Image copyright © by Marcus Trahan

In Like Flint


Some movies age better than others. This one has aged catastrophically. I remember sort of liking it, though as a sequel to Our Man Flint it was distinctly inferior. It is populated almost exclusively by Playboy bunny-playmate types. That’s probably why I liked it. I’ll admit it, I was a devotee of Hefner’s rag back then, and I won’t pretend it was just for the stories and articles, okay? I was young. There is a bare-bones plot about a feminist conspiracy to take over the world via a beauty products company something like Mary Kay. And yes, I realize it was meant as a satire of the more outrageous aspects of James Bond movies, but it’s not even funny anymore, just lame.