It was a mistake to put James Bond in a yellow spacesuit for "Moonraker," the 11th of the Ian Fleming spy films. The popular modern male success figure, the man with the unlimited expense account who can order every gadget in the catalogue and toss it away after use (women being merey one sub-category of equipment, and not the most complicated) - needs tailor's help to sustain the illusion.

In his expensive suits, James Bond, played for the fourth time by Roger Moore, merely looks nouveau riche . You know that he's not in the spy business for any love of country, or even adventure, but because it takes him to such high-class places and lets him mix with such a high class of people. "High-class" would be the way he would phrase it. If you sat next to him at a dinner party, he would talk in a supercilious way all evening about the quality of the wine.

Out in space, however, the poor man looks lost. If his good looks have a certain sleazy dash as he chases through Venice ("Of course you're staying at the Danielli") or Rio ("This is the Presidential Suite, sir"), they disappear in outer space, where his talent for mechanical improvisation doesn't compensate for astronaut training. And, as his tailor would surely have told him, a space suit ages one, as people are used to seeing them worn by the very young.

There he is, however, chasing a villain with even more vulgar tastes than his own, and a worse tailor. Not content with living in a California-French chateau with his own all-girl space-training program, this wretch, played by michael Lonsdale looking like an unwell Brezhnev, wants to destroy the world and found a new one out there. So our man, who has been showing us how clever he is at the helm of trick boats, including an amphibious gondola, has to trek out there, with the assistance of a mere CIA agent, played by the charmless Lois Chiles, because she can pilot spacecraft.

It is sad that the classiest person with whom poor Bond is associated these days is his enemy, a man who is 7' 2" and wears solid braces with no teeth in them. This character, Jaws, played by Richard Kiel, has a certain humble appeal. Maybe it's his white wash-and-wear shirts.