John Huston
James Bond 007, Casino Royale

In an unrepeatable year like 1967, in an equally unrepeatable decade, among many events, this unique film titled "James Bond 007 Casino Royale" was released. Yet another film in the Bond saga, some might notice... Well, just when "Bondmania" was raging worldwide as a fascinating pop phenomenon and a source of easy profits for everyone involved in creating works within such a golden vein, here comes a parody film that didn't shy away from taking some healthy jabs at the entire mythology of the secret agent in service of Her Majesty the Queen of Britain. And this ensures a certain historical significance for the film.

Some premises need to be set. The film is based on the first novel by Ian Fleming (an author who deserves an adequate rediscovery) dedicated to 007, namely "Casino Royale". The cinematic adaptation of this title was not realized in previous years due to a series of legal disputes related to copyright (I won't go into specifics to avoid digressing too much). When filming finally began at the start of 1966, there ended up being endless problems among the various directors involved in the endeavor (five—a record!) as well as between actors Peter Sellers and Orson Welles (the latter described the former as a poor actor, so you can imagine the sparks on the set...). The result: a film with a dizzying pace but not lacking a certain charm (perhaps unintentional...)

Recalling a rather convoluted plot serves limited purposes. In essence, the real Sir James Bond (a priceless David Niven) is disturbed in his peaceful retirement by the heads of the secret services of the major powers (USA, USSR, Great Britain, France) due to the disappearance of 11 secret agents who, apparently, fell victim no less than to seductive female charm (ah, the so-called "uallera").

Sir James Bond (quite irritated by the fact that, after his retirement, MI5 had given the registry number 007 to tireless womanizers) whether he wanted it or not, ends up returning to mission and setting up the following plan: employ various agents with the same number 007, just to confuse the enemies, and I would say also the spectators, skillful and charming enough to resist female seductive weapons (not an easy task...). Therefore, among others, involved are a baccarat master named Evelyn Tremble (unforgettable Peter Sellers), a deadly adventuress portrayed by Ursula Andress (as usual, breathtaking beauty following even into hell) and Mata Bond (daughter of a love affair between James Bond and the famous spy Mata Hari). All are driven by the intent to thwart the plans of the villain of the moment, Monsieur Le Chiffre (a wily Orson Welles) who operates on behalf of the organization Smersh (presumably of Soviet affiliation) and is accompanied by none other than Jimmy Bond (a neurotic and hilarious Woody Allen), Sir James's nephew. The pace is so relentless that it culminates after over 2 hours in a truly deafening and explosive finale (it's useless to specify further details, it would ruin the overwhelming sensation experienced by someone watching the film for the first time...).

Well, I was writing earlier about the historical significance of the film. Undoubtedly, what has always struck me about this work was its innovative approach, precisely in that year (1967), towards the Bond material. Just as that saga was rising to prominence, someone (primarily John Huston and the other directors, namely Ken Hughes, Val Guest, Robert Parrish, and Joe McGrath) had the wise idea of showing the world that, in the end, the king was naked.

Let's be clear: what was described with captivating prose in the pages of Ian Fleming's novels could have a certain effect. Translating it into cinematic images led to different results. At best, it was an elegant comic strip, technically well done and supported by commendable acting from Sean Connery (the first 007 is never forgotten...). But there could also result films that were too mannered, decidedly comic-bookish (and already in 1967 with "You Only Live Twice" the formula showed wear...).

In short, considering that even Connery himself felt the right need not to be identified solely as an actor in that role, shooting "Casino Royale" was providential. Certainly, watching it today gives off much of the vibe of a Helzapoppin turned psychedelic, with too much going on. But it couldn't be otherwise since even other films of agent 007 are always brimming with events and characters.

And then, in all honesty, seeing that this troubled world must resort to a secret agent to thwart the wrongdoers eager for power and lacking scruples toward the fate of the planet generates sadness and unease for me. James Bond seems every bit a superhero, an incarnation of the human, all too human dear to Nietzsche. If intoxicated by the will to power, what could he do, how far could he go?

Undoubtedly then "James Bond 007 Casino Royale" was a providential parody of the genre, and one mustn't forget that at the time in those affluent 60s, a film like this could also inspire good cheer to the viewer. But shortly thereafter, precisely in Italy at the end of that decade, talking about services and secret agents would no longer be a source of lightness, given the onset of the strategy of tension accompanied by massacres (such as at Piazza Fontana in Milan on 12/12/1969) carried out and covered up among others by various 007s. It was a sort of low-intensity civil war and, needless to say, when it came to tallying up real and not fictional deaths, there was no more room for good cheer.