When Dr. No, the first of the James Bond films, premiered in 1962, I wonder if anyone at the time thought they would be as successful as they became.  A marker of this is the fact that nearly every year between it and the release of The Man with the Golden Gun (1974), one could expect another Bond movie.  Then there was nothing for three years.  This one is explainable.  The easiest factor to blame is that The Man with the Golden Gun did not do as well at the box office as its predecessors, outside of On Her Majesty’s Service (1969).  There were also some legal battles that had to be overcome.  For example, during the opening credits of the first nine iterations, you saw Albert R. Broccoli and Harry Saltzman listed as producers.  Today’s review of The Spy Who Loved Me (1977), only features Harry Saltzman.  I suspect the changes that went on behind the scenes are somewhat responsible for the more serious tone of this, the tenth in the series.  This is not to suggest that this one is without its silliness, featuring its share Wile E. Coyote moments.  Still, I have to give it a little credit for not making laugh as uproariously as the last one.

You would not know it from a title like The Spy Who Loved Me, but the main focus of the plot is submarines.  In the cold waters of the North Atlantic, a British vessel of that type suddenly disappears.  News of this spreads quickly to the British Admiralty (what they call the high command for their navy because they fancy), and the news is, to say the least, alarming.  Thus, the government demands their best man for the job.  Meanwhile, the same thing happens with a submarine belonging to the Soviet Union, prompting a similar response.  For the British, it is James Bond (Roger Moore) of military intelligence, section six (MI6).  The Soviets have Triple X (Barbara Bach), also known as Major Anya Amasova, a KGB operative who is their best.  You can guess by what this movie is called about the nature of the relationship between her and James.  If not, then the fact that they are both seen for the first time in bed with a member of the opposite sex should say about all you need to know.  The man that Major Amasova is with is called away to Austria. He shows up there in time to be killed by James as he makes his way back to London after being recalled from his current mission.  Upon getting back to England, he is ordered to Cairo, which is where plans for a submarine tracking system are being put up for sale on the black market.  They had once been the property of reclusive Swedish businessman Karl Stromberg (Curt Jürgens).  So committed is this man that he has a massive, and private, underwater abode he calls Atlantis that can also surface.  It looks like a giant, alien octopus.  He is sending out his henchmen, like the hulking, iron-toothed thug named Jaws (Richard Kiel), to retrieve the microfilm containing the documents.  With most concerned parties converging on the North African country, it does not take long for James and Major Amasova to encounter one another, and they know about each other by reputation.  At first, it is a competition to see who will acquire their goal first, but it is Jaws who gets a hold of it initially.  James and Major Amasova end up in the back of Jaws’ vehicle in pursuit of the microfilm.  They barely survive their encounter with Jaws, but James is the one who gets away with the device.  However, Major Amasova uses her cunning to take it back.  Despite this, they both make it to a secret location where their bosses command them to work together on the next phase of the operation.  From examining the microfilm, they determine that it is the Swedish shipping magnate behind the disappearance of the submarines.  Since he has a base of operations in Sardinia, it is to the large island off the coast of Italy that they travel, masquerading as husband-and-wife marine biologists.  Karl briefly entertains them before sending them away, ordering Jaws once more to kill them.  Karl also orders in a number of other would-be assassins, but they are all unable to bring down the spy tandem.  Actually, the only thing that puts a kink in James and Major Amasova’s maneuvers is when she figures out that it was James that had killed her lover.  With this knowledge, she vows to put a bullet in him when their mission is over.  Either way, their trip did produce one bit of useful information, and that is the large tanker they suspect is connected to the loss of the submarines.  Thus, they hitch a ride on an American underwater ship to hunt down its larger above water adversary.  Unfortunately, the American boat suffers the same fate, and they are captured.  Karl takes Major Amasova to Atlantis, leaving James a prisoner with the rest of the submariners.  Karl then sends two of the submarines out to launch nuclear missiles at New York and Moscow, wanting to destroy the world because he does not like modern civilization, or at least the surface variety.  That is the best I could tell from what is said.  In yet another unsurprising move, James and the rest break free and manage to program the rogue submarines to fire on one another.  James next makes it to Atlantis, fatally shoots Karl, rescues a now grateful Major Amasova, and gets off the massive sea base before it sinks due to being struck by missiles.  The last scene is of them being found on their oddly well-appointed escape pod in the throes of love making.

Now that I am ten movies into the Bond series with The Spy Who Loved Me, I know that I am beginning to sound like a broken record with what I talk about in relation to these films.  It is to be expected, to be sure, since they all focus on one character and his never-ending quest to save the world from . . . people.  Nonetheless, it is those “people” who interest me with the Catholic portion of this review.  As Bond villains go, there is nothing particularly special about Karl.  He is par for the course in his megalomania.  What sets him apart somewhat is his articulation of how he wants to reshape society.  I would talk about the why, too, but that is a little hazy.  Whatever it is about the world today, he does not like it and wants to nuke it out of existence.  It is the mechanics behind his plot that are of interest.  He notes the privilege of his wealth, which, oddly enough, is a Christian virtue to do.  There is nothing un-Christian about having a healthy bank account.  Where it becomes less virtuous is in what he does with it, i.e., trying to take over the globe.  He also speaks of his Atlantisas being all he needs of the world.  This is a sentiment with Christian roots, too, though obviously with the caveat of having his deadly purpose behind it.  Catholic religious men and women have been retreating behind the walls of monasteries for years, storing up their treasure through prayer and other practices.  Ironically enough, Karl sees his actions as being for the benefit of all mankind, as would a monk or nun.  It is a silly comparison, though, because members of religious orders do not wish for death to humanity.  When God wills that, then it will come.  Until then, we should continue behaving not as Karl believes humans do.

The Spy Who Loved Me was decent, if not spectacularly so.  Like the ones that came before it, I cannot give it a full endorsement because of James’ behavior towards women, and how they are depicted in general.  As alluded to in the introduction, what makes this one stand out if only a little is the toned-down silliness.  Take this for what you will.