King Kong vs Godzilla (1962)

"Don't blame them if their god eats you both..."

I know it's midweek, but we've eaten and washed up early, so there's time for the next Godzilla film- the first in colour- and this one not only picks right up from where we left off but co-stars the most famous cinematic beast of all: King Kong.

It's an oddly comedic film, with the usual comedy heroic duo out-slapsticked by their absurd boss, but this approach works in a film which was always going to subsist as a piece of low camp at its most loveable. The costumes obviously have men inside, the tanks are obviously models, and it's amusing so see the camera pan slowly around an electrical substation later on, confirming via the grammar of such films that the substation will later be destroyed in exciting fashion.

We begin with parallel plotlines as an expendable American nuclear submarine awakens Godzilla and is quickly destroyed, while our comedy heroes investigate that island from King Kong for reasons which are said to relate to the advertising of pharmaceuticals but make no sense whatsoever.

The island is a pretty good copy of the 1933 original except, of course, that the "natives" are all Japanese extras in blackface. Oh dear. There's also a very silly scene in which the island chief is amused by a transistor radio as our comedy heroes give out free cigarettes to all and sundry, including a little kid. Oh dear.

There are plenty of exciting set pieces, including an inconclusive early battle between the two monsters where Kong is sent running. Kong also gets a pretty girl to snatch out of a rail carriage  and take to the top of a building, as he's contractually obliged to do. Plenty of model tanks again appear and poor old Tokyo, which can't have been rebuilt for very long, is trashed once more.

We end with a suitably epic clash ending up with Kong swimming home, as Godzilla's fate remains uncertain. That was... pretty much exactly as you'd expect, and good fun,

You Only Live Twice (1967)

"Well, at least he died on the job..."

Well, it's quite the contrast. Thunderball was a pile of pants, an incoherently directed film with little in the way of charm or entertainment, whereas You Only Live Twice is superb, and easily the best Bond film so far. What went right? Well, the straightforward direction by Lewis Gilbert helps; Thunderball may be much artier (It has wipes, for Christ's sake! In a James Bond film), but it fails to make the narrative clear. Here we have no such problems. What we do have is a well constructed and paced film courtesy of a script by the great Roald Dahl. Yes, that Roald Dahl.

Even the opening sequence is innovative-the image of a NASA space capsule being eaten by another spacecraft is delicious, as is Bond's apparent death before the titles. And the image of a spacewalking astronaut drifting helplessly through space to what he knows will be his death has all the existential horror of the late David Bowie's "Space Oddity" a couple of years later.  All this before we even get to the theme song from Nancy Sinatra, who gives the great Shirley Bassey a run for her money.

We then move straight to the Americans blaming the Soviets for the swallowing of the spacecraft, with both of them portrayed as squabbling juvenile warmongers, leaving the British (naturally) as the voice of reason. This is a little uncomfortable to watch from a distance of fifty years, however. In the wake of Dean Acheson's famous comment Britain is being portrayed here as a "Greece to America's Rome", which smacks very much as a consolation prize for a wannabe superpower. Even this film, which portrays the clever British as in control and saving the world, can't hide the fact that the Americans and Russians of 1967 are sending people into space and we are not.

The fact that M and Moneypenny are in a submarine is brilliant, as is the recognition of Bond's naval rank. The two superpowers are at loggerheads and world war beckons if all this is not sorted out before the next spacecraft is launched. Fortunately, there's a lead pointing to Japan. Also fortunately, Bond took a First in Oriental Languages at Cambridge.

It's interesting that the film's inevitable misogyny (as ever, women are seen through the eyes of a fifteen year old boy) is somewhat obscured by the presentation of all this in the context of what Japanese culture is supposed to be like. There's also the question of ethnic stereotyping, and while this can't be dodged the film gives a broadly positive image of Japan, perhaps remarkably so less than a generation after the War. We get Sumo wrestling, geishas and, of course, ninjas. The tropes are all here to play.

Is impossible at this point not to mention the cute and willing Aki ("I think I will very much enjoy serving under you") who is killed, while Bond's initially more modest "wife" is not. Hmm. Still, this Japan is cool, and I love Tanaka.

The bit with "Little Nellie" looks suspiciously as if it was just crowbarred into the film to give Desmond Llewelyn something to do, but it isn't long before the Russians launch a rocket of their own (Norse pagans will be either pleased or outraged that the Russian for "three" is "Odin"), which is duly swallowed again. Cue more recriminations and a reminder of the stakes, although it certainly makes me wonder how credible it is that a criminal organisation like SMERSH could have the resources to send a rocket into space capable of doing this. Best to banish such thoughts.

This film is possibly the most influential Bond film in popular culture and certainly for Austin Powers: the volcano base is brilliant, and Donald Pleasance's splendidly hammy performance as the now-revealed Ernst Stavro Blofeld is blatantly the inspiration for Dr. Evil. And the piranhas, and the collapsible ramp above them, are perfect.

This is an incredible film and easily the best so far. I'm genuinely unsure if anything will top it.