GoldenEye
Capsule Film Review #40
This is the fortieth in a series of short pieces (max. 250 words) about films. They appear weekly, in addition to my regular essays.
A man and a woman, perhaps in the process of preparing for some ultimate confrontation on the screen, are readying their weapons.
This man could be anyone, more or less; he could be handsome or ordinary-looking; he certainly will be older than the woman.
She, on the other hand, cannot be anyone: she must be young; she must be attractive; and she must dress in a way that enhances those two qualities.
At one point, during their conversation, the man starts to patronisingly explain to the woman how to use a gun. Impatient with his condescension, she reveals that she already knows: she takes the gun from him, loads it, cocks it. Cue: knowing laugh from the audience.
The film I have chosen here is GoldenEye (1995, d. Martin Campbell), though I can’t even remember, as of now, whether it actually contains this cliché: in fact, I can’t remember if any film does. Perhaps it’s some kind of Mandela effect: perhaps I think I recognise this cliché only because it seems to sum up a certain kind of dumb action film, from Kill Bill to Hanna, from Kick-Ass to Black Widow.
It’s empowering, for sure, to watch all those sexy young women win all those fights—at least, a few of my friends have told me that it is. What would at one time have been merely a man’s fantasy of a woman has now become a man’s fantasy of a woman’s fantasy of a woman. Well, it’s progress.