One of the first movies I saw independently, without parental oversight, was "Goldfinger." In a theater, with my brothers and another boy. We were all probably 15 -16 except maybe Steve, who had to be old enough to drive.... so maybe 1965. Every detail of that movie (the ones I remember) are so clear and precise to me now, more than 55 years later. (I am fainting as I see the number 55, all those years gone by.) Sean Connery was so young, thin, debonair, carefree. That the movie was just that, a movie, a fiction, nothing anchored in reality, didn't matter one tiny bit.
The James Bond movies have always grabbed me, especially the early ones and now the last of the line. Daniel Craig isn't Sean Connery but it really doesn't matter. James Bond is still James Bond. Even Pierce Brosnan was fine for a short while because it is all about the adventure, the incredible action sequences and the gadgets, the girls and the gritty escapes that make Bond Bond. (And the martinis.)
The new movie is good, packed with everything one wants in a Bond movie and more. The scenery is gorgeous, the explosions are huge, the sex is hot, the Aston Martin is so cool, the intrigue is confusing and the villains are what they should be: evil and cunning and death-defying. It's a movie to see on the big screen, but only if you like Bond movies. There's nothing about it that is redemptive or cozy and warm. But then, Bond movies were never about that. You like them or you don't.
I do.
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