The ‘Bond Girls’ were pioneers, not doormats
When Honey Ryder (Ursula Andress) emerged from the Caribbean Sea in a white bikini in 1962, she was the first in a very long line of objectified women in the James Bond film franchise. Throughout the series – which, as announced last week, will return for another instalment in 2019, with Daniel Craig once again donning his tuxedo under the direction of Danny Boyle – a range of beauties have been paraded on screen to satisfy the priapic demands of 007 (and indeed many viewers). They have had to endure bottomslapping, physical restraint and unwanted tongue sarnies – sometimes with a deeply disturbing subtext that suggested this is what they really wanted. Watching many of the films now can be uncomfortable. Anthony Horowitz, whose second Bond novel, Forever and
a Day, is released at the end of the month, recently admitted that he finds it incredibly hard to portray Bond’s relationship with women in the age of the MeToo movement. He outright refuses to refer to them as “Bond girls”.
But Horowitz’s concerns are nothing new. For years, there has been a strong dissenting voice against the films from those who saw the female characters as a beauty pageant, and who were aghast at the casual misogyny of a man meant to be a hero. While we must be careful not to chastise a different era with our own 21st-century sensibilities, there is no doubt that James Bond behaved very badly. But do the “Bond girls” really deserve their doormat reputation?
Because of his often cavalier attitude towards women, we tend to assume that they are mere figurines in Bond’s tableau vivant of sex and violence. But I don’t think this is true. Over the years, we have seen many strong, assertive, clever, pioneering female characters. There is Pussy Galore in Goldfinger who, if you can get past the name, is a woman with incredible agency and played with delicious chutzpah by Honor Blackman. She’s an aviatrice
nonpareil, and uses her judo skills on Bond very early on. “What would it take for you to see things my way?” asks an exasperated Bond at one point. “A lot more than you’ve got,” she replies. When she does succumb to his charms, it is on her terms.
Prior to the release of Spectre, the filmmakers were crowing about Monica Bellucci’s character Lucia Sciarra being more formidable, more forward-thinking than previous Bond girls. Yet the role, an inscrutable widow, was little more than a cameo. If anything, it was a step backwards.
In On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, we meet Tracy Draco (Diana Rigg) who, when we first see her, is on the brink of suicide, overcome by the death of her child. Tracy is a woman who is allowed to be feminine and whose troubles are given screen time. The fact that she is later shot dead by Blofeld only heightens one’s compassion for a fully realised character whose strength comes from a certain psychological truth.
And what about Miss Moneypenny? On the surface she is a manifestation of the secretary fodder which was the working girl’s lot until the late 20th century. And yet, you are often left feeling that she is far superior to James Bond. You can see her power early on in the nicely judged performances of Lois Maxwell (Moneypenny during the Connery and Roger Moore eras) who allowed herself to flirt with 007 but then always drew back with a sharp put-down. “Flattery will get you nowhere, but don’t stop trying,” she tells him in Doctor No. Miss Moneypenny, you feel, could have James Bond for breakfast
Women are often responsible for saving Bond’s life. In From Russia
with Love, he would have been killed by the poisonous toecap of Lotte Lenya’s Rosa Krebb, had Tatiana (Daniela Bianchi) not fatally shot her. Then there is Vesper Lynd in Casino
Royale, played by Eva Green, and perhaps the greatest Bond character of all. When 007 is poisoned and fails to connect a key wire to his defibrillator in Casino Royale, it is
Lynd who makes the crucial connection. After a stunning act of deceit involving embezzlement, Vesper kills herself because, you feel, she would rather die than live with a residual sense of guilt. This is a tragic heroine of operatic proportions.
While many women are simply used to demonstrate their bedside manner or to be rescued from diabolical masterminds, there are many more who are tough, clever and, above all, interesting. If you look beyond the well-appointed glamour, you’ll see that there’s no shame in being a Bond girl.
Over the years, we have seen many strong, assertive, clever, pioneering female characters