taking over the role of Blofeld. And the ending is a gut-punch, especially for people who remembered Rigg as the heroic Emma Peel on The Avengers (the 1960s British spy TV series, not connected to the Marvel Comics stories). In other words, this could have been one of the best Bond movies. But it remains in the bottom half.

16. The Living Daylights, 1987. Timothy Dalton's introduction to the series is standard spy stuff, the West vs. the Soviet Union, except, this time, a Soviet spy is messing with his own country instead of the West, and MI6 and the KGB have to once again, reluctantly, work together.

In real life, the Soviets were still occupying Afghanistan, and this film puts the Mujahideen on the side of the good guys, which won't make sense to anyone watching this film after 2001. By Bond standards, this film is about average: Dalton helps himself a little, but he wasn't about to replace either Connery or Moore in anyone's eyes. Robert Brown remained as M, but Caroline Bliss took over as Miss Moneypenny for both of the Dalton films.

15. Goldfinger, 1964. Ian Fleming died on August 12, 1964, 4 months after visiting the set, so he didn't live to see its release on September 17. According to many Bondophiles, this is the one that, A, really set the tone for the series, especially with Q presenting 007 with the tricked-out Aston Martin DB5, and the love interest with the censor-testing name Pussy Galore; B, is the best Bond film of them all; and, C, proves that Sean Connery is the best Bond of them all.

A is wrong, because From Russia With Love did that. B is wrong, and so is C, and they're linked, as I'll explain:

* Bond's luck in this film is insane. It defies logic so much, it would give Mr. Spock a Vulcan headache. Seriously:

** Who sees an enemy coming, reflected in the eye of the woman he's kissing? Even Batman never pulled that off, with Catwoman or anyone else.

** Eponymous (and redundantly-named) villain Auric Goldfinger (Gert Fröbe) staying at the same hotel that Bond is? What a coinky-dink!

** And how did Bond get up to the top of that Kentucky cell that he was put in, and stay there, long enough for the henchman to be taken by surprise?

** And Bond escaped from it juuuust in time to hear Goldfinger explain Operation Grand Slam. Not one minute before, requiring him to wait around for some dumb henchman to not quite find him; and not one minute too late to have heard any of it.

** Pussy tells Bond, "You can save your charms. I'm immune." This was as close as the Hays Code would allow a film released in America in 1964 to have a character flat-out say, "I'm gay." Which Pussy explicitly was in the novel. Yet one literal romp in the hay with Bond, and she not only turns straight, but turns coat. Instead of wanting to kill him for it, because it was rape. (Which I'll get back to.)

** Bond gets captured, and stays captured, for more than half of the film. For all the tut-tutting about Raoul Silva's plan depending on getting captured in Skyfall, as was the Joker's in The Dark Knight and Loki's in The Avengers, at least those villains knew what they were doing. Bond is just lucking out the whole freakin' time.

** At the end, Goldfinger, who we're supposed to accept is an evil genius, doesn't know that you're not supposed to fire a gun on board a goddamned plane!

** Worst of all: How many chances did Goldfinger and his henchmen have to kill Bond, and fail to do so? These henchmen were so bad at shooting (How bad were they?), I'm convinced that at least one of these actors was hired to play a Stormtrooper in Star Wars.

** And how many times did they outright refuse to kill him when they had the chance?

*** The henchmen had Bond right where they wanted him in the Swiss forest, and took him alive.

*** Goldfinger tranquilized him, instead of using an actual bullet or, you know, the gold laser that was already inches away from him.

*** At Fort Knox, Oddjob (Harold Sakata) could have killed Bond by throwing his hat, but runs down to fight him instead, only throwing the hat afterward.

*** The cheesiest example: Bond's bluff to get out of the "gold-laser bris" works, and it shouldn't have: Even if Goldfinger thinks Bond knows what Operation Grand Slam is, he hasn't had a chance to tell anyone, and won't, if Goldfinger simply lets the laser take its course. Just finish him off, Auric!

Does it sound like I'm rooting for the bad guys here? Do I expect them to win? No, Mister Reader, I expect the film to make some damn sense! But I gotta admit: "Do you expect me to talk?" followed by "No, Mister Bond, I expect you to die!" is a great line, and Bond villains had so few of them, most of them being on the receiving end of Bond quips. Pretty much the only other good one was Drax's "See that some harm comes to him" in Moonraker.

* Bond isn't even the hero of the movie. He's almost incidental to it, much like Indiana Jones is in Raiders of the Lost Ark. At the end of the Fort Knox sequence, it's not Bond, but his CIA friend Felix Leiter (played here by Cec Linder), who stops the dirty bomb -- with 7 seconds to go, so that the timer reads "007."

* The editing is bad, from Bond's grappling hook at the beginning to the mountain-driving sequence, to the henchmen's car exploding as it starts to go over a cliff, to the Fort Knox soldiers being knocked out by the Goldfinger plane fleet's gas before the fleet is even overhead.

* I realize that Fröbe's English was so heavily accented that it needed dubbing. But they couldn't make a character who is specifically said to be British sound a bit less like a German war criminal who somehow got acquitted at Nuremberg? (Remember: The Nazis, too, hoarded gold.)

It makes Goldfinger the most cartoonish villain in the entire 24-film series, and that's saying something, since it also includes a Caribbean dictator obviously based on "Baby Doc" Duvalier (Dr. Kananga, played by Yaphet Kotto in Live and Let Die), a character played by Christopher Walken (Max Zorin in A View to a Kill), and a giant with steel teeth whose only name we ever get for him is "Jaws" (Richard Kiel in The Spy Who Loved Me and Moonraker). When a character in the later TV spy spoof Get Smart was named "Bronzefinger" (a smuggler of bronze statues), it was less over-the-top.

* Finally, this film wants us to root for James Bond. As the scene with Bond and Pussy in the hay suggests, they go on to have sex. And she is objecting the whole way. James Bond is a rapist. And this film is asking you to root for him. And the Hays Code didn't have a problem with it, so long as the editing cut directly from him kissing her, without any clothes having yet been taken off, to a scene of a propeller starting, which the Code keepers were too dumb to know was a metaphor for Bond's "engine starting."

So if you think Goldfinger is the best James Bond film, you're basing this on your feelings, not on the available facts. You can make it your favorite, but it is far from the best.

On the plus side, Shirley Bassey gives the most iconic performance of a Bond film theme song. And the Aston Martin is pretty cool. And Goldfinger does utter the 1st "Goodbye, Mr. Bond." And Eon showed a lot of guts in not only naming the film after the villain, but, really, making the film the villain's story more than the hero's. Unfortunately, that works both ways: Once the opening sequence is played, we never hear Bond's theme again: Only Goldfinger's theme is played throughout the film.

14. Octopussy, 1983. This? This movie? Ahead of Goldfinger? Blasphemy! No, it is not. It's my list. You don't like it, make your own damn list.

In 1983, Kevin McClory, who produced Thunderball and still had the rights to that story, and to the concepts of SPECTRE and Blofeld, wanted to remake the film, and did so as Never Say Never Again (which I'm not even going to count here, since it's unofficial), with a 52-year-old Connery. It was released on October 7, 4 months after Octopussy on June 6, and... made less money than Octopussy. That should have settled the Connery vs. Moore debate for all time, in Moore's favor.

I remember watching Siskel & Ebert At the Movies, and both Gene Siskel and Robert Ebert said that Connery was the better Bond. Ebert said, "Moore's too prissy. He's too afraid to get his white suit dirty." This was stupid: Moore wasn't afraid of anything, and coming away looking cleaner was part of his charm.

Yes, this is the movie where Moore hides in a fake alligator. Connery had a fake bird on his head at the start of Goldfinger. Yes, this is the movie where Moore dresses as a clown, complete with makeup. He was trying to infiltrate a circus, so it was a good disguise. At least he wasn't wearing makeup to make himself look Japanese, as Connery did in YOLT.

Robert Brown had played Admiral Hargreaves in TSWLM, and was cast as M for this film, replacing the late Bernard Lee. Although it's possible he was taking over in the character as well as in the office, it is more likely, given Lee's death, that Lee's M had died, and Hargreaves was promoted into the office.

Maud Adams returns, as the titular smuggling tycooness. Her real name is not mentioned in the film, but, in the book, it was Octavia Smythe -- "Octavia" to fit with the "octopus" theme, just as Spider-Man villain Doctor Octopus was named "Otto Octavius." It's a Batman-Catwoman relationship: They shouldn't be on the same side, but, eventually, they have to be.

Louis Jourdan, for once, is not the most suave man in the room. Octopussy has the best all-female private army seen onscreen until the Amazons of Wonder Woman in 2017. Q's Union Jack balloon is a hoot. And it is a good Cold War story.

But the best scene is Bond sliding down the banister with a machine gun, shooting the Newell post so it doesn't, as Steve Martin might say, grab him like a slab of meat with mittens.

13. You Only Live Twice, 1967. This is a decent adventure story, and it shows us "Tiger" Tanaka (Tetsurō Tamba), a Japanese man who is not a stereotype, but rather a very modern man, as a major official in a very modern nation. And we finally get to see Ernst Stavro Blofeld (played here by Donald Pleasence), after two films (or, considering this film, two and a half) where all we saw where his hands, his torso, and his cat.

On the other hand, the two Japanese women aiding Bond in his task, Aki (Akiko Wakabayashi) and the unfortunately named Kissy Suzuki (Mir Hama), in spite of how capable they turn out to be, are caricatures. And the idea of making Bond become Japanese, or, to use a later metaphor, "Turning Japanese," is incredibly insensitive, even by 1960s standards.

At least they used actual Japanese actors, instead of Americans or Britons in "yellowface," a la Mickey Rooney as Mr. Yunioshi in Breakfast at Tiffany's (and, to a lesser extent, Joseph Wiseman as the half-Chinese Dr. No). Still, this film could have been a lot better.

One of the main differences between the books and the movies is that, in the movies, this was the first time Bond and Blofeld came face-to-face, and Blofeld, while defeated, gets away; while, in the books, YOLT concludes a trilogy of books where Blofeld is the villain, and Bond kills him, avenging Tracy.

One more interesting note: Charles Gray, who went on to play Blofeld in DAF, here plays Bond's initial contact in Japan, Dick Henderson, who gets the martini order wrong: "Stirred, not shaken."

12. Tomorrow Never Dies, 1997. This was the 1st Bond film after the death of original producer Cubby Broccoli, and his daughter Barbara and stepson Michael G. Wilson, having been associate producers to that point, took over in full.

This film gets a bum rap: It did not begin the decline of the Brosnan Era. I have never liked Jonathan Pryce, going back to his awful commercials for Infiniti cars in the late 1980s. But, as a more interesting version of Rupert Murdoch, using a media empire to influence world events in his favor, he makes a great opponent for Bond.

This was also the 1st time that Bond, having previously teamed up with Russians, had to do so with a Chinese agent, Wai Lin (Michelle Yeoh, a Malaysian actress of Chinese -- Cantonese -- ancestry). Like Anya Amasova in TSWLM, she was a good match for him. And, like many other movies with a scene in Vietnam, that sequence was actually filmed in Thailand. Oh yes, this film also had Teri Hatcher playing an ex-girlfriend of Bond's. She was still real, and still spectacular.

11. Licence to Kill, 1989. Note the British spelling of the word Americans would spell "license." Bond and old friend Felix Leiter start by foiling a drug lord, then parachuting into Leiter's wedding. Leiter hadn't been seen since Live and Let Die, where he was played by David Hedison, who becomes the 1st actor to play that role twice.

But the drug lord gets his revenge, maiming Leiter and killing his bride, leaving him alive to know he's won. Bond, remembering how his own wife Tracy was killed on their wedding day (thus officially making Dalton's Bond the same man as Connery's, Lazenby's and Moore's), seeks his own revenge. M warns him against it, and revokes his license to kill, meaning he's on his own and subject to any country's laws.
Q defies M, and helps Bond. This movie was not based on any of Fleming's novels, yet Dalton's performance in it has been called the closest to the book version of Bond that had yet been seen. Due to production problems, it would be the last Bond film for 6 years, and Dalton's contract ran out, so, as Bond, he, pardon the choice of words, only lived twice.

10. Moonraker, 1979. Pick your jaw up off the floor. This movie gets a bum rap, due to 2 things: Moore being 52 years old, and thus considered too old for the part; and the laser-gun battle in space. For the 4th time in 12 years -- YOLT with the space program, LLD with blaxploitation, TMWTGG with kung fu, and now this with science fiction, 2 years after Star Wars and Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and with Star Trek: The Motion Picture soon to follow -- the Bond films decided to tie in with a current pop-culture phenomenon.

As for the age factor: These days, plenty of action-adventure films feature stars around that age, and even older. Antonio Banderas is 59. Tom Cruise is 57. Robert Downey Jr. is 55. Current Bond Daniel Craig, Jason Statham and Vin Diesel are all 52, the same age Moore was in Moonraker. Will Smith turns 52 in September. Ben Affleck and Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson aren't far behind them at 47. And let's not forget: Cary Grant, one of the original candidates to play Bond, was 56 when he starred in North By Northwest.

As for the laser battle: Yes, it's so cheesy, mice get excited. But that's just 2 minutes. The rest of the film holds up very well. It's worth remembering that Moonraker was the highest-grossing Bond film ever, and remained so until GoldenEye, 16 years later. Maybe pandering to the Star Trek and Star Wars fans wasn't such a bad idea.

Venice (previously seen in FRWL, and seen again in Casino Royale) and Rio de Janeiro hit the "exotic location" buttons. The disease designed to wipe out all of humanity harkens back to OHMSS, and Michael Lonsdale is a credible villain as Sir Hugo Drax.

Jaws (Richard Kiel) becomes the 1st henchman to appear in a 2nd film, and also the 1st to turn coat and work with Bond and his Girl. Speaking of whom, Lois Chiles is good as the astronaut with the censor-shaking name, Dr. Holly Goodhead. (A much more believable scientist than Denise Richards' Dr. Christmas Jones.)

You'll notice that I have the film in which Moore goes into space ranking higher than the film in which Connery almost goes into space. I stand by that ranking. Moonraker is a good film.

9. Spectre, 2015. After finally obtaining the rights to the character of Ernst Stavro Blofeld and his organization SPECTRE from the estate of Kevin McClory in 2013 (McClory had died in 2006), Eon was ready to reboot Bond's classic nemesis as well.

Christoph Waltz, already the villain in Inglorious Basterds and Seth Rogen's horrible reboot of The Green Hornet, was a good choice to play him. And the idea of Bond causing the massive facial scar we saw on Donald Pleasence in YOLT (and going a step beyond that and costing Blofeld the use of that eye) was a good touch. So was having Blofeld be responsible for the villains of CR, QOS and Skyfall.

Monica Bellucci, at 50, became the oldest Bond "Girl" ever (breaking the record of Honor Blackman, 38 when she filmed Goldfinger), but you'd never know it: She was as fine as ever. And having Mr. White (Jesper Christiansen) turn coat and help Bond at the end of his life was fitting in a way.

But having Blofeld's father adopt Bond after he was orphaned as a boy, and thus making them step-brothers, and having Blofeld make his grievances against Bond personal for so long, was insane. There was no reason to have the 2 men be on a 30-year collision course. On the other hand, having Bond leave Blofeld captured, to face British justice, rather than killing him, showed growth in the character, even compared to previous Bonds' relationship to the villain.

And so, in a repaired Aston Martin, Bond and Mr. White's daughter, Dr. Madeleine Swann (Léa Seydoux), ride off into the sunset, with Craig as yet unaware if there would be another Bond film with him. Of course, there is one more, No Time to Die, and Madeleine will be in it with him. But so will Blofeld, who is not advertised as the main villain. Time will tell about that film.

8. Live and Let Die, 1973. Bond is dead, long live Bond. Roger Moore, despite being 3 years older than Connery, takes over, and the stakes are less than stopping Blofeld or somebody else from destroying and/or taking over the world. It's just taking down a drug lord, played by Yaphet Kotto in the dual role of Dr. Kananga, dictator of a Caribbean island nation, and Mr. Big, the drug kingpin of Harlem.

This makes him the 1st black Bond villain, although Dr. No was the 1st nonwhite one. And Gloria Hendry, who had co-starred in Black Caesar earlier in the year, plays CIA Agent Rosie Carver, the 1st black woman to sleep with Bond (at least, onscreen).

This was a sendup of "blaxploitation" films, including Black Caesar, and there are some seriously cringeworthy moments. One that's not related to race was brought up by Moore years later: "Why would have have a man run across crocodiles while wearing crocodile shoes?" And Louisiana Sheriff J.W. Pepper (Clifton James, actually from Oregon) was pretty cringey, too.

But it's a good story, and Jane Seymour as Solitaire makes a good romantic lead, And Moore proves every bit Connery's equal. He's more stylish, every bit as good with the quips, and proved he was just as ruthless: When Rosie says they'll kill her if she tells who's compromised her, he says he'll kill her if she doesn't. She says, "But you wouldn't -- not after what we just did!" He says, "Well, I certainly wouldn't have killed you before."

7. Skyfall, 2012. The worst thing I can say about this one is that, at 2 hours and 23 minutes, it was too long. Having M die in spite of everything that Bond had tried to do made very little sense, but it showed that the spy game is always troublesome. Raoul Silva (Javier Bardem) needing to get captured to make his plan work was a bit dippy. And suggesting that Bond was now possibly too old for this shit, when the previous movie was an extension of his origin story, was wrong. There should have been at least 2 movies in between, showing us Bond in his agent prime.

But Silva was still a chilling villain. Introducing Naomie Harris as (the finally first-named) Eve Moneypenny, making her a real field agent instead of just M's secretary, introducing Ben Whishaw as a surprisingly young Q, and introducing Ralph Fiennes as the new M all worked very well.

6. For Your Eyes Only, 1981. After the "Bond vs. Anti-Bond" confrontation of TMWTGG, the Cold War love story of TSWLM, and the Bond-in-space story of Moonraker, a Bond film that was, literally, down to Earth was not so much a letdown as a reprieve, especially for Connery fans who didn't like the sillier aspects of the films (ignoring just how silly those films could be, including Connery's own space-themed adventure, YOLT).

This one opens with Moore's Bond laying flowers at Tracy's grave, marked with the dates 1943-1969, thus proving that his character is the same one played by Connery and Lazenby. And then he's attacked by someone who, due to legal reasons, they couldn't say was Blofeld, but it was Blofeld, back after 10 years (and, apparently, paralyzed due to what Bond did to him at the end of DAF). After 2 films with Connery fighting him, and 1 with Lazenby, it is Roger Moore's version of James Bond who finally gives Ernst Stavro Blofeld the shaft. (Don't worry, the cat got away and lived.)

Ironically, given the opening scene, Bond has to return to the Alps, albeit to the Italian side rather than the Swiss side. Julian Glover plays Aris Kristatos, the 1st Bond villain to appear, at first, to have been an ally, which turns out to be a very effective twist -- repeated with similar effectiveness in TLD, and with considerably less in TWINE. All in all, a very good spy film, and another nail in the coffin of the prevailing opinion that Moore and his body of work weren't as good as Connery and his.

Bernard Lee was dying of cancer, and so this was the 1st Bond film not to feature the character of M.

5. GoldenEye, 1995. Perhaps the 1st reboot of the Bond series: It was pushing it to say that Timothy Dalton, 43 at the time of LTK, was playing the same man as Sean Connery, then 59, did from 1962 to 1971, but, canonically, he was.

For GE, Pierce Brosnan debuted as Bond, after initially being considered as Moore's replacement for TLD. It made sense: Moore had been considered due to being the suave international hero in a TV series, The Saint; while Brosnan had been a suave TV star on Remington Steele. But he couldn't get out of his NBC contract, so they turned to Dalton instead. Now, Brosnan was available.
With an opening sequence set in 1986, before Dalton took over, it's easier to say that Brosnan, 42 in 1995, was not the same man that was played by a then-65-year-old Connery. Twice, in GE and in TWINE, there oblique references to Tracy, but if you didn't know Bond's personal history, you wouldn't presume that this confirms he was ever married.

But is he the same man? The new M, Judi Dench, suggests that he is, by calling him "a relic of the Cold War." There's also a new actress playing Miss Moneypenny. Her name is Bond. Samantha Bond. She remains in the role through all the Brosnan films.

The Bond franchise needed a good one after the 6-year gap, and they got it. The transition of some Soviets (Famke Janssen's Xenia Onatopp was said to be Georgian, not Russian) to traditional capitalist gangsters was played up, so it was both a Cold War spy movie and a Mob movie, and Brosnan handled it as if he had been playing Bond in the 2 previous films. Eon Productions got it right. Unfortunately for Eon and Brosnan, it would never be so good again -- at least, not together.

4. Dr. No, 1962. This film started it all, for a very good reason: The original heads of Eon Productions, Harry Saltzman and Albert R. "Cubby" Broccoli didn't know if turning Ian Fleming's novels into films would work, especially in America. If successful, they would make more money there than in the rest of the world. If unsuccessful in the U.S., it wouldn't matter how successful it was in the U.K. and elsewhere: They would be doomed. So they chose the Bond novel that they thought would be the cheapest to produce. It worked, and subsequent Bond films had bigger budgets.

Most of the familiar Bond tropes started here (with the analogues for this film in parentheses):

* The opening "gunbarrel sequence" and opening titles, both designed by Maurice Binder, who would continue to design opening titles until his death in 1991.

* The iconic theme song, composed by Monty Norman and performed by an orchestra conducted by John Barry.

* James Bond, Agent 007 of MI6, Britain's international security agency (played by Sean Connery), looking cool as hell, getting the girls, killing the bad guys, and dropping mad quips.

* Bond's boss, known only as M (Bernard Lee), approving of his results but not always his methods.

* Bond's playful banter with M's secretary, Miss Moneypenny (Lois Maxwell, and the character doesn't get a first name, Eve, until Skyfall).

* Exotic locations (Jamaica, which had been granted independence by Britain after filming was completed, hence it was still a colony in the film).

* A spectacular lead "Bond Girl" (Ursula Andress as the revenge-minded Honey Rider).

* And an insidious villain (Joseph Wiseman as Dr. Julius No) with a nefarious plot (sabotaging an American space launch, so that the Soviet Union would get blamed, starting World War III, and allowing No's superiors in SPECTRE to take over what was left of the world).

Not yet in place: Q and his gadgets (the only new equipment Bond gets is a new sidearm, a .32-caliber Walther PPK), a tricked-out car, and a plot tying in with a current cultural phenomenon (which has been done a few times, and usually hasn't aged well).

If you can get past Bond's hyper-macho attitude, and the fact that the film views the world through a lens that is still tinted by the British Empire (which had, in real life, already given way to the British Commonwealth), the film is a good adventure with a satisfying conclusion.

3. Casino Royale, 2006. The reboot. A James Bond who is, for the 1st time, definitively not the man first seen in Dr. No. This is Bond Begins. The 1st onscreen origin story for Agent 007, although it's been suggested that he never needed one. The debut of Daniel Craig as Bond. It is also, aside from an American reworking on the CBS anthology series Climax! in 1954, and the unofficial spoof in 1967, the 1st depiction of the 1st of Ian Fleming's Bond novels, published in 1953.

To borrow an analogy from this film's Texas hold 'em poker theme (as opposed to the original's baccarat), Eon Productions went all in. For everyone involved, this had to be a good one.

It was. They totally nailed it. Although Craig was already 38 years old, he was a believable agent new to this level, making rookie mistakes, but figuring things out as he went along. The inclusion of a 1964 Aston Martin to become this Bond's car was a nice touch.
Judi Dench remained as M, even though she may not have been the same character as in the Brosnan films -- "God, I miss the bloody Cold War" was not a line the M she had been playing would have said. Eva Green was just right as the compromised Vesper Lynd. And Mads Mikkelsen was devilishly appropriate as Le Chiffre.

Everything was in place for the Craig Era to be a great one. And then they followed this triumph with Quantum of Solace.

2. From Russia With Love, 1963. For all the flak the Bond movies get for their sexism, this one had a plot that was ahead of its time: It recognized that, due to his promiscuity, Bond could be snared in a "honey trap," thus damaging the security of the NATO alliance, and of Britain in particular.
But, much more than its only predecessor, Dr. No, FRWL established the sense of both intrigue and romance that the Bond films became known for. And, despite being only 19, still the youngest Bond Girl, Daniela Bianchi made for a good foil as Tatiana Romanova.

This film also introduced Desmond Llewelyn as Q the quartermaster.

1. The Spy Who Loved Me, 1977. This is it: The best and defining James Bond film, and it stars Roger Moore, not Sean Connery.
Karl Stromberg (Curd Jürgens) is a pretty standard Bond villain, but his plot is pretty good, and requires an ingenious solution. Having Jaws (Richard Kiel) helps: He makes all previous large Bond-opposing hitmen (including Robert Shaw as Red Grant in FRWL and Harold Sakata as Oddjob in Goldfinger) look as small as Herve Villachaize as Nick Nack in TMWTGG.

Barbara Bach as Major Anya Amasova, Agent XXX (Triple-X), is the best Bond Girl. You can argue that another is more beautiful, or has a better body, although it would be a tough argument. But, more than any other, her character is a match for Bond, in intelligence (in both senses of the word), talent, determination and even wordplay -- the latter, no mean feat because she's an American actress, reading a script written by an American and an Englishman, playing a Russian character speaking English, mostly to an Englishman.

Egypt makes a fantastic "exotic location." A villain's base in the middle of the ocean makes a stiff challenge. (How does Jaws swim all the way back to land?) And the submersible Lotus Esprit is the best Bond car ever, ahead of the Aston Martin.

Sorry, Connery fans, you might find this positively shocking, but this is the best Bond film. Don't blow a fuse.

Saturday, April 14, 2018

Top 10 Real People Whose Names Were Given to Fictional Characters

His name was Bond. James Bond.

I'm not talking about close calls, like Captain James Cook becoming Peter Pan's nemesis Captain Hook or the McDonald's character Captain Crook. Or real-life University of Iowa football coach Hayden Fry inspiring Barry Kemp to name the title character of his sitcom Coach "Hayden Fox."

10. Peter Parker. Famous people named Clark Kent (like Superman), Bruce Wayne (like Batman), or Diana Prince (like Wonder Woman -- and Princess Diana of Wales doesn't count) are hard to find. But I found a few men with the same name as the comic book character who became Spider-Man.

Sir Peter Parker (1721-1811), 1st Baronet Parker of Bassingbourne, was Admiral of the Fleet in Britain's Royal Navy from 1799 until his death. He had reinforced the British effort in the Carolinas in the War of the American Revolution, and was a mentor to Britain's greatest modern naval hero, Horatio Nelson.

His grandson, also Sir Peter Parker (1785-1814), was the 2nd Baronet. Like his father and grandfather, he served in Parliament. He was also, unlike his grandfather, a cousin by blood of the poet Lord Byron. And, like his grandfather, he was wounded in battle against the U.S. Unlike his grandfather, he died from his wound, while commanding HMS Menelaus at the Battle of Caulk's Field, part of the blockade of Baltimore that led to the Battle of Fort McHenry. He was only 29 years old.

There was yet another Sir Peter Parker (1924-2002), who was chairman of the British Railways Board from 1976 to 1983, but this was after the character of Spider-Man was created. There was also a Dr. Peter Parker (1804-1888), the 1st Protestant medical missionary to China.

9. Dale Cooper. Before the FBI Agent played by Kyle MacLachlan on Twin Peaks, there was Dale Troy "Stoney" Cooper (1918-1977), a country singer and expert fiddler of the 1940s and '50s.

8. Harry Crane. Born Harry Kravitsky (1914-1999), the Brooklyn-born comedian and screenwriter was a childhood friend of Jackie Gleason's, and became a writer for The Jackie Gleason Show, which began the sketch that became the TV show The Honeymooners. He also became the grandfather of actresses Melissa and Sara Gilbert.

A generation later, Harry Chapin used the name for his song about a mail-order bride in the Wild West, "Mail Order Annie," because the surname rhymed with "train." Although also a native of Brooklyn, it's not clear if Chapin knew about Crane the writer.

7. Walter White. Long before Bryan Cranston played the science teacher turned drug kingpin on Breaking Bad, Walter Francis White (1893-1955) was Chairman of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People from 1931 to 1955.

He founded the NAACP Legal Defense Fund, which led to the Brown v. Board decision, in which the Supreme Court unanimously struck down segregated education. Essentially, he was the leading figure in the civil rights movement before Martin Luther King came along. Unlike Dr. King, and fellow civil rights activists Harry T. Moore in 1951 and Medgar Evers in 1963, he was not murdered: He did die in office, but from a heart attack.

6. Crash Davis. In the 1988 film Bull Durham, Kevin Costner played Crash Davis, a slugging switch-hitter with power, whose real name was never revealed, and plays in the Carolina League. Director Ron Shelton had found the name "Crash Davis" in The Baseball Encyclopedia -- which was what we used to look up baseball facts before the Internet gave us Baseball-Reference.com.

Lawrence Columbus Davis (1919-2001) earned his nickname at age 14, when he crashed into a teammate going for a fly ball. The Georgia native was Captain of the baseball team at Duke University, and played for the real-life Durham Bulls, in the same city, in the real-life Carolina League. But while the movie's version was a catcher who spent just 21 days in the major leagues, the real Crash Davis was a 2nd baseman who played 3 seasons with the Philadelphia Athletics, 1940 to 1942, before serving in the U.S. Navy during World War II.

He later coached baseball at Harvard University, and became friends with Shelton, enjoying his late-in-life celebrity.

5. Edward Hyde. Before Robert Louis Stevenson gave the name to the dark side of the character of Dr. Henry Jekyll in his 1886 novel, there had been Edward Hyde, 1st Earl of Clarendon, Lord Chancellor to King Charles II in the 1660s, and grandfather of both Queen Mary II and Queen Anne.

There had also been the grandson of the preceding, the 3rd Earl of Clarendon, the 14th colonial Governor of New York and the 1st colonial Governor of New Jersey (at the same time, 1701 to 1708); and a distantly related Edward Hyde, who served as colonial Governor of North Carolina.

4. Jo(h)n Snow. Well before Jon Snow became the name of the protagonist of George R.R. Martin's Game of Thrones, there were several famous men with variations on the name.

In the 1850s, a Dr. John Snow in London became the father of anesthesia and epidemiology. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, a John Snow was one of the foremost bowlers in English cricket and a published poet. In the 2000s, John W. Snow was Secretary of the Treasury under George W. Bush. And Jon Snow (Jonathan George Snow) has been the anchor of England's Channel 4 News for nearly 30 years.

How these men reacted to being called a "bastard," I have no idea.

3. Wade Wilson. Before it became the secret identity of the Marvel Comics antihero Deadpool, Wade Wilson was a quarterback, who got the Minnesota Vikings to the 1987 NFC Championship Game, before losing to the Washington Redskins. He later became a renowned quarterbacks coach.

2. James Bond. In 1952, Ian Fleming was living in Jamaica, then a British colony. He was writing a novel about a character much like himself, who had been a British secret agent, enjoyed smoking and drinking, and couldn't keep it in his pants. He needed a name for his protagonist, wanting one "as ordinary as possible." Fleming was a birdwatcher, and noticed a book on his desk: Birds of the West Indies, published in 1936.

The author was James Bond, 36 years old at the time of its publication, a native of Philadelphia who spent his high school and college years in England. He returned to his hometown, worked in a bank, and when he heard that the Academy of Natural Sciences, now a unit of Philadelphia's Drexel University, was forming an expedition to the Amazon jungle of Brazil, he jumped at the chance.

He must have impressed someone on that trip, since the Academy hired him as an ornithologist (someone who studies birds for a living), and he became their curator of ornithology. His 1936 book, originally titled A Field Guide to the Birds of the West Indies, was the only book published on the subject for over half a century, so it must have been considered definitive until someone decided that it had become obsolete.

Noticing the name on the book, Fleming contacted Bond, who gave his permission to use the name. Fleming later wrote to Mrs. Bond, and said, "It struck me that this brief, unromantic, Anglo-Saxon and yet very masculine name was just what I needed." And so, when Casino Royale was published in 1953, Agent 007 was Bond -- James Bond. But that affectatious introduction was not used until the films, starring with Sean Connery in Dr. No in 1962.

James Bond the secret agent has escaped death in dozens of ways. (UPDATE: Daniel Craig's last outing, the 2020 film No Time to Die, is the 1st film to show Bond actually dying.) The book version was said to be born in 1920, making him nearly 100 years old now. If we accept that the movie version was, like his original portrayer, Connery, born in 1930, then he's 88. (A 1954 teleplay of Casino Royale broadcast in the U.S. starred Barry Nelson as Bond.) If we count only from the reboot, starting with the 2006 film version of Casino Royale, then it's not clear how old he is, although he's, at most, the age of his current portrayer, Daniel Craig, who just turned 50.

James Bond the ornithologist seemed to be fine with his tangential fame, but, like everyone in real life, he could not escape death forever, and died in 1989, age 89.

In 2002's Die Another Day, Pierce Brosnan's last appearance as Bond (and probably the last canonical appearance of the "original Bond"), in Cuba, 007 shows Halle Berry's Jinx Johnson a recent edition of Birds of the West Indies, with a finger covering the author's name.

1. James T. Kirk. I found references to 3 men named James Kirk who were war heroes before Gene Roddenberry gave the name to the Captain of the starship USS Enterprise in the original Star Trek series. Second Lieutenant James Kirk of the Manchester Regiment gave his life, covering his mates with gunfire toward the enemy, in a retreat across the Oise Canal in France, just 1 week prior to the Armistice that ended World War I. He was 21 years old, and was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross, Britain's highest military honor.
2nd Lt James Kirk VC

In August 2013, Captain James A. Kirk was named the 1st commanding officer the U.S. Navy destroyer USS Zumwalt. He held the command for 3 years, until December 2016, and is currently assigned to the Pentagon.

With the 2nd aircraft carrier named USS Enterprise having been retired, a 3rd is now under construction, but it won't be ready until at least 2027, and this Captain Kirk may be retired by then. (UPDATE: He retired in 2023, with the rank of Rear Admiral.)
UPDATE: In 2021, America's own Captain James Kirk
was promoted to the rank of Rear Admiral.

But only 1 of these men was a James T. Kirk. James Thompson Kirk was born in 1826 in Canonsburg, Pennsylvania, outside Pittsburgh, later the hometown of singers Perry Como and Bobby Vinton. He was a tailor who opened his own clothing shop, and enlisted in the Union Army during the American Civil War.

Colonel James T. Kirk commanded the 10th Pennsylvania Reserve Regiment, and was wounded at the Second Battle of Bull Run, badly enough to be allowed to resign his commission. He resumed his mercantile business, and lived until 1886.
Headstone of Colonel James T. Kirk.
There appears to be no surviving photograph of him.

UPDATE: Found one!
Captain James A. came to public knowledge well after Star Trek debuted. Whether Roddenberry knew about either 2nd Lieutenant James or Colonel James T., I suppose only he knew.

Sunday, February 14, 2016

Top 10 Movies That Are Hard to Watch In Hindsight

Note: Only 1 of these movies is about sports, although James Bond did some skiing and boat racing, Dirty Harry did have a scene filmed inside San Francisco's Kezar Stadium, Revenge of the Nerds featured a college football coach and his players, and Ferris Bueller's Day Off had a scene filmed inside Chicago's Wrigley Field.

I'm not talking about movies that were hard to watch at the time. A Clockwork Orange (1971 but taking place in an indeterminate but probably near future), Taxi Driver (1976), Schindler's List (1993 but taking place in the early 1940s), Irreversible (2002), or any number of war or murder movies. We knew those movies were hard immediately. They were planned that way.

I'm talking about movies that we might see long after the fact, and realize, "Hey, that scene I loved back then? That was bad. In fact, I'm not even sure I like this guy anymore." Movies where the people we were supposed to root for may not have deserved it.

These films are listed in chronological order, and their entries, of course, contain spoilers.

1. The Wizard of Oz, 1939. Refresh my memory: Which witch is good, and which witch is wicked? You can't blame Dorothy for killing the Wicked Witch of the East: She didn't cause her house to drop on her, and didn't even realize that witch was dead until the Good Witch of the North showed her. Indeed, Dorothy is as much a victim in all this.

But the Good Witch? She manipulates Dorothy into doing her bidding. And the Wicked Witch of the West? All she wants is the ruby slippers worn by her newly-dead sister, to which, as (as far as we know) her only living relative, she is absolutely entitled. (Granted, we don't know the specifics of Ozian law, but any rational society would say she should get the slippers.)

She's got a legitimate gripe. And yet, she forfeits any claim to moral superiority and our sympathy by trying to have Dorothy and the others (including her little dog, too) killed.

Included in this is getting them stoned. "Poppies!" That's right: The Wizard of Oz had a drug reference 3 years after Reefer Madness and 5 years after the Hays Code got serious. They might as well have had the Scarecrow going Justin-to-Janet on Dorothy's dress.

What's more, she's stupid. All she had to do was tell Dorothy, "I'll make ya a deal: Give me the slippers, and I'll send you and your dog home. I'll even give you a magic spell to make that awful Elvira Gulch let you keep the dog." (Elvira and the Wicked Witch were both played by future Maxwell House coffee pitchwoman Margaret Hamilton.)

Dorothy could have turned to the Wicked Witch and said, "Deal!" and then to the "Good" Witch and said, "Tough luck, bitch, I got mine!" Of course, that would have made it a 20-minute movie, and 20-minute movies went out with the silents.

2. It's a Wonderful Life, 1946, taking place from 1911 to 1945. Is George Bailey a wonderful guy before Clarence the Angel shows him what life would be like if he'd never been born? Sure, he helped people buy and keep their homes during the Great Depression. But...

But he's verbally abusive to his wife, his children, his uncle, and one of his children's teachers. He's willing to let Uncle Billy take the fall for misplacing $8,000 (about $105,000 in today's money), even though George is the one who, legally, goes to prison if charges are filed and successfully prosecuted. He also drives drunk, and in so doing, wrecks a car and a tree. Even in the he-was-never-born fantasy sequence, he punches out a cop. Who also happens to be a real-life friend.

Is this a guy who deserves a happy ending? If the writers of Seinfeld had written it, he would have ended up in prison just like Jerry, George, Kramer and Elaine did in the finale.

But here's what gets me about this movie: George Bailey knows that Sam Wainwright is his best friend, knows Sam is rich, and knows where Sam can be found. The first thing George should've done was pick up the phone and call Sam -- or do what Mr. Gower did, and send Sam a telegram (you could do that in those days), and explain the problem. Then, that night, he could have shown the return telegram from Sam to the bank examiner, who, knowing Sam's reputation, would accept it, and give George until after the holiday to cash the money order and pay off the $8,000. So not only is George not very nice, he's not very bright.

3. Several James Bond movies, 1962 to 2002. Granted, most of the women Agent 007 has sex with are phenomenal. But sometimes he does it without thinking of how it might jeopardize his mission. Indeed, the KGB plot in From Russia With Love (1963) is dependent on Bond getting honey-trapped.

And in Live and Let Die (1973), while, to his credit, he shows he has no problem with an interracial relationship (as he already showed in Japan in You Only Live Twice in 1967), he threatens to kill Rosie Carver if she doesn't tell him what he wants to know.

Rosie: "But you wouldn't... not after what we just did!"

James: "Well, I certainly wouldn't have killed you before."

By the way, in case anybody who prefers Sean Connery to Roger Moore, thinking Connery is more of a "badass": This Moore line was more badass than anything Connery has ever said, in any movie.

And, then, of course, there is the biggest gripe with Bond. In the novel Goldfinger, Pussy Galore (right away, the name was a challenge to the Hays Code, and many countries had her name overdubbed as "Kitty Galore") was a lesbian. This is only hinted at in the 1964 film, in which she says she's "immune" to his charms. So he out-and-out rapes her in the hayloft.

And instead of this highly intelligent, greatly capable, and very determined woman avenging herself and making sure he dies, she throws away her principles and her loyalty to Auric Goldfinger (however misguided those may be), and switches sides. No man is that good in bed.

But the biggest problem with the Bond movies isn't the wanton destruction, or the innocent people who are surely accidentally killed or maimed in Bond's chase scenes and shootouts, or the time and effort MI6 (sometimes also the CIA, the KGB, and any other countries' intelligence services) has to put into covering up his Double-O-Antics.

It's the women. What happens to them after the final scene? Every time, the movie suggests to us that Bond and this film's Bond Girl may have found true happiness. The only times previous Bond girls are even referenced -- aside from the brief mentions while Bond is shown packing in On Her Majesty's Secret Service in 1969 -- are when Tracy, whom he marries and then loses to murder at the end of that movie, is brought up.

Seriously: There must have come a day when all of Bond's ex-girlfriends got together -- either on their own, or brought together by some villain -- to gang up on him, a la what happened to Hugh Grant during the 2nd wedding's reception in Four Weddings and a Funeral. We never saw that movie, but I would gladly pay to see it.

4. 2001: A Space Odyssey, 1968, with most of the action taking place in, obviously, 2001. Let's get the obvious out of the way first: For varying reasons, all Stanley Kubrick films are hard to watch, including Dr. Strangelove, his version of Stephen King's The Shining, and the aforementioned film he made of Anthony Burgess' novel A Clockwork Orange.

2001, based on the science fiction novel by Arthur C. Clarke, is hard to watch because it's long (2 hours and 41 minutes initially, and the studio forced it to be cut down to 2:22), and Kubrick's montages made it far longer than it should have been. It's hard to watch because there's instances of several minutes with no dialogue at all. (For crying out loud, at least foreign movies where we have to read subtitles usually have people talking.) And it's hard to watch because of the what-the-hell ending.

I've previously stated that this film, and its leaps forward in science fiction special effects, helped to bring the original Star Trek series to a close prior to the completion of the USS Enterprise's "five-year mission." To make matters worse, instead of getting revenge on Kubrick, Gene Roddenberry copied 2001, putting such long, wordless montages into the 1st Trek movie, which got it nicknamed Star Trek: The Motionless Picture. And also gave it a weird resolution that Kubrick probably considered a ripoff.

(Its similarity to the original series episode "The Changeling" got it nicknamed Where Nomad Has Gone Before, and its length and the fact that it came out in 1979 got it nicknamed A Spock-alypse Now.)

But the hardest thing about 2001 is comparing what the film said in 1968 that life in 2001 would be like with how it actually turned out to be. There were no Pan Am flights from the Earth to orbiting space stations and then on to the Moon. Hell, there was no Pan Am: It ceased operations in 1991. There was no civilian space travel of any kind. Our space program had been stupidly stalled after Apollo 17 (Skylab turned out to be a white elephant), and tragically set back after the Challenger disaster.

What's more, and this is one thing Kubrick never foresaw -- he died in 1999 -- is that 2001 would feature not airliners going to the Moon, but airliners being hijacked and purposely crashed into skyscrapers. For so many of us, seeing and hearing the date "2001" will forever remind us of September 11 and the weeks that followed, when it seemed like the furthest thing from anyone's mind was how humanity was about to evolve into a higher form.

One of man reasons why the 21st Century hasn't exactly gone as we had hoped. In the words of the immortal Yogi Berra, "The future ain't what it used to be."

5. Dirty Harry, 1971. Long before San Francisco cop Harry Callahan takes too much of a risk with that school bus at the end, look at the beginning: He essentially lets a robbery happen, and then causes a lot of destruction in stopping it. This isn't some rookie patrolman: His rank is Inspector. That's above Officer, Detective, Sergeant, Lieutenant, even Captain. This is equivalent in rank to Captain in the U.S. Navy, and to full Colonel in the other branches of our armed forces. He's an important guy. And this is how he does his job? Harry really is dirty.

And then, at the end, after he's killed the Scorpio Killer, he throws his badge into the reservoir, indicating that he's quitting the force. Except there were 4 more Dirty Harry movies, all the way up to 1988, with The Dead Pool. (Not to be confused with Deadpool, which is disturbing in its own right.)

By which point, Callahan has to be close to the age of mandatory retirement. Clint Eastwood was 40 while filming the 1st one in 1970, and Callahan was an Inspector already. (For comparison's sake: In the final episode of Barney Miller, the title character, a Captain throughout the show's 8 seasons and mentioned as being born in 1930, as was Eastwood, is promoted to Deputy Inspector at age 52.) If Callahan is the same age as Eastwood, and had actually made Inspector by age 40, then in the last film, he was 58, and still being an action hero. (They mocked Roger Moore for being Bond at 58 in A View to a Kill -- or even 52 in Moonraker.)

So Dirty Harry starts out in 1971 as a bad cop -- maybe not evil, certainly not corrupt, but not exactly the most competent of badgemen -- and ends in 1988 as a guy who, to borrow the phrase of Los Angeles Detective Roger Murtaugh in the Lethal Weapon movies, is "too old for this shit."

6. Animal House, 1978, but taking place in 1962. Yes, the Omegas and Dean Wormer got what was coming to them. But the Deltas were horrendous drunks, were rotten people even when sober, got expelled on merit (bad grades), caused some serious property damage both before and during the Homecoming parade, and one, Pinto, knocks up a 13-year-old girl.

Thirteen years old! He had no problem having sex with her, because he thought she was 16. Newsflash: It was not "okay in the Sixties." Not at 16, and certainly not at 13. At 13, it wasn't even okay in 1977, as Roman Polanski later found out.

Also, while it was worth it to get revenge on the Faber College administration, including Wormer, and on the Omegas, what about all the innocent people who got hurt in the sabotage of the parade? They had nothing to do with what had been done to the Deltas.

7. Revenge of the Nerds, 1984. Another misfits vs. establishment frat movie. The Tri-Lambs only got going after Booger remembered he had pot. Putting the video cameras in the Pi house was an invasion of privacy. And Lewis has sex with Betty while he's wearing a mask, letting her think he's Stan. Even though she literally asked for it, she thought she was asking someone else, so she did not give the man she was with consent. Legally, that's rape.

The fact that she chose not to press charges, and even claimed afterward to be in love with him, doesn't change the fact that he could have been charged, and maybe even should have been charged.

8. Ferris Bueller's Day Off, 1986. This remains one of my Top 5 favorite movies of all time, because it's so much fun. But when you're no longer the age of the characters, but in the age group of the adults in the film, and you look at it from that perspective... Oy vey, where to begin?

Ferris is only a few weeks from the end of the schoolyear, yet decides to burn a 9th sick day of the semester. He lies to his parents about being sick. He ignores his best friend's apparently real illness (which is conveniently forgotten about in the rest of the film). And he lets the girl he loves think that her grandmother has died. (Look at her face: She's not in on it... yet. It's not until she sees him in the disguise in front of the Ferrari that she realizes it's a ruse and that Grandma is alive.) And they both forgive him.

All that happens before they even get off the Shermer High campus, let alone onto Lake Shore Drive and into Chicago proper. Once they get there, Ferris' maneuvers include cheating a man out of a restaurant reservation, hijacking a parade (and instead of arresting him, the cops dance along to his songs), wrecking a priceless rare antique car (okay, it was Cameron who did that, but Ferris put him in that position), and leading to his sister getting arrested. At least he didn't wreck the parade, like the '62 Deltas did in Animal House.

And, for all we know, that "little chat" that Cameron said he was going to have with his father over the wrecked Ferrari (not to mention the shattered window in the garage) may have gotten Cameron beaten by his father, or even kicked out of the house.

Granted, Ed Rooney wasn't exactly heroic in his pursuit of Ferris, but he was doing his job. Of course, like Ferris (despite his own protestation), Rooney went too far. Literally: He did not have the authority to leave school grounds to go look for Ferris. Worse, he was guilty of home invasion. He should have lost his job for that, alone. And Rooney's actions are complicated by the fact that he was in charge of students' safety and discipline, and he was played by Jeffrey Jones, who later became a convicted sex offender.

9. Field of Dreams, 1989. We want to believe in the magic of this film. This allows us a tremendous amount of suspension of disbelief, from the ghosts to the time-traveling, from Mark doing a complete 180 on letting Ray keep the ballfield to people in the 1980s willingly driving to Middle of Nowhere, Iowa and paying $20 ($38 in today's money) to watch a baseball game that doesn't count in any standings. I'm not going to criticize any of that on this occasion. But...

First, Ray Kinsella jokes about kidnapping famous but reclusive author Terence Mann. Then, he (sort of) actually does it. Kidnapping is a federal crime. Then, with his "victim," he crosses several State Lines, which would have upped the charges. When they're in Minnesota, it actually makes the papers that Mann is missing, because he hadn't told anybody where he was going.

Furthermore, all those people paying to see ghost baseball? Ray could be prosecuted for fraud. And what happens to Mann after he goes into the cornfield? Does he ever come back? Could Ray be prosecuted in connection with that, too?

Speaking of "Ease his pain... " Released just 6 weeks after Field of Dreams was...

10. Dead Poets Society, 1989 but taking place in 1959. Immediately, the film was hard to watch because the school was not held accountable for Neil's suicide and the way it treated Neil's classmates and Mr. Keating.

What makes the film hard to watch now is knowing that Mr. Keating's portrayer, Robin Williams, later committed suicide himself, because even one of the most successful careers in entertainment history, which Neil never got the chance to try for, couldn't ease his pain.

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

First Guys to Play Icons

1. 1899: The 1st Sherlock Holmes


William Gillette (1853-1937) appeared in a stage production titled Sherlock Holmes. He improvised a line for Holmes to speak to Dr. John Watson: "Oh, this is elementary, my dear fellow." Clive Brook, the 1st spoken-cinema Holmes, would turn this into the more familiar, "Elementary, my dear Watson."

In his Holmes stories, Arthur Conan Doyle had Holmes say, "Elementary" and "My dear Watson" a few times each, but never the complete phrase. Gillette continued to play Holmes onstage until 1929.

2. 1910: The 1st Frankenstein Monster

Remember, "Frankenstein" is the name of the scientist who animates the monster, not the monster himself. Yet, The Monster, The Creature, The Frankenstein Monster, Frankenstein's Monster, whatever you want to call him, is frequently what people mean when they say, "Frankenstein."

Charles Ogle (1865-1940) played the Monster in a 1910 Thomas Edison film, and he doesn't look much like Boris Karloff's version, which is the template for the Monster that we most recognize.

I had heard that there was a 1911 film titled Vampyr, and that this was the 1st cinematic reference to Count Dracula, but I can find no reference to it.  If it was ever made, it has almost certainly been lost.  Suffice it to say that the earliest one that can be found, Max Schreck as "Count Orlok" in the 1922 thriller Nosferatu, looks nothing the 1931 Bela Lugosi version that became the template of pretty much every Drac since, especially the Christopher Lee version that ran from 1958 to 1973.

Lee also played the Frankenstein monster in The Curse of Frankenstein in 1957. He is not the only man to play both Dracula and the Frankenstein Monster -- Lugosi beat him to that punch -- and he may not even be the only man to play both Holmes and Dr. John Watson. But he is almost certainly the only man to play both of them and Sherlock's brother Mycroft.

3. 1933: The 1st Lone Ranger

As I've said, taking note of the hockey team in New York, the baseball team in Dallas, and the soccer team in Glasgow, all of whom wear blue shirts, and all of whom have boorish, bigoted fans, "The only Ranger in a blue shirt who doesn't suck is the Lone Ranger."

The Lone Ranger debuted on Detroit radio station WXYZ in 1933 – and so did the Green Hornet, whose adventures took place in what was then the present day. This was explained by the fact that the Hornet was the Ranger's grandnephew: The Hornet's grandfather and the Ranger were brothers. (WXYZ was at 1270 on the AM dial. That station was, and remains, a CBS station, although it is now WXYT, CBS Sports Radio 1270.)

George Seaton (1911-1979) was the 1st man to voice the Ranger on the radio. The only photo I could find of him shows him wearing the hat and the mask, but a then-current business suit. Seaton only played the character for 3 months, before Earle Graser took over the role for 8 years, until a car crash killed him in 1941.

Brace Beemer (sounds more like the name of a TV astronaut) then played him until the show (and, essentially, radio as an episodic medium) ended in 1955. Lee Powell was the 1st to play the Ranger in a movie, in 1938, before Clayton Moore (1949-51 and 1954-57) and John Hart (1952-53) played him on the ABC series. 

4. 1940: The 1st Superman

Ray Middleton (1907-1984) played Big Blue at the 1939-40 World's Fair, at Flushing Meadow, Queens. Of course, this was well before Shea Stadium (let alone Citi Field) was built across Roosevelt Avenue, and he wasn't able to help either the Mets or the Jets, both of which could have used some super-powers.

The Big Red S logo that is so familiar to us now wasn't all that familiar yet, as the character had only been around for 2 years. So he had to have "SUPERMAN" on top of the logo. As for the "red underwear," well, let's just say that, 57 years later, George Clooney and Chris O'Donnell could take comfort in knowing that they weren't the 1st superhero actors to have that particular issue.

It's not just the version of the logo that's unfamiliar.  The name and face weren't all that familiar to me, either. But I did see Middleton as an older man: As Cardinal Reardon, head of Army chaplains, on M*A*S*H; and as Huey Rush, father of Ted Knight's character, on Too Close for Comfort.

5. 1943: The 1st Batman and Robin

Lewis Wilson (1919-2000) played Batman in a 15-chapter movie serial. Robin was played by Douglas Croft (1926-1963). There are conflicting reports as to why he died at age 37: A heart attack, a fall, an ill-fated visit to a prostitute. We may never know for sure, just as we may never know for sure what the Los Angeles police were covering up when TV Superman George Reeves died in 1959.

He played the child version of Lou Gehrig in The Pride of the Yankees, and Gehrig died at the same age. The same year Croft played the Iron Horse (Iron Colt? Iron Foal?), he played young George M. Cohan in Yankee Doodle Dandy. Like Burt Ward and Chris O'Donnell, he looks too old to play Robin, although he was 16 when the serial was filmed.

Oddly, this serial doesn't feature any of the traditional Batman villains; rather, this being the middle of World War II, the Caped Crusaders take on Japanese saboteurs. Some now-familiar Bat-villains were available: The Joker and Catwoman first appeared in the comics in 1940, the Penguin in 1941, Two-Face in 1942. The Riddler, however, didn't debut in the comics until 1948, and the Mad Hatter came right thereafter; Mr. Freeze didn't appear until 1959; Poison Ivy, not until 1966.

None of those villains appeared on stage or screen, big or small, until the 1966 TV series with Adam West as Bruce Wayne, an already 20-year-old Burt Ward as Robin, Cesar Romero as the Joker, Burgess Meredith as the Penguin, Frank Gorshin (and later John Astin) as the Riddler, and Julie Newmar (later Eartha Kitt, and Lee Meriwether in the movie) as Catwoman.

The show also debuted the characters of Egghead (Vincent Price) and King Tut (Victor Buono). Mr. Freeze (Otto Preminger) was originally Mr. Zero, but the name was changed to Mr. Freeze for the show, so the comic writers changed it as well.

Ra's al Ghul didn't make his 1st comic appearance until 1971, so he couldn't have even faced Adam West, and didn't appear onscreen until Batman Begins in 2005, but that's a gap of only 34 years.  Two-Face didn't appear in live-action form until Tommy Lee Jones played him in Batman Forever. In 1995. That's 53 years after he first appeared in print.

He didn't appear in the Adam West series, mainly because producer and narrator William Dozier thought Sixties TV audiences, especially kids, might be frightened by the makeup necessary to make Harvey Dent's disfigurement look real. So a character named False-Face was created instead, based on previous comics characters with the name, and was played by Malachi Throne. Interestingly, the man they were considering casting as Two-Face was Clint Eastwood, who was in the process of making his Man With No Name Trilogy.

6. 1954: The 1st James Bond

His name was Nielsen – Robert Haakon Nielsen (1917-2007). When he went into acting, he anglicized his name to Barry Nelson. In 1954, the CBS anthology series Climax! aired a version of Casino Royale, the 1st James Bond novel, which Ian Fleming had published the year before. The music for it was composed by Jerry Goldsmith, who would later compose the Star Trek theme.

Knowing they had only an American audience, the producers had everything flipped. His name was Bond – Jimmy Bond. He was an American, a CIA agent. Felix Leiter, Bond's CIA contact, was the Englishman from MI6, and his name was changed to Clarence Leiter. The British Vesper Lynd becomes the American Valerie Mathis, and, this being Fifties Hollywood, she does not die.

And, since this was the Fifties, you bet your balls the scene where Le Chiffre (played here by the one and only Peter Lorre) tortures Bond was not shown: He only gets beaten up. Oh yeah, instead of letting Le Chiffre's Soviet masters take him out, Bond shoots and kills the villain himself.

Needless to say, when Eon Productions started making the Bond films in the early Sixties, 007 was going to be played by a citizen of Great Britain – and although Sean Connery is famously Scottish, not English, he did a pretty good job of passing for the English Bond.

7.  1958: The 1st Princess Leia
Akira Kurosawa was one of the most influential filmmakers ever – or, if you prefer, one of the most ripped-off. His Seven Samurai was Westernized into The Magnificent Seven. His Yojimbo, starring Toshiro Mifune, became A Fistful of Dollars, and turned the aforementioned Clint Eastwood from a character actor on a TV Western into a cultural icon. And George Lucas has admitted that Kurosawa's The Hidden Fortress was a major influence on the original Star Wars. (You know: Episode IV: A New Hope.)

What I really wanted to put in here was "The 1st Darth Vader." In Japanese culture, there certainly could have been a figure wearing grotesque armor, complete with a villainous-looking mask, suggesting the big bad Sith Lord. However, there is no comparable character in this film.

Nevertheless, the fortress itself is an analog to the Death Star. Mifune is in this as well, and was, essentially, Japan's Harrison Ford long before Ford became America's Toshiro Mifune, and his character in this film is recognizable as an analog to Han Solo.

And Misa Uehara (1937-2003, and not to be confused with a young, unrelated current actress of the same name) plays Princess Yuki Akizuki, the equivalent to Princess Leia Organa, although it’s "only" her family that's wiped out, not her entire planet.

8. 1964: The 1st Captain of the Starship Enterprise
Jeffrey Hunter (1926-1969), who played second fiddle to John Wayne in the aforementioned The Searchers, played Jesus in King of Kings. But, unlike William Shatner’s later portrayal of James T. Kirk, his Captain Christopher Pike was wracked with doubt, and certainly didn't "play God," and pretty much said he didn't want to. Indeed, when he starred in the original pilot for Star Trek, "The Cage," he fought beings that, essentially, were nearly godlike. (In contrast, Kirk only fought computers who "played God.")

In retrospect, Hunter, wearing the predecessor of the familiar gold tunic, looks more like Reboot Kirk Chris Pine than Shatner ever did.

It should also be noted that, as we now know, in "Star Trek Chronology," Pike wasn't the 1st captain of Kirk's Enterprise, and Kirk's wasn't the 1st starship to bear the name.  Unless there's something as yet unrevealed, the 1st spacegoing vessel to be named Enterprise was commanded by Jonathan Archer (Scott Bakula) in 2154, and Robert April (voiced by James Doohan, who did a lot of the voices on Star Trek: The Animated Series, in addition to Scotty) in 2245.

Trek creator Gene Roddenberry meant for Robert April to be the captain's name from the beginning (he also wanted the ship to be named the Yorktown), and switched it to James Winter, before settling on Christopher Pike for the 1st pilot episode and James Kirk for the 2nd (which had him listed as "James R. Kirk," not "James T. Kirk").

Personally, I think it should have been "James F. Kirk," as a tribute to John F. Kennedy: JFK. But then, he would have had to have Shatner say, "Space, the new frontier," instead of, "Space, the final frontier."

9. 1974: The 1st Spider-Man
There had been a 1967 cartoon, with Spidey voiced by Paul Soles (born 1930 and still alive), but no live-action Spidey until 1974, when PBS added the Web-Slinger to The Electric Company, as a series-within-the-series titled Spidey Super Stories. Marvel Comics was not only cool with this (read, "Stan Lee realized he could make a crapload of money off of cooperating with PBS"), but published a comic-book tie-in.

Spidey was played by Danny Seagren, who was silent – his "word balloons" were designed to help kids learn to read, which was the point of the entire show – and never took off his mask to reveal the face of Peter Parker beneath. Indeed, if your first exposure to the Wall-Crawler was through this show, you wouldn't have known at the time that he even had a secret identity.

Seagren was a dancer by trade, not an actor, so not having to speak, or show his facial expressions underneath the mask, was no problem. It's not like he was Klinton Spilsbury, the guy who looked the part but couldn't act to save his life (or anyone else's), in the 1981 film The Legend of the Lone Ranger. Seagren remained with PBS as a Muppeteer, and is still alive.

10. 1992: The 1st Buffy the Vampire Slayer
How soon we forget: Joss Whedon took the character and concept and made it serious. But, originally, it was a joke, a spoof of horror films. The very name suggested it: What vampire-hunting society would trust their skills to a high school cheerleader from California named Buffy?

Yes, that is a cheerleader uniform, although the angle of her pose and the colors could suggest Bruce Lee's famed tracksuit, which was co-opted by Quentin Tarantino for Uma Thurman to wear in Kill Bill.

Kristy Swanson is still acting, although for most of the 2000s she was on TV only, no movies.  Perhaps it's a good thing that her role as Buffy is obscured by Sarah Michelle Gellar's version. If that show had never happened, Swanson's 2 most memorable roles might be in movies with ridiculous titles: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (which would, in such a world, be a ridiculous title, with none of the love of the Buffy fandom we know today) and 8 Heads in a Duffel Bag (which, if you'd never heard of it, you could easily guess that it had Joe Pesci, and you would be right).