Young and Connery are onto something here, who knows how long will it last(!), for now it is a sight to behold.
Young gives this everlasting legacy, the perfect introduction it required, a bit briskly and awful lot of raunchy. This mixture of genre that was present in Ian Fleming’s book, is amped up to a cinematic level with a vocab so common and physically connective to the audience that it does reach to places where your usual projection doesn’t. And since the inception of this franchise, ergo, this chapter, it didn’t practically see the global phenomenon that it will spiral out in later years. And what has been fascinating about the franchise is how connected it is to the art behind the project that despite of getting an attention as such, the commercial aspect of this infamous character doesn’t affect the quality of its vocab.
The storyline, even to this day, is kept above all the box office numbers, and is probably why this is one of those rare banners that holds up with time. Terence Young, the director, isn’t bringing anything new on the table, but his skills on jumping from one sequence to another with a linear track, following only its lead character is a bold risk that pays off well in here. Usually, such a narration can be off putting or felt overridden, but with Sean Connery’s perspective that we, as an audience, share, the risks are communicated and the thrills feared.
Speaking of whom, Connery started the dialogue deliveries to be delivered with a panache that mostly comes from his body language than his drunken yet firm voice. There is a smoothness on the punches he punches and physical acts shot in one shot, these little moments are much more valuable than the tricks, he keeps pulling out of his awe-gasping gadgets. With only one weak link of antagonist called Dr. No- primarily because he has very little skin in the game- Connery is the best asset of London’s Secret Service.