Kael is one of the greatest American film critics, along with James Agee, Andrew Sarris, and Manny Farber. And out of the latter three she was definitely the biggest James Bond fan, though she rarely wrote at length on the series. A site used to host all of her capsule reviews, but it disappeared after geocities closed down. Some reviews are still floating around the web however. Here's her take on DAF:
Diamonds Are Forever starts with a full head of steam, and one expects a luxuriant, mock-sadistic good time. But a few minutes later Sean Connery, as Bond, and a villain are in a tiny elevator, lunging at each other and pounding at each other with excruciatingly amplified blows; the sequence goes on and on, and the movie loses its insolent cool. The Bond pictures depend on the comic pørnography of brutality; the violence has to be witty. When people are just slugging each other, as in any movie fight, the point of the picture is blunted. This movie never recovers for long. The script (by Richard Maibaum and Tom Mankiewicz) involves diamond smuggling and old Blofeld; it's a wilted affair with deep-in-the-closet bitch-fag villains. The one new character with possibilities, a billionaire Las Vegas recluse modelled on Howard Hughes, is dimly written, and played--shall we say rustically?--by Jimmy Dean. (He acts as if someone had just suggested to him that he turn actor but hadn't told him how.) The picture isn't bad; it's merely tired, and it's often noisy when it means to be exciting. Guy Hamilton directs more or less adequately, but he isn't precise enough for nonchalance--for the right, perfectly careless throwaway-joke tone. Hamilton doesn't parody urbanity and flippancy, because he's still struggling to achieve them. The Ken Adam sets just sit there, and the film doesn't have anything like those flamboyant sequences in the snow--the ski chase and the bobsled run--that were quite literally dazzling in On Her Majesty's Secret Service. What's missing may be linked to the absence of Peter Hunt, who worked on the action sequences of all the earlier Bonds, and who directed the last one; perhaps it was he who gave the series its distinctive quality of aestheticized thrills. The daring seemed beautiful in the earlier films--precariously glorified. This time, even when a sequence works (that is, both daring and funny) such as the car chase, and the battle between Connery and the black and white Amazons, it lacks elegance and visual opulence; it looks like sequnces of the same kind in Bond imitations. No doubt those of us who love the Bond pictures are spoiled, but really we've come to expect more than a comic car chase.
Customers may, however, be happy enough with what they get. Diamonds Are Forever has opened just at the moment when people long for the familiar, stable, unalienated hero with a capacity for enjoyment; the timing could not be better for Sean Connery to come back as Bond. He no longer wears the waxy deadpan of a sex-fantasy stud dummy; over the years he has turned the robot-matinee-idol Bond into a man--himself. The foppery and gadgetry have diminished, and the sexual conquests, too. Almost imperceptively, Bond has lost his upper-class snobbery along with the toiletries; it's as if that snotty, enigmatic Bond disgusted Connery. His instinct was right: it's better this way, because Connery's mock-heroic presence incarnates the appeal of the series without need of the commodity accoutrements of a modern pasha--without need even of a harem. Bond doesn't seem a phony anymore.
Obviously many Bond fans would disagree with her view of Connery's performance, but the role of a good critic is not to enforce orthodox opinions; instead they use their individual judgment to make observations that might challenge or encourage us to re-examine our own opinions. It seems very silly that so many people automatically decry a critic who's voiced an opinion contrary to their own, when part of the pleasure of reading criticism is engaging a dialectic with someone else's opinion.
That said, each critic has their own predilections and specific tastes. Kael once wrote that "with the glorious exceptions of Brando and Olivier, there's no screen actor I'd rather watch than Sean Connery. His vitality may make him the most richly masculine of all English-speaking actors." She praised his performance in YOLT, explaining that "Sean Connery's James Bond isn't the sleek, greasy-lipped dummy of the earlier films; playing the super-hero as a paunchy, rather bemused spectator, Connery gives him more character than he's ever had before. This casual, human Bond is rather tender in his sex relationships--one might almost call them love relationships this time."
By contrast she found Lazenby "quite a dull fellow" and wasn't impressed with OHMSS's script, but called Hunt "a wizard at action sequences, particularly an ethereal ski chase that you know is a classic while you're goggling at it, and a mean, fast bob-sled chase that is shot and edited like nothing I've ever seen before." She wasn't particularly keen on Roger Moore first two pictures but gave TSWLM a rave. She considered both MR and FYEO let-downs but liked
Octopussy somewhat:
This is probably the most casual of the JAMES BOND series, and in some ways it's more like the Bob Hope and Bing Crosby Road comedies than it is like the Bonds...And among the disguises that BOND-Roger Moore-uses are a gorilla suit and an alligator outfit that doubles as a boat...It's not the latest-model Cadillac; it's a beat-out old Cadillac, kept running with junkyard parts. But it rattles along agreeably, even though the director, John Glen, seems to lose track of the story, and neither he nor the writers (George MacDonald Fraser, with Richard Maibaum and Michael G. Wilson) appear to have thought out the women's roles...As Octopussy, the beautiful amazon Maud Adams is disappointingly warm and maternal--she's rather mooshy. (At one moment, she's a leader, and the next moment she's a dupe who doesn't know what's going on around her.)
Like everyone else she disliked AVTAK. She didn't review the Dalton films (they were released during times when she was away from The New Yorker) but I suspect, based on her personality, that she wasn't crazy about them, since her own favorite seems to have been YOLT.
Edited by Revelator, 25 November 2009 - 10:31 PM.