Casino Royale (1967) (part 4 of 13)

Wow, a Mega Recap! I feel like I’ve just been initiated into a cult! I keep waiting for Sydney Pollack to show up and tell me it was all just a big Tupperware party.

We crossfade into Sir James’ bedroom, later the same night. He’s sitting up in bed reading, and like always, he’s dressed for the occasion, with pristine white socks, a knee-length white nightshirt, and the cutest little white silk nightcap, complete with a tassel [!]. Of course, he has his other nightcap—the whiskey he looted from the dinner table—with him as well. What’s interesting about this ensemble is that the nightshirt has a pleated front, like a tuxedo shirt. Poor James Bond. Even when he’s not wearing the tux, it’s like he still has to have a bit of it with him as a security blanket.

To read the rest of this article, support the Agony Booth on Patreon.
This post is available to our patrons who pledge $5 or more per month on Patreon. Click the “Unlock with Patreon” button below to sign up with Patreon or to log in with your existing Patreon account.
Already a qualifying Patreon member? Refresh to access this content.

Mark "Scooter" Wilson

Mark is a history guy, a graphics guy, a guy for whom wryly cynical assessments of popular culture are the scallion cream cheese on the toasted everything bagel of life. He spends his time teaching modern history at Brooklyn College, pondering the ancient Romans at the CUNY Graduate Center, and conjuring maps and illustrations for ungrateful bankers at various Manhattan monoliths. Readers are welcome to guess at reasons why he's nicknamed Scooter, with the proviso that all such submissions are guaranteed to be rather more interesting than the truth. Mark lives in the Midwood section of Brooklyn with a happy-go-lucky, flop-eared dog named Chiyo who is probably, at this very moment, waiting patiently for her walkies.

Multi-Part Article: Casino Royale (1967)

You may also like...