Review of Goldfinger (1964) by Keegan K — 25 Mar 2016

It took until the third installment of the Ian Fleming-based James Bond spy movie franchise for its identity to crystallize. Following on the successful heels of Dr. No and From Russia with Love- both directed by Terence Young, Sean Connery's early mentor for the urbane leading role - Goldfinger marked a significant upgrade in production values that would make everything about the franchise iconic.

Budgeted at more than the cost of the first two films combined, Goldfinger launched the ritual of beginning each subsequent Bond film with a stand-alone mission sequence for the fictional British MI6 agent, known by his code number 007, to show off his stuff. Other customs follow. An assignment meeting with British Secret Service head M allows for the otherwise autonomous Mr. Bond to have his feathers clipped while being informed of his latest mission. A little office flirtation with M's secretary Ms. Moneypenny segues into a meeting with resident gadget master Q, who gets Bond up to speed on the state-of-the-art devices that the audience can expect to see employed throughout the movie. From here on, female characters would be sexier and more dangerous, yet also more likely to die. Exotic set pieces would be epic in scale. The series' signature nuanced tone, straddling dualities such as dry humor and outrageous danger, would be more pronounced.

Goldfinger is practically the template for the modern action blockbuster, yet still it's impossible to hate. In fact, it's deucedly hard not to love, simply because everything it does, it does so much better than its inheritors. A handful of other Bond flicks qualify as more "serious" suspense, and one (Skyfall) even borders on flawless. But Goldfinger will always be the best, for the same reason the Beatles will always be the best rock act and Peanuts will always be the best American comic strip: It's a phenomenon that defines its category.