007 - Dr. No

Sean Connery's portrayal of James Bond stays interesting thanks to his relationship with violence. He willingly places himself in dangerous situations as if to test, or maybe even flaunt, his ability to turn the tables then do serious harm. There's a kind of daredevil savagery to the portrayal, helped along by the physical agitation Peter Hunt invests into his helter-skelter editing. Whilst in London, director Terence Young shoots Bond in open, airy, rooms. They're beautifully dressed but obviously sets. You get a sense of the parlour games to come, with Bond as the know-it-all detective breezing through soured social situations to right a series of wrongs. This assumption dies once Bond lands in Jamaica. 

Met by a nervous chauffeur, Bond immediately gets on the phone to radio in with his superiors. No car has been sent by the British embassy. Young holds on Bond's face - dark eyes fixed on his anxious quarry, a smile creeping up the corner of his mouth. An opportunity for violence has immediately revealed itself. Bond's reason for being in the Caribbean is initially contextualised as a waste of time - a radio operator in a colonial holding is missing calls because he's, quite probably, ran off with his secretary. On site, Connery's bolt upright Bond stands out as he prowls around the island's tanned officials. 007 is bigger and louder than these slouches, he's a muscled predator determined to take up as much physical space as possible. Bond's enemies start out as local lads with pistols before graduating all the way up to a mad scientist with metal hands. None register as particularly taxing for the lethal secret agent. Dr. No then is about the joy of overwhelming force, Bond as the house brick sent to smash an insect.