On Her Majesty’s Secret Service

Bond is back again and Lazenby plays him. Join me as I investigate the one and only appearance of George Lazenby in the role and try to figure out what the hell is going on. I mock the nonsensical missions-that-aren't-missions, gadgets-that-aren't-gadgets, and Blofeld's plan-that-isn't-a-plan that amounts to hypno-zombie debutantes with poison spray bottles. I analyze Blofeld's weird philanthropic tendencies, Tracy's unexplained suicidal tendencies, and her father's henchmen's random homicidal tendencies. And I analyze Bond's cozy relationship with the self-confessed second-biggest crime lord in Europe. I obsessively identify the various cars. I try to imagine a less likely man to pretend to be a homosexual in a skirt and frilly blouse. I try to identify the moment Bond genuinely falls in love. And I try to identify the moment Bond realizes that his sex addiction has allowed a known international terror-extortionist to successfully launch his plan.