It was my boyfriend’s birthday last week; so in celebration of the day I did that special thing with him all men would love to do on their birthdays. I went to see James Bond with him. Needless to say, Quantum of Solace, the twenty-second Bond film, was chock full of testosterone, and little else. The plot was flimsy, the characters baffling and way too many things blew up for me to keep track of.
I am well aware I should probably have been more familiar with the celebrated anthology, or at least the prequel to this movie, to better find my footing in this latest chapter of the Hollywood blockbuster. I was, however, struggling to hold on to the plot from the outset and desperately searching for something human in the character of James Bond.
Admittedly, the two recent instalments starring Daniel Craig were about Bond having his heart broken and, subsequently, slaking his thirst for revenge by, well, being Bond. I am just not sold on the idea that his overt displays of machismo are actually devices masking his pain and sensitivity.
Bond is simply too incredible, on the fringe of fantastic, to be in any way realistic. While I’m sure there might be many Bond fans eager to plot my demise by tying me up to some kind of time-release device above a shark tank after reading this statement, I don’t understand why a multitude of grown men seem to identify with Bond in the same way little boys idolize their fathers. The character clearly needs to be allotted a few pages for some emotional development. He is a secret agent after all, not a robot.
In Quantum of Solace, Bond goes on a killing spree much to the chagrin of his superior. M, a character played by Dame Judi Dench, warns Bond he is acting on anger and must learn to control his feelings. Yes, I am fully aware part of Bond’s super cool spy persona is he can control his emotions extremely well; but where’s the fun in that? Don’t humans fundamentally engage in the dramatic arts with the purpose of expressing emotion? I enjoy my catharsis shaken, not...completely missing from the film.
There has been much discussion about the blatant chauvinism of the Bond franchise, the scantily clad women, and the overuse of euphemistic guns. The U.S. election and Barack Obama’s presidential victory seems to have sparked a new discussion. Is it absurd that this historical moment is also being touted as an opportunity for a call to change the future face of James Bond? Maybe, but here it goes anyhow. Many entertainment media sources are claiming the time has arrived for a black Bond. According to reports, Sean “P. Diddy” Combs has already started his campaign to snag the role, spending three quarters of a million dollars on his audition tape. He has been quoted as saying: “there is a black president and it's time for there to be a black Bond". I think Mr. Combs might not realise there has never been an American Bond either (Barry Nelson’s ‘Jimmy Bond’ respectfully notwithstanding of course!).
Although this talk about the possibility of a black Bond is justified, given the history and nature of the Bond character there is another prospect to ponder. The change being demanded at this juncture should not be for the next incarnation of Bond to be ethnic, but homosexual.
I thought I was being clever. I really did…until a quick Google search delivered quite a surprise. It seems Daniel Craig, who has already broken down barriers by being the first blonde Bond, thinks the producers of the series should consent to a homosexual affair for Agent 007. Craig made his {indecent} proposal before production began on Quantum of Solace so it is safe to say his wish was not granted. Unfortunately, the film makes use of the same old brand of machismo Sean Connery seems to have perfected during that classic poolside scene in the 1964 flick Goldfinger. Poor Craig honestly thought a gay Bond was just the kind of modernizing the series needed. “Why not?” Craig told reporters; “I think in this day and age fans would have accepted it.”
Alright, so I’m not too sure how serious Craig was being and I might have been a little tongue-in-cheek myself. In all sincerity, however, I think a gay Bond is a great idea. For one, a gay secret agent would challenge the gender stereotypes that have run rampant in these films since the sixties; and we could finally see a Bond Boy emerge from the sea in a glistening swimsuit rather than a Bond Girl. Or maybe they could stop objectifying people altogether and no one emerges from the sea in a swimsuit. Wait, did I just ask for too much change? Yes, I did.{w}
the {great} leap forward: volume i, issue iii
/// {voice} of the urban community ///
the {warehouse} magazine would encourage its community of readers to share commentary about articles read in this magazine - or elsewhere - and observations about the {insert adjectives here} world we live in.
This is YOUR platform. So be sure to read out {LOUD}.
By Fazana Natasha Soobramanie - As someone who herself has been labelled indiscriminately with a bucketful of ethnic pageantry I could really identify with the author and his musings/experiences.
I too have been asked “what are you?” on all too many occasions often the asker perplexed by the visual dilemma in front of them. What are you Lebanese, Spanish, Portuguese, Indian, Pilipino, and most recently Mexican (although to be fair I was IN Mexico at the time).
Of course, when I do finally answer, “my parents are from Guyana” I then have to quickly move from a socio-cultural lesson to a geography one. It always amazes me that for as often as we hear the term ‘global community’, with the internet bringing the world to our backdoors that we are still quite decidedly ethnocentric; that someone with nondescript racial origin must be from ‘somewhere’ and would not mind divulging her racial secret. In fact, I am as Canadiana as the next guy or girl... born, raised and educated in the same city for thirty years.
Although I have been idly playing the ‘where are you from’ game most of my life, having a child of mixed ethnicity has made me ponder her fate. Inevitably the day will come when someone compares her darker complexion to mine and her decidedly curly to my straight hair and be all the more questioning... Although secretly I must admit, I anxiously await the day when the answer will not matter.
By Philip Soobramani
You are distinctly Canadian just as the other guy or gal, born & raised of Guyanese heritage. Thanks to Pierre Elliot Trudeau for bringing such Ethnic Diversity to the shores of our home & native land. Curly Locks would of course tell them "I am Canadian".
Does it matter how I look? Does it matter what color my skin is? As long as we have such Ethnic Diversity in the land we call Canada, these questions will always keep coming up. Canadians were recectly stuned by Ethnic Diversity when they witnessed the protest of the Tamils in Toronto. And as other Canadians become aware of the vast Ethnic Diversity in this great land of ours, indeed one day the time will come when the answer will not matter anymore.
By Brian
Excellent article- really shit art. Especially since the article talks about interactivity instead of inactivity, it's poor taste to put a fatty with a controller in her hand as the first thing you see.
It's misleading and ruins what would otherwise be a great article about gaming culture.