This 1967 British import, trying to be hip and trendy for all intents and purposes, was created as an elaborate spoof on the James Bond phenomenon. For the most part, it's a plotless, convoluted mess that lost a kazillion dollars at the box office. If "Laugh-In's" Rowan & Martin were given an unlimited budget and told to throw together a bunch of weird sketches that had nothing to do with each other, add some music, and given nothing but the words "offbeat" and "James Bond", I think it would come off looking something like this.
Producer Charles Feldman had the rights to Ian Fleming's spy novel "Casino Royale" (Albert Broccoli had obtained the rights to all the others in the series). Movielore has it that Broccoli wouldn't lend out Sean Connery to do "Casino Royale," so Feldman decided instead to rewrite the script as a silly, all-out parody. Well, after a circus line-up of no less than five directors (including John Huston), three scripters (not including ghostwriters Woody Allen, Peter Sellers, Billy Wilder, Terry Southern and Ben Hecht(!)), an enormously eclectic cast, and swarms of unbilled star cameos, this is the elephant they hatched.
David Niven (who, by the way, was Fleming's "personal" choice to play "007" in the popular film series) plays an aging Sir James Bond who reluctantly comes out of retirement to do battle with his old nemesis, the syndicate SMERSH (they should have called it CHAOS), after international spies are being knocked off left and right. That's about all I could make of it. The rest is a blur. The story, and I use that VERY loosely, sorta gets in the way after awhile. The sum of its parts are definitely better than the whole.
"Casino Royale" is, most importantly, a feast for the eyes. The treat is in its superb visuals and art design, with eye-popping, hallucinogenic effects that were state-of-the-art at the time. The shockingly vibrant, Peter Max-inspired sets and Twiggy-cut costumes add immeasurably to the film's kitsch factor. The enormously catchy title tune included in the opening/closing credits, and Bacharach's original music throughout are also a plus factor. You can't ignore the expense, resources, and mind-blowing imagination that went into this wild roller-coaster ride.
Favorite parts: Joanna Pettet's lush, exotic dance as Mata Bond (I dare you to guess who her famous parents are); Orson Welles' feats of magic at the baccarat table; Peter Sellers and the scintillating Ursula Andrews cavorting slow-motion to Dusty Springfield's smoky version of "The Look of Love"; Woody Allen's unveiling as Dr. Noah; Sellers' drugged-induced, psychedelic nightmare sequence, and, of course, all the expected ka-booms and gadget-filled chase sequences betwixt and between.
Cast-wise, "Casino Royale" is a humdinger. You've got David Niven, Peter Sellers, Deborah Kerr and Orson Welles to give it ersatz class; you've got William Holden, Jean-Paul Belmondo, George Raft and Peter O'Toole in gag cameos to give it a "hip" happening kind of thing; and you've got the afore-mentioned Andress and Bouchet, in addition to Daliah Lavi, Barbara Bouchet (as Moneypenny), and the ever-tasty Jackie Bisset (as Miss Goodthighs) as mini-skirted Bondian eye candy.
As for the rambling, uninspired, highly explosive wrap-up: well, let's just say the insanity includes the cavalry, fighting seals, the CIA, go-go dancing Indians, a hiccuping Woody Allen, and more James Bonds running around than you can shake a stick with, and leave it at that. It makes about as much sense as the rest of it. It's too farcical even to be considered a farce!
So, don't try to make heads or tails of it; you'll give yourself a headache. Just relax and enjoy a phantasmagorical experience if ever there was one. It really kinda grows on you after a few attempts.
Producer Charles Feldman had the rights to Ian Fleming's spy novel "Casino Royale" (Albert Broccoli had obtained the rights to all the others in the series). Movielore has it that Broccoli wouldn't lend out Sean Connery to do "Casino Royale," so Feldman decided instead to rewrite the script as a silly, all-out parody. Well, after a circus line-up of no less than five directors (including John Huston), three scripters (not including ghostwriters Woody Allen, Peter Sellers, Billy Wilder, Terry Southern and Ben Hecht(!)), an enormously eclectic cast, and swarms of unbilled star cameos, this is the elephant they hatched.
David Niven (who, by the way, was Fleming's "personal" choice to play "007" in the popular film series) plays an aging Sir James Bond who reluctantly comes out of retirement to do battle with his old nemesis, the syndicate SMERSH (they should have called it CHAOS), after international spies are being knocked off left and right. That's about all I could make of it. The rest is a blur. The story, and I use that VERY loosely, sorta gets in the way after awhile. The sum of its parts are definitely better than the whole.
"Casino Royale" is, most importantly, a feast for the eyes. The treat is in its superb visuals and art design, with eye-popping, hallucinogenic effects that were state-of-the-art at the time. The shockingly vibrant, Peter Max-inspired sets and Twiggy-cut costumes add immeasurably to the film's kitsch factor. The enormously catchy title tune included in the opening/closing credits, and Bacharach's original music throughout are also a plus factor. You can't ignore the expense, resources, and mind-blowing imagination that went into this wild roller-coaster ride.
Favorite parts: Joanna Pettet's lush, exotic dance as Mata Bond (I dare you to guess who her famous parents are); Orson Welles' feats of magic at the baccarat table; Peter Sellers and the scintillating Ursula Andrews cavorting slow-motion to Dusty Springfield's smoky version of "The Look of Love"; Woody Allen's unveiling as Dr. Noah; Sellers' drugged-induced, psychedelic nightmare sequence, and, of course, all the expected ka-booms and gadget-filled chase sequences betwixt and between.
Cast-wise, "Casino Royale" is a humdinger. You've got David Niven, Peter Sellers, Deborah Kerr and Orson Welles to give it ersatz class; you've got William Holden, Jean-Paul Belmondo, George Raft and Peter O'Toole in gag cameos to give it a "hip" happening kind of thing; and you've got the afore-mentioned Andress and Bouchet, in addition to Daliah Lavi, Barbara Bouchet (as Moneypenny), and the ever-tasty Jackie Bisset (as Miss Goodthighs) as mini-skirted Bondian eye candy.
As for the rambling, uninspired, highly explosive wrap-up: well, let's just say the insanity includes the cavalry, fighting seals, the CIA, go-go dancing Indians, a hiccuping Woody Allen, and more James Bonds running around than you can shake a stick with, and leave it at that. It makes about as much sense as the rest of it. It's too farcical even to be considered a farce!
So, don't try to make heads or tails of it; you'll give yourself a headache. Just relax and enjoy a phantasmagorical experience if ever there was one. It really kinda grows on you after a few attempts.