There
is something about Ian Fleming's English superspy James Bond that invites
parody. Even before Sean Connery made his debut as Agent 007 in 'Dr No',
there was already the merciless spoof 'Casino Royale'; and from 'Goldfinger'
on, the formula for the Bond franchise had become so fixed (the gadgets,
the cars, the good and bad girl, the villain, the martinis) that each new
instalment in the series began to seem a parody of its predecessors. Of
course there have also been many American parodies, like 'Our Man Flint'
and more recently 'Austin Powers' - and now, with 'Johnny English', Britain
is offering its own belated entry to the already overcrowded market in spy
send-ups.
When all the secret agents for MI7 are assassinated,
bumbling analyst Johnny English (Rowan Atkinson) is called into active
service to prevent the Crown Jewels from being stolen. Aided by his considerably
more competent assistant Bough (Ben Miller), and by the mysterious Lorna
Campbell (Natalie Imbruglia), English stumbles upon the plans of French
entrepreneur Pascal Sauvage (John Malkovich) to usurp the throne and turn
Britain into an island prison - the (apparently unintended) irony being
that this unspeakably wicked scheme is exactly what England did to Australia
two centuries earlier.
Impressively, two of the writers of 'Johnny
English' have also worked on recent Bond scripts - yet the credentials
which their involvement brings to the film should, like the false passports
which Bond so often uses, in no way be trusted. This film is BAD. A series
of spectacularly un-funny, sub-Inspector Clouseau shenanigans leads to
a parade of British anxieties about loss of sovereignty to Johnny Foreigner.
The Queen-worshipping, Europe-hating jingoism on display here, along with
the pooh-jokes, is strictly for children and readers of 'The Sun' only
- although no doubt it will also play well with an American market, where
French-baiting is currently plat du jour. Everyone else, however, is advised
to stay well away.
It's time to set aside any residual affection
one may feel for Rowan Atkinson's past comic glories as Blackadder, or
even as Mr Bean, and to recognise 'Johnny English' as the laugh-free xenophobia
that it is. Double-O Zero.
Anton Bitel
|