ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE Part 4: The Gambit of Shame

After the requisite pre-credits and credits action, ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE (1969) dials things back a notch to allow room to establish things. You know, the sort of things essential to movies: characters, plot, things like that. It follows the same basic thread of Ian Fleming’s source novel: James Bond drives to a casino/hotel, gambles, meets crazy girl, has sex with her which gets the attention of her Mafioso daddy, understandably freaks out at this prospect, etc. Director Peter Hunt uses this little “mini-movie” portion to great effect at settling George Lazenby into the role.

Bond arrives at his hotel after his unusual morning at the beach and starts throwing his weight around. Those porters sure as hell better be careful with his golf clubs! The management seems familiar with him, and give him the honeymoon suite at a moment’s notice, etc. Lazenby is completely at ease during these scenes, and in less than a minute we have a good handle on who this Bond guy is: a good-natured, nomadic adventurer with expensive tastes, and the clout to indulge them.

After settling in, Bond heads to the casino. At becomes obvious that he’s not on any sort of government business. He’s here to party. Please note the hot ladies who check him out as he first strides into the casino – it’s touches like this that remind the viewer how much fun it would be to be James Bond. Above all, Lazenby’s Bond seems to have the most fun, and he has good reason. Lazenby was the youngest actor to play Bond (28 at the time of filming), and it shows. He has a vitality and earthiness that Connery’s Bond, and subsequent Bonds, didn’t quite have. This Bond seems like he should be dropping acid and listening to The Rolling Stones in between punch-ups and ski chases. The long hair and beard that Lazenby sported post-shooting (see below) would not actually be out-of-place on Bond in this film. However, Lazenby’s rough-and-tumble presence works will with the Bond character’s fanciness – like he was a tough adventurer/vagabond whose sheer skill enabled him to fall into a high-paying superspy gig, and is using his status, freedom and government-sanctioned "licence to kill" to finally indulge his fantasies.

Bond then plays baccarat. Successfully. It’s worth noting that whoever cast his table-mates did a phenomenal job of finding look-alikes for the characters described in the novel. There’s the little Agatha Christie-esque woman, the “monstrous” textile tycoon from Lille, all exactly as one imagines them from reading the novel. Then, another touch directly from the novel: a lovely slice of cleavage hovers over the table and makes a rash bet.

The cleavage turns out to belong to none other than Tracy! Remember? That girl Bond assumed was committing suicide! Bond watches her play, suspicious, and his suspicions turn out to be valid, because Tracy loses a hand big-time, and then reveals that she has no money to cover her loss. In the book, it’s further explained that this will result in Tracy being blacklisted across Europe, and this can be inferred from the film. Bond, gentleman that he is, settles her debt with the explanation that they agreed to be “partners” in the casino that evening. Nobody buys it, but Bond has made a wise move: he’s impressed a hot lady for the second time in one day. He knows what this means. The look on Lazenby’s face says it all. To quote Christopher Walken in BATMAN RETURNS: “Unlimited poontang”.

Take a look at the stack of plaques Bond leaves the baccarat table with: substantially thicker than what he went in with, even after covering Tracy’s debt. This Bond is a man who can make enough money in one night at a casino to comfortably support himself for the next decade. This feeds into Bond’s role as audience fantasy surrogate. OHMSS as a whole, and specifically these early scenes, is among the most fantasy-feeding films in the whole series. Who wouldn’t want to be this guy?

Bond gets to talking to Tracy, and Diana Rigg finally gets her first real scenes in the film. Now would be a good time to mention that Rigg makes for the finest Bond girl ever. She absolutely, and confidently, nails all the qualities that make Tracy stand out as a character: the fierce intelligence, the maturity, the confidence, the humour, the haughtiness, the vulnerability, and the slight craziness. The role of Tracy is a complex one whatever way you cut it, and Rigg never misses a step. She’s such a forceful presence in the film that she often outright steals it out from under Lazenby, which is actually not at all harmful to the point of the movie. Of all the lovelies paraded through all 21 (and counting) films, there’s still no doubt that Tracy was the one Bond should have married.

Yes, he marries her at the end of the movie. Don’t act so surprised. Oh, and she gets shot in the head as well! Spoiler!

Diana Rigg is hot as well. This helps grease the film’s wheels somewhat. And she has great chemistry with Lazenby, a chemistry that I can’t imagine her sharing with Sean Connery had he played the role. Would they have cast Rigg if Connery had continued on? If not, would the character of Tracy have been more of a simpering wastrel than Rigg’s interpretation, as per Fleming’s novel? Who knows?

After their initial banter, Tracy arranges to have a one-night stand with Bond. Truly, this is the girl of all our dreams. Bond, too, seems overjoyed at the prospect, but then it sinks in on him for the first time that not all her birds might be chirping. He seems contemplative for a moment. Would bedding her be tantamount to rape? Taking advantage of a clearly overwhelmed, frightened woman?

The film immediately cuts to Bond confidently entering her hotel suite in search of unlimited poontang, so obviously Bond ignored his qualms. Once inside, he is attacked by Che Che (Irvin Allen), a hulking guy dressed vaguely like a sailor. Another fight ensues, and this one is no less impressive than the beachfront fight that opened the film. These two guys bash each other senseless, shattering furniture and sending the sound-effects technicians into a frenzy. This further seals the film’s claim to having the best action in the whole series. Lazenby is unstoppable in these fight scenes. Bond eventually flattens Che Che and leaves the suite, pausing only to steal a bit of caviar. “Royal beluga – north of the Caspian!” he says to himself. Oh, James, you’re so refined!

Bond returns to his own suite, clearly disappointed to have found, in lieu of a naked Diana Rigg, a monstrous guy dressed like a sailor who wanted to kill him. Who wouldn’t be? While licking his wounds, he is ambushed by Tracy. They banter again, but this time Bond’s tired and hurt and has had enough of her bullshit. If I got attacked by thugs every time I spoke to a woman, I’d start getting pretty pissed off as well. He even roughs her up a bit in his quest for the truth, enabling the audience to see through the lackadaisical charm for the first time at how ruthless Lazenby’s Bond can, and often has to, be. He’s a hard bastard, and always fully in-charge.

She still pleads ignorance, and he believes her, and the tension melts between them. Bond finally voices his concerns: “I think you’re in some sort of trouble.” She won’t say what it is. This surely displeases Bond, but sex is on the menu, so things end happily for Bond’s casino holiday. This scene also features a hefty bouquet of flowers on Bond’s suite balcony, and according to Peter Hunt on the DVD, flowers were a motif of the film. I don’t know that they’re supposedly to signify exactly (Tracy’s presence? The tranquility that her presence provides?), but they’re there if you want to read into them.

Bond awakes to find that Tracy’s checked out, and has paid back his debt. Bond then leaves the hotel in a rather wonderful mustard-coloured jumpsuit with an orange skivvy, only to be abducted at gunpoint by yet more thugs, including Che Che. Bond’s heedless confidence in the face of such danger is really amusing, and, again, you really wish you were as cool as this guy. He is whisked away to a dockyard. The dockyard seems to employ a midget janitor who whistles “Goldfinger” while sweeping the floor – yet another reminder that this is still the same series of films.

Bond decides he’s had enough of these guys, so beats them senseless in another fight scene. This one pushes things way over-the-top, and is so full of zooms and crazy sound effects that the action becomes impossible to follow. This is among the most psychedelic moments in the film. Bond then busts into an office, which is amusingly quiet and calm compared to the battle that just went on outside its door.

Here, Bond (and the audience) meets Marc-Ange Draco, Tracy’s father, for the first time. The character was likeable in the book, but Gabriele Ferzetti’s performance sends his Loveability Factor through the roof. Draco is apparently the head of the Union Corse – France’s version of the Mafia – which would normally entail being a horrible, bloodthirsty bastard. Ferzetti’s depiction of Draco doesn’t run counter to these assumptions – after all, when he’s talking to Bond, he’s in “charming” mode, not “I will cut off your daughter’s fingers if you don’t pay protection money” mode.

He and Bond then have an intimate chat, with Draco revealing that Tracy is indeed troubled, and that he thinks Bond would make an ideal foil for her – “What she needs is a man, to dominate her! To make love to her enough to make her love him!” These are wise words, my friends, but Bond already knows the score. Bond declines Draco’s gracious offer of his daughter’s poontang. Draco then sweetens the deal, offering Bond millions in gold. Bond seriously considers this offer – he’s only human after all – but then decides that he doesn’t need a million pounds. Of course not – we saw him win that amount last night. Jesus, this guy is awesome. And he has a bachelor’s taste for freedom!

Financial security. Ability to kick anybody’s ass. Easy-going charm. The love of any woman he wants. Yes, this Bond is the perfect man, one all men aspire to be, and one all women would surely like to possess. It’s important that Bond is set up as being this unstoppably awesome and independent early in the film, because it becomes important to the whole later. Bond allows his perfect lifestyle and self-assurance to be undermined – pleasantly, that is – by love for Tracy. Then, when she eats a delicious bullet sandwich at the end of the film, that delicate balance comes crashing down from underneath Bond. It’s really quite tragic.

What else? Oh, yeah – Bond makes a deal to start seeing Tracy again if Draco will help him track down super-villain Ernst Stavro Blofeld – guy Bond fought against in four of the last five Bond movies. Draco agrees, and then the film shifts from lovey-dovey mode to secret-service mode. Yay!