From Nuart With Love

While waiting for “The Avengers” to hit the big screen in August, with all of its ‘60s retro spy rush, you can have a week of the real thing with the “Kiss Kiss Bang Bang!” film series starting Friday at the Nuart.

Who wouldn’t want to relive early Bond and beyond in these politically correct times when masculinity has been challenged? Why, these men not only had a license to kill but also a license to behave badly, taking the Rat Pack credo to extreme. Cool was a state of mind as well as a government-sanctioned lifestyle--the ultimate male fantasy of girls, guns and gadgets. No harm, no foul and no end to hedonism. Pop Art at its most rebellious and libidinous--far more than the sum of “Austin Powers” parts.

It all started with James Bond, of course (though the real inspiration was “North by Northwest”). The blend of Sean Connery’s charisma and the shaken, not stirred stimulation sustained a franchise while spawning a steady flow of kitschy imitators. But how do you imitate something that’s already kitsch? That was the secret of the early Bonds: 007 was both a serious insider and a self-mocking outsider.

The two best Bonds, “From Russia With Love” (1963) and “Goldfinger” (1964), screening Saturday, are an unbeatable combination. The former introduced picaresque plotting as well as more sadistic villainy; the latter overcharged the elements so successfully that the series reached its creative peak with Connery.

And yet he’s very different in each of them. In “From Russia With Love,” Connery’s cruel charms and seductive confidence are so refined that he’s way ahead of the action. In “Goldfinger,” however, the action’s way ahead of him. He’s turned into a reactive agent because the villains are so powerful. But he outwits them with his feline ingenuity, providing entirely new viewing pleasures.

While many lamented the star’s absence from “On Her Majesty’s Secret Service” (1969), screening Sunday, it remains the cult favorite of the series. And why not? It’s the most personal, most exciting, most daring and most compelling of the Bonds. Watching newcomer George Lazenby struggle his way through it all with verve and vulnerability gives it a human dimension that distinguishes it from the rest. There’s something very special about the whole film: from the score to the skiing to the sadness.

And the presence of Diana Rigg as the first and last Mrs. Bond doesn’t hurt. Her feminist zeal (recalling her Mrs. Peel from “The Avengers”) is a steady force. Even Telly Savalas’ archvillain, Blofeld, works against type, with his obsessive class envy. (For another pairing of Rigg and Savalas that same year, check out “The Assassination Bureau,” also screening Sunday. It’s an amusing spoof of feminism, corporate greed and the morality of murder, with a very dapper Oliver Reed inadvertently causing World War I.)

The fourth Bond in this series is none other than the wildly outrageous “Casino Royale” (1967), screening next Thursday, which has more in common with the Bond spoofs than the Bonds themselves. David Niven, Peter Sellers, Orson Welles, Ursula Andress (the first Bond female from “Dr. No”) and Woody Allen try to make the best of it in this psychedelic farce that’s about as anarchic as you can get. It pretty well summed up the ‘60s, with only the main theme by Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass surviving intact. Fans are still waiting for a serious filming of Ian Fleming’s first Bond novel, and rumors abound like red herrings.

As for the American spoofs, none was more successful than Dean Martin’s Matt Helm series. The first and best, “The Silencers” (1966), screens Friday, with “Austin Powers.” Given the resurgence of Rat Pack fever, Martin is as hot as ever. The funny thing is, his middle-aged, laid-back cool is a lot hipper now than it was back then, when he suffered in comparison to his younger and fresher competition. Now his intoxicated indifference is seen as a role model for the ‘90s. “The Silencers” was never very amusing, but there’s a familiar chemistry between Martin and Stella Stevens. She’s like a cloying, annoying, buffoonish Jerry Lewis. And that backward shooting gun is still the funniest gag in the film.

The “Man From U.N.C.L.E.” took cool to an even greater extreme on TV with the efficiency of Robert Vaughn and David McCallum. “One Spy Too Many” (1966), screening Monday, is a two-part episode refashioned as a feature, and it’s about one hour too long. Though tedious, it provides a glimpse of what made the series so popular: the agents’ ability to outwit their arrogant opponents (in this case, Rip Torn) because of their very coolness. Vaughn and McCallum seemed to pride themselves on being underestimated.

It’s the opposite for Rod Taylor in “The Liquidator” (1966), also screening Monday. He’s lucky and he knows it, but there’s no convincing superior Trevor Howard, who recruits him to dispose of enemy agents when the English government’s about to collapse from security leaks. Taylor is no spy, but he’s not about to give up the swinging lifestyle that goes with it, so he hires a real liquidator to do his killing for him. Now that’s really laid-back.

If there was anyone who matched Connery’s charisma, it was Marcello Mastrioianni. In addition to his usual charms, though, he conveys a nervous existential angst in “The Tenth Victim” (1965), screening Wednesday, an Italian import that introduces a little sci-fi into the mix. In the not too distant future, murder has become a popular sport, enticing corporate sponsorship and TV coverage. But Mastrioianni finds himself in the new role of victim, as Andress aggressively stalks him to win the grand prize money.

The situation makes for some interesting role reversals. But in the end, it’s the same old story: commitment. Underneath his jaded indifference lies a smug sentimentalist who illegally hides his parents, collects classic comic books and wants to settle down.

Underneath her feminist facade lies an old-fashioned woman who’d rather collect a husband than a corpse. So much for the liberating ‘60s.

BE THERE

“Kiss Kiss Bang Bang!” festival, Friday through June 25 at the Nuart Theatre, 11272 Santa Monica Blvd., West Los Angeles, (310) 478-6379.