Not shaken or stirred: My Bond deflowering

Courtney Hazlett The Scoop

My name is Courtney Hazlett and I’m a virgin — a James Bond virgin.

Does that sound melodramatic to you? It did to me, when I was still keeping such personal intel close to the cuff, for emergency uses like impromptu games of “I never” or as an excuse for missing a related pop culture reference. But as it turns out, I might as well not own a television or consider myself American, so shocking this news is to most people.

Let me lay it out for you: The names Roger Moore and Timothy Dalton mean very little to me. Say the name Sean Connery and I'm more likely to think Indiana Jones, “The Hunt for Red October,” and a guy who says “yesh” instead of “yes” (an affectation I'm told I sometimes adopt when I'm really, really tired). As for Daniel Craig — the current 007 — I do identify him as the guy who plays Bond (and as one of my boss’ favorite, um, actors) but his appeal, physical or otherwise, was still never enough to get me to sit still for any of the 21 James Bond films in existence.

And why, with a full DVR, a pile of books, magazines and mail I’ve been meaning to read, not to mention some semblance of a life to attend to, should I make the time for a blind date with Bond? I took an informal poll among my male friends and was shocked by how limited their vocabulary became when I asked for a compelling reason to do so.

“Well, he’s just, he’s ... he’s the man,” was the answer that tumbled from the lips of several normally articulate friends. One of the few who expressed some level of verbal acuity on the subject (though this might be attributed to the fact our exchange was via e-mail) was my friend and screenwriter John Ridley, who put it to me this way: “Bond is the original ass-kicking, womanizing, killing machine. The Terminator, but not from the future, wears a tux and has a Brit accent instead of an Austrian one.” OK, now we’re getting somewhere.

And Ridley hits on another common theme, that Bond treated his ladies like dirt, which is apparently supposed to be part of his appeal, too. “Most men are secretly boorish killing machines, or at least secretly want to be a boorish and get away with killing a few dozen people with cool gadgets,” said one friend (who wisely requested I not use his name). “That’s why we like him.”

Slideshow   Bond through the ages From Sean Connery to Daniel Craig, see the many faces of 007 and vote for your favorite one. more photos

And so, armed with this info I nestled into my desk chair at 30 Rock and popped “Goldfinger” into my computer. “Goldfinger” was selected by msnbc.com readers as the best pick for my Bond first-time. Before you lay into me for not attempting to view it in a more organic way, much as I love my new couch and high-def TV, I felt it more important to be surrounded by people who might be able to field my questions, should they arise. And they did.

I’ll spare you the blow-by-blow of my experience and present the strongest of my impressions.

A. If you like ‘Mad Men,’ you'll like ‘Goldfinger’
Like the AMC series, stylistically, this Bond business is slick stuff. I’d wear the clothes and I’d like my gentlemen friends to do the same (save for that abnormally short terry-cloth bathrobe Bond sports early on). Beyond that, it’s set in the same era as “Mad Men,” so if you can’t take the misogyny, get out of the kitchen.

The scene that caused my initial pause: Bond, fed up with the tomfoolery and double-crossing of Jill Masterton, palms her face as if passing a well-worn basketball during a casual game of street ball. Horrified by how naturally this came to Bond/Sean Connery, I reacted inappropriately — by laughing nearly to the point of tears. And that’s where msnbc.com’s former Tabloid Tidbits scribe and current Technotica columnist, Helen Popkin, who was within earshot, chimed in (while laughing), “You know, it takes someone who’s never seen (a Bond film) before to say, ‘that’s really unacceptable,’ and realize just how bad that behavior is.” A compelling argument for how we’ve become de-sensitized (and a case study in inappropriate laughter).

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