Muscle Arm Cartoon

Sunday, February 2nd 2020. | Sample Templates

Muscle Arm Cartoon- image of cartoon muscle arm, muscle arm cartoon, muscle arm cartoon transparent, cartoon picture of muscle arm, muscle arm cartoon picture, muscle arm cartoon image, cartoon of muscle arm, muscular arm cartoon, cartoon black and white muscle arm, cartoon arm muscle image,
cartoon hard muscle strong arm boxer
Cartoon Hard Muscle Strong Arm Boxer Stock Vector (Royalty Free … from Muscle Arm Cartoon, source:Shutterstock
png zwo3nz
Hand Cartoon from Muscle Arm Cartoon, source:subpng
cartoon vector illustration of strong muscular arm biceps colored and black outlines image ml
Cartoon vector illustration of strong, muscular arm, biceps … from Muscle Arm Cartoon, source:Alamy
muscle arm icon clipart biceps puter icons musc hptkgb
Hand Cartoon clipart – Muscle, Black, Silhouette, transparent clip art from Muscle Arm Cartoon, source:Kissclipart
strong arms with contracted biceps muscle in cartoon style image ml
Strong arms with contracted biceps. Muscle in cartoon style Stock … from Muscle Arm Cartoon, source:Alamy
muscle arm hand icon cartoon style
✓ Muscle arm hand icon. Cartoon of muscle arm hand vector icon … from Muscle Arm Cartoon, source:WDRfree
cartoon of the bodybuilder flexing his muscles
592 Cartoon Of The Bodybuilder Flexing His Muscles Illustrations … from Muscle Arm Cartoon, source:iStock
stock photos muscle hand vector cartoon illustration image
Muscle hand stock illustration. Illustration of bodybuilder – 33229033 from Muscle Arm Cartoon, source:Dreamstime.com

The Evolution of James Bond’s Body, From Sean Connery to Daniel Craig

Finding himself opposite a fully naval-uniformed Commander James Bond was particularly surreal for Simon Waterson, who’d only just left his post as a physical training instructor in 845 Naval Air Commando Squadron. Should he stand to attention?

These days, the idea that a rookie PT might receive an out-of-the-blue phone call to go to Pinewood Studios in Buckinghamshire, 20 miles west of London, and audition for a supporting role with the world’s least secret agent is as far-fetched as an invisible Aston Martin.

But this was a different time: 1997. And this was a different Bond: not Daniel Craig, arguably the most A-list of the V-shaped clients whose bodies Waterson would go on to transform: Chris Evans for 2011’s Captain America, Chris Pratt for 2014’s Guardians Of The Galaxy, all the Chrises, plus a Tom (Hiddleston), Jake (Gyllenhaal) and Benedict (Cumberbatch).

This Bond was the rather more lithe Pierce Brosnan, then filming Tomorrow Never Dies, his second outing in the tux (by Brioni). And there was “no really big aesthetic brief” for new recruit Waterson, now a veteran of seven Bond films and over 20 years on the franchise: “We weren’t in an era of Marvel superhero physiques.”

Brosnan’s third Bond film, 1999’s The World is Not Enough, presented some particular demands: lunges and other ski-type movements for the mountain sequences; agility, hand-eye speed, coordination and ducking under pipes for the fight with Robert Carlyle’s terrorist Renard aboard a sinking submarine. But mostly the order of the day was “generic fitness”, says Waterson. Be a training partner for Brosnan to lift weights and cycle with. Warm him up before strenuous scenes and cool him down after. Feed, water and supplement him. Maintain his energy. Stop him getting ill or injured.

Dislocating his collar bone after falling from a hot air balloon, Bond does get injured in the pre-credits sequence of The World is Not Enough – a franchise first for the hitherto remarkably unscathed character, but not the leading man. On Tomorrow Never Dies, Brosnan’s face required eight stitches after being cut by a stuntman’s helmet; the crew shot his good side. On 2002’s Die Another Day, while sprinting between explosions during the filming of the pre-credits hovercraft chase, his knee blew up. Filming was delayed – another franchise first – for seven days, while he flew to the US for surgery. Producers Michael G Wilson and Barbara Broccoli likened the incident to “a super-athlete getting hurt”, while Brosnan’s recovery was “almost bionic”. The Evolution of James Bond’s Body, From Sean Connery to Daniel Craig

Finding himself opposite a fully naval-uniformed Commander James Bond was particularly surreal for Simon Waterson, who’d only just left his post as a physical training instructor in 845 Naval Air Commando Squadron. Should he stand to attention?

These days, the idea that a rookie PT might receive an out-of-the-blue phone call to go to Pinewood Studios in Buckinghamshire, 20 miles west of London, and audition for a supporting role with the world’s least secret agent is as far-fetched as an invisible Aston Martin.

But this was a different time: 1997. And this was a different Bond: not Daniel Craig, arguably the most A-list of the V-shaped clients whose bodies Waterson would go on to transform: Chris Evans for 2011’s Captain America, Chris Pratt for 2014’s Guardians Of The Galaxy, all the Chrises, plus a Tom (Hiddleston), Jake (Gyllenhaal) and Benedict (Cumberbatch).

This Bond was the rather more lithe Pierce Brosnan, then filming Tomorrow Never Dies, his second outing in the tux (by Brioni). And there was “no really big aesthetic brief” for new recruit Waterson, now a veteran of seven Bond films and over 20 years on the franchise: “We weren’t in an era of Marvel superhero physiques.”

Brosnan’s third Bond film, 1999’s The World is Not Enough, presented some particular demands: lunges and other ski-type movements for the mountain sequences; agility, hand-eye speed, coordination and ducking under pipes for the fight with Robert Carlyle’s terrorist Renard aboard a sinking submarine. But mostly the order of the day was “generic fitness”, says Waterson. Be a training partner for Brosnan to lift weights and cycle with. Warm him up before strenuous scenes and cool him down after. Feed, water and supplement him. Maintain his energy. Stop him getting ill or injured.

Dislocating his collar bone after falling from a hot air balloon, Bond does get injured in the pre-credits sequence of The World is Not Enough – a franchise first for the hitherto remarkably unscathed character, but not the leading man. On Tomorrow Never Dies, Brosnan’s face required eight stitches after being cut by a stuntman’s helmet; the crew shot his good side. On 2002’s Die Another Day, while sprinting between explosions during the filming of the pre-credits hovercraft chase, his knee blew up. Filming was delayed – another franchise first – for seven days, while he flew to the US for surgery. Producers Michael G Wilson and Barbara Broccoli likened the incident to “a super-athlete getting hurt”, while Brosnan’s recovery was “almost bionic”. This content is imported from YouTube. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site.

Making Bond films was “great fun”, Brosnan later said, but also “bloody hard work”, lamenting that an action scene could take weeks to film without him uttering a line of dialogue. By contrast, Roger Moore’s tenure had, a longstanding Bond crew member told Brosnan, been “a good old laugh”.

Die Another Day was deluged with CGI in an attempt to keep up with other blockbusters, and that paid off at the box office. But the highest-grossing Bond film to date was widely ridiculed for such cartoonishness as the Aston Martin “Vanish” and the undignified spectacle of a badly superimposed Brosnan surfing an ice tsunami. (For the pre-credits beach landing, he was body-doubled by surfer Laird Hamilton.) Nevertheless, Brosnan, a commercially successful and much-liked Bond, understandably expected to return for 2006’s Casino Royale, which would’ve been bang on the mid-Naughties trend for middle-aged action heroes: Rocky, Rambo, Indiana Jones, John McClane. Until, that is, a creative handbrake turn jettisoned the near-50-year-old like an unsuspecting DB5 passenger.

“Look, this game’s changing fast,” Lee Tamahori, Die Another Day’s director, told the Bond producers after a screening of The Bourne Identity with its raw stunts. “You’re going to have to rethink this.” An undercover source at Bond production company Eon cited “the opportunity to re-energise the franchise and take it to even greater heights.” This content is imported from YouTube. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site.

Making Bond films was “great fun”, Brosnan later said, but also “bloody hard work”, lamenting that an action scene could take weeks to film without him uttering a line of dialogue. By contrast, Roger Moore’s tenure had, a longstanding Bond crew member told Brosnan, been “a good old laugh”.

Die Another Day was deluged with CGI in an attempt to keep up with other blockbusters, and that paid off at the box office. But the highest-grossing Bond film to date was widely ridiculed for such cartoonishness as the Aston Martin “Vanish” and the undignified spectacle of a badly superimposed Brosnan surfing an ice tsunami. (For the pre-credits beach landing, he was body-doubled by surfer Laird Hamilton.) Nevertheless, Brosnan, a commercially successful and much-liked Bond, understandably expected to return for 2006’s Casino Royale, which would’ve been bang on the mid-Naughties trend for middle-aged action heroes: Rocky, Rambo, Indiana Jones, John McClane. Until, that is, a creative handbrake turn jettisoned the near-50-year-old like an unsuspecting DB5 passenger.

“Look, this game’s changing fast,” Lee Tamahori, Die Another Day’s director, told the Bond producers after a screening of The Bourne Identity with its raw stunts. “You’re going to have to rethink this.” An undercover source at Bond production company Eon cited “the opportunity to re-energise the franchise and take it to even greater heights.” Greg WilliamsGetty Images

At 36, Craig was considerably younger than Brosnan had been when, at 42, he was cast in 1995’s GoldenEye. And Craig, says Waterson, came with “a very clear brief” aesthetically. “I said, ‘Look, I’ve got to look like I can kill somebody,’” Craig told an interviewer. “If I take my shirt off, it’s not: ‘Oh, nice body.’ It’s got to be: ‘Oh, fucking hell, he could do somebody.’ I wanted to look like I could do everything Bond does.”

That shot in Casino Royale of Craig’s Bond emerging from the sea in his light-blue La Perlas was a defining moment of muscular definition in the near-60-year-old franchise. Protein-shaken and stirring, his pumped pecs unobscured by any Austin Powers shagpile, Craig unveiled a radically new body image for his rougher, tougher, buffer 007. Greg WilliamsGetty Images

At 36, Craig was considerably younger than Brosnan had been when, at 42, he was cast in 1995’s GoldenEye. And Craig, says Waterson, came with “a very clear brief” aesthetically. “I said, ‘Look, I’ve got to look like I can kill somebody,’” Craig told an interviewer. “If I take my shirt off, it’s not: ‘Oh, nice body.’ It’s got to be: ‘Oh, fucking hell, he could do somebody.’ I wanted to look like I could do everything Bond does.”

That shot in Casino Royale of Craig’s Bond emerging from the sea in his light-blue La Perlas was a defining moment of muscular definition in the near-60-year-old franchise. Protein-shaken and stirring, his pumped pecs unobscured by any Austin Powers shagpile, Craig unveiled a radically new body image for his rougher, tougher, buffer 007. This content is imported from YouTube. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site.

“In the way that Dr No was remembered for Ursula Andress coming out of the sea in her bikini, I suspect that Casino Royale will go down as the film where Daniel Craig walked on to a beach in tight swimming trunks,” actor and Young Bond novelist Charlie Higson said presciently. He speculated the “fantastic image” could change the history of British cinema by ushering in a new golden age of homegrown tough-guy action heroes in the mould of Richard Burton and Stanley Baker, and sweeping away “wimps like Jude Law and Orlando Bloom”. Even Moore “never looked like much of a threat to man nor woman”.

Craig’s rig made waves in other ways. He “was a much more physical Bond and his tailoring and wardrobe reflected this”, costume designer Lindy Hemming, who’d joined the franchise with GoldenEye, told the authors of the book Some Kind of Hero: The Remarkable Story of the James Bond Films. And having watched Craig in action on set, composer Dave Arnold, who’d joined the franchise on Tomorrow Never Dies, felt Casino Royale’s title song “needed to be something much more muscular” than the usual “glorious velvet curtain”. Soundgarden frontman Chris Cornell, who co-wrote and performed “You Know My Name”, had a voice that, like Craig, “could kick a wall down”.

Craig didn’t just want to look like he could do everything Bond does: he wanted, as far as possible, to do it. “Of course, I didn’t do all the stunts,” he said. “The insurance company won’t let me. But at a certain stage in every stunt, you see it is me.”

The stunts Craig performed were “on a completely different level” from previous Bonds, says Waterson. He conditioned the necessary athleticism and “functioning muscle” by training the actor, a rugby player in his youth, like an athlete, allying protocols borrowed from the sports arena with his military experience and combining classic compound exercises with drills specifically devised for the scenes in question. So Bond climbing over a fence and landing in sand while chasing freerunner Sébastian Foucan’s bombmaker Mollaka through a construction site became pull-ups, box jumps and sprints.

“Organic” action – seeing things done on camera “for real” and only using visual effects to enhance them – was the flavour of the month, says Ben Cooke, a British-born, New Zealand-raised stunt performer, coordinator and director who body-doubled Craig on his first three Bond films. Also a frequent body double for Jason Statham, and something of a double-act with Waterson (at the time of speaking, they’re working together again on Jurassic World 3: Dominion), Cooke jokes that he was “006-and-a-half” and has a cameo in Casino Royale as the MI6 agent who tasers suspected double-crosser Mathis.

A term that, like Cooke, still gets thrown about today, organic action was, he says, one of Casino Royale’s “major successes”. He shot the bruising pre-credits bathroom fight in London then flew to the Bahamas for the spectacular construction site parkour, which took six weeks to film. The guy who was supposed to do the vertiginous crane-to-crane jump got injured in rehearsal, so the job fell to Cooke, with no more time left to rehearse. He did two takes; on the second, the helicopter camera jammed and had to be reset. The resulting delay stood alone atop the crane, looking down and speculating about his safety wire’s strength, was “the longest 15 minutes of my life”. There was also a 38cm by 71cm landing platform, digitally removed later, but still: “It was quite major.” This content is imported from YouTube. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site.

“In the way that Dr No was remembered for Ursula Andress coming out of the sea in her bikini, I suspect that Casino Royale will go down as the film where Daniel Craig walked on to a beach in tight swimming trunks,” actor and Young Bond novelist Charlie Higson said presciently. He speculated the “fantastic image” could change the history of British cinema by ushering in a new golden age of homegrown tough-guy action heroes in the mould of Richard Burton and Stanley Baker, and sweeping away “wimps like Jude Law and Orlando Bloom”. Even Moore “never looked like much of a threat to man nor woman”.

Craig’s rig made waves in other ways. He “was a much more physical Bond and his tailoring and wardrobe reflected this”, costume designer Lindy Hemming, who’d joined the franchise with GoldenEye, told the authors of the book Some Kind of Hero: The Remarkable Story of the James Bond Films. And having watched Craig in action on set, composer Dave Arnold, who’d joined the franchise on Tomorrow Never Dies, felt Casino Royale’s title song “needed to be something much more muscular” than the usual “glorious velvet curtain”. Soundgarden frontman Chris Cornell, who co-wrote and performed “You Know My Name”, had a voice that, like Craig, “could kick a wall down”.

Craig didn’t just want to look like he could do everything Bond does: he wanted, as far as possible, to do it. “Of course, I didn’t do all the stunts,” he said. “The insurance company won’t let me. But at a certain stage in every stunt, you see it is me.”

The stunts Craig performed were “on a completely different level” from previous Bonds, says Waterson. He conditioned the necessary athleticism and “functioning muscle” by training the actor, a rugby player in his youth, like an athlete, allying protocols borrowed from the sports arena with his military experience and combining classic compound exercises with drills specifically devised for the scenes in question. So Bond climbing over a fence and landing in sand while chasing freerunner Sébastian Foucan’s bombmaker Mollaka through a construction site became pull-ups, box jumps and sprints.

“Organic” action – seeing things done on camera “for real” and only using visual effects to enhance them – was the flavour of the month, says Ben Cooke, a British-born, New Zealand-raised stunt performer, coordinator and director who body-doubled Craig on his first three Bond films. Also a frequent body double for Jason Statham, and something of a double-act with Waterson (at the time of speaking, they’re working together again on Jurassic World 3: Dominion), Cooke jokes that he was “006-and-a-half” and has a cameo in Casino Royale as the MI6 agent who tasers suspected double-crosser Mathis.

A term that, like Cooke, still gets thrown about today, organic action was, he says, one of Casino Royale’s “major successes”. He shot the bruising pre-credits bathroom fight in London then flew to the Bahamas for the spectacular construction site parkour, which took six weeks to film. The guy who was supposed to do the vertiginous crane-to-crane jump got injured in rehearsal, so the job fell to Cooke, with no more time left to rehearse. He did two takes; on the second, the helicopter camera jammed and had to be reset. The resulting delay stood alone atop the crane, looking down and speculating about his safety wire’s strength, was “the longest 15 minutes of my life”. There was also a 38cm by 71cm landing platform, digitally removed later, but still: “It was quite major.” This content is imported from YouTube. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site.

Cooke also doubled Craig for the digger-to-train jump on Skyfall, which was supposed to be on wires but, due to time pressures, he performed untethered. Over his career, Cooke has broken his hands multiple times and an ankle, undergone knee surgeries and accumulated general wear and tear, but he’s managed to avoid serious injury on Bond films. They do put you “through the ringer” though: “It’s tough, and it’s tough for Daniel.”

Craig’s Bond injury history includes eight stitches in his face after being kicked, bruising his ribs and tearing his shoulder, an old wound that necessitated six metal pins – all on 2008’s Quantum Of Solace, which also claimed the tip – well, the pad – of his fourth finger on his right hand. On Casino Royale, a fight knocked out two of his teeth. On 2015’s Spectre, former wrestler Dave Bautista’s Mr Hinx sprained Craig’s knee throwing him against a wall; filming continued around the injury but later shut down for two weeks while he underwent surgery that restricted him from running, and the pre-credits sequence had to be rejigged so Bond walked in pursuit of his quarry (because police were watching). On No Time To Die, Craig fractured his left ankle, which forced him to take a fortnight off filming. Despite that, he was back in the gym the next week wearing an Aircast. Stuntmen perform on a helicopter in 2015 for Spectre This content is imported from YouTube. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site.

Cooke also doubled Craig for the digger-to-train jump on Skyfall, which was supposed to be on wires but, due to time pressures, he performed untethered. Over his career, Cooke has broken his hands multiple times and an ankle, undergone knee surgeries and accumulated general wear and tear, but he’s managed to avoid serious injury on Bond films. They do put you “through the ringer” though: “It’s tough, and it’s tough for Daniel.”

Craig’s Bond injury history includes eight stitches in his face after being kicked, bruising his ribs and tearing his shoulder, an old wound that necessitated six metal pins – all on 2008’s Quantum Of Solace, which also claimed the tip – well, the pad – of his fourth finger on his right hand. On Casino Royale, a fight knocked out two of his teeth. On 2015’s Spectre, former wrestler Dave Bautista’s Mr Hinx sprained Craig’s knee throwing him against a wall; filming continued around the injury but later shut down for two weeks while he underwent surgery that restricted him from running, and the pre-credits sequence had to be rejigged so Bond walked in pursuit of his quarry (because police were watching). On No Time To Die, Craig fractured his left ankle, which forced him to take a fortnight off filming. Despite that, he was back in the gym the next week wearing an Aircast. Stuntmen perform on a helicopter in 2015 for Spectre Hector VivasGetty Images

Recovery is “the most important part” of a leading man’s regime, says Waterson, who will proactively take advantage of, say, a ten-minute break in filming to massage a calf so he doesn’t have to tack an hour of bodywork onto the end of what is already a 12-hour day for Craig. Although reports that the actor worked out for 12 hours a day for No Time To Die were greatly exaggerated. “That’s, what, the equivalent of four marathons,” laughs Waterson.

Pre-production for an actor is a bit like pre-season for a footballer: all about getting fit. But once “the season” starts, staying fit, AKA recovery, is the name of the game. Filming is an endurance test: 12 hours a day, five or six days a week, for six or seven months. “It’s brutal,” says Waterson – and he’s ex-military. He welcomes technical faults as a chance to get Craig back to his trailer, fuel him up and stretch him out. Waterson always has “eyes on” in case Craig forgets to eat, feeding him an anti-inflammatory, probiotic diet (turmeric, ginger, kimchi) and tweaking his macros daily: more carbs for energy if the shooting schedule is action-packed, more protein for recovery if it’s dialogue-heavy.

The prep required to get through all that in one piece (or not) is, says Waterson, “absolutely insane”. And you can’t act being in shape, aesthetically or otherwise: “You can only be that.” While the audience only sees actors performing action scenes once, filming is a marathon of sprints, like an athletic event held multiple times a day for two weeks in conditions and clothing that aren’t exactly conducive to sporting performance. “You try sprinting down Westminster in a suit,” says Waterson. “You’re not getting high knee lift.” He’ll train clients in ankle weights or weighted jackets to mimic awkward costumes.

Aesthetic shape, says Waterson, is “just a byproduct” of great athletic performance – a happy accident like Casino Royale’s now iconic emerging-from-the-sea scene, which Craig later said was unintentional, caused by an awkwardly sited sand bank. “It wasn’t completely conscious that he was going to look like that,” says Waterson. “But the way it was going, and the way he was transforming – I didn’t have to tweak that much.” Hector VivasGetty Images

Recovery is “the most important part” of a leading man’s regime, says Waterson, who will proactively take advantage of, say, a ten-minute break in filming to massage a calf so he doesn’t have to tack an hour of bodywork onto the end of what is already a 12-hour day for Craig. Although reports that the actor worked out for 12 hours a day for No Time To Die were greatly exaggerated. “That’s, what, the equivalent of four marathons,” laughs Waterson.

Pre-production for an actor is a bit like pre-season for a footballer: all about getting fit. But once “the season” starts, staying fit, AKA recovery, is the name of the game. Filming is an endurance test: 12 hours a day, five or six days a week, for six or seven months. “It’s brutal,” says Waterson – and he’s ex-military. He welcomes technical faults as a chance to get Craig back to his trailer, fuel him up and stretch him out. Waterson always has “eyes on” in case Craig forgets to eat, feeding him an anti-inflammatory, probiotic diet (turmeric, ginger, kimchi) and tweaking his macros daily: more carbs for energy if the shooting schedule is action-packed, more protein for recovery if it’s dialogue-heavy.

The prep required to get through all that in one piece (or not) is, says Waterson, “absolutely insane”. And you can’t act being in shape, aesthetically or otherwise: “You can only be that.” While the audience only sees actors performing action scenes once, filming is a marathon of sprints, like an athletic event held multiple times a day for two weeks in conditions and clothing that aren’t exactly conducive to sporting performance. “You try sprinting down Westminster in a suit,” says Waterson. “You’re not getting high knee lift.” He’ll train clients in ankle weights or weighted jackets to mimic awkward costumes.

Aesthetic shape, says Waterson, is “just a byproduct” of great athletic performance – a happy accident like Casino Royale’s now iconic emerging-from-the-sea scene, which Craig later said was unintentional, caused by an awkwardly sited sand bank. “It wasn’t completely conscious that he was going to look like that,” says Waterson. “But the way it was going, and the way he was transforming – I didn’t have to tweak that much.” This content is imported from Instagram. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site.

The aesthetic also has to be “relevant” to the character. There’s a perceptible physical progression, says Waterson, from the “blunt instrument” of Casino Royale to sharper and more refined in Quantum of Solace to the low point of Skyfall and back up. Bond can’t be down and out at a beach bar looking like he’s been slamming protein shakes, or emerge from the sea like he couldn’t hurt a fly. As loath to come over all “creative trainer” as Waterson is, “you have to be such an artist with the way you’re painting that physique”.

Craig’s body is “a product of the increasing physical demands of the role”, says Dr Lisa Funnell, an associate professor in the Women and Gender Studies Department at the University of Oklahoma, and a bona fide 007 academic. Thus Craig aligns more with “hard-body models of masculinity” popularised by Hollywood, where standards for leading men have changed over time. It’s no longer sufficient to merely look buff, as was acceptable for Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone in the Eighties. Contemporary action heroes must perform “feats of physical strength and endurance as well as complex fight choreography”. So they have to build “a fit body”, a process that, in a happy accident, provides material for promotional purposes (such as magazine profiles). This content is imported from Instagram. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site.

The aesthetic also has to be “relevant” to the character. There’s a perceptible physical progression, says Waterson, from the “blunt instrument” of Casino Royale to sharper and more refined in Quantum of Solace to the low point of Skyfall and back up. Bond can’t be down and out at a beach bar looking like he’s been slamming protein shakes, or emerge from the sea like he couldn’t hurt a fly. As loath to come over all “creative trainer” as Waterson is, “you have to be such an artist with the way you’re painting that physique”.

Craig’s body is “a product of the increasing physical demands of the role”, says Dr Lisa Funnell, an associate professor in the Women and Gender Studies Department at the University of Oklahoma, and a bona fide 007 academic. Thus Craig aligns more with “hard-body models of masculinity” popularised by Hollywood, where standards for leading men have changed over time. It’s no longer sufficient to merely look buff, as was acceptable for Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone in the Eighties. Contemporary action heroes must perform “feats of physical strength and endurance as well as complex fight choreography”. So they have to build “a fit body”, a process that, in a happy accident, provides material for promotional purposes (such as magazine profiles). Amazon Amazon Geographies, Genders and Geopolitics of James Bond Palgrave Macmillan amazon.co.uk Geographies, Genders and Geopolitics of James Bond Palgrave Macmillan amazon.co.uk £22.99

A “guarantee of the real”, the now standard-practice action-film body transformation telegraphs the actor’s commitment to the role, says Dr Funnell: “As I tell my students, if you can see their face, they’re doing the actions; if you can’t, it’s a stunt double.”

In her 2017 book Geographies, Genders and Geopolitics of James Bond, Dr Funnell writes that the Bond films have transitioned from spy thriller to action, which is a “body-focused genre”. And in her 2011 essay “I Know Where You Keep Your Gun” (Moore-style eyebrow raise), she provocatively suggests that 007 has, with Craig, transitioned to a “Bond-Bond girl hybrid”. Her hypothesis is supported by Eva Green, Vesper Lynd in Casino Royale, who replied to a Guardian interviewer’s question about Craig’s “bigger boobs”: “Well, he’s the Bond girl, not me. He’s the one who comes out of the sea with his top off.” (And, as Dr Funnell points out, it happens not once but twice.)

Craig’s Bond is “physical, heroic and thus masculine while engaged in action”, Dr Funnell writes, but he’s “feminised… relative to the gaze through the passive positioning of his exposed muscular body in scenes where he is disengaged from action”. In other words, the camera loves him – a profound shift from the “British lover” heroic tradition of the franchise’s roots to the (male) body-centred Hollywood model. Note, as Dr Funnell does, how Bond disengages from, ahem, action with Solange, who opens his shirt and kisses from his pecs down to his abs. In a reversal of roles, Solange remains clothed.

By comparison with Craig’s Bond, Brosnan’s seems almost quaintly slim. But, says Dr Funnell, he coincided with a “softening of the hard body” in the Nineties, a transitional moment when Hollywood tried to reconcile muscularity with intelligence and emotion after the brawny, brainless Eighties, variously interpreted as: a manifestation of Reaganite political ideals (eg strength, discipline, hard work); a product of the growing fitness industry and commodification of the male body; a crisis of masculinity (men who no longer need strength to survive asserting their manliness); and a backlash against feminism. The shrinking male heroes “opened up space” for more female action leads.

Even Arnie lost some gains in the Nineties as the tide turned to slimmer, younger and more uncertain leading men: Leonardo DiCaprio in 1997’s Titanic, Ben Affleck in 1998’s Armageddon (symbolically replacing Bruce Willis) and Keanu Reeves in 1999’s The Matrix. With an eye on the Asian market, Hollywood also took its lead(s) from Hong Kong martial arts films, which prized skill and speed over size, and stunts over effects. Pierce Brosnan in Goldeneye £22.99

A “guarantee of the real”, the now standard-practice action-film body transformation telegraphs the actor’s commitment to the role, says Dr Funnell: “As I tell my students, if you can see their face, they’re doing the actions; if you can’t, it’s a stunt double.”

In her 2017 book Geographies, Genders and Geopolitics of James Bond, Dr Funnell writes that the Bond films have transitioned from spy thriller to action, which is a “body-focused genre”. And in her 2011 essay “I Know Where You Keep Your Gun” (Moore-style eyebrow raise), she provocatively suggests that 007 has, with Craig, transitioned to a “Bond-Bond girl hybrid”. Her hypothesis is supported by Eva Green, Vesper Lynd in Casino Royale, who replied to a Guardian interviewer’s question about Craig’s “bigger boobs”: “Well, he’s the Bond girl, not me. He’s the one who comes out of the sea with his top off.” (And, as Dr Funnell points out, it happens not once but twice.)

Craig’s Bond is “physical, heroic and thus masculine while engaged in action”, Dr Funnell writes, but he’s “feminised… relative to the gaze through the passive positioning of his exposed muscular body in scenes where he is disengaged from action”. In other words, the camera loves him – a profound shift from the “British lover” heroic tradition of the franchise’s roots to the (male) body-centred Hollywood model. Note, as Dr Funnell does, how Bond disengages from, ahem, action with Solange, who opens his shirt and kisses from his pecs down to his abs. In a reversal of roles, Solange remains clothed.

By comparison with Craig’s Bond, Brosnan’s seems almost quaintly slim. But, says Dr Funnell, he coincided with a “softening of the hard body” in the Nineties, a transitional moment when Hollywood tried to reconcile muscularity with intelligence and emotion after the brawny, brainless Eighties, variously interpreted as: a manifestation of Reaganite political ideals (eg strength, discipline, hard work); a product of the growing fitness industry and commodification of the male body; a crisis of masculinity (men who no longer need strength to survive asserting their manliness); and a backlash against feminism. The shrinking male heroes “opened up space” for more female action leads.

Even Arnie lost some gains in the Nineties as the tide turned to slimmer, younger and more uncertain leading men: Leonardo DiCaprio in 1997’s Titanic, Ben Affleck in 1998’s Armageddon (symbolically replacing Bruce Willis) and Keanu Reeves in 1999’s The Matrix. With an eye on the Asian market, Hollywood also took its lead(s) from Hong Kong martial arts films, which prized skill and speed over size, and stunts over effects. Pierce Brosnan in Goldeneye

tags: , , , ,