28 February 2006

The new Bond and the cult of the Castrato

Good God man. Could they have picked a bigger wanker for the new Bond? First, as mentioned here at the Tattler, the new Bond-boy gets sea sick and scared of his introductory boat ride. Then it comes out he's afraid of guns. In his first fight scene, he gets his teeth knocked out. And now, the poor lad gets sunburned and is "moaning to his assistants that he's got prickly heat."

What a puss.

Upon further reflection, however, I wonder if the new Bond is a sign of the times? The old Bonds - most notably Sean Connery and Pierce Brosnan - were rough and tumble heartthrobs capable of doing whatever it took to get the job done; whether that job was to bed the foxy secretary of the evil villain to discover his secrets or to beat the snot out of a lower level bad guy to find out the location of the secret entrance. The old Bonds weren't afraid to shoot someone if they had to in order to complete the mission and they were capable of operating in any environment in the world.

Today's Bond looks like he has trouble wiping his own ass, can't fight, can't drive, can't shoot, can't swim and can't handle outdoor work. He strikes me as one of the new Castrato - neither masculine nor feminine, and unwilling or unable to offend anyone or take a strong position on anything for sake of not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings.

The old Bonds were what every man wanted to live up to - strong, handsome, smooth with the ladies, tough and reliable in a pinch, and capable of solving his own problems.

The new Bond? He gets the prickly heat.

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