Is it possible to make a more inaccurate film adaptation of a novel than the James Bond 007 atrocities? True, the films have a few merits in the form of good music and fetching lasses, but let’s be honest: the screenplays were obviously written by someone whose familiarity with the source material extended no further than skimming the first half of someone else’s notes. They highlighted a character’s name here and a place name there, mixed a few references from other novels, and dashed out some action scenes and one-liners. Presto! Here’s another big budget bastardization for consumption by the gullible masses.
I just watched Diamonds Are Forever (1971) for the first time in years, this time with the perspective of one who has read the novel. Don’t worry about having the novel spoiled if you have already seen the film — there’s nothing to spoil because the two bear only the most superficial resemblance to one another, especially with regard to their endings.
What kind of mind is capable of believing that these screenplays are in any way an improvement over Ian Fleming’s already rather cinematic style of writing? The moronic kind, evidently.