Third James Bond film. Lots to enjoy this time around, not least a strong storyline with a clear narrative arc. The Aston Martin DB5 is iconic and looks stunning on those winding mountain roads. Shirley Eaton’s death by gold paint remains memorable. There are convincing villains in the form of the hat-throwing OddJob (Harold Sakata) and the blandly evil Goldfinger (Gert Fröbe). There’s an amusingly extended golfing scene that seems more about macho one-upmanship than anything else. There’s the absurdly named Pussy Galore (Honor Blackman) leading a daft flying circus of glamorous girls who drop poison gas from tiny planes above Fort Knox.
This line from Sean Connery stood out as jarring and extraordinary: “My dear girl, there are some things that just aren't done, such as drinking Dom Perignon ’53 above the temperature of 38 degrees Fahrenheit. That's just as bad as listening to The Beatles without earmuffs!” Clearly Bond was pitched at the parents, and not at the kids. He was still part of the old order.
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