Photo by Everett Ray Aponte
Photo by Everett Ray Aponte

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From Her Eyes Only

 

Reviewed by Paul Birchall

Edgemar Center for the Arts

Through Sept. 27

 

So, nobody does it better.  Makes me feel sad for the rest.  Nobody does it better.  Baby, baby, you’re the best.

 

We are talking about James Bond, ruthless British secret agent 007, who, along with Doctor Who and the dear old Queen Liz, are some of the best things to come out of England in the mid-20th century. 

 

Playwright Derek Jeremiah Reid’s well-intentioned collection of bits and bobs is sort of a love letter to James Bond, emerging as an earnest effort in the staged fan fiction genre.  It’s not a bad idea – in fact, there are aspects of the work that could possibly be startlingly imaginative.  However, Reid’s dramatic sensibility and dramatic skills are nowhere near up to the challenge of building on the writing of Bond creator Ian Fleming.

 

The intriguing premise of Reid’s revue involves staging a series of monologues, delivered by actresses who are playing the characters of the famous Bond Girls. The monologues purport to tell the stories of each woman’s interaction with Mr. Bond, from the female point of view.  For instance, here’s sultry Pussy Galore (Jessica Amlee, nicely vivid, if a little under-projected) describing how Bond made her quit being a lesbian; and there’s Bond’s one-time wife Tracy (Josephine Hies, describing her innocent affection for the secret agent. A snappy, vivid turn is offered by Patra Archie, portraying Bond’s sexy secretary Mary Goodnight (from The Man With the Golden Gun) – and Louisa Faye, all crisp inhibition, as British police officer Gala Brand (from the Moonraker book). 

 

One can amuse oneself imagining this as a feminist take on James Bond – with the famous Bond Girls getting to show off their true personalities and how they came to find themselves involved with this irresistible and (to women, anyway) potentially poisonous fellow. That’s not what you get here, though.  Instead, each female character merely summarizes her adventures with Bond (and, by the way, after a few minutes, you realize these are the plots from Ian Fleming’s Bond novels, not the movies). There’s no attempt to really tell us anything new or different about the women – and, honestly, since the characters remain defined only by their relationship to Bond, the ole Bechdel test remains unpassed. 

 

The second half of the show is a total surprise – particularly since the program clearly suggests that the show ends after Act 1 — and not necessarily an especially delightful one.  In Act 2, Reid presents a dramatization of the Ian Fleming short story “The Spy Who Loved Me” – not the movie with the sexy Russian agent and the cheesy assassin named Jaws, but the book, in which Bond saves a motel desk clerk from a pair of thugs. 

 

This isn’t the place to fully debate as to whether the producers have the legal right to put on an adaptation of Fleming’s story – the program notes that the works are in public domain “in Canada,” but we’re not watching this show in Saskatoon.  Instead, the issue is with the lackluster and flatly presented adaptation, which is stiffly acted and haltingly told with little adrenaline or suspense.  

 

As the mousy desk clerk, Amanda Ritchie offers a sweet, if insubstantial turn.  As James Bond, Reid is surprisingly suave and sexy – even if, like many of the show’s other performers, he seems a little uncomfortable on the stage. 

 

 

Edgmar Center for the Arts, 2437 Main Street, Santa Monica.  Fri., 8 p.m.; through Sept 25. (310) 392-7327, https://edgemarcenter.org. Running time: Two hours, 30-minutes.

 

 

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