This film is essentially James Bond for morons. It is truly amazing that the filmmakers could stoop to such lows in producing this incredibly elephantine exercise in idiocy. There is plenty of blame to go around, but most of it lies with director Lewis Gilbert and 'screenwriter' Christopher Wood. I can still remember my friend Tom Johnson at the opening night of this film in our home town. He kept yelling at the screen, "You can't do that!" -- but to no avail. The producers of this garbage go way too far in their arrogance against the Fleming formula and in their outright contempt for the audience. How this film grossed so much money is beyond me. Suffice it to say that the gene pool is dwindling at an alarming rate. MOONRAKER's total box office gross would not be surpassed until the release of GOLDENEYE sixteen years later! The script for this film is a solo effort on Christopher Wood's part. As I mentioned in my previous review, Wood is nothing more than a writer of British porno pulps. In short, Mr. Wood doesn't contemplate passages from Proust in his spare time. The sexual innuendo in MOONRAKER is the sniggering, juvenile kind found on bathroom walls. Case in point: the heroine's name in this film. In the Ian Fleming novel, the heroine's actual name is Gala Brand and Bond doesn't seduce her. Need I say more?