| While investigating an apparently straightforward case 
                    of bullion smuggling, James Bond stumbles upon an audacious 
                    plot to raid the gold depository of Fort Knox...
 This 
                    was the film in which the gadgets took over. Not that you 
                    can really blame the production team for the legacy they established. 
                    As the additional documentary, The Goldfinger Phenomenon 
                    explains, the public instantly fell in love with Bond's Aston 
                    Martin DB5, with all its optional extras, and this movie saw 
                    the beginning of the 1960s phenomenon that was Bond-mania. 
                     Remarkably, 
                    the character of James Bond is sidelined not only by the DB5 
                    but also by Goldfinger himself (played by the wonderfully 
                    larger-than-life Gert Frobe), as 007 is held captive for most 
                    of the second half of the film. Meanwhile, the action focuses 
                    squarely on the planning and execution of the villain's raid 
                    of Fort Knox. During this time, the audience is entertained 
                    by Ken Adam's lavish sets, including those depicting the interior 
                    of the gold depository itself, and also the "rumpus room", 
                    within which Goldfinger explains the plot to his hired hoodlums 
                    and the audience (a scene that would later be virtually reused 
                    in 1985's A View to a Kill).  John 
                    Barry's incidental score, incorporating a strident military 
                    march, also helps to carry the movie forward, while the potent 
                    screen presence of Sean Connery ensures that the viewer hardly 
                    notices that Bond has taken a back seat.  Two 
                    audio commentaries reveal, among other things, some interesting 
                    lapses of continuity. Again, these are not readily apparent 
                    to the average viewer, who is carried along by the brash and 
                    bold direction of Guy Hamilton as he leaves a lasting impression 
                    on the series.  One 
                    aspect that the documentary features curiously fail to discuss 
                    is the interesting way in which the pre-credits sequence mirrors 
                    in microcosm Bond's final confrontation with the henchman 
                    Oddjob (Harold Sakata) towards the end of the movie. In either 
                    case, Bond is left apparently defenceless (in the first instance, 
                    the heavy reaches for Bond's own weapon, while in the second, 
                    Oddjob reaches for the famously deadly bowler hat, which Bond 
                    has just hurled uselessly into a wall). In either case, Bond 
                    hits upon an innovative solution by electrocuting his opponent. 
                     In 
                    addition to the more familiar extras, this DVD also includes 
                    a vintage radio interview with Connery. This "open-ended" 
                    discussion is a cunning device that allowed radio stations 
                    to insert the voices of their own disc jockeys, thus achieving 
                    the illusion of an exclusive interview with the actor. Shocking! Richard 
                    McGinlay  |