I
really love “Skyfall,” despite seeing it for what it is, I love
it anyway. (SPOILER ALERT!)
Many people might question the relevance of deconstructing a Bond film. “It’s a Bond film, it’s only entertainment,” one of my students said. Okay; Sam Mendes is a Cambridge Master of English. He clearly understands what he is doing; therefore, it is justifiable to unpack his work and give it context. How many other “entertainment,” films could close Whitehall for a shoot? This is propaganda.
After a stint as a distinctly Americanised action hero, Bond is back, flirting with high-camp, and clearly engaging in the tradition of what Brand Britain does best - namely waging war on the Great British public. Oh yes, It’s all here, the symbols and signs that signify a sense of, “former glory.” The Turner painting? The Tennyson poem? Received pronunciation spoken throughout? Really?
I suppose that’s true. On a recent trip home, I couldn't help but notice that Hackney is now crammed full of people who dress like pre-industrial pikeys, but talk like Penelope Keith.
This is a clear attempt to reclaim a sense of British identity from the guilt of its post-colonial heritage; but, how many Scottish people noticed the way that Bond - a Scott - vehemently defends his ‘Englishness?’
"Are you a fan of Bondage Mr Bond?" - Photo Daniel Craig and Javier Bardem - "Skyfall."
Out goes the Hollywood trend of over-product placement; it’s still there of course, but it’s overshadowed by the ‘Brand Britain’ ideological statements. "M's" British bulldog? Yeah, okay Mr Mendes, I hear you.
But What’s this I see? A world run by bullish Matriarchs? - check! Vampy, camp former sex workers? - check! A bitter old queen striving for revenge? - check! FABULOUS! All we need now is a Scottish gamekeeper called, “Phil McKrevice,” and we’ll be in “Carry-on,” territory. No doubt about it, Mende’s new Bond is a wee bit bender friendly and I like it...
Suddenly I get this...
“...I’m so sick of your bad attitude, negative thinking and misbehave. Seems like no one good enough for you. It’s over.”
What the fuck?
Hold the Bond! Okay - fair enough - I get it. You're telling me to fuck off. Wow.
I’m not bitching about this. I admire the directness. It is what it is, and it’s part of life’s rich tapestry. Shame you couldn't have mentioned we had a problem before interupting my afternoon with Bond.
I’ll never really know the context of this text; not because I’m a self-absorbed bell-end, but because it's very much a Thai cultural thing. It’s the concept of, “saving face.” Instead of acknowledging a problem, it’s considered polite to smile, and avoid all confrontation, if at all possible. After not getting any response to my replies, from phone, Facebook or e-mail, I contact a mutual friend:
- “Hey, have you spoken to Mr X recently?”
- “Yes... Have...”
- “Does he have a problem with me?”
- “No... No... He not have problem with you...”
- “Are you sure? He seems pissed off.”
- “No. His phone not working, he not get your messages.”
OooOooOooooookay...
* TRANSLATION *
“He thinks you’re a prick - Get over it.”
I know I have a phone from the 90's, (still rocking the Nokia Grandad - and it's not even ironic) but, this is bollocks, I figured out that much and I don't even work for MI6.
Okay, personal relationships are really subjective, there are justifiable reasons why Mr X feels like this, but I’m not a mind reader. Unlike James Bond, I didn't fly half way around the world just to fuck everyone off. I thought we were friends?
This can be really frustrating and disorientating. My neighbour, for instance, who I speak to everyday and have done for over a year; wrote a letter to my landlord, telling him how disgusted she was because I practised my ukulelee for an hour every evening after work. At first I was mortified, my versions of cult classics have been known to bring down the house in London, but then it just became ridiculous. Instead of talking to her, I had to negotiate a convenient time to rehearse, via my landlord, over the phone, over the course of a week. I apologised to her, and she denied all knowledge of the letter. It was obviously a "mistake," that my landlord had made. To me this is batshit crazy; to her, this is polite.
It's more difficult than you think, reassessing your cultural bonds, it hits you everyday, but I wouldn't change it for the world, it's part of the experience. Many people make successful relationships despite these cultural differences, I'll be interviewing them for this blog soon.
Back to Bond... He never experiences the unglamorous side of travel.
The Thais love Bond, what would he do in this situation? Well, let’s see... Ah... Shag everyone or shoot them, yeah... I might pass on that...
My Chinese friends from Hong Kong and Malaysia joke that British people are always too sentimental; so, how does Mendes see Asia? Well, I shall be going to work in China soon. I’m sure as I arrive, it will be a cinematic spectacle of epic proportions. There will be a flurry of sumptuous Mahjong fabrics as Komodo monitors taste the air beneath my feet. I’ll stride confidently to the bar, aware of the admiring glances fluttering like paper lanterns in the breeze. I'll see a man by the bar, he'll know my fears and see through my charade, then he’ll turn to me and say...
“...I’m so sick of your bad attitude, negative thinking and misbehave. Seems like no one good enough for you. It’s over.”
Yes indeed, the reality will probably be a concoction of epic blunders, and arse-kicking culture shocks, but that’s what you pay your money for.
For the finale, the sun rises on union jacks over a fictional London; and I feel a million miles away, trapped in the loneliest day of my life. I am sentimental. I remember a Saturday afternoon, caged in by the rain, my friends and I watched, “The Spy who loved me.” We laughed and there were crumpets. What are these bonds that bind us? Suddenly I am comforted.
Sam Mendes is on to something here, we should celebrate our bonds; however, I'm not sure that wiping out the entire legacy of the 20th century is a good thing. It's almost like he's thrown out the baby and kept the bath water. I like the NHS. I like the concept of social housing, and free education. Most of all I like the fact that we can talk about our problems in Britain, and we can confront the things that upset us. Perhaps we should take pride in our sentimental side. We make mistakes, this is inevitable; however, it is our imperfections that make us what we are. From an ex-pats perspective, I love "Skyfall's" fantasy Britain, and I'm quite pleased that it doesn't really exist. Here is my saving face:
“Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”
Tennyson.
Many people might question the relevance of deconstructing a Bond film. “It’s a Bond film, it’s only entertainment,” one of my students said. Okay; Sam Mendes is a Cambridge Master of English. He clearly understands what he is doing; therefore, it is justifiable to unpack his work and give it context. How many other “entertainment,” films could close Whitehall for a shoot? This is propaganda.
After a stint as a distinctly Americanised action hero, Bond is back, flirting with high-camp, and clearly engaging in the tradition of what Brand Britain does best - namely waging war on the Great British public. Oh yes, It’s all here, the symbols and signs that signify a sense of, “former glory.” The Turner painting? The Tennyson poem? Received pronunciation spoken throughout? Really?
I suppose that’s true. On a recent trip home, I couldn't help but notice that Hackney is now crammed full of people who dress like pre-industrial pikeys, but talk like Penelope Keith.
This is a clear attempt to reclaim a sense of British identity from the guilt of its post-colonial heritage; but, how many Scottish people noticed the way that Bond - a Scott - vehemently defends his ‘Englishness?’
"Are you a fan of Bondage Mr Bond?" - Photo Daniel Craig and Javier Bardem - "Skyfall."
Out goes the Hollywood trend of over-product placement; it’s still there of course, but it’s overshadowed by the ‘Brand Britain’ ideological statements. "M's" British bulldog? Yeah, okay Mr Mendes, I hear you.
But What’s this I see? A world run by bullish Matriarchs? - check! Vampy, camp former sex workers? - check! A bitter old queen striving for revenge? - check! FABULOUS! All we need now is a Scottish gamekeeper called, “Phil McKrevice,” and we’ll be in “Carry-on,” territory. No doubt about it, Mende’s new Bond is a wee bit bender friendly and I like it...
Suddenly I get this...
“...I’m so sick of your bad attitude, negative thinking and misbehave. Seems like no one good enough for you. It’s over.”
What the fuck?
Hold the Bond! Okay - fair enough - I get it. You're telling me to fuck off. Wow.
I’m not bitching about this. I admire the directness. It is what it is, and it’s part of life’s rich tapestry. Shame you couldn't have mentioned we had a problem before interupting my afternoon with Bond.
I’ll never really know the context of this text; not because I’m a self-absorbed bell-end, but because it's very much a Thai cultural thing. It’s the concept of, “saving face.” Instead of acknowledging a problem, it’s considered polite to smile, and avoid all confrontation, if at all possible. After not getting any response to my replies, from phone, Facebook or e-mail, I contact a mutual friend:
- “Hey, have you spoken to Mr X recently?”
- “Yes... Have...”
- “Does he have a problem with me?”
- “No... No... He not have problem with you...”
- “Are you sure? He seems pissed off.”
- “No. His phone not working, he not get your messages.”
OooOooOooooookay...
* TRANSLATION *
“He thinks you’re a prick - Get over it.”
I know I have a phone from the 90's, (still rocking the Nokia Grandad - and it's not even ironic) but, this is bollocks, I figured out that much and I don't even work for MI6.
Okay, personal relationships are really subjective, there are justifiable reasons why Mr X feels like this, but I’m not a mind reader. Unlike James Bond, I didn't fly half way around the world just to fuck everyone off. I thought we were friends?
This can be really frustrating and disorientating. My neighbour, for instance, who I speak to everyday and have done for over a year; wrote a letter to my landlord, telling him how disgusted she was because I practised my ukulelee for an hour every evening after work. At first I was mortified, my versions of cult classics have been known to bring down the house in London, but then it just became ridiculous. Instead of talking to her, I had to negotiate a convenient time to rehearse, via my landlord, over the phone, over the course of a week. I apologised to her, and she denied all knowledge of the letter. It was obviously a "mistake," that my landlord had made. To me this is batshit crazy; to her, this is polite.
It's more difficult than you think, reassessing your cultural bonds, it hits you everyday, but I wouldn't change it for the world, it's part of the experience. Many people make successful relationships despite these cultural differences, I'll be interviewing them for this blog soon.
Back to Bond... He never experiences the unglamorous side of travel.
The Thais love Bond, what would he do in this situation? Well, let’s see... Ah... Shag everyone or shoot them, yeah... I might pass on that...
My Chinese friends from Hong Kong and Malaysia joke that British people are always too sentimental; so, how does Mendes see Asia? Well, I shall be going to work in China soon. I’m sure as I arrive, it will be a cinematic spectacle of epic proportions. There will be a flurry of sumptuous Mahjong fabrics as Komodo monitors taste the air beneath my feet. I’ll stride confidently to the bar, aware of the admiring glances fluttering like paper lanterns in the breeze. I'll see a man by the bar, he'll know my fears and see through my charade, then he’ll turn to me and say...
“...I’m so sick of your bad attitude, negative thinking and misbehave. Seems like no one good enough for you. It’s over.”
Yes indeed, the reality will probably be a concoction of epic blunders, and arse-kicking culture shocks, but that’s what you pay your money for.
For the finale, the sun rises on union jacks over a fictional London; and I feel a million miles away, trapped in the loneliest day of my life. I am sentimental. I remember a Saturday afternoon, caged in by the rain, my friends and I watched, “The Spy who loved me.” We laughed and there were crumpets. What are these bonds that bind us? Suddenly I am comforted.
Sam Mendes is on to something here, we should celebrate our bonds; however, I'm not sure that wiping out the entire legacy of the 20th century is a good thing. It's almost like he's thrown out the baby and kept the bath water. I like the NHS. I like the concept of social housing, and free education. Most of all I like the fact that we can talk about our problems in Britain, and we can confront the things that upset us. Perhaps we should take pride in our sentimental side. We make mistakes, this is inevitable; however, it is our imperfections that make us what we are. From an ex-pats perspective, I love "Skyfall's" fantasy Britain, and I'm quite pleased that it doesn't really exist. Here is my saving face:
“Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”
Tennyson.
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