Our Man Flint (1966)

MASTER PLAN: makeover the world, beginning with ridding it of nukes. This is probably the best of the spoofs jumping on the James Bond bandwagon of the sixties (this came out after "Thunderball"). It takes the inherent absurdities of the Bond universe and amps them up even further, but not into total slapstick, like the much later "Austin Powers" pics of the nineties. This begins with a depiction of several major natural disasters throughout the world (stock footage from other films, I presume), the result of nefarious forces who can control the weather. The U.N., or something like it, is in near-panic, as groups of special agents have already failed to get to the bottom of this. But, Flint, the good-natured premiere secret agent, at first refuses to come out of retirement, nonchalantly suggesting that the world would right itself without his help. What makes this thoroughly entertaining is Coburn's performance as Flint: his is an unusual persona - arrogant yet humble, insolent yet polite, way too intelligent, always cool, with a bit of Steve McQueen and a touch of mysticism. And, quite unlike Sean Connery's version of 007. His character is very wealthy (why, we dunno), a martial arts expert with a catch-all gadget and his own set of codes. There's also a zen aspect, as, through some kind of meditation, he can turn off his own heartbeat. He also takes Bond's way with women a step further: he has his own harem, a quartet of ladies who cater to him and seem to worship his every move. Ah, yes, those sixties.

The film also copies the Bond structure of a teaser and then some surrealistic credits involving the female form, although these are less innovative. The actor Cobb is amusing as this world's version of M, the supposed chief and head of ZOWIE, always flustered and shocked by Flint's obstinate ways and arcane knowledge. He's also constantly answering the red phone, whose strange ringing signals a call from the U.S. Prez. The main villains turn out to be a trio of scientists whose aim is to change the world, after taking it over, of course. They operate from an island base which makes even the huge sets of the Bond films seem puny by comparison. There are even amusing direct references to the Bonders: this is not SPECTRE Flint is up against, we learn, and he has a scene with agent 0008, who happens to resemble Sean Connery. Another villain, a slick henchman (Mulhare), looks like Michael Caine's evil brother. And there's the femme fatale (Golan), who eventually goes over to Flint's side. Much of the film is silly, of course, with Flint's superhuman detective skills and cunning soon getting him to that island, by way of a certain soup recipe used in Marseille. But, once there, he finds a version of paradise which may suit his own perfectionist ways and this actually thrusts the story towards some thoughtful points, if so briefly. Since much of this proposed new world involves mind control, this may be why he rejects it outright - he's way too individualistic. There follows the standard explosions and carnage. This was successful enough to warrant the sequel, "In Like Flint," and was better than the lazy Matt Helm films of the same period. Hero:8 Villains:7 Femme Fatale:7 Henchman:7 Fights:7 Stunts/Chases:6 Gadgets:8 Auto:6 Locations:7 Pace:7 overall:7

Fmovies: If you approach this movie thinking it's going to be a proto-Austin Powers you might be in for a disappointment. Sure, it's a James Bond spoof, but nowhere near as broad as you might expect. The Bond movies were becoming increasingly self parodic by the late 60s anyway, so there's not all THAT much difference between this and say 'On Her Majesty's Secret Service', except this is more entertaining than just about any post-Connery Bond in my opinion. James Coburn is just terrific as super spy Derek Flint, a role he was born to play. I can't say this is his best performance acting wise, but his most enjoyable role? Could be. The More you dig Coburn the more you'll enjoy the movie as let's face it, the plot is pretty thin, about some maverick scientists controlling the world's weather. But hey, it sure does LOOK great, and Gila Golan ('The Valley Of The Gwangi') makes a very sexy co-star. Plus you have respected character actor Lee J. Cobb, and if you keep your eyes open James Brolin, and even Russ Meyer babe Tura Satana in the supporting cast. Cool fun for 1960s buffs.

Having read all the James Bond novels by Britain's Ian Fleming -- most of which were written in the 1950s long before the watershed 1960s era of sexual promiscuity, recreational drug use, proud individuality, rock and roll, anti-establishment protest, etc. -- I think that tracing the evolution of the original Bond to the outrageous Derek Flint in so few years might actually make a fascinating sociological Ph.D. thesis. In each of Fleming's novels, the 6', 170-lb. Bond was little more than a glorified policeman (as Dr. No so aptly described him) who used thought, skill, courage, and gritty determination to plausibly accomplish his mission and survive torture, all while falling for a single woman who usually died in the end. In his way, he was practically monogamous and faithful, in addition to being deadly serious. Fleming picked the name James Bond to connote a bland, rather unremarkable cog in the wheel of Her Majesty's Secret Service, albeit with a license to kill. The first Bond film, "Dr. No", remained fairly faithful to the novel, except that actor Sean Connery oozed an almost animalistic and sexual charisma which Fleming found inappropriate. By the second film, "To Russia With Love", Bond was becoming a swashbuckler capable of fighting off a dozen men in hand-to-hand combat without getting winded. In subsequent films over the next 40 years, Bond became more and more sexually promiscuous while performing increasingly implausible feats of daring-do, all while the plots and gadgets and bad guys became more and more outlandish. But in the mid-1960s, when "Our Man Flint" was released, the cinematic Bond was still largely grounded in reality, and his tongue was only occasionally in his cheek. Flint, on the other hand, wasn't so much a parody of Bond as the quintessential expression of what so many male, American Baby Boomers secretly wanted to be: adored by harems of gorgeous young women; multi-millionaires without having to work for it; quick, witty, and gifted with devastatingly high IQs; super-athletes and sportsmen; ultra-skilled in all forms of hand-to-hand combat without losing a fight or getting hurt; Renaissance men equally at home amid fine art, fine wine, eclectic music, sophisticated gadgets, Zen masters, foreign cultures, and powerful weapons. In other words, the comparatively "boring, nose-to-the-grindstone Bond" of the 1950s had, by the mid-1960s, become the "ultra-fantastic fantasy figure of Flint". One of the reasons Bond (in the novels) smoked so many cigarettes and didn't care, was that he was convinced he was going to be killed soon; his body was already covered with scars. Flint, on the other hand, seems to feel he's going to live forever in his prime -- exactly what many Baby Boomers wanted (and still want, in some cases). The Bond of the novels was a former naval commander and dedicated government agent almost 24/7; Flint is a playboy who probably contributes articles to "Playboy" and saves the world when it suits him because he unexpectedly has a few hours to kill. In many respects, Bond and Flint are opposites, just as the mid-1950s and mid-1960s were. Each character speaks volumes about the societies in which they first appeared. On a lighter note, I found "Our Man Flint" a hysterical hoot led by the outrageous, scenery-chewing James Coburn, and I recommend the movie to those who want to take a lighthearted look at the "pop Sixties" while chuckling and shaking their heads at the silliness.

Our Man Flint fmovies. OK, in retrospective, we should all know that 1960s espionage was all about cool dudes battling evil, and attracting hot babes in the process (though the latter often overshadowed the former, as Austin Powers showed). "Our Man Flint" is no exception. I will say that Derek Flint (James Coburn) isn't exactly James Bond, but he has his merits. The movie mostly seems like an excuse to experience that ultra-cool feeling that always emanated from the spy movies of the '60s, and they achieve that.

So, even if it isn't James Bond, it's still very enjoyable. Also starring Lee J. Cobb...and a bunch of half-dressed women.

So during that era, the four most important spies were James Bond, Derek Flint, Harry Palmer and Maxwell Smart.

Okay, time to get serious: it is not an understatement to declare that Our Man Flint is one of the greatest movies ever made in the entire history of cinema! Haha! It's so much fun!

Heck, how can you not love a movie in which Dick Wilson - the guy who played Mr. Whipple in the Charmin toilet paper commercials for more than 20 years - plays an agent for that evil insidious organization, Galaxy?

The two-film Flint series would never have been the incredibly popular spy spoof that it was - made at the height of the 007/Man From U.N.C.L.E./Wild Wild West/Matt Helm craze - if anyone other than the great James Coburn had been cast. The man was born to play the role.

It all comes together: Jerry Goldsmith's zippy spy music; beautiful babacious Gila Golan and Edward Mulhare as rotten rat Rodney and then of course, its legendary spoofing.

From the LBJ impersonator, to Benson Fong's Dr. Schneider and Peter Brocco's Dr. Wu, to Flints lighter that performs 82 separate functions...83 if you want to light a cigar, Our Man Flint is just the greatest fun!

They don't make them like James Coburn any more; compared to the likes of him, modern Hollywood leading men seem like fairies suited to play nothing more than Tinkerbell in Peter Pan remakes.

Here, Coburn plays the plethoric, three-doses-of-everything Derek Flint. Four girlfriends (up to five at one point as we learn in the sequel), able to stop his heart, master of combat techniques, uses two wolfhounds and a GSD to greet guests and escort them in (dog lovers, note the GSD's silver colouration, a rare combo with black in the US -- and note that a black and tan GSD is used in the sequel), forensic science genius, private jet owner, philosopher... the list goes on.

This is a fun film with plenty of outright silly moments. No more or less silly than James Bond films or even The Saint, the difference being Connery and Moore's characters appear to take themselves and their work much more seriously than Coburn's Flint does -- and with good reason. His clothing, made of fibres not found in nature on this planet, is at least three sizes two small; his pantlegs are configured for an imminent flood; his hairstyle rivals that of any British Invasion band member; his attitude toward women is similar to that of Alexis Zorbas (special albeit frail creatures that must be respected and loved); his shrieks and cries during hand-to-hand combat make Bruce Lee sound like Caruso.

Recommended!