CHAPTER 7
THE POLITICS OF REPRESENTATION
Disciplining and Domesticating Miss Moneypenny in Skyfall
Kristen Shaw
In the opening scene of Skyfall (Sam Mendes 2012), James Bond, played by Daniel Craig, moves from a dark entryway into the crowded streets of Istanbul. A car pulls up and he steps inside, temporarily a passenger rather than the instigator of the action. Here, audiences are introduced to Eve, played by Naomie Harris, the character who is revealed to be Miss Moneypenny, M’s iconic secretary, at the conclusion of the film. With Bond in tow, Moneypenny chases a black car through crowded streets, knocking off one side view mirror in the process, to which Bond casually quips, “It’s alright, weren’t using it.” When the other side view mirror is destroyed moments later, Moneypenny quips back, “I wasn’t using that one, either.” Moneypenny’s playful repartee with Bond is reflected in her ability, throughout the remainder of this scene, to keep up with the action as they navigate cramped Turkish streets. The image of Moneypenny as an action hero eclipses her traditional representation as M’s secretary and the doting admirer of Bond. This initial representation of Moneypenny suggests that twenty-first century audiences of the Bond franchise will be provided with a positive representation of a black woman with agency and power to match Bond’s own.
The climax of this scene, however, demonstrates that Moneypenny’s aggressive agency is out of place and unwelcome within this action narrative. As the chase progresses, Bond ends up engaging in hand-to-hand combat with the mercenary Patrice on top of a moving train with Moneypenny following alongside in her vehicle. Moneypenny remains in contact with M at MI6, reporting the events as they occur. When the road ends, Moneypenny exits her Jeep and prepares to take a shot at Bond’s assailant, warning M that “she may have a shot, [but] it’s not clean.” Despite the risk, M orders Moneypenny to shoot and she accidentally hits Bond, sending him plummeting into the river below.
Moneypenny’s bad shot initiates a narrative shift that repositions her as a transgressor of the system rather than a proper agent; the presence of a powerful black woman at the center of the action narrative exceeds the conventions of the genre and poses a threat to its representational codes. The initial depiction of Moneypenny as not only being “in” on the action but also capable of keeping pace with Bond threatens the framework of the action genre, which is predominantly coded as a white, masculine, and heterosexual space. Moneypenny’s bad shot literally challenges the prowess of Bond as the idealized white male hero, but this moment also signals her transgression of conventional narrative codes that demand women and racialized “Others” remain on the periphery, rather than at the center, of the action. Throughout Skyfall, Moneypenny is made to pay for her “bad shot” by engaging in a series of disciplinary interpellations that (re)articulate her “proper place” and effectively transform her from Bond’s equal to a supportive sidekick. Insofar as the film demands that Moneypenny be repositioned and disciplined to understand her “proper place,” the film’s narrative signals a broader inability on the part of action cinema to renegotiate representations of traditionally marginalized identities and to integrate racial and gendered “Others” into the center of the action.
MONEYPENNY’S “BAD SHOT”: PENETRATING BOND’S BODY
Recent analyses of Casino Royale (Martin Campbell 2006) and Quantum of Solace (Marc Forster 2008) emphasize the specularisation of Bond’s body, which becomes a visual guarantee of the ascendency and power of the post-Cold War British nation. Colleen M. Tremonte and Linda Racioppi argue that Bond’s body becomes an “object of the gaze” in Casino Royale that reverses an objectifying gaze that has focused solely on women (191). This specularisation, according to Lisa Funnell, represents a shift away from the “British lover tradition” and towards a more Hollywood mode of muscular masculinity in which “Bond’s body, rather than his libido, [becomes] the new locus of masculinity” (“Negotiating” 208). Where Skyfall differs is the extent to which Bond’s body is revealed as vulnerable. For as Klaus Dodds notes, Skyfall is the first Bond film that visualizes Bond’s aging and vulnerable body (121). This is clearly evident in the opening credits, which depict Bond’s body being pulled downward through the water by a woman’s hand and absorbed into a black pit that emerges from the riverbed. Clouds of blood transform the screen and images of Bond as a shooting target marred with bleeding bullet holes reinforce his vulnerability.
By focusing on the weakness of Bond’s body in the title sequence, the film draws a connection between the relative health of Bond and the strength of the British nation. As Dodds notes, it is Bond’s vulnerable body that “offers an opportunity to link his eventual rehabilitation to that of the national security state” (122). This focus enables Skyfall to establish a narrative of reconstitution, in which Bond must undergo a series of trials that enable him to assert his corporeal superiority. Bond’s resurrection as a virile action hero is linked to the ability of Britain to retain its power in an increasingly volatile and uncontrollable geopolitical climate (ibid. 120). If, as Moneypenny notes, Bond can be seen as an “old dog with new tricks,” Britain, too, must undergo a similar narrative reconstitution in order to maintain its representation as experienced and strong, its body politic bolstered by the traditional virtues embodied in the British bulldog that sits on M’s desk.
In this sense, the focus on the revival of Bond’s fit and hypermasculine body throughout the film reiterates the proper gender relations constitutive of a “healthy” British nation. Although women and people of color are not necessarily barred from this sphere, they are fundamentally conceptualized as “out of place” (Woollacott 110) and require a reorientation that resituates them at the margins of a male dominated arena (Tremonte and Racioppi 190). Moneypenny’s bad shot challenges the hyper-masculinity and strength of Bond’s body, quite literally by penetrating the typical sheen of the male action hero. Insofar as one of the underlying themes of Skyfall is Bond’s bodily rehabilitation and the restoration of his masculinity and heroism, Moneypenny’s initial actions interfere with this narrative arc, temporarily stalling this process of rehabilitation. Given Dodds’ argument that “‘resilience’ as with age and gender is something best thought of as being shaped by relations and interactions between different groups” (126), it is notable that the rehabilitation of Bond’s white, cisgendered, male body is stalled by his relationship with Moneypenny, whose racial and gendered Otherness is represented as an obstacle to Bond’s capacity to reconfirm his own masculinity. Craig’s Bond is reproduced as resilient through his interaction with Moneypenny as the racial and gendered Other; an exchange that allows Bond to come out on top but which forecloses the possibility that Moneypenny could achieve the same. Moneypenny’s bad shot, and the disciplinary actions she must undergo as a result, reveal the transgressive quality of a strong black woman interfering into and enacting violence within a space defined by gendered and racial parameters.
Moneypenny’s reorientation takes place on multiple levels, starting with MI6 as the bureaucratic agency that interferes to discipline her as a result of her mistake. In Skyfall—and the Craig films more generally—discipline is reframed as a bureaucratic necessity, and disciplinary violence is executed by agencies like MI6. This shift effectively obscures the fact that procedures that marginalize women are acts of discipline; instead, these acts are presented as necessary bureaucratic “adjustments” that enable the perpetuation of the normative social order. In this sense, Tremonte and Racciopi’s argument that violent women are put into their place by Bond (188) is modified in the Craig-era films; Bond’s attempts come second to the activities of the state/M16 and only reinforce the (ideological) violence that has already repositioned these women.
SKYFALL AND THE BIRACIAL BUDDY
The relationship between Moneypenny and Bond can be conceptualized through the lens of what Ed Guerrero calls the “biracial buddy” narrative, a dynamic that recurs in Hollywood action films of the 1980s. The biracial buddy formula establishes the white male lead as the hero with the “black buddy” as a supporting figure, invoking the idea of the white hero serving as “cultural and ideological chaperone” (Guerrero 239) to the black buddy. Insofar as they represent simplified versions of biracial homosocial bonding without unsettling the social hierarchy that positions whites as superior to blacks, biracial buddy films “present the audience with escapist fantasy narratives […] that mediate America’s very real and intractable racial problems” (ibid. 240). The first “black buddy” of the Craig era films is Felix Leiter, a recurring character in the series who was recast as a black man played by Jeffrey Wright in Casino Royale. Moneypenny effectively replaces Leiter as the “black helper” in Skyfall and she, unlike Leiter, is presented as a threat to Bond as she competes with him for heroic status. As a British agent, Moneypenny seeks to occupy the same “field” as Bond, whereas Leiter is an American agent who circulates in the same networks threatening Bond’s dominance. Leiter’s strength, knowledge, and heroic capacities can be accommodated by the narrative insofar as he uses them to assist Bond in his missions.
While Leiter’s masculinity marks him out as an appropriate operator, Moneypenny’s competence is constantly called into question. The Craig-era films take for granted the authority and competence of male agents, providing multiple opportunities for these men to recuperate and display their physical and professional superiority. The biracial buddy dynamic is therefore modified by the recalibration of the Craig-era films to reflect Hollywood action film conventions—a shift that inscribes the muscular, hypermasculine body and its physical fitness as the central signifier of heroic competence (Funnell, “I Know” 463). Leiter, who is representative of both male heroism and American interests, is acceptable as a black buddy, while Moneypenny is not. This is best illustrated through a comparison of the relative sacrifices of Leiter and Moneypenny. In Quantum of Solace, Leiter puts his career on the line by disobeying his superior in order to save Bond’s life and provide him with intelligence. Leiter’s “sacrifice” actually works in his favor, resulting in his promotion at the conclusion of the film. Moneypenny, alternatively, sacrifices her position in the field in order to assume the role of informant, and by the conclusion of the film, administrative assistant. The intersection of gender and nationality seems to determine how their respective sacrifices are coded within the narrative. While Leiter’s sacrifice proves that he is deserving of a promotion and a more important position in the field, Moneypenny’s narrative arc justifies her eventual demotion to a supportive and administrative role.
Moneypenny’s transition from autonomous field agent to supportive “buddy” is made clear after Bond returns to MI6 and reassumes his position in the field. During their first exchange after the shooting incident, Moneypenny apologizes to Bond and notes: “I’ve been reassigned. Temporary suspension from fieldwork. Something to do with killing 007.” Bond responds, “Well, you gave it your best shot,” only to have Moneypenny snap back with “that was hardly my best shot.” Although Bond’s comment, framed in a witty and flirtatious exchange, is not intended to be taken seriously, the underlying tension of his statement allows him the opportunity to rearticulate his own competency at the expense of Moneypenny (Dodds 126). Her origin story is minimized and made instrumental to Bond’s narrative of resurrection. Bond demonstrates his competence through this relational exchange that ultimately legitimizes Moneypenny’s removal from fieldwork by subtly endorsing MI6’s decision to reposition her in a supportive role.
The specter of Moneypenny as a threat to the stability of the existing system is foregrounded by Bond’s subsequent remark: “I’m not sure I could survive your best.” Bond’s hesitation is soon mitigated by his insistence that “[Fieldwork’s] not for everyone” in response to Moneypenny’s enthusiasm for returning to the field. This dialogue represents an indeterminate power relation between Bond and Moneypenny, while also demonstrating Bond’s role as ideological disciplinarian who represents and verbally sanctions Moneypenny’s repositioning by MI6. By diminishing her capabilities as a field agent, Bond’s dialogue acts as a form of disciplinary realignment that suggests Moneypenny does not have the skills or prowess to “hold her own” in the field. Furthermore, Bond’s quip implicitly suggests that, while Moneypenny may not be suited for the field, Bond himself will inevitably “bounce back,” effectively proving his own resilience and naturalizing his “right” to the field.
RACE, GENDER, AND THE ACT OF “SERVICING” BOND
Moneypenny’s acceptance of the buddy role is made visible in China where she and Bond have been sent to investigate Patrice’s gambling chip. At the beginning of the scene, Bond is shown topless, shaving in a mirror with a straight razor. Moneypenny arrives at Bond’s hotel room, announcing “room service” in a sultry voice. Bond responds, “I didn’t order anything. Not even you.” This exchange establishes Moneypenny’s ability and willingness to “service” Bond, reinforcing the dynamic of “power and subservience” that Yvonne Tasker associates with the biracial buddy narrative (Spectacular 36).
The film’s positioning of Moneypenny in a servicing role is reminiscent of other Bond films that reinforce this power dynamic between Bond and women who become “helpers,” sometimes in more ways than one. In You Only Live Twice (Lewis Gilbert 1967), Bond is brought to the home of Tiger Tanaka where he advises Bond to “place himself entirely in [the] hands” of a group of silent Japanese women who bathe and provide him with a massage. During the bath scene, Tanaka boasts about the submissiveness of Japanese women, noting that English women would not be equally willing to service men in this way. Bond responds with “I think I know one or two who may get around to it” to which Tanaka replies, “Miss Moneypenny, perhaps?” This mention of Moneypenny reflects her role as an administrative support but also anticipates her more “physical” role as a helper to Bond in Skyfall, where she—like Tanaka’s Japanese helpers—aids Bond in the maintenance of his body, and helps facilitate Bond’s resurrection as the hypermasculine action hero. The connection between these scenes is emphasized by the use of orientalized settings: Tanaka’s Japanese home and Bond’s Macau hotel styled to reflect “traditional” Chinese architecture.
The orientalized setting serves to frame Moneypenny as a passive helper, further legitimizing her professional transition. Moneypenny’s willingness to acclimate herself to her new position is particularly visible when she announces that she “has some new information,” only for Bond to quip back, “aren’t you a little overqualified to be delivering messages?” Moneypenny responds, “It’s all part of the learning curve.” By enthusiastically submitting to her new role, Skyfall reasserts that black characters can indeed gain the upper hand by way of their acceptance of white terms (Guerrero 244). The franchise reinforces this idea by frequently representing black women as duplicitous and/or animalistic, and therefore requiring discipline through violence and/ or ideological repositioning. Black women are usually revealed to be helpers insofar as it furthers their own goals. Although there are examples in the franchise of Asian women who initially serve as helpers and are later revealed to be double agents—such as the Chinese CSI agent disguised as a masseuse in Die Another Day (Lee Tamahori 2002)—representations of Asian women in the franchise alternate between Bond Girl helpers and passive servers. In comparison, black women, up until the casting of Halle Berry as Bond Girl Jinx Johnson in Die Another Day, were usually represented as duplicitous, violent, or deviant. Despite the initial introduction of Rosie Carver in Live and Let Die (Guy Hamilton 1973) as a CIA ally, she is revealed to be a double-agent who is actually leading Bond into the villain’s trap. After being called “a liar and a cheat,” Carver is killed by one of her boss’ traps. In A View to a Kill (John Glen 1985), May Day is represented as a monstrous female: she is unapologetically violent, has superhuman strength, and seduces Bond by jumping on top of him and taking control. Although she switches allegiances at the conclusion of the film, helping Bond and sacrificing her life in the process, she remains coded as animalistic, non-human, and deviant. These black women are reduced to stereotypes; both are hyper-sexualized and represented as duplicitous and violent. Although Moneypenny does find a place in the British secret service, she can only do so by “fully internaliz[ing] the values” of that class (Guerrero 244) whose very power depends on the ongoing marginalization of women and racial Others. By reframing her within the conventions of the orientalized “helper,” Skyfall effectively differentiates Moneypenny from the “deviant” and self-serving black women previously featured in the franchise.
Moneypenny’s ability and willingness to serve Bond is also made visible when she finishes shaving his face with the cut-throat razor. When he hands her the razor, Moneypenny asks, “Are you putting your life in my hands again?” The answer is a resounding “yes” from Bond, who responds by attempting to unbutton her blouse. The scene is appropriately tense, employing the metaphor of the “close shave” to mirror the escalating sexual tension, the culmination of which, notably, remains off-screen, if it happened at all. The danger posed by Moneypenny not only resides in her racial “Otherness” but also in the fact that she is the person who previously shot him, which resulted in Bond’s “close shave” with death. The shaving scene effectively demonstrates this reorientation, as Moneypenny transforms from being an impediment to Bond’s bouncing back to becoming actively involved in what Dodds’ calls his rejuvenation (128).
DISCIPLINING EVE, INTERPELLATING MONEYPENNY
The degree to which Moneypenny is able to successfully integrate herself and indeed internalize the normative values of this society is made visible in her final confrontation with Bond. This is, significantly, also the moment when “Eve” is revealed to be “Moneypenny.” This “naming” is an act of interpellation in the Althusserian sense. Althusser writes that “all ideology hails or interpellates concrete individuals as concrete subjects” (173). Moneypenny’s official naming signifies her recognition and integration within the dominant social order as a “properly situated” subject. This naming brings her into being as the “proper” Moneypenny, confirming that she has been successfully disciplined and domesticated, and, by extension, has been properly “constituted as a subject” (Althusser 171) by and within the dominant ideology. The moment that audiences “recognize” Moneypenny via her official introduction to Bond is simultaneously the moment that signals her ideological interpellation and ability to be recognized and confirmed within the system.
The success of Moneypenny’s disciplining is reinforced by the scene when she passes on M’s legacy to Bond. Prior to this moment, audiences see Bond standing on the roof of MI6 headquarters, surveying the streets of London below. In the background, directly above his head, a British flag flies in the wind, demonstrating the longevity and strength of the nation and Bond’s role as its representative. Moneypenny greets Bond on the roof of MI6 headquarters after M’s death, holding out a box. When Bond opens the box, he finds the vintage British bulldog figurine that M kept on her desk, the item that M left to him in her will. Moneypenny jokes, “Maybe it was her way of telling you to take a desk job.” Bond responds, “Just the opposite.” Here, Moneypenny literally passes on “good” British virtues in the form of the figurine, which represents—as does Bond himself—the survival and maintenance of traditional British values. These values are embodied in the figurine and Bond: both are “old dog[s] with new tricks” capable of surviving even when M herself cannot. The good lines of Britishness survive and live on, as embodied in Bond’s fit, white, hypermasculine body, and the tarnished façade of the porcelain bulldog that, inexplicably, survived the earlier terrorist attack on MI6. Bond has demonstrated that he is capable of “bouncing back,” and the white male hero has proven himself resilient (Dodds 128). Once again, the narrative positioning of Moneypenny reveals that her value lies in her role as an intermediary between lead (white) characters whose centrality to the narrative and to the action does not challenge the normative system. The bulldog, if we can call it a gift, sharply contrasts Moneypenny’s first, initial “gift” to Bond: the transgressive shot itself. What Moneypenny gives to Bond here is precisely the confirmation of her submission to the dominant order. She has receded from view as an action hero in the field; by stepping aside or behind the scenes, Bond’s narrative of reconstitution can come to completion. She has learned her place and is now recognizable as the Moneypenny that audiences have come to know and love.
This is not to say that earlier depictions of Moneypenny are all equally problematic, nor are all earlier depictions of Moneypenny equally submissive. As Tara Brabazon writes, “Miss Moneypenny performs a mode of femininity outside of marriage, fidelity and the private sphere […] she is neither a safely sexual nor predictably patriarchal performer. She remains a bitch, a demanding woman who cannot be trusted” (490). Lois Maxwell’s performance as Moneypenny in the earlier Bond films—from Dr. No (Terence Young 1962) to You Only Live Twice—articulates her role as a “semiotic suffragette: probing and questioning the limits of women’s sexual and societal roles” (Brabazon 492). Although she remains “helplessly romantic” and desperate “for a golden wedding ring,” she “actively pursues her quarry” (ibid. 491). This ambiguous albeit more equitable flirtation between Bond and Moneypenny begins to change with Moonraker (Lewis Gilbert 1979) and Octopussy (John Glen 1983). In these films, Moneypenny is represented as a vain and desexualized spinster figure (Brabazon 493). This depiction of Moneypenny as either a desexualized mothering figure or desperate and doting admirer of Bond continues until the refreshing revamping of the character by Samantha Bond in the Brosnan-era Bond films from GoldenEye (Martin Campbell 1995) to Die Another Day. Samantha Bond’s performance of Moneypenny as a strong and attractive yet sexually unattainable woman capable of calling out Bond on his misogynistic antics is, in some ways, a more progressive depiction of Moneypenny than what Skyfall provides. Taking Skyfall as the chronological precursor to Dr. No, Skyfall’s disciplining and domestication of Moneypenny is logical insofar as it establishes a smooth transition between the films by demonstrating how “Eve” transforms into the “proper” Moneypenny: the Moneypenny behind the desk.
The representation of Eve Moneypenny in Skyfall leaves much to be desired, even if Naomie Harris’ performance reveals a Moneypenny who is, at least initially, more active and independent than many of the earlier depictions. Instead of reimagining the character of Moneypenny to the extent that Bond has been reimagined since Casino Royale, Skyfall reinscribes Moneypenny as a character who must remain behind the scenes. Despite Skyfall’s casting of Moneypenny as a black British woman who initially possesses increased agency and professional autonomy, this progressive representation is mitigated by Moneypenny’s disciplining and domestication, which acts as a warning to viewers regarding the limited potential of people of color and women to achieve professional and social mobility. Notably, Brabazon writes that it is “when the feminist movement was radical and active in the public domain [that] the representations of Moneypenny were at their most repressive ad disapproving […] transform[ing] the supersecretary into a warning beacon for ageing women” (493). In the same manner, Skyfall’s representation of the disciplining and domestication of Moneypenny can be conceptualized as a didactic tool intended to reinforce racial and gendered hierarchies within an increasingly pluralized society in general and in postcolonial Britain more specifically. Moneypenny’s disciplining in Skyfall, therefore, instructs audiences on how to maintain “proper” racial, sexual, and gendered hierarchies within a contemporary cultural context. Skyfall’s narrative of discipline and domestication acts as a warning to those who, like Moneypenny herself, may be tempted to transgress. After all, “fieldwork’s not for everyone” as some must learn to be content with remaining behind the scenes.