Recently, over drinks with a friend, the conversation took a sudden turn from my preferred substance (vacuous) to something deeper when the friend began lecturing me on how the world was spinning off its political/environmental/cultural axis and soon would—mark his words—fling itself into the sun and reduce mankind to ash. Deservedly so, he added.

I said nothing, the hope being that my silence would fizzle his social/moral passions like an oxygen-deprived fire, thus allowing me to re-introduce something more conversationally appropriate, like the TikTok I watched featuring a live monkey riding on the back of a domesticated goat.

Later, while chewing over my friend’s perspective as I drove home, I found myself agreeing with his claim that, indeed, the world was self-immolating. But not for the reasons he suggested (political/religious extremism, gun violence, Queen Elizabeth grief, etc.).

Rather, it is my studied opinion that humanity has little chance of survival because of the widely held belief that James Bond’s 11th outing, 1979’s Moonraker, flat-out sucks. (“Outlandish” said one critic. “Truly mindless spectacle…with one of the worst theme songs,” said another. Opined a third: “Most rational observers agree that Moonraker is without a doubt the most absurd James Bond movie, definitely of the Roger Moore era and possibly of all time.”)

Well, they are wrong. Let me explain why this film floats at the apex rather than rests at the nadir of the franchise.

Quick Plot Synopsis

A U.S. space shuttle, owned by Hugo Drax (Michael Lonsdale)—think Elon Musk but without the penchant for siring children out of wedlock—and graciously loaned to Great Britain, is hijacked mid-air over Canada. Bond (Roger Moore) is sent to apologize on behalf of her Majesty’s government and, no doubt to pad the runtime from three minutes to 126, discover what really happened. First stop: Drax Industries’ shuttle plant/Drax’ private hunting chateau, both located inexplicably in the California desert, where, in short order, Bond…

• refuses a cucumber sandwich;
• beds a helicopter pilot who’s soon killed by dogs;
• meets a beautiful woman with the surname “Goodhead” (Lois Chiles);
• almost gets killed in a sabotaged g-force centrifuge;
• shoots a potential assassin with a long-gun while pheasant hunting.

Turning his attention to Venice (Italy, not the bohemian California beach community), Bond tries to get to the bottom of some peculiar glass containers he photographed with a nifty spy camera back in Drax’ chateau. Being a man of action, in no time Bond has…

• accidentally killed a couple scientists in a secret la-bore-atory by mishandling a deadly nerve agent;
• destroyed dozens of priceless glass sculptures housed in a museum;
• discovered Dr. Goodhead is a CIA agent and, of course, beds her;
• thrown one of Drax’ henchmen headfirst through a piano;
• engaged in a gondola chase that culminates with a pigeon doing a double-take in Piazza San Marco.

We then trot to Rio, where Bond, within hours of his plane touching down …

• beds his local contact in the Presidential Suite (“How do you kill five hours in Rio—if you don’t Samba?”);
• barely escapes a Rio Carnival encounter with everyone’s favorite metal-toothed assassin, Jaws (Richard Kiel);
• descents Sugarloaf mountain via a chain flung over a cable while a huge gondola car speeds after him;
• converts his motorboat into a hang glider to avoid another clutch of Drax henchmen who are trying to chase him over an Amazonian waterfall;
• kills an anaconda with a pen;
• uses a explosive watch to escape being barbecued by a rocket engine;
• travels aboard a space shuttle to a huge space station.

Best not to spoil any more, let you experience the brilliance on your own. Spoiler alert: the denouement involves Jaws opening a champagne bottle with gentle squeeze of his meaty hands!

Franchise Finest Bona Fides

Full disclosure: Moonraker was the first Bond film my parents allowed me to see, at the tender age of 10, in a movie theater. So it’s incredibly near and dear to me. To remedy this lack of objectivity, let’s lean heavily on my highly proprietary algorithm to dispassionately rank the film.

Pre-Credits Sequence—What would a Bond film be without the action equivalent of an amuse-bouche? Who can forget that Union Jack parachute unfurling over Bond after he skis off a cliff in The Spy Who Loved Me? Or Bond destroying a South American dictator’s military base with a mini-jet in Octopussy? Or that rocket pack escape after Bond assassinates SPECTRE operative, Jacques Bouvar, in Thunderball.

Well, Moonraker puts them all to shame with a sequence involving Bond falling from a plane without a parachute. What transpires is a miraculous bit of stunt work and cinematography.

Bonus point awarded for Jaws flapping his arms like a bird to slow his descent into a circus tent. Same bonus point subtracted for the bad rear-projection work for Moore closeups, which totally take one out of the scene and make a mockery of the audacious mid-air stunt work. (Score: 9/10)

 

Exotic Locales—Like all the best Bond films we trot the globe with abandon—London, California, Venice, Rio, the Amazon. This, of course, is part of the franchise’s allure. It gives us average Joes a glimpse of exotica that we’ll never see in person. Moonraker ups the ante by taking us to near-Earth orbit, even if it’s just pinpricked black velvet with models in the foreground. Talk about aspirational! (Score: 9/10)

Extravagant Sets—The Bond franchise has a history of sparing no expense on practical sets, introducing us to extravagantly huge spaces that couldn’t possibly exist in the “real” world. Picture that secret rocket base housed in a volcano in You Only Live Twice. Or the villain Stromberg’s underwater hideout in The Spy Who Loved Me. Or that underground mine set in A View to a Kill (RIP Grace Jones’ May Day!)

The man responsible, at least for many Bond films up through Moonraker? A brilliant production designer named Ken Adams, who also designed the War Room set for Dr. Strangelove. However, it is my opinion that Moonraker is his magnum opus. From the centrifuge chamber at Drax Industries to the secret nerve gas laboratory in Venice, and from Drax’ mission control tucked into the ruin of some extinct Amazonian tribe’s temple, to the granddaddy of all them all, Drax’ secret space station, Adams took every penny afforded him and ran with it. (Score: 10/10)

Memorable Villian—I may get some flack here. As I recall, many critics were lukewarm on Michael Lonsdale’s take on Drax, which goes light on the histrionics compared to some Bond villains. What can I say? Lonsdale’s a personal favorite character actor (check him out in The Day of the Jackal or Munich or The Remains of the Day), so naturally I’m going to give him plenty of slack. (Score: 7/10)

Bon Mots/Gratuitous Innuendo—While naming the female lead Dr. Holly Goodhead doesn’t quite reach the heights of, let’s say, Goldfinger’s Pussy Galore, Moonraker still has plenty going for it in terms of adolescent snickers…

• Bond (to Dr. Goodhead): “Bollinger? If it’s ’69 you were expecting me.”
• Flight attendant (as Bond slides his hand up her thigh): “Any higher, Mr Bond, my ears will pop.”
• Drax (watching Bond fire at a pheasant and miss): “You missed, Mr. Bond.” Bond (after the sniper he just shot falls from a tree): “Did I?”
• Drax (to Bond): “Mr. Bond, you defy all my attempts to plan an amusing death for you. You’re hardly a sportsman, so why did you break off the encounter with my pet python?: Bond (to Drax): “I discovered she had a crush on me.”
• Minister of Defense (to Q): “My God, what’s Bond doing?” Q (noting the video image of Bond and Goodhead floating naked in the space shuttle): “I think he’s attempting re-entry, sir.” (Score: 10/10)

Musical Score—After the atrociousness of Marvin Hamlisch’s 70s disco symphonic garbage for The Spy Who Loved Me (although he deserves credit for the very fine theme song), thankfully we’re back in the very capable hands of John Barry, a composer who isn’t going to be swayed by the musical zeitgeist. Personally, I think his lushly romantic score is the best of the franchise. And though the theme song makes little sense, as sung by Shirley Bassey and orchestrated by Barry, it’s a corker. (Score: 10/10)

Intangibles—As mentioned, first in theater, first in mind. Then there’s the fact that it shamelessly piggybacked on the late-70’s Star Wars craze, catnip for any male aged 5-15. Also, the space shuttle program was just gearing up in the US and, again, what young man wasn’t smitten by space travel, even the stuff anchored in reality? Finally, for those with sharp ears, Moonraker pays a terrific homage to Close Encounters of the Third Kind when Bond uses a keypad whilst attempting to infiltrate Drax’ secret nerve gas lab. What more can one ask for! (Score: 10/10)

So there it is. Undoubtably one of the Bond series’ best despite what all those old fogeys said back in the day. Grab a bottle of chilled Bollinger ’69 and have yourself some mindless fun. You’ve earned it.