Morning Style Merchants. Really want to chat bout personal Valentino clash in Thom Sweeney last week, or how to tackle Gothic look for tonights Nick Knight Widow Series bashment, but Bond thing is overpoweringly timely. Bond film-Spectre is effectively in the Panto format this time round: Espio-Panto is such a cool, new take on really old franchise. Someone said the film was camp. I can’t see that, but it is pitched as pure farce though, serving as slick subterfuge for the numerous product placements, which effectively only have to work as stills. For example, I heartily approve of the ivory Tom Ford tux jacket with impudent peak lapels and return to Bonds red boutonniere. Does the flower works as a tell for the rest of picture? This film was about returns to old values/plots, we are told, but actually showcased brave new comedy vehicles.
Duck ordered the Duck: Tom Ford ivory tux with red boutonniere.
Classic Bond villain, Franz Oberhauser, for example, is portrayed masterfully by Rob Bryden, who channels evil-Rigsby so effortlessly. Its artful stuff, worth the admission alone.
Oberhauser “No, I expect you to die, Miss Jones.”
Style wise, I much admire the simple Omega 300 Seamaster watch on fashionable Nato mesh strap. The bezel is particularly good, and will ask if ceramic or not, soon. In the film, it also lights up in red and flashes, then explodes. Brilliant functionality all round.
Its as if The Bond massive has auctioned off each and every one of all the sub-looks and slots in the film and got bids from brands on everything down to Bonds comfy aeroplane romper suit. All you need is that still photo from the film, and presto! instant cache, no matter what the actors are doing at that point with the script. Watches, cars, a tailor, guns, and some alcohol are entitled for a shout. Its part of the old scheme. Apres ski is allowed though, too. The N.Peal cashmere roll necks are very luxe-nice indeed and have sourced to cover in Das Sharpenoid column. Jah?
Meanwhile, fully enjoyed the Matchless suede jacket, another potench‘ story for actual men to wear. <do stuff about Bond ‘love’ interest?>
Matchless suede jacket.
Further cinematic positives include the end sequence with Bond stalking through a booby trapped MI5 building with photographs of ex-girlfriends and dead pals Blue-Tacked on walls of different rooms was like a cross between Metal Gear Solid (click), and a Valentine’s special You, Me, Bum-Bum Train (click). Proper hilarious. Super funny stuff, well done Bond people.
Things weren’t violent at all this time really, more pleasant/fun slap stick stuff, so no one gets particularly/convincingly hurt, it seems. Not like when a couple of episodes back Bond was influenced by The horrid, viscous and adrenaline charged Bourne Triology thingy, when the implied violence became more visceral. Talking of Bourne, one simply can’t imagine The Bourne lot ever coming up with the idea of the Pentagon getting blown up and raised to the ground? Never. But Spectre film achieves this outcome deftly, and the whole MI5 building gets demolished. Brilliant new plot twist. Whatever next, one wonders?
Other notes: Craig’s walk is insanely good. Can’t adequately describe, but its rather like he’s got a harness underneath his pant-trouser pulling his cotix up skyward, while he wiggles it up the crack of his arse using his straightened arms swinging for leverage. Stratham could simply not go here, am certain. Craig’s pout is utterly commendable too. World class pursing. Really major.
“Give us a kiss” D.C.
Suits weren’t quite a snug as before from Ford, but still quite to the body. Is to be expected. He didn’t get it out this time. Perhaps its gone to shit slightly. Only have to take your eye off the Swiss ball for a moment and middle age hits you like a pigs bladder stuffed with tripe and onions. I can vouch. Regardless, Bond’s black three piece funeral look for Rome is quite okay, bar the collar bar. Worries me that not Bondish at all, more Gary Barlow in X-Factor. Bars are supposed to bring the collar in, but this one is just there, like a face piercing. Collar quite high, and with leather gloves, channels a touch of Karl… Ford works well in black eyewear though, as ever.
Largerfeld cameo moment.
Think D.C. looked better in the terracotta and stone separates combo he wore the desert mini-break scenes, by Brunello Cucinelli. Nice short tie length, and really good Sprezzatura.
“hate it here”…Dubai Mini Break initially lacked chemistry.
The real show stopper word play was comic genius mind. The other new baddy is played by Andrew Scott; MI6 Boss, Max Denbigh is code name ‘C’, you see. This moniker is used hilariously in three different C-bomb centred gags. It’s as if ‘C’ stands for c*nt, you see, but it’s not actually the case. If people get angry/laugh cos they think its rude, they’re actually getting angry/laughing just at C! It really is such a scream. By far the most riskique moments of film, and on all three occasions that the script drags us through it. Clever stuff, reinvigorates the franchise no end.
Spec’ Savers: C-hole.
Also of letters, Q was quite charming. I like Ben Whishaw. Bless. Ralph was okay too in his DB stripe. And he lives near Holden, so might be able to tell him if we seeing him exiting his bolt hole. You should see who he drags back…
Only real complaint was during the opening moments featuring hundreds of extras in the Day of Dead scene rocking and swaying listlessly in suggested carnival mood, was really quite ultra pony. They looked as funky and rhythmic as a phalanx of Swiss ushers imported directly from The Basel watch fair, despite immaculate designer carnival garb . This unsuspended my disbelief entirely for the duration of film.
Excellent sure footed altitude walking shows early promise.
<write sign off here without upsetting anyone who actually considers this film to be acceptable/not insulting. >
Told you it was Panto.