One of the few silver linings of this crummy year is that theaters have chosen to turn to older classics in order to lure viewers back. This week, in the wake of Sean Connery’s death at 90, some theaters are showing his most famous James Bond film, Goldfinger, as well as his turn as Russian submarine commander Marko Ramius, in The Hunt for Red October. As much as I want to see new product at my local sixteen-plex, I am thrilled to see some of these classics on the big screen once again. I have previously seen Goldfinger in a theatre, but it was back in the 1970s, so I simply couldn’t pass up this rare and wonderful opportunity.

Guy Hamilton’s film is the third in the James Bond oeuvre, and it is the one which cemented the series for all time in the popular culture. It is the first Bond film that takes place largely in America, the one in which John Barry’s brassy, percussive score takes center stage in several sequences (most expressively in the “Dawn Raid at Fort Knox” sequence) and the one in which Connery’s superspy is seen as vulnerable, or overconfident, or somewhat lacking, in a surprising number of moments. And yet it is James Bond alone who stands between our enjoyable democracy and the vision of radioactive hell that Auric Goldfinger (Gert Frobe) and his Red Chinese allies share for our future.

The scenes in the first half are impressive, from Bond’s pressure on Goldfinger in Miami, to the golf match in England and the siege of Goldfinger’s auto factory in Switzerland. But this movie truly hits its stride in Kentucky, when Bond discovers the diabolical plan Auric Goldfinger has envisioned for Fort Knox. Generally, the quality of Bond films depends on the quality of their villains. Goldfinger is one of the greatest villains, with Oddjob (Harold Sakata) certainly one of the greatest henchmen. Perhaps the finest scene in all of Bondage occurs as our hero is strapped to a table with a laser beam inching ever closer to his manhood. “Do you expect me to talk?” Bond asks anxiously, hoping to delay his execution. “No, I expect you to die!” is Goldfinger’s perfect rejoinder, and the laser beam continues its inexorable march.

Goldfinger is not a perfect film. It is still too sexist for its own good; it is awkward at places; it has a very famous verbal goof at the climax, which is really inexplicable. Nevertheless, it is a remarkable relic of its time, it is perhaps the tightest of all Bond adventures, and it is one spectacularly entertaining movie. I usually rank it as the best of the Bond bunch, though sometimes I admire From Russia with Love a little more. Connery’s later outings became wider in scope and harder to swallow as the productions began to overwhelm the stories. This one strikes the perfect balance between realism and escapism, with Sean Connery at his finest in a story that is a time capsule of an era. ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆. 9 November 2020.