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Reviews
Vivarium (2019)
Sense and Nonsense
Basically, the screenwriter went to a blank wall and threw anything that sticks. This is the premise of Viva la aquarium.
A couple is sales-pitched by a strange tract development salesman. He is so strange that they waive any red flags in their possession. Then, they follow the salesman to a his pitch of homes. Again, they ignore the red flags of
1. All the clouds look the same.
2. All the homes are the same
However, Number 9 must be their lucky number, because they remain clueless.
This could have been titled Clueless 2; with Alicia Silverstone as the strange neighbor. Speaking of which, the couple doesn't even knock on the other houses' doors. The sameness of the neighborhood reminds me of the classic scene in A Wrinkle in Time: all the children come out to the sidewalk at a designated time and play with their designated balls, all dribbling on time. It was eerie to me reading that in elementary school. As an aside, the film didn't even have this scene. It was not so eerie to see in in Vivarium.
It is all a letdownium. There are zero explanations. Is this a dream?
It could be Hell. But we have no clue if the couple have died, or what. A super brat arrives, and he grows to be a bratty adult. But he can be physically injured, since Imogene Poots (fun in most of her films) smacks him with a pick-axe, and he makes a ritching sound eek eek eek chittle chitter.
Three stars if only for the cute Imogene.
The Citizen (2012)
Winning the Lotto
Ibrahim has won a green card lotto. He has tried to emigrate to the United States for a dozen years. His run of bad luck: his parents were killed by bombs; the economy in three mid-east countries force him to find a stable job, but ultimately every country is a financial dead end. Despite all this, he maintains his positive attitude. Some may opine that he is too good to be true. But in reality it is the extraordinary that succeed.
The actors are very plausible. The script does hit the cliche buttons, but the direction and production values elevate a simple story. Fairy tales are simple; the best are not trite. In lesser hands The Citizen would be a B movie. Many of the scenarios have happened in real life. Jewish people have been mugged specifically because of their ethnicity, as have basically anyone who is targeted by losers as scapegoats. There are strangers who do step in. I've stepped in several times to assist guys being beaten or about to be. I didn't use violence, just de-escalated by my 'body language.' And so Ibrahim is personally very realistic. I've known people who have overcome greater setbacks, and retained their nobility and sense of humor. Again, without these extraordinary traits to begin with, they wouldn't reach the end zone.
Finally, Americans are not presented as one stripe. There are governmental bullies and decent ones. Anyone acquainted with current events know these things.
This is a simple film about the American ideal, which will always be attacked by her enemies, for the simple reason the American ideal stands for freedom and prosperity. In America, when you throw the dice, your odds are better than any other nation in the world. Ibrahim reminds a homeless guy, who is inspired to take one more chance on himself.
This story is a Yo, Adrian! And it could only be in New York. Maybe one day New Yorkers will remember who they were.
Our Man Flint (1966)
Derek Flint - Superhero
Before there was Bruce Lee, there was Derek Flint.
Before there was Mr Spock, Our Man was on the job (British double-entendre).
Before the big screen incarnations of Marvel/DC superheroes, there was Flint! Flint! Flint!
Hear me out, fair people, whilst I maketh my case that the creation of Derek Flint ranks in the pantheon of iconic characters like Robin Hood, Superman, Batman, Sherlock Holmes, and, yes, Bruce Lee, James Bond, Hercules, The Man With No Name, etc. Etc. Etc. ... Even Yul Brynner as the King (etc. Etc. Etc.). Even the King, Elvis!
Yes, one could write a book or PhD thesis on Flint, but we'll cut to the chase, if not the chaste (that's btw from the linear notes to the album OMF by the majestic Jerry Goldsmith).
So let's begin with the music. James Bond and The Man With No Name, Errol Flynn's Robin Hood, all have incredibly gifted film composers. Without John Barry, for example, Sean Connery's 007 would lose 50% of his magic. Clint's cheroot would be a weak stub without Ennio Moricone. Maestro Goldsmith delivers an epic score: main theme plus at least six other motiffs. Close your eyes and just groove, baby, and you'll dig what I mean. Hear the rifts as Flint is shaved by his concubine, Snoopy Cools through the island paradise (forgot Snoopy as a precursor to Flint, masters of all things -- fighter pilots, Olympic skaters, El Bulli chefs, matadors, dancers, fighters, and of course, lovers par excellence that leave Don Juan in the dust).
Unlike Bond, it would be nearly impossible for anyone else besides James Coburn filling Flint's handmade soles and soul. Perhaps Johnny Depp could attempt it, but never as on target as Coburn. Flint-Coburn was one of a kind.
Coburn said Flint was meant as a combo of Doc Savage and Sherlock Holmes. I know Holmes, but only Savage in passing. They are a meld of the cerebral and man of action. James Bond is brilliant, but Flint is a super-polymath autodidactic. It was the 1965/6 release of OMF that jumpstarted Bond's 1967 You Only Live Twice, with Bond exhibiting Flintian powers of fighting dozens of opponents, a villain in a volcano lair which explodes.
Flynn's The Adventures of Robin Hood should also be visited, because Flint is a swashbuckler. Both films have uncannily witty scripts, music, gorgeous leading ladies, great villains (Basil Rathbone, anyone? Edward Mulhare?). Snoots that are lovable to despise and yet pity when they square off against the perfect Flint/Robin. Ah, of course, Flint is also a master fencer, plus brain surgeon, rocket scientist, mega-linguist, martial arts master, doctorates in a dozen sciences, lead dancer for the Bolshoi, top student of Fred Astaire, Medal of Honor recipient, and probably Nobels in physics, chemistry and literature. In short, an inspiration for all renaissance men and women (unlike Bond, Flint is uber protective of his women. None of his girls are killed).
OMF is a groovy glimpse into the future, with eco-terroristists masquerading as woke benevolent heroes of social ills. He has three major opponent's, three uncle-types in white lab coats. Flint's credentials far exceed theirs, hence they refer to him as Mr Flint, not doctor. Flint is too cool for titles.
Flint is also the muse for Mr Spock and Bruce Lee. Leonard Nimoy channels much of Coburn's manner, voice; he even has a Vulcan nerve pinch, which is really the Flintian groove neck pinch. Bruce Lee had the ability to grip a man's trapezoid, sending them screaming to the ground.
OMF was released in Asian markets in1965, although listed as '66. My father was on vacation in Asia (14 y.o.) and he recalls that he viewed OMF twice in 1965. Was he taking a Galaxy happy pill? Coburn met Bruce Lee around 1968 and became one of his best celebrity students and champions in Hollywood. Along with screenwriter Stirling Silliphant (Oscar), Coburn was instrumental in helping Lee's struggles in Hollywood. It was Coburn who advised Lee to try his hand in Hong Kong, after years of Tinsletown bit parts. Flint's fighting style, staccato rhythms, whirling blows, high kicks, would be seen in Lee's TV Kato and his legendary Hong Kong films. Lee as a child star exhibited charisma, and his adaption of Flint's moves and presence were the piece de etcetera of The Dragon's film persona.
Lee J. Cobb deserves special mentor as the crusty director of ZOWIE (Zonal Organization for World Intelligence Espionage). His straight man is perfect foil to Flint's improbabilities. He even has a serious scene when he asks, 'Dammit, Flint... isn't there anything you don't know?' Flint: 'A great many things, sir.'
Coburn, thusly, brings a gravitas (a trait shared with Cobb) along with the camp. It was a genius move to cast him. No doubt his play in Charade was a tipping factor, opposite Cary Grant. I watched Charade for the first time last week; it has a Flint elan. The opening titles and music, ditto.
Flint is against the Bondian mold. Coburn isn't classically handsome, but is strangely good-looking. He has a shark grin, a pencil thin build. He isn't a government employee. Surely, the FIB would have a galactic dossier on him for his insouciance alone.
But above all, Flint has fun. Far sillier than Austin Powers, with even a breeze (a cool one) of believability: the human brain has the storage capacity if 10,000 years. It would be theoretically possible that a human could acquire encyclopedic knowledge and physical skills. Flint is an inspiration to hit the books, yet have a zest for life. Or as Flint's cousin Alexis Zorba might put it, lust for life. Btw, watch Coburn and Anthony Quinn as pirates in A High Wind in Jamaica. They seem like relatives. Flint is Zorba, Holmes, Batman/Bruce Wayne, Einstein, Bruce Lee, Pele, etc. He is an overlooked icon in film history.
A toast, then, to Monsieur Derek Flint, connoisseur of connoisseurs! Bravo, Maestro! Monsieur James Coburn, you are one for the ages. A pity great scripts couldn't continue the Flint adventures: if so, Coburn would have been a superstar, a la Sean Connery.
Connery's Bond may have had fun, but Flint WAS fun.
Finding Graceland (1998)
The King and Me
I'm not a super Elvis fan, but know a good thing when I see it. But I'm enough of a fan to have taken the Elvis tour in Kauai where Blue Hawaii was filmed. The guide told us the King would pretend to be a waiter during down time and serve folks in the restaurant. Also, flying into Hawaii, I watched Blue Hawaii. Waitaminute.... I thought this guy said he wasn't a big fan?
Elvis lived the American dream. He was a tragic Greek hero, flawed, but with a touch of the gods. There are no coincidences, and somehow he was destined. Like everyone, he was given free will but also human weaknesses. One wonders what human being could have done as much with his gifts, and also meet the same fate.
If Elvis did fake his death, then we can only hope that he did become an ambassador of fun and wisdom, as Mr Harvey Keitel's cover. Whether this is Elvis or not, he has supernatural something. Able to pick up women with a single bound, talk his way out in a run-in with The Law.
Such a great script, I'm curious about the screenwriter's other films. It should've garnered an Oscar, as should have the King's portrayal.
Bridget Fonda as usual doesn't disappoint. Her stage turn as Marilyn Monroe would take first place in a real competition. Solid acting throughout from all the mains. An almost flawless diamond.
Pricilla Presley was an executive producer. This is a top addition to the King's legacy. One could only hope that other families of icons would produce great films on their famous relatives.
Even if you're not a huge, huge fan, this comes highly, highly recommended. Tell them the King sent you.
Memphis.
Elvis and Anabelle (2007)
Thank you, thank you very much
****SPOILERS****As Sherlock Holmes might say between cocaine singular events, 'This is indeed passing strange, Watson. A tale of a curiously ambivalent breed, these aging teen morticians and their romantic adventures with suicidal Texas beauty queens.'
This could be titled Love and Morbidity.
Elvis and Charlie, his dad, have the greatest of love; although Charlie is impaired (but wiser than he seems), he knows what love is, and so does Elvis. When healthy, Charlie must have been a wonderful mortician.
However, Charlie's infirmities force Elvis to illegally perform dad's trade. As a trade, funeral science is not for everyone. The same can be said for this film. It's not Dr Strange flash, but of the two leads in a creepy world (depending on your definition of creepiness): Elvis excoriates his former coach, now on the embalming table -- 'Haha, who has the last laugh now, coachy coo?' But Elvis has positive traits in abundance. He is professionally respectful to the coach's widow. If only she knew, the King chuckles.
His hobby is a photo album of his clients. In another incredible coincidence, or plot hole, the one photo with the potential to destroy him is found in the wastebasket by Anabelle.
Anabelle has lived an existence of control, under the velvet (iron) glove of her very pretty mom, Geneva. She is trained to be a beauty queen. One training cycle is, of course, a flat stomach, which Anabelle and Geneva translate into a severe eating disorder, eventually nearly killing Anabelle. Another plot hole is that after Geneva's daughter returns from the dead, she continues her pain for gain philosophy, courting the media mob, ignoring that her training basically killed her daughter.
Anabelle runs away to the spooky but friendly rural funeral home. There, she seems content to luxuriate on the embalming table, but shrieks when she opens the freezer door. It seems that her character would more plausibly enter the freezer and poke around, speaking to the client.
In some cultures, this film would be very disturbing. For a friend from Iran, we watched Liam Neeson's excellent AFTERLIFE, with a murderous campy mortician. After the embalming table scene, where the deceased is prepared, he got up and said, 'Very scary!' and left.
At times we teased him, reminding him of 'Very scary!' But as of late, we stop reminding him. He has a great sense of humor and does laugh at his reaction. Elvis and Anabelle and friends hit some of the same vein (hahalol) as AFTERLIFE, but with the latter you understand there's going to be lurking creepiness and Neeson camp.
The two leads run off in the romantic hearse. Elvis may one day rent the darkmobile to other romantic Poe folk. After talks of suicide, the lovers make love in the hearse. I can only imagine experiencing this scene with a large audience: sigh, sigh, why don't we ....? What a turn-on and on! Next time I see a hearse, it's now or never! A few Elvis tunes would have been fun in these macabre scenes.
The most lovable character, Charlie, of course meets his fate, dying in the rain, reminiscent of Don Corleone last moments. Yes, Elvis must perform the ultimate sad duty, preparing his father. After, he attempts to kill himself, but is saved by a miracle.
Prior to the above, their first encounter: Anabelle is 'dead' on the table. Elvis kisses (technically there is no touch) her warm, dead lips, in a state of induced coma from freezing (this isn't explained; I suppose that she was beginning to thaw from the flash freeze, which presumably lowered her temperature to less than zero). The automatic camera interupts the romantic moment, and the photo is later found in the trash (see above). Dead or alive, Elvis ignores convention and (attempts) kisses her. Along with Love in the Hearse, this is a classic Capraian moment.
My score is half in, half in, half out. If your date is the type who has visited embalming rooms as a literal date (some of my friends actually did this), this one's for you. The production values and care are first-rate. Just ask your friend, 'Is a hearse on a beach a turn-on or off?' 'Would you order a drink called hearse on a beach?'
A commendable effort, but a strange one, Watson. It's a three pipe problem....
33 Postcards (2010)
When Strangers Become Family
'When strangers become friends, and then family' was the motto of a church I attended and volunteered cooking and serving food to the less fortunate. It was true, for I made lifelong friends, especially with the senior citizens. They became like aunt's and uncles; one called me her son #2 (she had one real son); also younger lifelong buds.
So I can relate to this movie's basic premise. Even if the production values, acting, etc had been sub par, it would still be worth the life lesson. But it has fine production values, and the acting is first-rate.
Further personal reason this story hits home is that my dad was an orphan, although he was raised by loving relatives. But he would come home from school to an empty house and cook his meal (everyone had jobs). The first sequence with Mei Mei being dropped off at the orphanage already grabbed my throat. To be alone in the world, a child, there are few things more poignant.
However, at least Mei Mei was in a kindly environment. And then a miracle stepped into her life. The Christian definition of an angel is either a spiritual being sent by God or a human being who is also a messenger of God's love.
'Mr Randall' is Mei Mei's angel. He is incarcerated in Australia. Despite his hard luck and choices, there is something magnificent in his heart; he has more wealth than the majority of humankind, but he takes himself for granted. He can't define for himself exactly why he takes the trouble to send money and love to a little girl. He creates a fantasy life that he shares with Mei Mei: he is a game warden who loves nature and lives near a beach with his loving wife and kids. Each letter and postcard (natural wonders of Australia) is signed, 'Love.' Although he may not be consciously aware, his real reason in reaching out to a little girl is love.
I read a novel recently with a similar theme of a man from Jamaica living in England. He phones his only daughter (if I recall correctly, she lives in Australia!), creating imaginary friends and adventures. In reality, he is withdrawn and unneighborly. But when she announces after many years that she is coming to London, he attempts to make friends so he won't be spotlighted red-handed.
The two leads are believable, their performances ring very true. Mei Mei appears much younger and naive for sixteen. But, she is much older and mature than the adults who have not walked in her shoes.
'Mr Randall' is finally given his medal of honor, of a life well experienced, who chose kindness over despair. Mei Mei gives him the title of Father.
I salute the filmmakers who created this diamond. It is simple and fine art. Their family and friends should be proud. All great characters live in a parallel universe, where viewers and readers experience them as real persons. Mr Randall and May are in that other dimension with our other beloved characters.
Mei Mei changed her name to May. Mr Randall could have changed his to Mr Samaritan. The Samaritans were outcasts in Jesus' day, but he chose an outcast to be an exemplar of his second greatest commandment: to love our neighbor.
Basic Instinct 2 (2006)
An American Psycho in London
Joe Eszterhas, screenwriter for Basic Instinct, opined 1/ the screenplay is king; there isn't a movie without a story 2/ professional reviewers don't make films themselves, because they lack the talent. That may be harsh, but with some bites of truth. At the least, opinions of the general moviegoer are as valid as the paid critic. I certainly prefer reviews by real movie goers.
BI2 genre is sexy suspense and murder, SSM. Everything revolves on this simple formula. A good director can craft a passable film from an average story. The better the screenplay, the greater chance some silver screen magic explodes.
BI2 is designed to be entertainment, a sincere effort by all involved. There may be plot holes, but plot holes can be overlooked with Hitchcock. And this is a Hitchcockian film, with suspense, fun, and a strong lead character.
Catherine Tramell is a James Bondish character. Her name suggests she may trample over others, or be a tramp; or she may make others tremble. Her chief weapon is the dream or nightmare of sex. She fairly proves the adage that sexiness begins in the mind. I'm reminded of a writer who observed Sophia Loren. By choice, she could appear in public as an ordinary human being and would be ignored in a crowd. And then she would transform her aura and she became Sophia Loren and all eyes flashed as she walked by.
Sharon Stone consciously or subconsciously keeps Tramell in the redline. Either she or her targets must surely burn out. But the diva isn't to be taken solemnly, only seriously. The glide of time from San Francisco to London has improved her vintage.
007 can say and do outlandish things. Realists will find more believable characters elsewhere. But the Bond/Tramell universe is for those who understand fantasy/lust. Again, the seduction begins in the mind. CT believes she is the sexiest being in the room. She would paraphrase Bruce Lee, when asked, 'How good are you?': "If I told you I was no good, you would know I am lying. If I told you I was good, you would say I am bragging."
The question, is CT a sociopath in her utter self-belief? Does her self-belief make her a sociopath? Is she a chess grandmaster or a victim of coincidence?
London's cheerfully phallic Swiss Re tower is a big hint on BI2 team's mission statement. It looms over the characters with a big wink. Especially on psychologist Dr Glass. (Does his name signify his transparency? Or is he simply an a**?). Like the forgotten detective in San Francisco, Dr Glass has zero chance against Tramell, Catherine Tramell.
The ensemble acting is better than BI, their characters are better. Plus, the co-leading ladies are more attractive, which runs with the 'Bond formula.'
This is entertainment. Some don't like roller coasters on principle. BI2 takes you on a ride, if you want to take the comfortable thrill.
I didn't even know BI2 existed. I assumed it would be a failed effort. Glad I was wrong. I suggest this to both sexual manipulators and their (willing or unwilling?) victims. A winky film in the best sense.
Meet Joe Black (1998)
The Good Billionaire
Anthony Hopkins plays a rare breed: a billionaire who is loved by his family, and by his employees. At his core, he is a near saint, and not a boring saint. Actors often opine that evil characters are more compelling than good, for good = goody two-shoes in their definition. Hopkins' Bill is a man you would love as your father-in-law, or boss. Some of my mentors embody Bill's core decency, so I can vote with a little true life experience. I assume Bill's backstory is similar to my mentors: they made their material fortunes from humble beginnings without literally losing their soul. To Bill, his portfolio takes a very far back seat to his character.
It is little wonder Bill is loved. He is chosen by the Angel of Death (death is dramatic, so he deserves such a title) because of his uniqueness in all the world. Bill could have been a cab driver, a chef, a doctor. But Death prefers a man who has been tempted by the world, and has become 'the luckiest guy in the world' (paraphrasing Bill). The dangers to the soul are probably magnified for a billionaire, rather than a fisherman.
Cinematically, of course, a billionaire's world is more colorful than an 'average' Joe. MJB is evocative of a 1940 black and white, with Humphrey Bogart as Bill, and Audrey Hepburn as Susan, a daddy's girl.
Professional critics may say Susan is an insipid character, literally too good to be true. She's an heiress, but chose to be a physician. (Again, from personal experience I have known beautiful doctors who loved their parents, and never snobs. Susan, to me, is realistic, because Bill is her father, plain and simple.)
Drew, Susan's doomed fiance, is not a total baddie. In the beginning we see his charity to Joe. He gives him the benefit of the doubt: who is this stranger? He isn't unkind, but doesn't have a 'Bill' heart.
I suppose that Bill's weak heart is a metaphor. It's ironic that a man with such a strong spiritual heart is burdened with a failing ticker.
I recently watched this by the stream, so was able to pause for peanut butter breaks (Joe finds happiness in the little things, such as peanut butter). Three hours is fitting for an old-fashion film with no car chases or explosions. The pacing is appropriate for the theme; you don't rush death or taxes.
This is a romantic movie. Bill is a romantic, and he's experienced a happy life, so score one for the romantics. (Einstein was a romantic; he basically chose to view life as a miracle.) When he makes a mistake, he apologizes. When others fall, he forgives.
If love is for you, this movie is 101. Not just romantic love, but love beyond. I couldn't envision my valentine who could dislike MJB.
I should probably give this ten stars. But imperfection in life and films ... can be forgiven.
Live and Let Die (1973)
Roger Moore is Slang for Sexy Bits
In a close-up of Bond's feet with a slithering snake on the floor. Roger Moore complained the flat feet were his stand-in's. He took in in stride, though. Moore reveals the backstory in his 007 Diaries, which have been recently republished.
This is Moore's best Bond, a balance of "serious" Bond and over-the-top, in particular Sgt. Pepper. Other than the villain's bland desire to flood the market with heroin, this has a witty script; Bond girl Jane Seymour as Mr Big's personal psychic hotline; two excellent henchmen, the iron-handed Tee Hee; Geoffrey Harris -- actually playing two parts, one as Baron Samedi, ruler of the underworld.
David Hedison introduces a Felix Letter who is more than a throwaway character. He wrote the introduction for the 007 Diaries: he considered Roger Moore to be his closest friend. The bemused affection onscreen is authentic.
The score by George Martin delivers a funky Bond sound. His Into Harlem rendition of the Theme is the best in the series, with the five-note anchor equal rhythm, rather than the traditional long notes. While John Barry is the Master, I wouldn't mind if Sir George had scored other Bonds. He had a desire, but declined because he didn't want to take his friend JB's job.
Finally, Roger Moore delivers his best 007. In later films he ventured deeper and deeper into the camp camp. He isn't delivering a 'Connery' but a unique package. I'm reminded of James Coburn, who created the indelible Derek Flint, light years beyond the Bond mold. Sir Roger does much the same; regrettably his latter Bonds lost LALD-Bond combo of fun plus danger.
Rewatching Connery, his first three Bonds were rather too obviously Elvis Bond. I say this because of Elvis' patented upturned smile and innocent bedroom eyes. Connery did much the same, with greasy lips and fluttering eyes. Moore was a funny gentleman in real life who was a fine ambassador for the Bond brand (along with Pierce Brosnan). Connery was only a so-so ambassador. Craig was even worse, admitting he did it only for the cash. He stipulated that 007 must be killed, but that's another rant. Craig's Bond is just a thug poseur. Actually, Moore's Bond is the one you would keep an eye on in a sanitarium: smooth, charming, a con man sociopath who keeps you guessing. Craig is just the fake with gym muscles who would weep jumping out of a plane at 30,000 feet; Moore would just raise an eyebrow.
Other than stunt flat feet, Moore did much of his own stunts, including driving the bus and boats. He also is lean and fit-looking.
The famed words, Bond, James Bond is undergirded with a great Martin secondary theme. It ranks with the two other iconic BJB scenes in Dr No and Goldfinger. One can appreciate Moore's subtler delivery with Connery's semi Elvis.
In was only until You Only Live Twice that Connery hit his stride with a subtler characterization.
The cast delivers with a witty script for all: Bond, Kananga, Solitaire, Tee-Hee, Baron Samadi Twice. Don't forget Pepper, the taxi driver (two different actors). Whisper is the only guy who isn't enjoying himself.
Lastly, thanks to Guy Hamilton. When he was good he was very, very good.
On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969)
No Time to Cry
The Fleming book gave us a Bond at the tail of his 00 adventures. The next, You Only Live Twice would be the last complete Bond; Fleming died and The Man With the Golden Gun was unpolished.
OHMSS bonds James with a Don Corleone figure, before Brando filled the shoes and cheeks. Marc-Ange Draco ihas a saintly name, has a code of honor. In Bond, he sees a man good and tough enough for his self-destructive daughter, also with a saint's name, Teresa. She had a failed marriage, a title, and a miscarriage. Marc-Ange offers Bond one million pounds to marry Tracy. Bond cannot be bought and refuses.
This is Bond at his best, both silly but realistic at the right parts. In form, it reminds me of Errol Flynn's Robin Hood in storyline and production values.
If Connery had made this, he probably would have rocket skiis.
Lazenby is super Bond in incredible skiing sequences. He also fights better than the other Bond actors. The beach fight has shades of cowboy flicks with surf brawl. Although not an experienced actor he knows a few tricks in not being boring.
John Barry delivers one of his best. Barry was responsible for 50% of the Bond magic. Louis Armstrong's poignant and ephemeral love song brings a dimension that few Bonds have.
If you read the book, you will Doubly appreciate the film. Kudos to director Peter Hunt for sticking to his vision, the cinematographer, second unit, etc. Fleming would be proud.