With Sean Connery having resigned from the role of Bond, the studio settled on Australian model George Lazenby to take over the now iconic role and attempt to fill the shoes left behind by his predecessor. With a first-time director who had impressed with his editing work on the previous movies, determined to keep closer to the source material – itself containing digs at how overblown the ‘cinematic’ Bond had become, the recipe was certainly there for something different, but, wonders Greg D Smith, would it be something good?

It strikes one as a little on the nose to consider that On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (OHMSS) is so singular in so many ways. Star George Lazenby had apparently decided even before shooting was complete that it would be his one and only time playing the superspy (allegedly persuaded by his agent to turn down an initial seven film offer from the studio on the basis that the franchise would die a natural death in the liberated seventies). Director Peter Hunt would never work in the franchise again, having edited previously on the series. Bond would for one time and one time only get married, only to immediately become widowed, and would be vastly overshadowed by his female co-star. Really, when you consider how out of its way it went to be its own thing, it’s a miracle not only that this film got made as part of a studio franchise but also that it didn’t manage to stop that franchise in its tracks.

But I’m rather getting ahead of myself. Faced with the prospect of carrying on the franchise without leading man Connery, the studio picked a man who might look a little like Connery in a dim light at distance (and who confessed himself to have visited Connery’s barber and picked up one of the man’s rejected suits from his tailor before his audition) and then you would have forgiven them for crossing their fingers and hoping nobody much noticed. Except they don’t. Instead, in what has to be one of the odder decisions in what is overall an odd film, they play a montage of clips from the previous five films over the opening titles, having had new star Lazenby break the fourth wall to stare directly down the camera and say ‘This never happened to the other fellow’ at the end of the pre-credits scene. For a studio trying to sell its audience on the idea that the new guy is the guy, they don’t half go about it in an odd manner.

Then, it’s difficult to blame them. Though Lazenby was relatively inexperienced as an actor, he does well enough being his own version of the character (once the opening nonsense is done with and the film allows him to) but the problem is that that version just isn’t quite as compelling. For all the faults of Connery’s version, he is impossible to take your eyes from when he’s on screen. Connery’s version also dabbled with vulnerabilities in the character but it always felt as if the wheels were turning and he was looking for avenues to exploit even when the chips were down. Lazenby’s version, by comparison, feels occasionally weak, as if he’s just overwhelmed by what’s happening around him and unsure of what to do next. That’s not to say this is always the case of course – he works his way out of several tricky spots rather quickly, but when he’s up against it, you always feel as if there’s a chance that he might just not get away with it.

There’s also the matter of how he interacts with his boss, M. Connery’s Bond always enjoyed a slightly fractious but somewhat respectful relationship with his superior, whereas Lazenby just comes across as sullen. The scene in which he dictates a resignation to Moneypenny, only for her to switch it to a request for leave, just feels wrong for the character, steering momentum from him to others, and having him come across as a moody teenager who has to be saved from his own impulses. Of course, it’s great to see Moneypenny to get something more to do other than moon wistfully at James as he wanders in and out of her office, although that’s rather undone by her latter appearance at the end of the movie at Bond’s wedding, where she just cries a lot. Plus ca change indeed.

But perhaps the biggest mistake the film makes is in its choice of leading woman. Diana Rigg, fresh from her turn as Mrs Peel on The Avengers, brings a verve and energy to her part which can’t help but outshine Lazenby in almost every scene they share. Her character enjoys somewhat of an erratic arc – the daughter of a wealthy playboy criminal who starts the movie trying to kill herself and then takes unnecessary risks before suddenly switching into something quite different in the second act. But Rigg does a superb job with what she’s given, and I couldn’t help but feel that the demolition derby scene in particular, with her confidently moving the wheel as though born to stunt driving, showed just how good she was and just how odd it felt to have the movie not focused on her.

Nonetheless, it’s not a terrible movie – certainly an interesting one. It should of course have been filmed earlier (unusually light snowfall in Switzerland bumping You Only Live Twice up in front of it) and this leads to one interesting continuity error of having Blofeld not recognise the man he met face to face in the previous movie. Fleming had written the novel as a mild sort of dig at the cinematic Bonds, with their fanciful gadgets and over the top action, and by following his novel closely the film does feel rather regressive as part of the series. Gone are many of what had become staples – the gadgets, the massive set piece finales, the over the top villainous schemes. Replacing them are much of what we saw in Dr. No and especially From Russia With Love – actual spycraft, disguises, infiltration, an enemy who has a wide-ranging but actually believable and not in the slightest explosive final plan. It feels a little slow and backward-travelling compared to its predecessors in many ways, and though I’d hesitate to call it ‘realistic’ it certainly feels more grounded.

It also rather dispenses with what had rapidly become the ‘Bond Girl Formula’ – one girl for Bond to ravish who gets killed, one villain for him to ravish and dispatch and one to film the final canoodle with. Instead, Rigg’s Tracy is the main flavour throughout, though in weird contrast the middle portion of the film almost parodies its own series’ conventions by having Bond ‘forced’ to sleep with a number of willing young women one after another, each oblivious to the others, and making it a sort of joke as he almost (but not quite) mugs to camera about what a hard life it’s been. This isn’t helped by a particular line of dialogue from villainous henchwoman and sense of humour vacuum Irma Bunt, who inquires whether his ‘stiffness of the night before’ is gone. Ho ho, indeed.

As to main villain Blofeld, Telly Savalas takes up the mantle from Donald Pleasance, minus the facial scar and rarely seen with the trademark white cat. It’s clear that this is a very different take on the character indeed. No assembled rows of minions in darkened rooms with booby traps, and very much a hands-on boss in every respect. Savalas clearly seems to enjoy the character more than his predecessor in the role, though of course he gets far more to do. His exchanges with both Bond and Tracy reflect a man who is dangerous but not unhinged. This Blofeld has purpose, and is not above using threat and violence to get his way but also doesn’t use either as anything but a last resort. His plan, to hold the world to ransom by threatening bacteriological warfare on a scale that would starve the population, feels more like the sort of extortion that the SPECTRE name proclaims, and also more believable as a plan that could be undertaken in secret, as opposed to a giant spaceship-gobbling spaceship and hollow volcano lair. The addition of his quest for the title of Comte de Bleuchamp feels like a nice character note, revealing the vanity that could prove his weak spot. It’s certainly the best villain character the series has produced to this point – there’s no overblown monologuing, and no sense of the ridiculous in his not immediately killing Bond upon discovering him. Again, this is a man capable of violence, rather than one driven by it.

Plot-wise, it’s a little messy only because it tries to fuse too many competing ideas. Bond’s pursuit of Tracy is oddly disjointed – he starts the movie chasing her after all, then when her father attempts to bribe him into marrying her he suddenly goes off the idea before agreeing to pursue her after all in exchange for information, before falling in love with her anyway. The subplot of Bond’s obsession with tracking down Blofeld, having been taken off the case for failing to nobble him, acts as a driver for certain actions but never really feels like it gets the space it needs, for one reason and another, to breathe. Blofeld’s own plot feels fine except for the complication of the ‘Angels of Death’ who feel like they’ve been selected more so that Bond has a lot of young ladies to suddenly bed at the mid-point of the movie, lest we think he’s lost his mojo or something, and the end sequence wherein Bond comes in with the criminal cavalry to destroy Blofeld’s base and rescue Tracy feels a little rushed and dances on the edge of the very sort of big finish, thirteen year old boy’s-dream sequence of the very films the rest of the movie seems intent on repudiating.

In terms of presentation, it’s choppy in its editing, especially noticeable in its action scenes. Hunt was picked to direct precisely because Broccoli and Saltzman had appreciated this quality in his editing on previous movies in the series, but here it goes to a whole new level, contriving to make it look – rightly or wrongly – as if the editing is trying to hide something in various action scenes, particularly one-on-one fights involving Bond. The camera shifts so often that it gets almost dizzying, and in terms of fast cut style it would give most modern blockbusters a run for their money. That said, it is a rather picturesque movie in the frames where it manages to calm this impulse. Some stunning shots of the Alpine landscape really emphasise Hunt’s desire to go for ‘simple, but glamourous, like the 1950s films I grew up with’ and his quest for realism meant many shots like the aforementioned driving sequence in the demolition derby, being mostly done by the actors themselves because of the closeups required.

Musically, it’s once again a throwback, lacking a lyric-driven theme opening theme in favour of its own instrumental number, but echoing the secondary theme song of the movie – We Have All the Time in the World – in various musical signatures and flourishes throughout its run time.

Ultimately, with its star never really seeming like he’s inhabiting the role so much as doing his best impression of it, and being outshone by his co-star, and stripped of the trappings which had become a hallmark of the series by this juncture, it feels mostly confused. Its surprisingly redeeming feature is its darkest moment, opting to swap out the usual Bond movie denouement of the agent falling into the arms of a sultry lady as the theme song plays for an altogether different scene as the newly married Mr & Mrs Bond are victims of a drive-by shooting by Blofeld and Bunt. Bond’s final monologue, as he cradles the lifeless Tracy in his arms and weeps that it’s all OK because she’s just resting and they have all the time in the world, feels genuinely affecting and is easily the single best piece of acting Lazenby manages in the entire movie. Legend has it that the director had him exhaustively rehearsing and re-rehearsing the scene from early in the morning until it was shot in the evening, and every ounce of that exhaustion and pain come across on the screen. It’s a bold way to end an entry in such a generally light-hearted franchise, but it certainly sticks with the viewer long after the credits have finished.

So as I said to begin with, a singular entry indeed. Lazenby isn’t as terrible as some (my wife included) may claim, but he’s also never really the Bond we know, even as the film tries to nudge and wink and tell us he is. The movie itself makes some bold decisions, but it can’t help but feel like it’s rather trying to put toothpaste back in the tube by taking the series back to its roots of more grounded, gritty spy action, and then it does rather try to have its cake and eat it with Bond impersonating a larger than life English scholar as he infiltrates the enemy base. We may have all the time in the world, but ultimately it’s probably for the best that this Bond only lived once.