If From Russia with Love is a lens on the stubbornness of Cold War combatants, then Goldfinger, is the Bond franchise’s departure from satire and its arrival in cartoonishness. This is not necessarily a negative, so long as you haven’t tried to watch the first few Bond films in succession. The tone of the first two (Dr. No, From Russia with Love) is slow and ominous with bits of daring do mixed in, but still subservient to a rather bleak global culture. On the other hand, Goldfinger revels in its overuse of obvious puns, coaxing Bond, who’s found “in good hands” while being massages by a lovely woman, to utter “Shocking,” after he electrocutes a would-be assassin with an electric fan in a tub. The cleverness remains the same despite the increase in deliveries.
The introduction of the Bond-famous puns is not the only first in Goldfinger. The 1964 film also introduced the character of Q, played by Desmond Llewelyn, who embodied the role up through The World in not Enough when he died in 1999. In tandem began to perpetually revved-up use of gadgets and placement of luxury cars – an Aston Martin in this case. Not only is the car a sign of speed, excitement, and luxury, but a – figurative – vehicle for wonderful toys that Bond uses, seemingly successively – to outwit, dupe, and vanquish his enemies.
Bond’s luck with the women stays the same throughout Goldfinger. In fact, he debonair charm apparently brings a villain back into the hero fold. However, one departure from the first two films is the fate of his first two love interests: both Jill and Tilly Masterson are killed, the former through skin-suffocation after she’s dipped in gold; the latter when she’s struck with Oddjob’s iron-rimmed fedora. Regardless, this is also the first film in which Bond’s emotional attachment – however improbably is its rapidity – is evident. He seems genuinely disturbed when he stumbles upon Jill’s deceased body, not long after they’ve spent the night, um, frolicking (it is rated PG after all). In truth, he seems much more disturbed than in either of the previous films. The question begged here is whether or not he’s genuinely upset by her death or by the inability to protect her. Does his anger stem from his inadequacies? Or did he really see a future with this young dame?
His ability to move on with Pussy Galore offers some answers to these questions, but still doesn’t discount Bond’s earnest show of emotion. Somehow, the movie Goldfinger made him momentarily human, despite all of Bond’s endemic traits that defy his humanness.
Something else of note – and something for posterity – is that Goldfinger is the first Bond film to lay a dedicated title song – Goldfinger, sung by Shirley Bassey in the film and most recently at the Academy Awards – over its title track. There was a song for From Russia with Love, but this song played toward the end, and not in its most familiar place: the opening credits. Here, we catch glimpses of gold-painted women, mysterious shadows, and Bond maneuvering through both. Bassey sets up our expectations with her deep, resonating voice, and we have no choice but to expect a solid climax.
Though Goldfinger’s departure from the more politically entrenched Dr. No and From Russia with Love is a bit of a surprise, I suppose it shouldn’t be. When I was a teenager, Bond was revitalized by Pierce Brosnan in Goldeneye, an appropriate title for the rebirthed franchise, and I remember snickering with delight at its puns, its silliness, and its overuse of gadgets, much like I did during Goldfinger.
