Goldfinger

And then - BAM! - it was the Sixties.

There are many reasons why Bond's antics will forever carry the smirk of a middle-aged man behaving like a schoolboy. Most of them you know, instinctively. But it's telling that the films have all those neat contemporary pop-culture references. The stolen Goya in DRNO, the Margaret and Dennis cameo in FYEO - it's the old codger trying to seem up-to-date, but always being slightly behind the curve. Despite the series' popularity, it's rarely a trend setter and almost always (with the exception of Andress' bikini) a follower of fashion.

1964's Goldfinger marks the point where we start to see the Sixties on screen, just as LALD (1973) is the first Seventies Bond and AVTAK (1985 - not Moore's age at the time) is the first of the Eighties. Here things are hotting up. We get the gleaming white skyline of Miami Beach instead of old Istanbul. Out goes the pre-war Bentley (which, to be fair, looked horrifically old-fashioned in FRWL) and in comes the modern Aston Martin DB5. Whilst Bond's attaché case could have been issued by the S.O.E., now Q's loading 007 up with homing devices and GPS on microfiche. Let's not forget that the baddies are au courant as well, with nerve gas, lasers and dirty bombs up their sleeves. 

Barfly.

Everything about Goldfinger is bigger, brighter and shinier than its predecessors. The pre-credits sequence is as cool as Bond ever gets, like a mini movie all of its own. In five minutes 007 goes through a wide repertoire: frogman, saboteur, tuxedoed barfly, lover, fighter, killer. The sequence pauses to deliver the first and superlative quip and then, immaculately, Bond closes the door on the scene - a perfect piece of punctuation that allows the opening bars of the theme to crash into our ears. It's almost a shame the rest of the film has to exist because those few minutes are not only the best of Goldfinger but, arguably, of the entire series. 

So what of the rest? I'm not wrong, am I, in assuming that this is widely considered to be the definitive, the archetypal Bond film? Presumably, this is as good as it gets? Well, for me, what is good here is excellent; but there are also some truly terrible aspects and these are irredeemable. In terms of its reputation, I'd agree that this is the film that cements the Bond formula, this is the one where the production team nail it. Ken Adam is back and his set design continues to be stunning. He was refused access to the real Fort Knox vault and had to pull one from his imagination; given that, it is a marvellous set - both credible and fantastic. John Barry's music improves dramatically on FRWL: muscular and martial in the action scenes, sweepingly scenic during, for example, 007's leisurely pursuit through the Swiss Alps, occasionally playful (the Kentucky Bluegrass) and, in the case of Oddjob's chiming leitmotif, chillingly sinister. The theme is spectacular, of course, thanks to Shirley Bassey's bravura delivery, but it's married with great visuals too. Again it's Robert Brownjohn, not Maurice Binder, in charge of the credits and again there is a simple and brilliantly effective idea: scenes from the film are played over the golden skin of a model, but this is hardly the soft porn we'll put up with in later years. It's rather witty, in fact, and no more so when a golf ball is seemingly putted up the woman's arm and sinks into her cleavage.

There's plenty of wit in the script too and some lovely performances. Fröbe is excellent as Goldfinger (albeit dubbed, of course), both charming and ogreish. See how he physically twitches when he sees the gold in the vault. Honor Blackman does what she can with the little she's given, but the script actively works against her having any sort of character. More on that later. Of the guest stars, it's Harold Sakata as Oddjob who steals the show. He has no lines (other than 'Ah-ah') and is in only a few scenes, but his implacable henchmen is a joy. His smile is delightful, part Buddha, part imp. Watch him grin as Bond smashes a steel bar across his face or, most brilliantly, the way his expression changes as 007 finds the steel-edged hat during their final fight. Suddenly he is wary, his eyes narrow, his chin drops - then Bond throws and misses and the most beautiful smile spreads across Oddjob's face, like the sun coming out.

Other aspects of the formula are being perfected here. Q gets his own Branch and, brilliantly, a personality as well. The Aston Martin DB5 becomes the first Bond car (not to mention the most iconic). The golf match between Bond and Goldfinger is merely the first of many penis-measuring contests that 007 will inevitably win. Connery's Bond is clearly enjoying himself much more here, although it is at the expense of everyone else, and under the veneer of sophistication lurks much that is dark and unpleasant. If it's part of Connery's performance then it's impressive acting. Familiar elements turn up and do their stuff. There's a new Felix Leiter, albeit one utterly without charisma, but M gets a welcome extended outing, taking Bond to the Bank of England for dinner and a lecture. Unfortunately, it's 007 holding forth on brandy but at least here his expertise is still merely that of the connoisseur - soon he'll be an insufferable know-it-all on all manner of subjects.

At least Moneypenny is able to put him in his place - seizing his hat and flinging it casually onto the stand during their 'customary byplay'. Goodness knows somebody needs to cool him down because Bond's machismo is unpleasantly rampant here. Throughout the film 007 is repellently sexist. It starts with him sending his latest blonde, Dink, off with a slap on the arse and the caveman growl "Man talk," so he can gossip with Leiter. Just a few minutes later he's invading the personal space of a hotel maid to snatch a key from her skirt. She stands there aghast. "You're very sweet," he says by way of, what, apology? explanation? - it sounds just as threatening as it is patronising.

And then, finally, shockingly, there is Pussy Galore and this is where it all falls down.

Let's get this bit over and done with. You may disagree with my interpretation of events but, as far as I'm concerned, Bond rapes Ms Galore. Oh, yes he does. He propositions her in the hay barn. She refuses. Four times. Four times she verbally indicates that she is unwilling. Then there's a physical struggle (that she initiates) during which he overpowers her. Yes, cultural standards shift over time, yes this is escapist, silly James Bond but, frankly, who cares? If it was Silvio Berlusconi doing this instead of James Bond, you wouldn't hesitate for a moment to call it what it is, or to smash him in the balls with a cricket bat.

What makes this worse is that the entire film hinges on this rape. In the book, Bond passes a message to the CIA warning them of the attack. The film deviates and gives this role to Pussy Galore, but crucially she does this because Bond has made her swap sides. And how did he do that? By raping her. Furthermore, Bond does nothing during the attack on Fort Knox but kill Oddjob and stare hopelessly at a nuclear bomb - it's the US Army that fight off the Communists and disarm the device. So 007's only contribution to the successful defence of the world economy is to rape a woman so that she magically becomes a goody. That's how he beats Goldfinger. It's all fairly horrible.

But there's another layer to this, left over from the book and it's worth a look at that I think because only so much can be hinted at on screen. She's a real gangster in the book, American and - explicitly - a 'Lesbian' [sic]. Bond is disgusted to notice that Tilly Masterson, pale would-be assassin of Goldfinger, is enamoured of her.

Bond came to the conclusion that Tilly Masterson was one of those girls whose hormones had got mixed up. He knew the type well and thought they and their male counterparts were a direct consequence of giving votes to women and 'sex equality'. As a result of fifty years of emancipation, feminine qualities were dying out or being transferred to the males. Pansies of both sexes were everywhere, not yet completely homosexual, but confused, not knowing what they were. The result was a herd of unhappy sexual misfits - barren and full of frustrations, the women wanting to dominate and the men to be nannied. He was sorry for them, but he had no time for them. 

I suppose in his defence I should point out that Fleming was born in 1908; his opinions could have been even more conservative. At least in the novel Bond doesn't force himself on Galore. She just happens to be around at the end of the book. She still switches sides, but it's suggested that she's just made a pragmatic gangster's decision to throw in her lot with 007. But once Goldfinger's playing his golden harp, Bond orders her into bed and "she did as she was told, like an obedient child."

He said, "They told me you only liked women."
She said, "I never met a man before." The toughness came back into her voice. "I'm from the South. You know the definition of a virgin down there? Well, it's a girl who can run faster than her brother. In my case I couldn't run as fast as my uncle. I was twelve. That's not so good, James. You ought to be able to guess that."

So that's all right then. There's no such thing as an actual lesbian - it's just a confusion created by bad men and which can be cured by good men. Hooray for men! Ugh.

But when you watch the film with this back story playing underneath it all then the whole thing becomes even more disturbing. This is the film where James Bond saves the day by raping a bad lesbian so that she becomes a good compliant heterosexual. The icing on the cake? Bond's explanatory quip when Leiter asks him why she alerted the CIA: "I must have appealed to her maternal instincts."

What a guy.

* * *

Pre-Credits Sequence: Seagull? No it's James Bond! Grappling hook, over the wall. Kick the guard. Find the switch. Inside, squeeze the toothpaste. Set the charges. Outside. Drop. Undo top, stick fresh carnation in button hole. Into the bar. Girl does a shimmy. Light fag. Look at Rolex. KABOOM! Look suspiciously unfazed by explosion as everyone else goes crazy. Heroin-flavoured bananas. Up to the room. Girl's in the bath. Get her out. Kiss her. OUCH! Hang up gun. Kiss her again. There's something in her eye.. A capungo! Spin, thwack, odd twisty leg move, knock him into the bath. He's reaching for the gun! Flick electric - is it a heater? - into the bath. FIZZLE! Retrieve gun. Replace jacket. Glance at naked girl in towel regaining consciousness on the floor and groaning. Say "Shocking. Positively shocking." Close door. Cue Shirley. Bloody brilliant.

Theme: It's Goldfinger. It's Shirley Bassey. It's a bit of a belter.

Deaths: Well, I make it 58. But there must be load more at the battle at Fort Knox. Probably. Doesn't help when footage is reused though.

Memorable Deaths [new category!]: Plenty. Capungo in the bath. Shirley Eaton covered in gold paint. Oddjob blows a fuse. Goldfinger out the window.  

Licence to Kill: 7. Two of which are electrocutions. This means he is left flailing about for a second electric death quip once he's offed Oddjob. He doesn't come up with anything good.

Exploding Helicopters: None. There is a helicopter but, inexplicably, it doesn't explode. A plane does crash though.

Shags: 2. Yes, there's the dancing girl, and Dink, but we don't know he shagged them. He incontrovertibly goes all the way with Shirley Eaton and, for the record, she seems to be very keen on the idea too.

Crimes Against Women: An actual crime this time. Don't worry, they'll go all meta and subvert it in the next film so it's all okay. (For what it's worth, Mei-Lei could probably get him for harassment too.)

Casual Racism: The Communists' uniforms. (It's never explicitly stated if they are Chinese, like Mr Ling, or Korean, like Oddjob.) 

Out of Time: Amazingly, 007 has maps of the whole of Europe on his homing device. That's a lot of microfiche for 1964 but as a gadget it's rather less remarkable given our gee-whiz GPS sat-navs. The nuclear device is ENORMOUS. The brown overcoats the Q technicians wear suggest Mr Bennett the caretaker from Take Hart. Bond flies to Switzerland from Southend-on-Sea. There's glamorous.

Fashion Disasters: Hahahaha. That's me laughing at Bond's blue terry one-piece romper suit. It's terrible. Connery is persevering unsuccessfully with the hat idea but the golf hat is one of the better ones. Leiter wears a terrible hat too. The Flying Circus pilots have very, er, pointy flight-suits.

Eh?: Oh good grief, why tell the gangsters your plan if you've just gathered them there to kill them? Why let Solo leave, if you're about to gas all the others anyway? It's a waste of petrol to drive him to the junk yard, let alone all the effort of extracting the gold from the crushed up car. >> How on Earth, did Felix drill the entire town around Fort Knox to fall over at the right time? It's sixty thousand people, isn't it? Did he call a Town Hall meeting? >> What is Bond trying to do to the capungo's leg during the fight in the pre-credit sequence? Twist it off? >> Felix's office improbably overlooks the White House. >> The flight crew of the plane that Goldfinger hi-jacks are shown violently struggling against their bonds - but a few minutes later when they are discovered by Leiter et al, they are all unconscious, as if they struggled themselves to sleep, like tiny swaddled babies. >> Most infuriatingly, Bond is on the verge of escaping from Goldfinger's foundry when he is confronted with a little old lady with a machine gun, so he swerves about and drives back into the complex and is caught. Just run her over, FFS! Perhaps she reminds him of May? 

Worst Line: Almost anything said by the hoodlums. They bleat like new born lambs, seemingly confused by everything around them: "What's with that trick pool table!", "Hey, what is this? A merry-go-round?" and "What's that map doing there?" are three of their hysterical cries for help.  None of this can compete with "MAN TALK," or Bond's bid for Fuddy-Duddy of the Year, 1964: "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!" Actually worse than all this is the breathless, little-girlish "Ooh!" Pussy Galore gives as Bond knocks her on her back once again before the final credits roll.

Best Line: "Shocking. Positively shocking." It's the best Bond quip ever but, sadly, that means it's responsible for all the dreadful ones to come. There's also: "Manners, Oddjob. I thought you always took your hat off to a lady?" from Bond and the incomparable "I never joke about my work, 007," from an already exasperated Q. And don't forget that Mr Solo had a pressing engagement...

Worst Bond Moment: Other than YOU KNOW WHAT? Helplessly staring at the innards of a nuclear bomb? Standing around in that terry one-piece? Here it is:

Best Bond Moment: I've mentioned the pre-credit sequence already possibly? The way he breaks out of his cell at the ranch is pretty neat too.

Overall: Our mundane reality of spies and scandals has been left behind and from now on it's all going to be fantastic(al). Every thing's done so confidently that it's easy to miss the things they get wrong, perhaps. I don't know. This is exciting, bold, beautiful and witty. More importantly, it's cynically and successfully aimed at the American market. From now on 007 is a global commodity, but the world may not be enough...

James Bond Will Return: It says:

THE END

OF
'GOLDFINGER'

BUT
JAMES BOND
WILL BE BACK

IN
'THUNDERBALL'

and they're not wrong.