This month marks the 60th anniversary of the release of Dr. No, the first film in the James Bond series. Directed by Terence Young, the movie established not only one of cinema's most enduring heroes but the entire action movie genre.
In commemoration of
the series' beginnings, I have ranked all twenty-five films in the
main series. If you haven't read Part One yet, featuring the movies ranked 25-16, you can do so here. Part Two, counting down the films ranked 15-6, can be read here. Spanning six decades and the tenures of
six actors, the films are as fascinating in their own right as they are
snapshots of the times in which they were made. One of the
many great things about the series is that it offers so many entry
points, with any one film having a wildly different tone to another,
that there can never be a conclusive list of the best Bonds. This
ranking is simply my own, and if you too are a fan, you will
appreciate that disagreement is not just expected, but essential. Finally, here are my top five Bond films. Enjoy.
5. SKYFALL (2012)
Rarely has there been a clearer example of 'right place, right time' than Skyfall, the 50th anniversary Bond film whose release coincided with a rare wave of British patriotism thanks to the success of the 2012 London Olympics and Queen Elizabeth II's Diamond Jubilee. It says a lot about how integral Bond is to Britain's identity that Skyfall's triumph feels less like an outcome of those two factors than an equal third part of the year's celebrations. The film's central themes about whether there is a place in the modern world for Bond, and by extension, Britain, are woven throughout with an uncharacteristically deft touch for the series - not subtle by any stretch, but laying out a clear arc for Bond from beginning to end - resonated strongly in a year which became an unintended celebration of the nation's culture and history.
Although it has undergone some critical revision in the years since for a plot which doesn't make much sense - a criticism which could be levied at many of the series' most beloved entries - and more than a few lifts from Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight - again, not as though the series has ever been above chasing trends, and Bond fan Nolan has borrowed his fair share back - Skyfall remains one of the most confident, visually rich and thematically satisfying films in the franchise. The scale of the talent both in front of and behind the camera harkens back to the Connery days when every department was headlined by a figure who would go on to define the very language in which action cinema would henceforth be written (Peter Hunt editing, John Barry scoring, Ken Adam production design, etc.). Skyfall feels more like a premium production than any entry in the series for a long time.
All that talent would be in vain were the movie not up to snuff in all the areas where Bond films are expected to excel, and Skyfall goes above and beyond there as well. In Raoul Silva, Javier Bardem delivers by far the most compelling and unsettling villain since the classic era, easily dominating Daniel Craig's rather limp line-up of antagonists. Although there are plenty of visually arresting locations, like all good Bond films it has one which defines it, in this case, London. The action, from the big set-pieces to the small one-on-one fights, is choreographed for maximum intensity, enhanced by terrific editing from Stuart Baird and Roger Deakin's evocatively coloured cinematography. The bum notes are few and far between - a quip from Q about not going in for exploding pens shows a lingering, unwelcome disdain for the franchise's historic eccentricity, while Craig is operating in second gear - and the highs myriad, including reintroducing characters and elements set aside in Craig's preceding two films. Attempts to recreate those successes in subsequent entries proved disastrous, but in its own right, Skyfall is not just a great film, not just a great Bond film, but a great reminder of how no other film series can deliver quite like the Bonds at the top of their game.
4. LICENCE TO KILL (1989)
Despite long being the black sheep of the Bond family, considered too brutal and serious for a series which has prided itself on its eccentricity and humour compared to more po-faced action imitators, Licence To Kill has a strong claim to being one of the most influential films in the series. To a great extent, the film does what the Daniel Craig era would be celebrated for around twenty years later: a strong focus on Bond's character and a tone and plot reflecting real world threats and treating them with appropriate gravitas. The difference is that where the Craig era - Skyfall aside - would struggle with how to integrate the series' legacy into its new approach, Licence To Kill is built on the classic Bond foundations every bit as much as previous films but with the confidence to arrange them into a new, bolder shape.
If the idea of Bond going rogue is nowadays considered a tiresome cliché, Licence To Kill was the first film to explore the idea and much of its power comes from shattering the audience's expectations of a character who had until that point been every bit the company man (if rather frivolous in his methods). It meant little when Craig went rogue for the umpteenth time because that's all he ever did. When Dalton's Bond, angered by the mutilation of his best friend, Felix Leiter, and murder of Felix's wife, refuses M's orders to return home and instead pursues a personal vendetta against drug kingpin Franz Sanchez, it sells the film's stakes because it is in stark opposition to the values Bond has represented and defended until that point. Timothy Dalton's Shakespearian training gives his performance the operatic weight such stakes require, whether brooding angrily as his losses pile up or quietly taking a moment to steel himself before opening a body bag in Leiter's home.
The film may have been the first to use an original title rather than borrow one from the Fleming literary canon, but it has more Fleming running through it than arguably the majority of films in the series up to that point. It is a hodgepodge, admittedly, taking characters and plot points from different sources, but welds them together with original inventions reminiscent of the author's outlandish sense of humour (Wayne Newton's drug-peddling televangelist most memorably) into a remarkably cohesive whole. On top of that is layered series-best action throughout, from Bond 'going fishing' for an escaping aeroplane, to a brilliantly set up and executed sequence where Bond escapes Sanchez's boat, and the climactic chase aboard (and above) Kenilworth tankers. Throw in Michael Kamen's hard-edged score and books could be written about Licence To Kill's accomplishments as an action film on a purely technical level. The film's shortcomings - strangely flat lighting, a slightly baggy middle act, shapeless costuming and Dalton's dreadful hair - matter little if you can get on board with a Bond movie willing to challenge expectations and its audience. Like Skyfall, future entries' attempts to replicate its innovations would not go so well, but as a movie on its own terms, Licence To Kill is a thorough success and a subtly superb Bond movie to boot.
3. ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE (1969)
Both of Timothy Dalton's films operate from a certain perspective as spiritual successors to earlier films in the series. Licence To Kill both echoes and directly stakes its plot in the subversive, personal story of On Her Majesty's Secret Service, the first film to explore Bond as a character rather than an archetype. For all the criticism that the performance of one-time star George Lazenby has attracted, it is worth remembering that his portrayal of a more vulnerable, emotional Bond was completely new territory for the series. Connery is the Platonic ideal of Bond because he embodied a certain type of hero with his panther-like danger, sex appeal and unshakeable cool from the moment he appeared on-screen. Emotionally, though, he was monolithic, offering nothing of Bond's inner thoughts beyond the occasional wry smile or off-handed laugh: a shallowness arguably central to Bond's appeal as a fantasy figure. In expanding that figure into something approaching a human being, Lazenby does a remarkably good job. He overplays the smugness at times and his moments echoing Connery land with a bit of a thud, but for a first-time actor expanding the boundaries of the most popular cinematic character of his time, he achieves a credibly rounded, balanced and confidently distinct interpretation. His moderation in playing the trauma of his final scene with delicacy and nuance, aided by Peter Hunt's astute direction, is perfectly pitched for the character (unlike a certain recent entry's brash attempts to piggyback off OHMSS's emotional heft).
It says much about how underrated his performance is that he holds his own in scenes alongside Diana Rigg, the experienced, bigger-name actress cast alongside him. Rigg was a performer of great charisma, humour and quiet depth, qualities she brings in spades to her portrayal of the wayward Teresa, the woman who would be, for a short time, the one and only Mrs. James Bond. Both she and Lazenby find the wounds in their characters' facades and use them as connection points for the pair. If the love story is undermined by her disappearance for much of the middle act - doubly so considering Bond spends that time sleeping with an entire ski resort full of beautiful women - it is to Rigg and Lazenby's credit that their romance feels every bit as inevitable and heartfelt when they reconnect. Teresa is the most fully drawn woman of the series and rightly placed at the top of many fans' list of favourite Bond girls. Supporting them is a cast of equally charismatic performers, from Gabriele Ferzetti's scrumptiously roguish Marc-Ange Draco to the series' best depiction of Blofeld, by Telly Savalas, who layers the character's charm with a threatening cruel streak.
On a technical level, director Peter Hunt brings the same rebellious, modernising spirit to his film's look and pacing as he did in his genre-defining editing work earlier in the series. If Hunt's editing style was to cut every non-essential frame from the film to maximise the story's momentum, he gives On Her Majesty's an almost impressionistic willingness to forego shot-to-shot coherence in favour of speed and style. The opening fight on the beach swaps between day and night, with Bond battling his assailants on sand one moment and surf the next, spliced together at a pace which wouldn't be seen on-screen again for a good forty years. It is nevertheless done with such artistry and precision that not only is the geography of the fight never lost but it pushes the audience's imagination to piece together any missing connective material. It should come as no surprise that On Her Majesty's is the favourite of such stylistically adventurous filmmakers as Christopher Nolan and Steven Soderbergh. Considered a tonal outlier in the series for a long time, history has simply proven it far ahead of its time.
2. FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE (1963)
From one of the series' most forward-thinking entries to one of its most old-fashioned, From Russia With Love is a Cold War thriller in the most classical sense, but what it lacks in revolutionary zeal is more than made up for in being one of the most accomplished, entertaining and atmospheric examples of its chosen genre. Despite being a direct sequel to Dr. No - the eponymous villain is name-checked as the reason SPECTRE specifically targets Bond for humiliation - it is a curious follow-up in that it is a completely different type of film from Dr. No's pulpy B-movie. Where Dr. No felt specifically localised in its Jamaican location, with its global stakes only depicted on a television screen, From Russia spends a similar amount of time in its defining location (Istanbul, not Russia) but feels much bigger courtesy of a plot rooted in the divided political contest between East and West and with multiple international players, including SPECTRE behind the scenes, competing for the prize. If much of the action takes place in one city, there is a tangible sense of movement throughout, from cars to ferries and (most memorably) trains, largely absent from Dr. No's slower build-up to its grand finale.
If Dr. No had many Bondian elements present but not yet fully cohered into the shapes which would define the series going forward, From Russia is a Bond film through and through. That its humour is more dry compared to subsequent bawdier entries only marks it out as being more of a precursor to a typically later period Bond film: The Living Daylights, the series' only other Cold War thriller, successfully took many of its cues from the film while leaning away from the broad comedy of the Moore era. Its restraint feels less subdued and more an early example of a lesson the series would arguably take too long to recall: as much as this is a series which has flourished with grandeur, the key Bondian elements are often most engaging when served with precision and direction rather than maximalism. From Russia feels focused rather than small, exacerbating rather than diminishing its pleasures. In only his second outing, Connery is already completely at ease with the character and perfectly balances Bond's integrity as a dangerous man at the centre of a dangerous political game with an underlying sarcasm and softly-played self-awareness. From Bond's spying mission in the Istanbul catacombs, via a fight at a gypsy camp (and subsequent threesome with two competing women), assassination of an enemy agent, through to his first tryst with Tanya in his hotel room, the character is given perhaps the single most hilariously masculine half-hours of any character in fictional history, and Connery plays every second with relish.
The action also benefits from going for impact rather than size. Each of the major set-pieces has a specific goal, whether that be tension, excitement or spectacle, which it achieves with aplomb. The pre-titles scene where Robert Shaw's Red Grant seemingly hunts Bond through an ornate garden is rife with suspense, intended first and foremost to establish Grant's considerable threat as a villain, as is a mission to retrieve a dead drop at the Hagia Sofia mosque. The gypsy battle is all spectacle, with Bond sauntering through the fire and chaos, picking off enemies as he goes, as is Bond's later sniper duel with a helicopter. The standout is of course the fight with Grant in the tight confines of a train compartment, a exceptional feat of staging, editing and choreography even by modern standards and certainly one of the series' most brutal until the stairwell fight in Casino Royale (2006). Up until the extremely ropey back projection that ruins the film's very last scene, From Russia barely missteps from start to finish, more old-fashioned in tone than later entries but delivering all the trademark pleasures with sumptuous confidence.
1. GOLDFINGER (1964)
There is such a thing in the James Bond fandom as 'Goldfinger fatigue'. The movie has for so long been considered the defining Bond film, which put all the tropes in place and set the standard going forward, that many feel it has reached the point of oversaturation and over time, pushed it out of their rewatch rotation. The retreat of the film's once hallowed status has led to greater scrutiny and criticism, focusing on Bond's relatively passive role in the story, his 'seduction' of Pussy Galore in the barn and a sense the movie loses steam once it gets to Goldfinger's stud farm in Kentucky. Most of these, it must be said, have at least some basis in truth. Why then does Goldfinger still top my list? The simple answer is that Goldfinger fatigue lasts precisely as long as you aren't actually watching the film. Its non-stop procession of iconic (genuinely iconic, not social media iconic) lines, moments, characters, sets, musical cues and more are only dulled by repetition in memory. In practice, they are as vibrant and magical to watch as a perfectly executed ballroom dance. You may know all the steps but there's nothing quite like experiencing them come together in motion.
Both Dr. No and From Russia With Love have the core Bond ingredients in place to varying degrees, and From Russia in particular has the cadence of the Bond film humming underneath its relatively conventional thriller exterior. Goldfinger is in many ways a lesser film than From Russia, yet there is a difference between a great film and a great Bond film. If Goldfinger doesn't quite top the series' high mark on the former, it absolutely obliterates the competition at the latter. Whatever criticisms one might level at the minutia, this is Bond perfected. It takes Fleming's rather rough novel, sorts out its major plot hole (for all his expertise, Fleming forgot that gold is rather heavy) and gives it a cinematic flair. Bond may only take decisive action in the film when he absolutely has to, but Connery is so ridiculously magnetic in the role that it is somehow entirely plausible that this man and his often gleefully appalling behaviour should attract favourable circumstances towards him simply by the gravitational pull of his confidence. Perfectly counterbalancing him is Gert Frobe's genially malicious
Goldfinger and his silent henchman, Oddjob, a figure so immediately striking it is even reflected in the sharp tings of his musical cue. Honor Blackman's spiky Pussy Galore gives Bond a female foil worthy of him in screen presence, competence and (for once) age-appropriateness.
Extolling the film's many individual virtues verges on the redundant. Everyone already knows John Barry's score and Shirley Bassey's title song, Ken Adams' Fort Knox set, the white dinner jacket, the famous one-liners, the golden girl, Bond desperately talking Goldfinger out of slicing him in half (vertically, from below) with an industrial laser, assassination by hat, the Aston Martin DB5 winding through the Swiss Alps in pursuit of a beautiful femme fatale, and Bond expressing his contempt for The Beatles (perfectly in character, and I agree with him). Having seen the film in cinemas several times, I can attest that even 'man talk' never fails to get laughs, even if (hopefully) for more ironic reasons than in 1964. Recounting every famous moment is to de facto recount the entire film. Forget Jaws or Star Wars: the birth of the blockbuster, and the action genre, was Goldfinger. It is Bond in the purest form, shining just as brilliantly almost sixty years later.
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THE COMPLETE RANKING
1. Goldfinger
2. From Russia With Love
3. On Her Majesty's Secret Service
4. Licence To Kill
5. Skyfall
6. The Living Daylights
7. GoldenEye
8. Octopussy
9. The Spy Who Loved Me
10. Casino Royale
11. You Only Live Twice
12. Dr. No
13. Tomorrow Never Dies
14. Moonraker
15. For Your Eyes Only
16. Live And Let Die
17. Thunderball
18. Quantum Of Solace
19. The World Is Not Enough
20. The Man With The Golden Gun
21. Diamonds Are Forever
22. A View To A Kill
23. Die Another Day
24. SPECTRE
25. No Time To Die
