Wednesday, May 6, 2020

James Bond / Golfinger / Review by Peter Bradshaw



James Bond

Goldfinger

4 / 5 stars4 out of 5 stars.

Peter Bradshaw
Friday 27 Jul7y 2007

"Y
ou ekshpect me to talk?" - "No, Mr Bond, I expect you to DIE!" Then why doesn't Goldfinger just shoot 007, an army of pedants have asked, instead of setting up this elaborate laser-beam creeping up to Sean Connery's penis? Perhaps he's just a procrastinator like the rest of us. Here is a revival of what could be the best Connery Bond, from 1964, facing up to sinister bullion-dealer Auric Goldfinger (Gert Frobe) with his plan to detonate a nuclear bomb inside Fort Knox. It has Shirley Bassey's operatic theme, the Aston Martin and Shirley Eaton, killed with that magnificently macabre gold paint.
It also has, I fear, the most sexist scene in cinema history. "Man talk," says Bond to his masseuse as Felix Leiter arrives for a conference, dismissing her with a smack to the bottom. (My theory is that a feminist art director made Connery wear that bizarre poolside terry-towelling hot-pants suit in revenge.) Sir Sean was the screen Bond who tried most to replicate the worldly connoisseurship of Fleming's original; he embarrasses M with a superior knowledge of brandy, and as for drinking improperly refrigerated Dom Pérignon: "That's like listening to the Beatles without earmuffs!" Earmuffs? Well, 007, you grumpy old square: in those days, action movies were addressed to an older generation. And Connery's Bond was the last action hero to wear a three-piece suit.


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