Bond Girls:

Gender, Technology and Film

by

Michelle Adams

Culture, Communication & Technology Program Georgetown University

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The twentieth century has witnessed the development of one of the most widely

enjoyed, profitable and entertaining modes of communication and technological

innovation in America: film. Utilized both as an artistic medium and a money-making

enterprise, the Hollywood system has provided the American public with countless reels

of action, tragedy, drama and comedy since its incorporation into popular culture in the

early twentieth century. Through “formula” Hollywood film, the zeitgeist and ideologies

of all facets of American life have been documented for the masses; they have both

influenced and been influenced by our cultural conceptualizations of contemporary life.

In the current digital age, film has increasingly portrayed technological advancement in

our lives as normative, developing story lines that range from the fantasist computer-

controlled world of The Matrix to online romance in You’ve Got Mail.

However, these depictions do not stand alone; in society and its film

representations, technology and the culture by which it is utilized are bound together,

acting and reacting to one another. These bonds have combined to transform gender. In

this paper, I will examine the relationships between technology and gender relations in

one of the most widely recognized and popular film collections of modern film studies:

James Bond Movies, focusing most closely on the films made in the 1990s post-internet

culture: Goldeneye, Tomorrow Never Dies, The World Is Not Enough, and Die Another

Day, all starring Pierce Brosnan.

Actresses, most famously including Ursula Andress as Honey Ryder, Honor

Blackman as Pussy Galore, and Maud Adams as Octopussy, who co-starred with early

actors playing James Bond, were christened “Bond Girls” by promotional advertisers; the

phrase has since become part of the vocabulary of popular culture in America. Their

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roles as Bond’s love interests, partners, or enemies have all been characterized by their

submission to his charismatic persona and masterful manner, which in and of itself has

become an institution of popular culture: phrases such as “Bond. James Bond” and

“Shaken, not stirred” have become familiar to moviegoers and non-moviegoers alike.

However, women in Bond movies do not all simply wait to be rescued by the handsome

spy; often, they provide worthy adversaries or partners for Bond, skillful in the arts of

espionage and subterfuge themselves.

The art of espionage and spy culture is deeply rooted in Cold War America,

hence its incarnation in these action-adventure films. However, as competing

technologies become a greater facet of global communications, interaction and warfare,

technology in many forms has played a greater part in films dealing with these issues.

Bond, as a British Agent, is increasingly involved in preventing schemes involving world

domination achieved through the auspices of technology.

In this context, Bond’s relationships with his various female co-stars, his

relationships with his male and female nemeses, and the manner in which both of these

types of interactions relate to technology and the power which its ownership can bestow

are extremely enlightening as to the gender ideologies that exist in contemporary society.

Espionage, technological domination, and gender interact to reveal the matrices of

domination that exist between men and women, men and men, and women and women.

Competition and opposition between Bond and his rivals to achieve ownership or

dominion of technology and of each other reveal more than a struggle of good and evil;

rather, these connect gender roles and relations to the technological innovations of post

digital-divide Western civilization.

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In this sense, the films also expose our notions of masculinity and femininity in a

post-feminist, post-Xena, post-Buffy1 world. “Bond Girls” fight as well as the next

Warrior Princess or Slayer and can also program software or manipulate networks to rival

Bill Gates. However, their relationships to Bond reveal deep-seated conventions

involving romance and sexual interaction between men and women that add complexity

to cultural fantasies and realities of modern man and woman in film and in society; the

films appeal, in short, “because they have a dream-like quality, dealing in symbols and

wish fulfillment and not at all in plausibility…they define…the dreams and paranoia of a

particular moment in history,” according to Philip Hensher’s “The Painful Truth About

Our Love Affair With Bond” (2 and 3). The characters that populate Bond’s cinematic

paradise of fast cars, hard liquor, high stakes, powerful weaponry, handsome spies and

beautiful women reflect the attitudes and ideologies, as well as the wishes and dreams, of

the public that they entertain in the theaters.

British journalist Shawn Levy traces 007’s roots in his article, “Oh James….” The

character of James Bond originated with novelist Ian Fleming. Casino Royale, published

in England in 1953, was the first of 14 novels and short story collections concerning the

adventures of the British secret agent (2). In 1961, American producers

Harry Saltzman and Albert “Cubby” Broccoli approached United Artists Films to secure

financing for a series of films featuring Bond. As a result, Dr. No, starring then-unknown

Scottish actor Sean Connery as 007, was released first to in London on October 5, 1962

and then to America in New York on May 29, 1963, according to John Cork and Bruce

Scivally in their article, “Reeling Through the Years” (1-2). Followed shortly by From

Russia With Love in 1963, then Goldfinger (1964) Thunderball (1965) and You Only 1 Xena: Warrior Princess and Buffy The Vampire Slayer,

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Live Twice (1967), all starring Connery, the James Bond franchise became one of the

fastest and highest grossing film phenomena of the decade, in both the U.S. and Great

Britain (Cork and Scivally, 2).

Following Connery’s incarnation as 007 (although he returned briefly in 1971 for

Diamonds Are Forever), George Lazenby took over for one film (1969’s On Her

Majesty’s Secret Service) and was immediately replaced by Roger Moore, who starred as

Bond for most of the 1970’s and early 80’s in seven films (Live and Let Die, The Man

With The Golden Gun, The Spy Who Loved Me, Moonraker, For Your Eyes Only,

Octopussy, and A View To A Kill). In 1987, Timothy Dalton became Bond in The

Living Daylights and 1989’s License To Kill (The James Bond Films, http://movie-

reviews.colossus.net/bond.html).

From 1962 onward, Bond films appeared on average every two years; however,

following Dalton’s characterization, there was a gap of six years while Bond’s image was

reworked for the 1990s post-internet digital culture as well as for the post Cold War

political climate in Britain and the U.S. On June 8, 1994, Pierce Brosnan was chosen to

take over the role of 007 and appeared for the first time in 1995’s Goldeneye. Bond’s

new incarnation premiered, following a major media publicity campaign, at Radio City

Music Hall on November 13th to the largest box office sales for a Bond film since 1967

(Cork and Scivally, 4).

James Bond’s image has remained consistent throughout the franchise’s 40-year

film history; “[h]e never ages, he never gets seriously injured, he never stops boozing or

chasing skirt, he never settles for anything less than the best cars, clothes,

accommodation and weapons, and he never takes time off from saving the world from

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disaster to muddle through the mundane quotidiana that plague us all;” he is the

quintessential suave, dry wit and capable secret agent (Levy, 1). However,

characterization has varied from actor to actor, from decade to decade, according to

social and political climates and values.

Film representation often reflects the temporal, geographical, and ideological

context of its production. The early films featuring Connery as 007 displayed

characteristics of both political and gendered ideologies of the time. At the time that Dr.

No was released, the escalation of the Cold War rendered Bond “not only an action hero,

but a reminder of the sort of world the good guys—the British and Americans and their

respective espionage and military services—were fighting for, a place where one dressed,

drank, drove and screwed only the finest” (Levy, 4). He is devoted to Queen and

country, a warrior in their service to make the world safe for capitalism and its

accoutrements. Stephanie Zacharek, in her article “The Spies Who Thrilled Me,” writes

that “[h]e’s always surrounded by lavish appointments…You never see Bond…spending

money—only wearing it, eating and drinking it. The soul of Bond is laid out right in

front of us in the choices he’s made: in the cut of a suit, in the gleam of a cigarette case.

The 60s Bond movies are largely about things” (3). Thus the materialism inherent to this

perspective is displayed by the hero; the films are produced by capitalist societies in

sharp opposition to the fear of Communist incursion, displaying the best available to the

Western consumer in an almost overt political statement.

The films of this era also use technology to make statements regarding Bond’s

superiority to his enemies. Regardless of how impressively high-tech the devices of the

enemy are, Bond’s gadgets, cars and guns always prevail, even over insurmountable

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obstacles, due to Yankee (or Brit) ingenuity. Clearly, one British secret agent with a

watch (complete with hidden laser beam) on his wrist and no other weapon is more

powerful than any number of Soviet missiles, lasers, or hit men. The films demonstrate

through these devices that even if the technology of the hero is not as advanced as that of

the enemy, the values of capitalist Western civilization render the hero more able to use

what IS available technologically to him to better advantage in order to triumph. In this

sense, they reflect the armaments race between the Soviet bloc and the West in the Cold

War, rendering the West victorious in the cinema if not clearly in reality.

As well as making economic and political statements, the Bond franchise,

particularly the early films, makes overt statements as to socially and culturally engrained

ideologies pertaining to gendered behavior and gendered relationships. As per his

relations with women, David Morefield suggests that the image of Bond remains the

same: he “is a comparatively uncomplicated creature, slipping easily from one

relationship to another with no messy emotions, and no regrets when it’s over”; a sex

symbol rather than a romantic hero (2). However, Morefield characterizes Connery’s

Bond as “unencumbered by notions of romance or obligation; he was simply a sensualist

with the good fortune to run into gorgeous women equally interested in sex for its own

sake…pragmatic and hard-hearted about sex…ruthless ”(2). This depiction holds true

not only in the individual films but in the franchise as a whole. No female character,

other than Moneypenny, the devoted MI6 secretary with a crush on Bond, appears in

more than one film up until the Brosnan period, when M (Commander in Chief of MI6,

the British Secret Service) was reincarnated as a woman played by Judi Dench.

Conversely characters such as Desmond Llwellyn as Q, the MI6 gadgetry master, and

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Bond himself reappeared consistently. Bond girls are a series of one-film stands, even

when they last longer than one-night scenes.

Bond women in this era, such as Ursula Andress as Honey Ryder in Dr. No and

Honor Blackman as Pussy Galore in Goldfinger, fall victim to either Bond’s charm or his

ruthlessness. This happens regardless of their independence, availability, or which side

they are working on. Honey Ryder’s role has been characterized as “that bikini coming

out of the water” by the newest Bond girl Halle Berry (Jinx, Die Another Day) in AMC’s

documentary special, “Bond Girls Are Forever,” hosted by ex-Bond girl Kara d’Abo

(Kara Milovy, The Living Daylights). Berry’s statement clearly delineates the objectivity

of the actress’s role as a sexual target for Bond, evident not only from the storyline,

which involves her helplessness and need for Bond to rescue her both physically and

emotionally but also by the cinematography of the “bikini scene.” The camera is

positioned at a slightly lower than head on position, rendering the emergence of the

actress out of the sea more dramatic and framing her figure in the center of an almost

empty mise-en-scene, while her face is averted in a clearly objective manner. She is

being watched without her knowledge: the female is subjected to the male gaze by both

Bond and the audience. The scanty costume is, of course, another factor in the viewer’s

understanding of her status as sex object, her body clearly revealed.

Pussy Galore is perhaps the most obvious example of Bond’s omnipotence with

women. As a confirmed lesbian and self-proclaimed “damn good pilot,” she is

independent and allegedly, by sexual preference and by assertion, immune to Bond’s

charm. As Elizabeth Ladenson’s article “Lovely Lesbians; Or, Pussy Galore” states, “it

is her sexual indifference that has attracted Bond in the first place” (4). However, Bond’s

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masculinity is so powerful that it overcomes her strength as a woman and a lover of

women, and in a scene in a hay-filled barn, she ceases to resist. “The very phallic

[masculinized by her lesbianism] Pussy succumbs to the even more phallic James Bond”

(Landenson, 4). At the end of the film, Bond is asked why she altered her sexual

preference, and responds “I appealed to her maternal instinct.” “The…lesbian…always

comes down to an image of the desirable and punitive mother, and she is always

conquered, whether by a well-aimed chair or by the sheer irresistibility of the hero”

(Landenson, 4). Bond’s “irresistibility” being a hallmark of his persona, and the sexual

politics of the era lacking recognition of gay and lesbianism, it is not surprising that the

character is first rendered masculine and empowered both physically and mentally by her

lesbian status. Jeanette Winterson refers to her in “Girls, Girls, Girls” as an “airborne

dominatrix” and “grrl-gang leader,” and she in fact defeats Bond himself at judo and is

then subjugated by Bond’s superior, “real” masculinity to helpless femininity (2).

His masculinity is unquestioned and dominant just as the femininity of Connery’s

Bond girls is absolute and submissive; they are objects of desire to be used to complete

his mission successfully; however, he is the subject of the film. In this sense, the gender

roles and stereotyping of pre-feminist movement American and British society are

confirmed by the films of the era. “Bond girls are for lovemaking. That is their first

function”(Winterson, 3).

Roger Moore’s Bond of the 1970s takes his portrayal one step further and is

described as a “sex machine” with “an impressive list of one night stands,” in keeping

with the sexual revolution and the ideals of potent masculinity of the era in film (i.e.

Shaft) (Morefield, 2). His economic politics remain consistent, even more so as the films

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become more decadent in terms of special effects technology, but it is Moore’s Bond who

is truly the basis of feminist criticism for being “a world class misogynist—the poster boy

for male chauvinist pigs” (Morefield, 1). His relationships with women in these films are

not only non-romantic but often bordering on abusive. In Live and Let Die he deceives

Jane Seymore’s Solitaire in order to steal her virginity and pulls a gun on Gloria

Hendry’s Rosie Carver immediately after a sexual encounter, stating that “I certainly

wouldn’t have killed you before!” Bond girls in these instances are not only objectified

but almost victimized by the hero. His caveat is that “all women fall for Bond,” even

those he mistreats, with primitive subservience to his dominant male persona and

“masculine sexual allure” (Winterson, 3 and Zacharek, 3).

He is unmistakably their possessor, subjugating them in a sometimes subversive,

sometimes completely overt manner. But he always provokes their attention and

affection regardless. The female characters respond to his abuse or patronage by

becoming “so compliant you can almost see their skin melting underneath his fingers,”

with the result that their characterizations become those of “helpless damsels and

irritating airheads.” By today’s post-feminist gender politics, they epitomize the anti-

feminist sex kitten role, oppressed and complacent in that oppression, valued only for

physical attributes and usefulness to the male figures who control them (Zacharek, 2 and

Morefield, 3).

The later Moore films and the Timothy Dalton Bonds portray the hero as more

sensitive and charming, the women as more empowered and intelligent, and their

relationships more equal, as later 1970’s post-feminist mentalities and sensibilities

rendered the misogynist Bond character incompatible with the zeitgeist. The first real

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Bond girls to take on the role of partner and equal to Bond came in this era as Barbara

Bach’s Major Anya Amasova in The Spy Who Loved Me (1977) gained Bond’s respect

as a Soviet agent working with him. Even the film’s title reinforced the romantic and

non-exploitative relationship. As Christopher John Farley’s article “Live Another Day”

in the November 11, 2002 issue of Time Magazine states, in 1985, Grace Jones as May

Day in A View To A Kill opposed 007, and the film’s publicity campaign asked the

public “Has James Bond finally met his match?” bearing startling similarity to the

campaign for Die Another Day. The November 29, 2002 cover of Entertainment Weekly

contains a photo of Brosnan and Berry with the headline “Bond Meets His Match” (2).

In the 1990’s, Timothy Dalton appeared as Bond in The Living Daylights and

License to Kill. The latter was released in 1989, “coinciding with the fall of the Soviet

Union and marking what would have been a nice historical coincidence: the conclusion

of the Cold War bringing an end to the career of the last secret agent still fighting it”

(Cork and Scivally, 6). However, following the film’s relative failure at the box office,

United Artists recreated the character of 007 in a more contemporary mold, casting Pierce

Brosnan in the main role, in order to recapture the success of Bond’s earlier incarnations.

Massive promotional advertising followed the decision, along with promises to the public

of a “more modern” Bond. The character was reinvented to coincide with the post-Cold

War deglamorization of espionage, as well as the decline of social acceptance of sexism

(a true post-feminist action hero), and the rise of technology. The battles of good versus

evil which he would face, as well as the methods and strategies by which he would

emerge victorious, would now be in keeping with the post-Internet, post-digital boom

culture in place in the mid-1990’s. Goldeneye was released in 1995, to major box office

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success: 350.7 million dollars worldwide and 24.45 million in audiences, as opposed to

License To Kill’s 156.2 million draw and only 8.7 million attendees (The James Bond

Films, http://movie-reviews.colossus.net/bond.html).

This modern interpretation of Bond’s adventures extends into both the bedroom

and the boardroom as well. While gender politics in post-feminist Western society

updated the roles of Bond girls, they have not changed very much outwardly, nor has the

formula of Bond’s seduction of them been altered. They are still beautiful, sexy,

physically idealized representations of womanhood, and they still fall for Bond’s charm.

However, they no longer fit the sex-kitten stereotype of the Sean Connery or Roger

Moore films:

“Bond women take on more importance than ever. Computer whiz Natalya, super-agent Wai Lin, and nuclear weapons expert Dr. Christmas Jones each contribute significantly to the success of Brosnan’s Bond missions. Natalya cuts through Bond’s ‘cold hearted’ act to touch the vulnerable man underneath, Paris Carver gets him to actually confess to love and regret, and Elektra turns his compassionate side against him” (Morefield, 3).

Both the women and Bond’s reactions to them have changed; in some cases, they know

more than him, and in some cases he cares more about them than before. Though they

still need to be rescued by him (in both Tomorrow Never Dies and Die Another Day,

Bond administers a “kiss of life”2), and though all eventually fall into his arms, they are

not helpless. They surprise Bond with their ingenuity and lack of ready availability at

times. For instance, Wai Lin’s tagline is “Don’t get any ideas, Mr. Bond.” They are also

more assured of their sexual power over men than ever before, demonstrating a

confidence equal to Bond’s own. Sophia Marceau’s Elektra King in The World Is Not

Enough makes various statements to this effect, including “I used my body—it gave me 2 To a drowning Wai Lin (Michelle Yeoh) in Tomorrow Never Dies, and to Jinx (Halle Berry) in Die Another Day

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control” and “I’ve always had a power over men.” As the film’s villainess, her survival

depends on her attractiveness to Bond to prevent his shooting her (“James, you can’t kill

me—not a woman you have loved”). Jinx also references her own “short

relationships”—one night stands that rival Bond’s own.

Even his relationship with Moneypenny, once a “sad spinster” with a crush on

007, has been altered; with Samantha Bond in the role, she is now “an attractive, sexy

powerbroker who fancies Bond, without needing him,” making comments such as “I

know just what to do with that” when he presents her a cigar as a gift in The World Is Not

Enough, before throwing it in the wastebasket (Winterson, 3). Judi Dench’s M calls

Bond “a sexist, misogynist dinosaur, a relic of the Cold War, whose boyish charms are

wasted on me” in Goldeneye and coldly dismisses him as “of no use to anyone anymore”

in Die Another Day. Both these women treat Bond with affectionate contempt for his

playboy antics combined with authority, modern versions of a secretary and a female

boss.

These Bond girls are objects of desire, but he is no longer the only subject of the

films. In the past, the mantle of being a Bond girl was a stigma in Hollywood that

rendered an actress typecast in sex kitten roles. In AMC’s “Bond Girls Are Forever,”

Luciana Paluzzi (Fione Volpe in Thunderball) admits that “the noted Italian directors of

the day—Fellini, Antonini, Visconti—wouldn’t give [her] a second look after [she]

appeared in what they viewed as a ‘comic strip.’” However, with the incursion of Judi

Dench and Halle Berry into the franchise, both Academy Award winning, “serious”

actresses, even the career trajectory of Bond girl actresses has been altered.

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In tribute to this, Bond demonstrates an unprecedented degree of emotion for

them, admitting to Paris that she “got too close for comfort” in Tomorrow Never Dies

and showing his hurt anger at Rosamund Pike as Miranda Frost in Die Another Day and

Elektra King’s betrayals, rather than maintaining his cool, as previous Bonds have done.

His greater sensitivity and status as a romantic hero are products of post-feminist culture

but do not compromise his role as a ruthless secret agent; Bond still uses his license to

kill, even women when he must (i.e. Elektra King), and is still primarily an action hero