Hallmark Presents- A Very Depressing Thanksgiving

I took a stroll in the woods this morning, as far as you know. I happen to love this time of the year. The combination of yellows, browns, reds and oranges would paint a bizarrely imbalanced image in any other season, but autumn makes it work.

Now when I say I love the season, I don't mean I run out in the fifty degree temperatures doing cartwheels so much as the core of my inherent melancholia feels attuned to the beauty of decay. I don't know. Maybe I feel like the expectations on me to be 'up' and 'cheery' aren't as high.

So as I was lying, I strolled through the woods taking in the grandeur of harvest, when I noticed an odd sight; a very large turkey, human-sized, wearing a mock pilgrim outfit from the abdomen up. It sat alone on the remains of a fallen tree, apparently lost in thought.

Now turkeys usually tend to be much more social, and when one goes off on its own to sit in isolation that typically means it's wrestling with some huge moral dilemma or complicated math problem, and prefers being left alone. But as my birthday always falls on November 20th without fail, I've spent my life feeling a bit of a connection to Thanksgiving, if only for proximity. As such, I felt comfortable invading the poor bird's personal space.

"Hey buddy," I said. "You doing all right?"

"I'm fine," its beak smiled, even if the rest of its face indicated quite the opposite.

I sat down uninvited next to the creature. "Weather changes getting to you?" I suggested.

The turkey sighed. "Nothing like that. I guess it's just...Thanksgiving is getting to me."

"This particular Thanksgiving?"

"No, in general." The turkey sighed deeply. I prodded it as considerately as possible to elaborate. "I think it's been getting to me for a few years now."

"Like it doesn't mean as much anymore?"

The turkey shrugged. "I don't even know what it means now. I mean, what is the point of the holiday?"

"Something about pilgrims and early America. Probably a fictional re-imagining of history. Maybe even offensively so."

"Most people say it's supposed to be about family. Getting together. In many, many cases a family that doesn't want to get together. You have some family members who work their collective tails off preparing the apex 'meal' while the inactive family members wait. And wait. And by the time everyone is eating, they're all just kind of...over it."

That wasn't always the case, but the turkey had a point. "There's the parade," I said.

"When was the last time you watched the parade?"

"I don't know. A few years-" I trailed off, really trying to remember now. My most recent parade watching memories all had to do with the Disney Christmas parade. In fact, I think Jim Henson was still alive the last time I paid attention to Macy's. "A few decades ago?"

"Exactly!" The turkey seemed to find a new well of energy. "And why don't you watch the parade anymore?"

"Too many commercial breaks. And I never really care about the people they have scheduled to appear."

"That whole parade is a single commercial broken up by smaller commercials. The floats are commercials for other shows, and everything else is sponsored by somebody."

"Well, yeah," I said. "But it is Macy's parade. We wouldn't even have it if they weren't calling us to-"

"Their Christmas sale." The turkey gave me a knowing look which I didn't comprehend immediately.

"So you feel like Christmas horns into your territory too much?"

"I honestly don't care if Christmas horned in on Labor Day. This is the problem." The turkey turned to face me, holding up its plumes like fingers. "Halloween. Thanksgiving. Christmas. The big three. There are other holidays throughout the year, but this is western culture's triumvirate. Now Halloween is a guaranteed success because its a party with death. You CAN'T screw that up. Christmas gets planned as far back as July, and the weeks leading up to it are an overload of carols and eggnog. And what is smack dab between them?"

I nodded, feeling a newfound empathy for the turkey. "So you're feeling the pressure."

"No. I feel the expectations of disappointment." The turkey rubbed its eyes. "It used to be expectations that I could never meet, doomed to disappointment. Now I'm expected to disappoint, and I never seem to not deliver."

The turkey drew in a deep breath like it was about to come undone, but regained its composure with an almost professional recovery.

"I shouldn't complain," it continued. "Everyone from the groundhog to the leprechaun tells me how much they wish they could be nestled right between the jack-o-lantern and the tree. But I get so tired of having to smile whenever people keep chanting 'Happy Thanksgiving' or spend the next three days asking 'how was your Thanksgiving?'. It was THANKSGIVING. It was a placeholder between schools closing and Christmas shopping."

"Maybe we should call it Thanklessgiving," I said, only being met with an unamused glance.

"I guess sometimes I just wish I was Leap Day. Once every four years. No big fanfare. Just come and go. A little acknowledgement. And nobody has to feel like I was this big letdown."

"Yep," I said. "I hear you. When I was a kid I looked forward to the parades, probably because they were geared towards me. But I grew out them and never had another ritual to replace them. There's the family gatherings and croquet games and everybody trying to settle on a movie to tolerate. But like you say, Thanksgiving isn't really the day you get a reignited passion for as an adult."

I didn't know where I was going with that, and we wound up sitting in an awkward, yet somehow comfortable, silence. I tried to imagine what would make the perfect Thanksgiving. What new ritual. Or the perfect Thanksgiving special. There was no shortage of Halloween and Christmas television shows, but Thanksgiving was a bit of a hard nut to crack.

"Still," I said once I'd gotten tired of not speaking, "Maybe the fact that Thanksgiving is such a blank slate is the very reason it's a special day."

"You're really reaching, you know that?"

"Hear me out," I told the turkey. "Thanksgiving tends to be mediocre at best. But at its core there's a hopefulness. Maybe families see each other and the only story they walk away with is having seen each other, but it's at least a chance for something more meaningful to happen."

"Something meaningful can happen on any day."

"This is true. But you're more likely to find those experiences by seeking them out. And whether we realize it or not, Thanksgiving is one of those traditions that compels us to do something that we don't do every day. It may not guarantee that moment of personal development, but it certainly sets the table for it."

The turkey stared at me skeptically. "Are you using a dining metaphor on purpose?"

"Let's go with the harvest metaphor instead. When you go out collecting the sheaves you may not feel like you're doing something significant, but it needs to be done. And later when you need those sheaves, some small part of you is grateful to have gathered them."

I almost got an unwanted laugh out of the turkey. "Do you even know what a sheaf is?"

"No clue. It's harvest related. The point is, Thanksgiving is important, even if it's not immediately discernible why. It's a landmark in the annual passage of the seasons that keeps the holidays from going by too fast. We may not sing Thanksgiving carols, but if even that one single moment where the feast is revealed causes people to become consciously aware that today, and no other day, is Thanksgiving, then isn't that enough of a reason to say it still means something?"

The turkey generously absorbed my rambling with dignity before hopping up onto its legs. "Right. Come on then."

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Nowhere. I just feel like walking."

"Did I help at all?"

The turkey suppressed its condescension. "If you call 'transforming the problem into preposterousness' helping, then yes."

I smiled and said "You're welcome." And we strolled together for a little while.

The Carousel: Calm Tides

I took an online writing course in October/early November, and this is one of the assignments I submitted for feedback (and not very good feedback). I hope you enjoy it more than my virtual classmates did.

Calm Tides

The sun was just beginning its descent to the horizon over an ocean without waves as Zelphina peered across the beach; empty except for one occupant. Her name was Anomaly. The shapeshifter. The only vestige from her home world to have survived with her. In a stupid sunhat.

Zelphina exhaled a reptilian growl as she crossed the cooling sands. Anomaly was on a cell phone, talking about expenditures and marketing and other gibberish that Zelphina could honestly not bring herself to give a damn about. Anomaly smiled at her as she approached, giving the ground next to her a pat. But Zelphina kept standing.

Anomaly finished her conversation and turned off the phone. “Blossoming credit union,” she explained. “I’m going to be backing them.”

“Murderess.” The word slipped through Zelphina’s lips.

Anomaly was non-plussed. “Your mom was a murderess. I’m an executioner. Haven’t you figured out the difference by now?”

“Do you have any idea what you did to me?”

“Yes, sweetie. I never forget anything.” Anomaly’s body elongated so her eyes were on Zelphina’s level. “Do you know what I did to you?”

“You turned me into an abomination!”

“No Zel. Tourmal, your unrequited ex-lover turned you into a science project.” Anomaly was now the shape of her current persona on her feet. “You and I? We’re going to be sharing this world for the foreseeable future. Can we please try to come to an understanding?”

There were nearly tears in Zelphina’s eyes but she willed them back. “I never did anything to you!”

“You’re right,” said Anomaly. “You are absolutely right. I am a bitch. It is in my nature to be so. Does my admitting that help you in any way?”

Zelphina shook her head.

“Exactly,” said Anomaly. “We’re stuck here, on this dumb primitive asteroid. Indefinitely. But we have an empty beach and calm waters. Can we please just bask in the metaphor?”

“What is it you want?””

“I want to apologize.”

Zelphina glared at her. “I had wires piercing every pore in my skin-”

“They were crystal shards penetrating your muscles, and there were twenty-eight of them.”

Zelphina shoved Anomaly’s form to the ground. “What is the difference to ME?”

Anomaly transformed into her natural gelatinous texture before reclaiming her previous standing shape. “Point taken. Continue.”

Zelphina rubbed her eyes. “Would you please get rid of that stupid sunhat.”

“I thought you’d find it becoming,” Anomaly grinned.

“It’s becoming impossible to take you seriously in it,” Zelphina snarled.

“Fine.” The hat dissolved into an array of cropped black hair. “Happy?”

Zelphina sighed. “Yes, that makes me hate you so much less.”

“Good. Then sit down with me.”

Zelphina sunk to the ground, just enduring the conversation for as long as she had to. Anomaly sat behind her and began massaging her neck. Zelphina leaned away. “What are you doing?”

“Being nice,” Anomaly pulled her back to where she was before. “Don’t give me shit about it. Why do you hate me so much?”

“I just TOLD you-”

“You do know Tourmal and I were victims of a psychic attack, right? It brought out both of our evil impulses.”

“You never needed the help.”

“Zel, I’m a bitch. I’m not an evil bitch, and you know it. That was your mother, who I am not. And I’m not going to pick up the tab for her just because I’m the one who is still standing.”

Zelphina just lowered her head giving no response to the neck rub Anomaly was bestowing on her.

“Why didn’t you ever hate Tourmal?” asked Anomaly. “The guy broke your heart when he wasn’t an evil bastard. He was the one who strapped you into the apparatus, I was just the assistant. Why does he reap the benefit of your absolution?”

“Because that wasn’t him.”

“Zel?” Anomaly discontinued her massage therapy and slithered around to face her. “Tourmal was never going to love you. He was attracted to a darkness that your heart just doesn’t have.”

“I went to Hell when I died! Was that not darkness enough.”

“You never belonged there. You were not like the rest of us. To this day you still view yourself as some kind of a monster. But the reality is, our world was a breeding ground for monsters and you were an angel that we didn’t deserve.”

Zelphina turned her head away, placing her palm over her mouth in case another word slipped out. She almost choked on her own breath when she heard Tourmal’s voice in front of her.

“I never could love her.”

Zelphina’s jaw fell as the tears she’d been commanding back chose this moment to ignore the orders. “Anomaly, don’t-”

“These were his words exactly,” said Anomaly through Tourmal’s voice. “I wish I could have loved her, but I just couldn’t. She’s too good.”

“Anomaly-”

“Do you want to know why we put you in that horrible device?”

“No.”

“With all of the evil in him unlocked, he said to me ‘It’s the cruelest thing I can think of’.”

The back of Zelphina’s hand struck the face of Tourmal so hard it spun on his neck. Anomaly’s body shifted unwillingly back to its natural form. A ripple pulsed through her as she regained her composure. She nodded. “Okay, loose nerve.”

“Don’t you ever,” stammered Zelphina, “put his face in front of me again.”

“Right.” Anomaly moved into a sitting position next to Zelphina. “So-”

“So that’s your apology?”

“No, that’s my ice breaker. This is my apology.” She nudge Zelphina with her shoulder. “You and I are the last of our world. We’re all that we have left of it. It’s quite possible we’re going to need each other.”

“You’re kidding me, right? You want us to be friends?”

Anomaly laughed. “No, sweetie. I’m not asking for a miracle. I want us to be family.”

“Family?” Zelphina repeated like she’d forgotten the meaning of the word.

“Yes. I want you to keep me from hurting this world.”

Zelphina spent several moments unable to speak. When the words finally came to her, they filled her with fear.

“Nommie, what have you done?”

It's Your Sequel, Lucy van Pelt!

And, no. Craig Schulz didn't text me last night to discuss the future of the Peanuts franchise.

There are so many wonderful things about the newest Peanuts film, but there was this one subtle moment I'm finding myself preoccupied with. Near the beginning of the movie, Charlie Brown's classmates are anxiously awaiting the arrival of the new student (the little red-haired girl). They all perk up when the door opens. But then they see Charlie Brown standing there, and are quite unfiltered about their disappointment, even blaming him for existing.

And somewhere in the midst of this mass negativity, Lucy gives him a truly sincere greeting. And it doesn't come across as delivered out of pity or some kind of recovery. Lucy wears her emotions on her sleeves. She's genuinely pleased to see him, and unaffected by her peers.

It was in that moment that I realized just how layered her character is. I'm not suggesting Lucy is Charles Schulz's greatest character, by she may very well be his most complex. I once read a retrospective on the Peanuts comic strip, where a source close to Charles Schulz suggested that he really got out a lot of his own personal shadows through Lucy.

So I'd like to take a little time exploring her character with the hope of supporting my claim that a Peanuts sequel, told from her point of view, could be the The Empire Strikes Back of the series. For this study, I'm treating the whole body of work in the franchise as equally authoritative (and the stage production Dog Sees God as a disrespectful mockery). Charles Schulz only considered the comic strips canon, but the characters were accurately portrayed in the specials and films, and character is what I'm looking at.

Who is Lucy?

We know a lot about her even if we don't know why she's that way. She's loud. Even when she's happy, she's usually loud about it. She might have a certain narcissism about her. She quite confidently refers to herself as 'pretty' and 'beautiful' even if nobody else does. This doesn't come across as a mask for insecurities, I believe she believes that.

We don't know too much about her parents. She's gotten into offscreen/panel fights with her mother on multiple occasions, who has described her own daughter as a fussbudget, to Lucy's offense. Just inducting who Mrs. van Pelt is from Lucy's point of view, you'd think the mom might actually have Lucy's temperament as well. But Linus's interaction with her paint the picture of a caring, nurturing, stable mom. I'm positive their father has been mentioned as being equally supportive of the children.

And just to answer the elephant in the room question of where the hell the adults are in this neighborhood. It's simple. They're around, but the stories and the humor work better by editing them out. This isn't reality. This is metaphor. It's real feelings, not real events.

But back to Lucy. It's worth noting how she looks up to 'grandma' who I've always assumed to be from the mother's side, and bonds with her over her hatred of Linus's blanket. It's really the only element within Lucy's upbringing that seems to affect her overall personality, so I guess we need to look elsewhere to really crack her.

Violet Gray, the Queen 'B'

You ever notice how the female characters in Peanuts tend to have more power than the males? The clearest example was in Race for Your Life, Charlie Brown when the girls voted the boys out of the cabin, never giving the boys a say in the matter (or receiving much of a protest). A better example was in the aforementioned blanket-hating grandma story arc. Linus finally throws down at the end, declaring that their mother is the only person with the authority to tell him to give up his blanket.

I'm sure we're all familiar with the original strip, featuring the (sort of) character Shermy at his most talkative. The inherent hatred of Charlie Brown is there, right out of the gate. But whereas Shermy is content to just detest Charlie Brown behind his back, the girls pick up the concept and run with it. Patty seems to be mean to Charlie Brown because she feels like she's supposed to be. But then Violet blooms.

Violet is a bitch. She goes out of her way to be cruel to Chuck. You can tell she's a classic bully, in that she's deeply insecure and only feels better about herself when Charlie Brown is miserable. I would argue that Violet's antagonistic behavior filtering through Patty and Frieda is a lot of the source of Charlie Brown's mistreatment.

Lucy gets in on it some, but she's no Violet groupie. Lucy is her own person for better or worse. While she's still clearly a bully, it doesn't come from the same place as it does with Violet.

"I'll Hold the Football..."

Lucy's relationship with Charlie Brown is perfectly summed up with this classic metaphor. Lucy will always promise to never pull the ball away, citing some kind of clause or rationale to convince Charlie Brown that this time will be different. He accepts her words and gets the outcome we all know is coming, whereupon Lucy delivers the loophole in her logic that she'd withheld prior.

But let's back it up a bit. Lucy has the alpha female personality. The only reason Violet has her groupies is because Lucy doesn't want them. That's petty shit, and Lucy is somehow above it. Instead of being the popular girl, she voluntarily spends most of her time with the class loser. What's all that about?

Well, her motivations are kind of complicated. On the one hand, Lucy seems unconsciously aware that the Peanuts world has a certain rhythm to it. Charlie Brown is meant to fail. It's not a fair balance, but it's the one they live in. And if she helps that failure along then it restores the status quo.

Take the end of A Boy Named Charlie Brown, where Chuck has experienced his most televised failure at the spelling bee and is REALLY having trouble getting out of bed. He finally drags himself into the world and slowly absorbs the fact that nothing has changed; clouds roll, birds sing, life moves on. And there on cue is Lucy, with the football. He thinks he's hidden, but she knows he's there. And with some sort of psychic power, she pulls the ball away with perfect timing. "Welcome home," she tells in with a sweet/sadistic combination that Maleficent would approve of.

Now step back to that televised moment when Charlie Brown blows the spelling bee on an easy word. Look at Lucy's reaction. She's livid, because she really WANTED him to win. There's the complication. She wants him to both win AND lose; the latter because it's comforting, the former because she really does care about him.

Now does that make Lucy a good friend? No. She's doing more harm than good. In real life, she would be considered abusive. But again, this isn't real life. This is where we go to explore real life issues in a safe, fictional setting. It's not as simple as her just being a bully like Violet. Lucy has a benevolence. I always loved the bit in It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown when Lucy wakes up in the middle of the night to check on Linus, collects him from the pumpkin patch and puts him in bed without ever saying a word. I always wondered if Linus ever figured out that Lucy had come to his rescue.

Did Beethoven Know Jingle Bells?

This is the big one.

Why Lucy is attracted to Schroeder isn't important. The fact that she can't have him is. Even Lucy knows what it feels like to be Charlie Brown, and approval from Schroeder is her football. So many questions. Would Lucy lose interest if Schroeder started paying attention to her? Um...okay...one question then.

Lucy is fully aware that she's a pest, but Schroeder clearly doesn't mind her being there until she starts competing with his music. And here is where the potential for a whole sequel centered around Lucy comes into play. What if we shake up this dynamic?

Here's my idea for the premise. Lucy gets tired of getting no reaction out of Schroeder. She goes to Charlie Brown, who she deems as the master of continuing to try even though failure is inevitable. She even sits him in her chair at the psychiatrists booth (but still charges him a nickel for the professional consultation). He tells her what he always does and Lucy ponders it, coming to the logical conclusion that the fact that Charlie Brown keeps trying the same approach is why he continues to fail.

Thus she tries a different tactic with Schroeder, seven words to be precise. "Can you teach me how to play?"

Of course Lucy isn't really interested in learning, she's only interested in Schroeder, but after a bit of banter she convinced him that she really is in it for the music. For a while, things are working well between them. But eventually her lack of skill and passion will cause Schroeder to say something that really hurts her. He only means it as a rejection of her seriousness about learning to play but she feels it as a rejection of her personally. This is the all important protagonist's breaking point.

At that point, who does she turn to for help, and are they able to help? How does she deal with that kind of pain? When Schroeder (himself a bit of a tough nut to crack) finally understands the situation, how does he react?

We're more than familiar with the way Charlie Brown views the world around him. For once I would love to see that world through the eyes of his antithesis. It would also give us a chance to see what some of the blank slate characters like Patty and Shermy really do with their daily lives. The world that Charles Schulz created for us is paradoxically magical in its ordinariness.

As Craig Schulz has demonstrated, there's still some life in the creation. We may be out of holidays to explicate, but Happiness is a Warm Blanket, Charlie Brown was the first in-universe deconstruction of these classic characters. It's was a bold move that really paid off. The new Peanuts film built that concept into a thing of beauty.

By the way, you might enjoy this six minute short student film my wife and I were in several years ago called Mr. Failure. I play a husband trying to kill his wife and failing repeatedly. We were halfway through filming before it occurred to us that we were essentially playing Charlie Brown and Lucy as a married couple.

That'll be five cents please.

The James Bond Theme Songs (Ranked to Start an Argument)

So you've shelled out your money to see the latest Bond flick, hoping this one is at least going to be decent enough. There are a lot of elements to focus on: believable villain, solid action, innovative chase scene, do we ever actually believe Bond is in danger, and so on. We have the pre-credit sequence, which can be mere filler, or conceivably better than the rest of the movie (The World is Not Enough). And then comes the theme song, which will forever be the first thing that pops into our heads (ideally) whenever the film name comes up again.

A good theme song riles us up or earns our trust. A bad one isn't necessarily a deal breaker, but it can put us off to the story we've paid to see right out of the gate. And even a Bond film may find it an insurmountable challenge to win us back. In other words, these things matter.

So here, I've ranked the theme songs to twenty-four James Bond films in order of quality, based on what I think is important. Mostly, I'm interested in the mood that the songs set for the feature which follows. Lyrics are irrelevant to me in a Bond theme. I'm also not factoring in the opening credit visuals. I'm treating the songs as lifted straight off the soundtracks. So, here we go.

24. Moonraker - Shirley Bassey (1979)

If you're going to write a James Bond theme song, you're already working against yourself by doing a slow one. This song is a freaking lullaby, which is the last thing James Bond is about. And for a movie as ridiculous as Moonraker it's not a good idea to put your audience to sleep.

23. Writing's on the Wall - Sam Smith (2015)

Yep, the new one. It's not just a letdown, it's an embarrassment. There are really three successful moods a Bond theme can convey; there's an impending danger, there's one that's already in motion, or Bond is our guy in case one happens. This song creates the mood that Bond has locked his keys in his car and has to walk home in the rain. Don't waste our time, dude. (Addendum: The Oscars could give you nine awards for this song, it's not going to make it suck any less). 

22. You Know My Name - Chris Cornell (2006)

I have seen Casino Royale at least ten times and this song has just not stayed in my head. I don't know what it sounds like, and it deserves it's low spot for leaving absolutely no impression.

21. Another Way to Die - Jack White & Alicia Keys (2008)

The Daniel Craig era just can't get a break with theme songs. Quantum of Solace had to be the single most poorly edited James Bond film. From start to finish STUFF happens, and that's all I remember about it. And this song curiously sets the right atmosphere, in that it can't seem to pick a key or decide what the actually notes in the melody are.

20. The World is Not Enough - Garbage (1999)

If you're going to call your band name 'Garbage' you're really asking for it. I'm guessing this song was supposed to be about someone bored with life, but it really just inspired the emotion. The World is Not Enough is a terrible movie with the greatest Bond pre-credits sequence. So as soon as you hear this song start, you can turn the movie off. You're welcome.

19. We Have All the Time in the World - Louis Armstrong (1969)

We're moving into the mediocre territory now, and while this is a decent enough song, it's just not Bond-theme caliber. And yeah, technically the theme to On Her Majesty's Secret Service was an instrumental piece but this is the one people remember from Lazenby's only outing; mainly because it ties in with the wonderfully tragic ending.

18. You Only Live Twice - Nancy Sinatra (1967)

Again, this song is decent, it's pretty, certainly dated, and just NOT James Bond. This song is an inspirational motivator to go back to school in your fifties. Bond is a killer. The two don't really play well together.

17. The Living Daylights - A-ha (1987)

This was a pretty good movie with one of the dumbest names (surpassed only by Octopussy). As for the theme song? Eh, there's nothing wrong with it except that it's not very good. It stays in your head, I'll give it that. But it's tepid. And Bond demands better, particularly because Timothy Dalton was really pushing for the darker Bond that Daniel Craig is getting so much credit for now.

16. Licence to Kill - Gladys Knight (1989)

Marginally better than the previous entry. Gladys Knight is a power singer, and that usually gives an okay song a needed shot of adrenaline. But that's really the only thing this song has going for it. It's just passable.

15. The James Bond Theme - Monty Norman (1962)

Yeah, I went there. I'm referring specifically to the original incarnation of the song in Dr. No. One of the most recognizable instrumental pieces in film history has been orchestrated into something truly spectacular, but in its original form the song is just okay. It hadn't found it's dramatic punch yet, and for lack of any other song from Dr. No, that's why it takes the fifteenth spot.

14. From Russia with Love - Matt Monro (1963)

I'm not really fond of this period of musical styling, but this song actually does carry a nice easy listening feel to it. Like so many of the slower numbers, this doesn't exactly announce James Bond. But it's an admirable time capsule of pre-Goldfinger days long gone.

13. All Time High - Rita Coolidge (1983)

A song called Octopussy wouldn't have received much airplay, so they went with this. I like the ballad just fine, and in an eighties romantic comedy it might have found a better home. It kind of felt like they weren't really trying here.

12. The Man with the Golden Gun - Lulu (1974)

This song is silly. It's a silly movie and a waste of Christopher Lee's talent. But somewhere in the complete preposterousness of Lulu singing her heart out, the theme song makes me smile. It could only have been part of the Roger Moore era, but yeah. This is the goofy Bond immortalized.

11. Goldfinger - Shirley Bassey (1964)



Damn right I put this one at eleven. This song is not as good as people want to believe it is. It's iconic, yes. It introduces the elements that make for a really good Bond song, absolutely. But that doesn't mean it's fantastic on its own or deserves to top the list. It's loud and brassy and it borders on self parody. Goldfinger is the Mike Myers of Bond's lineup. It makes its mark, but it will never be Phil Hartman.

10. Tomorrow Never Dies - Sheryl Crow (1997)

"Darling, I'm killed. I'm in a puddle on the floor." I know I said I'd ignore lyrics, but MAN that sums up the women in Bond's life in no uncertain terms. We're in the top ten now. Sheryl Crow's hit single is merely the least good of the good ones. We're not Bond in this song or the villain. We're the destruction in his wake. It's wonderfully melancholic.

9. Skyfall - Adele (2012)

I'd originally meant to place this one higher on the list, but then I thought about it. It's a good song with the same melancholy of Tomorrow Never Dies, but the truth is, it only seems greater than it is because the two Daniel Craig films before it gave us such crap theme songs. Giving it the credit it earns lands it in the ninth spot.

8. Diamonds are Forever - Shirley Bassey (1971)

Shirley Bassey will probably be the only repeat business the James Bond franchise ever allows with its theme songs. Unlike the tepid Moonraker or the over the top Goldfinger, she hits the sweet spot right in the middle with this one. It's a devilishly cold world, and Bond doesn't make it any warmer. Just bloodier. The woman in this song is a black widow that Bond has yet to actually encounter. Some day.

7. Thunderball - Tom Jones (1965)

Closing out the Connery era is this gem. It's utterly ridiculous and so awesome. For decades the Bond of the cinema was a superhero, and this song summarized exactly how larger than life you could push the character without sacrificing credibility. As long as they don't send him to space...

6. Die Another Day - Madonna (2002)

Believe me, I'd love to score any song with Madonna's name on it much lower, but the first time I saw these opening credits on the screen I thought "We've got a winner." The song has a sense of rebellious urgency to it. Even if the movie doesn't quite keep its energy going all the way through (and Halle Berry seemed to think she was in an Austin Powers flick), the opening really does grab you like something important is going on.

5. Live and Let Die - Paul McCartney & Wings (1973)

This is possibly the oddest song in James Bond's track list. With multiple tempo changes and a generally cold-hearted demeanor you almost wonder if you've bought a ticket to a slasher film. The film itself is uncomfortable for so very many reasons, but only John Williams had ever succeeded in this level of bludgeoning an audience with a melody.

4. Nobody Does it Better - Carly Simon (1977)

This is the slow-tempo ballad that is just special enough to crack the top five songs, and set the bar for all other Bond ballads. This movie was Roger Moore's Goldfinger, but unlike Sean Connery's brass section blasting in your face, this song has a soothing 'I have nothing to prove' quality that defines the Bond of the late seventies and early eighties.

3. For Your Eyes Only - Sheena Easton (1981)

Well, lyrically you certainly can't say that the song never mentions the film title. This is my favorite James Bond film, and I own Bill Conti's orchestrated soundtrack on vinyl. For Your Eyes Only isn't the most dramatic song, but something about it just feels like James Bond in all of his incarnations. He represents that spot of trust in a world prepared to burn.

2. A View to a Kill - Duran Duran (1985)

This is officially the worst James Bond film ever. There is literally no redeeming quality of anything that appears on the screen, and if not for this awesome song we could just as easily pretend the movie never existed. It's funny how the Roger Moore era had a merely okay batting average with film quality, but has a nearly perfect track record in the theme song department (stupid, stupid Moonraker).

1. Goldeneye - Tina Turner (1995)

Oh yeah, that's the stuff. Take the best of everything and blend it all together (a power singer, a soft pizzicato slither, an aggressive horn section, the word 'gold' in the title, and the Bond theme itself) and you get this. Bond had been out of theaters for six years when this movie happened, and this song captures the feel of the phoenix's slow burn before erupting into a golden explosion. Revenge is a kiss indeed.