The Moonraker

The film fails because it is melodramatic in conception, but does not have the courage to be unashamedly melodramatic in execution.

I always enjoyed this adventure yarn when I was a kid, and despite George Baker being about as wooden as a picket fence, I think it’s still an entertaining Cavalier/Roundhead story. With King Charles I now dead, the forces of the Commonwealth are focussing on catching his heir, the new King Charles II who is being helped by a few loyal royalists to make it to the safety of France. Hot on his heels, though, are the tenacious “Col. Beaumont” (Marius Goring) and the master of disguises “Maj, Greig”. We know all along who the mysterious “Moonraker” is, and for the next eighty minutes we follow his escapades as he tries to smuggle his very valuable cargo out of harms way. It all comes to an head in a seaside inn where a coach party are gathered and where you just know the swords are going to be flourishing. Sylvia Syms, whose “Anne” just happens to be the fiancée of the pursuing Colonel is also amongst their number, though her role is reduced to one of a rather simpering character and there is a great deal of script for us to wade through here but Paul Whitsun-Jones raises his game as the amiably pompous “Parfitt” who manages to make “nincompoop” sound a great deal nastier than we are used to. It moves along nicely with plenty happening until an exciting cliff top denouement that might have come from Daphné du Maurier, and if you like your derring-do done Hammer style, then you ough…

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