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Some magic missing from
latest 007 adventure
FOR SPECIAL SERVICES. By
John Gardner. Cape and Hodder
and Sloughton. 254pp. $14.95.
Reviewer:
HOPE HEWITT
Old sleuths never die; they
only get ghosted. And usually by
John Gardner, who has brought
first Holmes back to life and now
James Bond.
Thanks to his ingenuity, 007
shoots again, under commission
from the Ian Fleming copyright
holders. His first reappearance,
'Liccnce Renewed', was a bestseller.
This one may not do quite as well,
but it will make a first-rate film.
Bond is now established in his
1980s image, drinking less, smoking
low-tar cigarettes, driving an energy
conscious Saab Turbo 900 instead
of the gas-guzzling Continental. For
tunately the spccial tricks depart
ment of M5 has not changed at all,
and when 007 takes on his latest
exploit he has a fine range of lethal
devices concealed around his person
and his property.
He needs them all, for this time
he is on loan to the US Government,
because out Mid-West, a subversive
private empire is operating, run, it
is suspected, by Bond's old enemy,
SPECTRE, No. 1. Yet No. 1 had
been killed, by Bond in Operation
Thunderbali, and when 007 shoots,
he shoots to kill.
Has No. I done a Moriarty on
007? This is one of several mysteries
to be cleared up in the action-packed
assignment ahead.
Needless to say there arc some
fascinating females around: one Ce
dar, daughter of Bond's old friend
Felix Leiter. a real chip off the old
block and Bond's fellow-agent on
this mission. The other is the
enigmatic wife of the apparent
owner of the Mid-West set-up. She
is among other things an art expert,
which is bad luck, as Bond pene
trates the closely-guardcd estate un
der cover of a fine art dealer, carry
ing with him a hitherto-unknown set
of Hogarth prints, which Bismaguer
wants to buy.
SPECTRE'S resources still in
clude some well-trained carnivorous
creatures, which it uses to dispose of
its enemies. In earlier encounters
there were sharks and piranha fish;
here there are some well-drilled
Harvester Ants and a python. Film
wise both have real possibilities, but
somehow the account lacks the
master's touch. Not quite gruesome
enough and without that hint of
send-up, of taking the micky out of
his own fantasies, which Fleming
manages so well.
The girls too lack the ultimate
touch of chic in their wardrobe,
expensive and designed by the right
houses though it is. Their wit and
007's exit lines fall just short of the
throw-away double-cntcndre which
Roger Moore delivered so smoothly.
The ghost is just too careful to
reproduce the correct elements, too
rcspcctful to Bond lore. But he is
excellent when - I suspect - he is
on his own ground, in the motor-race,
which is as exciting to read as it will
be filmed.
This story is readable enough,
though only a shadow of the old
Bond; but it is fine movie script stuff,
and stunt men and spccial effects
will have a field day.
$