The World Is Not Enough

After GoldenEye successfully rebooted the franchise, it didn’t take long for the rot to set back in. The World Is Not Enough may be only Pierce Brosnan’s third outing, but the worst excesses of the Roger Moore era don’t merely creep in - they storm the place like a lager-fuelled stag do.

The film is crammed with embarrassingly crude double entendres, ham-fisted comedy, and gadgets so daft they make Moonraker look like gritty realism. 

Evidence that the franchise was now locked in a self‑inflicted arms race arrives immediately. The pre-title sequence - the longest in Bond history - is a sprawling, hyperactive attempt to “top” past adventures.

From there, the film pinballs from location to location, each serving mainly as a backdrop for a greatest-hits package of past Bond action sequences. We get a ski chase (On Her Majesty’s Secret Service), submarine antics (The Spy Who Loved Me), bomb defusing (Goldfinger), and even a mine-based showdown (A View to a Kill). And in between, Brosnan is forced to deliver gratuitous sex jokes and wince-inducing comedy with Q (Desmond Llewellyn) and his irritating apprentice R (John Cleese).

All of which is a shame because somewhere inside The World Is Not Enough’s 007 karaoke lies the outline of a much better film. Bond actually has personal stakes this time, and Sophie Marceau’s Elektra King is one of the most fully realised female characters in the franchise’s 60-year history. These story elements offer tantalising glimpses of a more dramatically serious Bond, the sort that Daniel Craig would later perfect. Unfortunately, the filmmakers lacked the nerve to commit to that version.

Exploding helicopter action

The plot - such as it is - concerns attempts to control the world’s oil supply via the usual Bond villain method: stealing nuclear weapons and doing something vaguely apocalyptic.

Bond follows a lead to a caviar factory, but the villain soon gets wind of his presence and dispatches two helicopters from her mining operation to kill him.

These choppers come equipped with enormous rotating saw-blades dangling beneath them - basically giant flying food processors. They slice through the factory buildings where Bond is interrogating a suspect, sending metal and caviar flying.

After some obligatory dashing about, Bond uses a remote control to summon his car. He hops in, activates the onboard missile system, locks onto the first helicopter, and vaporises it with a single shot.

The chopper explodes and plunges vertically into a stack of oil drums, triggering yet another explosion - because in Bond films, all containers are 90% petrol.

While Bond admires his handiwork, the second helicopter swoops in and neatly slices his car in half. After more running around, Bond opens a gas pipe, sending a plume of flammable vapour into the air. 

He then fires a flare gun into the cloud, igniting it and blowing up the conveniently hovering helicopter.

The detonation sends the cutting wheels hurtling through the air like deranged, helicopter‑sized ninja stars.

Artistic merit

Underwhelming. There’s a strange absence of danger in these scenes - a problem that infects much of the film. Destroying the first helicopter with a single prod of the car’s missile button is so effortless it feels like Bond is cheating.

The second explosion at least requires some improvisation, but even then the whole thing feels like exploding‑helicopter‑by‑numbers. It doesn’t help that Brosnan looks immaculate throughout - tumbling over machinery, dodging blades, sprinting through explosions, and yet his suit remains flawlessly tailored. His tie stays perfectly knotted until he performs the traditional “now the danger’s passed, let’s loosen it” gesture.

It’s a glib observation, but it exposes a deeper flaw: if Bond never seems vulnerable, it’s hard to invest in the peril. Without the sense that he can be hurt, the action becomes weightless - a eunuch of an action sequence, robbed of any real vitality.

Exploding helicopter innovation

Not the first time Bond has blown up a helicopter with a missile fired from his car — Roger Moore managed the feat in The Spy Who Loved Me from the comfort of his submerged Lotus.

Number of exploding helicopters

Two.

Positives

The hanging rotary cutting tools are admittedly fun, in a super‑villain‑home‑improvement sort of way. But the helicopters have to move so slowly to use them that I’d fancy my chances of jogging clear of their deadly spinning cogs.

Negatives

The scene is tainted by the modern Bond trademark: shameless luxury-brand product placement. The car’s targeting system is embedded directly into the centre of the steering wheel — neatly framed within the logo of a well‑known German manufacturer. Exploding helicopters should not be cheapened by becoming glorified car adverts.

Also, the Russian accents are some of the worst ever recorded. Robbie Coltrane (Valentin Zukovsky) leans into pantomime territory; Robert Carlyle (Renard) sounds like he’s from the little-known Russian oblast of Glasgow; and as for Goldie (Bullion)… your guess is as good as mine.

Interesting fact

Apparently Joe Dante (Gremlins, Innerspace) was considered as a possible director. I can’t fully believe it either, but I read it on the internet - so it must be true.

Review: by Jafo

Still want more? Then check out the Exploding Helicopter podcast episode on The World Is Not Enough. Listen to it on iTunes, Podomatic, YourListen, Stitcher, or Acast.