The pre-title ski jump in The Spy Who Loved Me lasts about fifteen seconds, but the Union Jack parachute that opens at its end tells you everything about Lewis Gilbert's 1977 film: it is a Bond entry that knows exactly what it is, commits to it completely, and executes it with a craft and a confidence that makes the commitment feel earned rather than merely brazen.
At a Glance
Director: Lewis Gilbert
Runtime: 125 minutes
Starring: Roger Moore, Barbara Bach, Curd Jurgens, Richard Kiel, Caroline Munro
Release: 1977
Critics Rating: ★★★★★ (5/5 stars, Moore at his peak, the formula at full power)
Audience Rating: ★★★★★ (5/5 stars, spectacular and absorbing)
Plot
Bond and Soviet agent Anya Amasova are forced to cooperate to investigate the theft of British and Soviet submarine tracking systems, uncovering a megalomaniacal shipping magnate's plan to destroy civilisation and rebuild it beneath the sea. The Cold War cooperation premise gives the film a thematic coherence the more conventionally adversarial franchise entries rarely matched, and the structure moves with a clarity of purpose that makes the 125-minute runtime feel precisely calibrated. The Lotus Esprit submarine car is the film's most inventive gadget, a piece of production design that earns its implausibility by being deployed at exactly the right moment.
Characters
Moore is at the height of his franchise performance here, a portrayal of wit and physical authority that gives the character a confidence and charm the more restrained earlier Moore entries were still finding. Barbara Bach's Anya Amasova is the franchise's most professionally capable Bond woman to that point, a Soviet agent whose obligation to kill Bond for the death of her lover gives the film one of its most compelling tensions and whose competence is never subordinated to the romantic plot. Richard Kiel's Jaws is one of the franchise's most iconic supporting creations, a figure of physical menace and unexpected comic presence whose survival at the film's conclusion was dramatically inevitable. Curd Jurgens' Stromberg is a villain of menace and visual distinctiveness whose underwater lair gives the antagonist dynamic its most ambitious physical expression to that point in the series.
Meaning / Themes
The film's central concern is the possibility of cooperation between ideological opponents, between Bond and Anya's professional opposition and their eventual personal alliance. That premise gives the Cold War backdrop a human dimension the more adversarial franchise entries did not pursue, and the tension between Anya's obligation to kill Bond and her growing personal connection to him gives the film an emotional complexity the more straightforwardly plotted entries lack. Stromberg's plan to destroy civilisation and rebuild it beneath the sea is the franchise's most explicitly misanthropic villain motivation to that point, and Jurgens plays it with a conviction that makes the threat feel genuinely nihilistic.
Direction
Gilbert's direction is confident and visually commanding throughout. Ken Adam's Atlantis set and submarine interior are among the most impressive production design achievements in the franchise's history, and Gilbert uses them with a spatial intelligence that makes the scale feel purposeful rather than merely large. The tanker interior assault is directed with a clarity that keeps the geography of a very large space legible across a complex action sequence, which is a more difficult achievement than it appears. Gilbert pitches the film at a register of grand-scale entertainment and genuine espionage tension, finding a balance between spectacle and narrative coherence that the Moore era's more overtly comic entries seldom reached. The film is funny without being frivolous, and its action sequences carry real physical stakes. Carly Simon's Nobody Does It Better and Marvin Hamlisch's score give the film a romantic undertow that distinguishes it from the more brassy franchise entries, the music suggesting a film that takes its emotional content as seriously as its spectacle.
Final Verdict: The Spy Who Loved Me is the Moore era operating at full capacity, and the result is one of the most satisfying Bond films the franchise has produced. Bach's Anya, Kiel's Jaws, Adam's production design, and Gilbert's command of the material combine to produce something that justifies its scale rather than simply asserting it. Its success was read partly as relief that the series could survive without Connery; the more durable recognition is that it set a standard the Moore era rarely matched again.