ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE Part 3: Naked Ladies!

Following the pre-credits scene, which was pretty much a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart, OHMSS doesn’t miss a step with the credits themselves. Maurice Binder has been hailed for his work on the series’ famed title sequences, which was admittedly only sporadically successful. His work on OHMSS comes this close to being an unequivocal triumph.

There are two main Jungian themes at play within the sequence:

1. Clocks, Hourglasses, and the Inescapable Deteriorative Effects of Time

2. Sexy Naked Broads in Heraldic Poses

I promise you, that’s the only time you’ll read “sexy” and “heraldic” in the same sentence in your entire life. Enjoy it while you can.

The first image we see is the heraldic girls. Like the lions and griffons you see on British family crests, they are posed symmetrically and almost fascistically, with some holding tridents. It’s all very baroque and imperialist, but with the delightfully smutty edge that Bond movies provide so well. Elegance, tradition, glamour, all disgracefully undercut by the inclusion of erect nipples. Only in a Bond film. Not only is it funny, but it sets the tone and signifies the ins and outs of Bond’s world as described above.

It does more, too: as the title would indicate, this film has a preoccupation with Bond’s place on Her Majesty’s Secret Service. How deeply is Bond devoted to those ideals of Queen and country? Does he have a place there? Does he want a place there? These questions are touched on and answered in the film, but it’s in that subtle way that the Bond filmmakers did so well for so many years. These are, above all, fun comic-book adventures, with a few extra millimeters of depth there for those so inclined.

The second big motif is time. We see Bond clinging SAFETY LAST-style to the hands of a clock as they zip backwards through time. Not only does this tie in with the film’s themes of Queen and country (I may elaborate later in this analysis), but it works desperately to ingratiate George Lazenby with viewers. It’s saying, “No, don’t worry, this isn’t necessarily a bold step into the future of Bond with this dorky new guy – we’ll take you back to the fun times you had with Sean and his monumentally hairy chest. We promise! It’ll be fun!”

Then the most significant and time-consuming element: the outline of an hourglass, with scenes from previous Bond films passing down through it like time past. It’s a nice, even inspired, idea, but Binder (or the technical means he had to work with in 1969) doesn’t rise to the vision. The montage is awkwardly cut and sometimes distorted, and sometimes not. It’s generally a bit of a mess. An A for effort, though.

The whole thing is set against a foggy, swirling backdrop of psychedelic colours, again in keeping with the 1969 pop ethos. The final shot, of the heraldic nudes sweeping in for their final pose, accompanied by John Barry’s breakneck musical theme, is almost visceral.

Which brings us to John Barry. His work on this film’s music is regarded by a vast majority of Bond connoisseurs as being both his best work, and the best score in the series period. I disagree – he managed to top this score on arguably three occasions – but the fans definitely have a point. The score is never stronger than during this title scene, with the straight-up rendition of the main theme.

The theme is exciting, insistent, and strangely menacing, with plenty of funky ‘60s fuzz bass thrown in for good measure. Once heard, it’s never forgotten. It may even surpass than the actual James Bond Theme. Because it was never reprised in any other films, it retains a special connection to Lazenby’s Bond – it’s almost as though Lazenby’s Bond is a different character to his predecessor and successors, and this was his theme song exclusively. I like that. As a stand-alone film, OHMSS is brilliant. Unequivocally. But viewed as part of the Bond series…?

I might get round to that in another post. Hooray!