The Topsy-turvy World According to James Bond

This morning, I woke up with relevance on my mind. The concept of the degree to which something is useful to what is happening outside it is a subject that weighs heavily on me and has for some time —

If I were to fall in the forest, would anyone hear the thud?

The question of whether one is relevant inside our own little world, be it through relationships (as a significant other, a parent, a child, a sibling, or a friend) or if it’s found in an occupation, is no more glaring than at significant milestones and are sped up exceedingly on social media —

Am I dead when my body stops functioning, or is it when no one’s around to see my comments and pictures online?

The clinical/philosophical explanation is an existential crisis, a.k.a. identity freak out —

who am I? What’s my point? Does anything I do really matter?

I can blame my latest worry on Bond, James Bond, Mr. 007 himself. Cue a menagerie of silhouetted scandalously clad women swimming, balancing on a gun barrel, or jumping on a trampoline here.

Over the Thanksgiving weekend, my husband and I thought it would be fun to watch James Bond movies.

Because there are so many different Bonds, we decided to group the films according to the actor, the decade, and our favorite story within those parameters, starting with the most recent and going backward (except for Timothy Dalton — I have yet to see a single Dalton-Bond movie. I don’t know why!)

While watching one movie after the other, it quickly became evident that Bond films are a great time capsule reflecting the attitudes, worries, and gender roles of the moment.

In Daniel Craig’s version (Casino Royal), he’s a man with a chip on his shoulder fighting an evil underground conglomerate controlling everyone and everything. He has a love interest who is whip-smart and attractive and his equal. See? Modern-day relevance.

Pierce Brosnan’s Bond (GoldenEye) from the 90’s is a little different. He’s gorgeous, even as his lip bleeds, having been bitten by an evil temptress (Xenia Onatopp — kid you not, her freaking name is Onatopp!) who gets off on violence. And he’s suave, even as he drives a tank down the street, picking building rumble off his pristine tuxedo shirt.

The Brosnan-Bond’s bad guy is a double-crossing spy and a Cold War holdover. His love interest is an independent Russian computer hacker with a Rachel haircut, wearing thigh-grazing skirts over thick tights and chunky-heeled loafers — she’s the one with the chip on her shoulder and a heart made of ice until Bond melts her — of course!

We watched two Roger Moore-Bond movies (A View to a Kill and For Your Eyes Only). Roger Moore was the Bond, my husband and I grew up with, and we were looking for a pinch of nostalgia, but that’s where the relevance stopped cold.

Everything about the films was cringe-worthy. From the genetically engineered psychopath (A View to a Kill) and his ridiculous getaway vehicle (a Blimp) to the extraordinarily grotesque sexist/misogynist in For Your Eyes Only (exampled by a boy-crazed ice skating child a.k.a. Bibi Dahl-a name uncomfortably close to Barbie Doll, throwing herself at a man three times her age only so that it would be less disgusting when Bond goes for a woman only half his age) — cue dry-heave here.

Which is more real, how I perceive myself or how others perceive me?

Another glaring out-of-date moment was the number of times James Bond is chased down a ski slope by bad guys shooting something resembling AK-47s (hint to bad guys from the 70s and 80s, do not go into triangle formation, on skis, while shooting at a moving target. A guarantee to be killed by friendly fire — just saying) —

Which is scarier, that we are the least form of intelligent life out there or the most?

The good news is, according to James Bond movies, the world is changing for the better…kind of. Maybe?

As I analyzed Bond’s ever-changing character, I couldn’t help but turn the spotlight inward.

Am I like the James Bond movies, constantly adapting to the world’s ideals and expectations, or am I more like individual 007s, stuck in attitudes and perceptions inside bouffant hairstyles and go-go boots?

Perhaps it’s even more straightforward than that?

Relevance is where you are at this exact moment, and what you do with that space and time counts the most.

But then again, what do I know?

I’d love to hear your thoughts and where you are on your existential journey!