Dr. No (1962)

Revisiting Dr. No in a post-Skyfall world gives us a better sense of what the latter film is trying to restore to the mythos, and though I’m not convinced modern audiences would go for it, I say bring it on.

Dr. No introduces us to (Bond,) James Bond (Sean Connery), MI6’s best agent, who travels to Jamaica after the murder of a British diplomat and his assistant.  Bond quickly learns that the diplomat was investigating the titular doctor (Joseph Wiseman), who reclusively inhabits the mysterious island Crab Key amid rumors of a scheme to topple American lunar rockets.  But after making his way to Crab Key, Bond meets Honey Ryder (Ursula Andress), a woman who needs saving almost as much as Bond himself does.

I wonder if director Terence Young was cognizant of how many precedents he was setting with the film; the end credits don’t read “James Bond Will Return,” leading me to suspect that franchising wasn’t a top priority – and for good measure.  The film’s self-contained nature works, introducing all of its principals economically (even in spite of a hasty reference to a larger enemy force).  After fifty years and umpteen viewings, the first intonation of “Bond, James Bond” remains instantly iconic and transcendently concise, telling us everything we need to know about the cool customer who’s arguably one of the top five good guys of all fiction.  The omnipresence of Monty Norman’s inimitable theme tune (you’re humming it now, I’m sure) solidifies its connection with this character’s every move.  And Connery, though not quite the Bond of Ian Fleming’s book series, inhabits the role to the hilt, able to handle flirting with Miss Moneypenny while convincingly delivering deadpan death threats to his foes.

As that foe, Wiseman sets the bar for the deranged Bond villain whose physical deformity (here, metallic hands) matches his insatiable insanity, an almost Dickensian move which unites psychological interiority with physical appearance.  His scenes are few, but Wiseman’s stern soft-spokenness sets Dr. No up as a man who is feared beyond his physical abilities.  His treasure room, too, in which he meets Bond, establishes his grand theatricality – another Bond villain hallmark – which Wiseman does well to underplay.  It’s surprising that he’s on screen for less than twenty minutes in a film which bears his name, but he shoulders the role well.

Andress, however, is disappointing, in part because her voice is distractingly overdubbed but more so because she doesn’t do much at all in a film dominated by such compelling leads.  I know that complaining about character development for a Bond girl is a little like chiding a ring for not being a bracelet, but I’ve been spoiled by later entries that do more with the female lead than just strap a bikini on her and set her a-snoggin’.  It doesn’t help that Andress’s dubbing exposes the basic emotionlessness of her performance; she describes an apparent rape with the same monotone ennui as she details her meticulous revenge, never convincing the audience that she’s capable of either.

What’s striking about Dr. No on this latest rewatch is how carefully and methodically everything unfolds.  There are actual clues, suspicions, and improvisations on the part of the Bond character.  He doesn’t enter the film with everything figured out; indeed, he’s a bit of a cipher, playing blank and allowing the drama to unfold around him as he pursues a resolution.  Of course, it helps that M (Bernard Lee) tells Bond most of what he needs to know at the beginning, but this is not a Bond movie that sketches out its players immediately.  Instead, the film includes as much deduction as action sequences, a strength of the film in light of the dated special effects.  I suspect, though, that modern audiences might get bored with a Bond film where Bond is more inscrutable than active.  I for one think it’s a credit to the filmmakers that the world they create is compelling enough to hold my attention when Bond isn’t doing anything.

As the first Bond film, it’s almost too easy to say that Dr. No is an instant classic, a trendsetter, and a first-rate spy film.  But it is.  With the franchise’s darkest hours ahead of me in the coming months, it’s good to revisit the original incarnation of the character and remind myself how they were made back in the good old days.  (They were made, of course, shaken but not stirred.)

Dr. No is rated PG.  There are a few deaths and fight scenes, though blood is only seen thrice.  Bond kisses and canoodles with many women (setting that famous precedent), though nothing in the film ever rises above the level of “tame by today’s standards.”

James Bond and The Cinema King will return in a review of From Russia With Love (1963), on February 7, 2013!