This is the time capsule Bond movie, the one that explains to future generations why we've been obsessed for 50 years and counting with British agent 007. In his third go-round in the role, Sean Connery is danger and sexual swagger incarnate, wearing a tux under his wetsuit and ordering a martini "shaken, not stirred." Indelible images include Shirley Eaton's death by gilded body paint, Honor Blackman's innuendo as flygirl Pussy Galore, Harold Sakata's lethal aim as the hat-throwing Oddjob and Gert Frobe's master villainy as Auric Goldfinger (he's out to rob Fort Knox). "Do you expect me to talk?" an anxious Bond asks after Goldfinger straps him to a table with a laser heading right to his crotch. "No, Mr. Bond," comes the classic reply. "I expect you die." And how about the gadget-loaded Aston-Martin, the Shirley Bassey title song, and the stylish way director Guy Hamilton delivers the whole Bond package?
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