FLEMING'S BEST

I've spent a chunk of weekends watching some James Bond marathons. Or film festivals. But that's not surprising. I'm not a big movie lover. But there are some I can't miss. And James Bond is one of them.

Goldfinger stands above all the rest. I don't know if it is Shirley Bassey's haunting song, Miss Galore's colorful name (I still don't know how that survived the censors back in the mid-sixties), the cool villians (not a lot of Bonds had more than one per show, but a few of the bad guys to do the dirty work stood out). But that crazy Top Job with that top hat was down right scarey. Who'd a thunk a hat could be such a weapon?

It might have simply been Sean Connery at his best. He was James Bond. As valiently as Moore, Bronson, and others tried to be Bond, they were mere shadows. It would be like trying to replace Miss Moneypenny.

For those of us who actually read Fleming, Goldfinger was tops. I'm so glad there was never a Goldfinger II.