Review of Never Say Never Again (1983) by Themumblelover . — 27 Sep 2014

In the twelve years he was away from 007, Sean Connery lost little of his appeal. Even deep into Roger Moore's respectable run as the glamorized spy, it is tempting to argue that Connery's "Never Say Never Again," not Moore's "Octopussy," was the Bond movie to see in 1983.

After all, it features not only the quintessential Bond in Connery, but also legitimate movie stars in Kim Basinger and Max von Sydow. And thanks to a decades-long legal dispute it's a remake of "Thunderball," one of the meatier early Bond films, whereas "Octopussy" is scraped from a short story collection near the bottom of the barrel of the almost-exhausted Ian Fleming library.

But as it turns out, good actors and good source material do not a good 007 movie make, and "Octopussy," not "Never Say Never Again," was the better Bond in 1983. What the former has that the latter lacks is the trademarked trappings that make Bond Bond regardless of actor, regardless of time period, regardless of quality.

The gun barrel logo that opens almost every film in the official series; the jangly guitar riff theme; a Maurice Binder credit sequence; Lois Maxwell as Miss Moneypenny and Desmond Llewellyn as Q, two fixtures and fan favorites who have proven hard to replace since their retirements and deaths.

"Never Say Never Again" has to try to fill these shoes and inevitably falls short. It seems not even to have tried to replace the theme song, and it opts against a title sequence. It has a title song, but this stacks up poorly even against the forgettable and indecency-free song from "Octopussy.

" Even with Connery in the starring role, "Never Say Never Again" never feels like a real Bond movie. It feels like what it is: a knock-off. Not a cheap one; its budget actually surpassed "Octopussy"'s, in part due to Connery's salary and reported production problems, but with less bang for the buck.

Its vehicles and gadgets are fewer and less imaginative, its sets smaller. It tries much harder than "Octopussy" to be current, with its prominent use of 80s arcade games and 80s aerobics outfits and constant references to the passing of time and the aging of Connery, while "Octopussy" trades in nostalgia for colonial India, traveling circuses, and trains.

There is perhaps a lesson here for the latter-day, revisionist, relaunched Bond movies: Bond is a throwback hero, and works better in throwback settings than when he is shoehorned into the present. "Never Say Never Again" is not as relentlessly stupid as some of the worst official Bond films, but it's not smart or entertaining enough to be a good standalone action movie in its own right.

It has to be judged as a Bond movie, and Bond movies have to be judged by their own peculiar standards. "Octopussy" checks the Bond movie boxes, and "Never Say Never Again," being legally barred from so many of those boxes, is neither a convincing facsimile nor an attempt to forge new benchmarks.