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Released: November 1995
Producer: Michael G Wilson and Barbara Broccoli
Director: Martin Campbell
Written by: Bruce Fierstein and Jeffrey Caine (story by Michael France)
Plot:
The Cold War may be over, but some of its secret weapons still exist. A helicopter hijacking in Monte Carlo leads James Bond to Russia, where the GoldenEye satellite has been stolen by an international crime syndicate headed by the mysterious Janus. Bond must team up with surviving computer programmer Natalya to defeat an enemy from his past, which is Sean Bean you guys, it’s totally Sean Bean. Also Judi Dench debuts as M and tears Bond a new one. It’s erotic.
Famous For:
A New World (and New Bond) Order
Sean “Dies Again” Bean
Xenia Onatopp’s killer thighs and sadistic sex faces
THAT PRE-CREDIT SEQUENCE
Until 1995, my life in Bond films had very much been a retrospective. In Australia, the Bond movies regularly got airings on Friday or Saturday nights, plus there were a few I’d taped on VHS (trying to tape the ads out, of course).
There was a real risk the franchise itself might have become that scenario writ large - embroiled in legal dramas after Licence to Kill, some critics believed the Bond films had run their course, and were best left as a nostalgic collection of Cold War era novelties.
But then GoldenEye came roaring into cinemas at the end of 1995, sweeping the Iron Curtain before it and showing that even though the world had changed, there was still a place in it for 007.
GoldenEye was a clear and present game-changer.
All of a sudden Bond was contemporary. It was in my now. Indeed, I remember our family outing on Boxing Day 1995 (its release date in Australia) so clearly. GoldenEye was the first Bond film I’d seen at the cinema, and I was blown away by its ambition, panache and the fact that it was so much fun.
I also remember how it made me feel like I too was invincible.
After seeing the film, my parents took my brother and I to a walking track in one of the state parks around Brisbane for some “fresh air” (I’m sure I wasn’t the only one with a family that liked to balance slothful activities like movie-going with a healthy dose of the outdoors). I remember deciding to run on the bush track. I have never liked running, but GoldenEye inspired me to do it. I ran and ran, faster and faster, leaving my family behind me on the trail. I had the Monty Norman in my head, and in those seconds I was a spy, chasing the bad guy, running from explosions, saving the world.
“Come back, Natalie!” I can remember my mother calling out after me, worried I’d slip and fall, or possibly be abducted and murdered. I slowed down, and let my family catch up, even though had somebody tried to abduct me my spy self surely would have kicked ten types of shit out of them.
Perhaps comic book fans have similar experiences imagining themselves as Superman or Wonder Woman or Spider-Man. For me, there was nothing gendered about it - at the same time I loved James Bond, I adored Xena: Warrior Princess. I just loved resourceful, cool characters being awesome, and finally I had a new Bond just for me.
I am many years older now, and my distaste for running has sadly only grown. But GoldenEye, brilliantly paced back then, and still a cracker 25 years later, is enough of a siren call to, if not make me run, at least take a very brisk walk down memory lane.
A third Dalton Bond film had been in the works in early 1990, but dramas surrounding the sale of MGM studios ensnared Broccoli’s Danjaq company, the entity that owns the Bond film rights, in legal coils until 1993.
Even at that point, Dalton expressed interest in doing another Bond film, bringing together the best of his two previous efforts to really crack on with a goodie. It was Albert R. Broccoli, already ailing, who told Dalton the hiatus had been too long, and if he was going to come back, it had to be for multiple films. Seeing his decade fill up with Bond, and preventing him from taking such varied roles as that of Rhett Butler in the little-remembered Gone with the Wind sequel Scarlett, Dalton resigned.
Enter Pierce Brosnan, a man tied to the role since the early 80s when his then wife Cassandra Harris played opposite Roger Moore in For Your Eyes Only. There were other candidates apparently, with Mel Gibson, Liam Neeson and Hugh Grant all passing. Withnail & I star and one-time Doctor Who Paul McGann (aka “the thinking woman’s crumpet”) would have got the job had Brosnan said no.
But Brosnan was never going to say no. The role snatched from him in 1986 wasn’t going to slip through his fingers a second time. I remember watching the announcement of Brosnan as the new Bond in 1994; I also remember seeing footage of the full cast being announced during filming. This brilliant YouTube clip shows a lot of behind the scenes moments from that affair - it’s worth watching if only for Robbie Coltrane being utterly cheeky and charming.
Eon Productions had good reason to show off its new line-up of stars, with the emphasis on new.
As argued by Raven Bond podcast guest Tom Salinsky, the mid-80s change of Bond had freshened up the appearance of the series, but the core infrastructure remained the same - with John Glen directing and Michael G Wilson and Richard Maibaum doing the bulk of the writing. Broccoli ditched both Glen and Maibaum in 1990, and clearly had his mind on newer paths.
The hiatus caused by the legal entanglements essentially allowed Eon time to clean house, and bring in fresh ideas, as well as New Zealand director Martin Campbell, who would stamp the whole thing with flair to spare.
It was convenient too, given that before the end of 1989 the Berlin Wall came down, and two years later the USSR - Bond’s trustworthy old foe - ceased to exist.
Bond films had been being released every two years until 1989 - putting a third Dalton film on track for release right as the hammer and sickle came down from the Kremlin flag pole for the last time.
It’s not to say it wouldn’t have worked - there had been a script in development about a terrorist threat to a Scottish nuclear facility and a corrupt East Asian businessman - but a few extra years allowed Eon breathing room to see what the washing and rinsing of the Iron Curtain would do to the geopolitical clothesline, and maybe, just maybe, get a yarn out of it.
Look, I’m the one who searched for “Clothesline” GIFs, I should have known this would happen.
And so instead of nuclear missiles or stolen technology or defections, we get the rise of an internationally-operating, illegal arms dealing criminal syndicate out of a capitalism-shocked Russia. Instead of an egotistical, megalomaniacal villain who’s a stranger to Bond, we get… well, an egotistical, megalomaniacal villain that Bond KNOWS.
Also, it’s Sean Bean. It’s Sean Bean, guys. Sean Bean. I don’t know how many times I can say it, but it’s Sean Bean.
Pictured: Sean Bean.
Indeed, the casting of Sean Bean affected the script, which had been developed first by Michael France, then later reworked by Jeffrey Caine, Bruce Fierstein and Kevin Wade. Bond’s antagonist was supposed to be “Augustus Trevelyan”, an older man and former mentor to Bond.
Instead he became Alec Trevelyan, MI6 agent 006, and Bond’s equal in intelligence and physical capability.
Their relationship is established in the absolute corker pre-credits sequence, which ranks among the best in the entire franchise. It’s strategically set in 1986, which interestingly reflects the year Brosnan lost out on the role, and sidelines Timothy Dalton’s two films in the process.
After bungee jumping down a sheer dam wall - itself a world record for stuntman Wayne Michaels for highest off a fixed structure - Bond breaks into the Arkangel Chemical Weapons facility to rendezvous with 006.
Bond working WITH another agent! How devastatingly exciting! We’ve seen other Double-Os referenced before, or briefly turn up before dying horribly, but actually seeing a pair in action is giddying.
An insight I gained on this rewatch is that while James Bond doesn’t murder anybody in the early stages of the raid on the facility, Alec Trevelyan is very comfortable using his licence to kill, shooting a number of Russian soldiers and scientists while Bond merely sets explosives and timers.
Of course, Alec is captured by the Russian in charge, Colonel Ourumov, sensationally played by Gottfried John as someone with a lot of external power, but tortured by the internal knowledge that he is a simple coward not worthy of any of it. Bond is cornered but when Alec yells for “For England, James!” Ourumov fires his pistol and Alec falls, Bond uses the moment to take cover again.
The tragedy of 006’s death is followed immediately by this comedic element of Bond using a trolley full of potentially explosive gas canisters as cover. I remember the cinema roaring with laughter as the Russians quietly watch 007 tiptoe his way to freedom, and it’s a credit to both Brosnan and Campbell that this moment is still believable, even while the trolley wheels squeak their way across the factory floor.
The action recommences with Bond machine gunning his way out on a conveyor belt, then grabbing a motorbike and chasing down a plane taxi-ing on the cliffside runway. Of course, given Bond bungee jumped down a big-ass dam to get to the facility, it makes no sense that the facility itself is still sitting atop a mountain, but hey, don’t let the physics get in the way of a good stunt.
Finally, the coup de grace - Bond sailing off the edge of the runway on a motorbike, then free falling towards the empty plane, wrangling himself in, and managing to avoid certain death on the rocks below. What a belter of a statement. James Bond is back, and yes, his ridiculously awesome stunts are still relevant because HE’S JAMES EFFING BOND.
Quick aside to mention that Brosnan’s gunbarrel opener is arguably the best in the franchise. Look at that turn!
Eric Serra’s score for this film is widely criticised as one of the film’s worst aspects, and there’s a case to be made that too much synth can sometimes be enough - but honestly, I don’t mind it. Again, it’s probably rose-coloured glasses, because I’ve watched this film so many times I have a sense memory of it. Even so, I think it was a great decision to NOT end the opening stunt sequence with the Monty Norman theme; rather, to let the sound of the plane’s soaring engine ring out victory over the exploding weapons factory.
What is superb is the title song, written by Bono and The Edge from U2 and performed by Tina Turner, with its majestic accompanying credit sequence. I could watch/listen to that all day. Turner’s voice is a great match for Bond, and the song is slow and menacing with fantastic brassy punches that just make you want to dance in your living room. Not me, of course, I’m far too mature to try to re-enact the sexy girls hammering away at statues of fallen dictators.
Live from Natalie’s living room.
GoldenEye’s structure, at least in its first third to first half, is much more inventive compared to previous outings, and shows the benefit of fresh writing eyes.
The pre-credit sequence serves its main purpose to set up the “Bond is back!” excitement, but it also introduces and kills off Alec Trevelyan in an entirely believable way. Of course people die around Bond, that’s a given.
But where normally the immediate post-title sequence would take us to a part of the villain’s plan being enacted, or Bond reporting for duty at HQ, GoldenEye flashes us forward nine whole years.
We have no time to think about the characters we just met, but they have been placed in our brains, waiting for the right time to be recalled.
Instead, we see Bond in his Aston Martin speeding merrily down the hills behind Monte Carlo, suitably terrifying an MI6 human resources manager sent to “evaluate” him. He is distracted by the sudden appearance of a beautiful brunette in a Ferrari who wordlessly draws him into a race.
Bond’s delight in pursuing the mysterious motorist is reminiscent of Sean Connery chasing Tilly Masterson through the Swiss Alps in Goldfinger, and Brosnan again is a confident Bond, simultaneously flirting with the Ferrari driver while only slightly patronising his assessor by saying he has no problem with women in authority.
Eventually the Ferrari spins out, and having built up an appetite, Bond reveals a chilled bottle of Bollinger and moves his “evaluation” to the “practical” stage, that is, hint hint, “sex”.
The action then stays in Monte Carlo for another 20 minutes while Bond rolls his Aston Martin up to the casino, meets and beats the mysterious Ferrari driver at the baccarat table, introduces himself, discovers she is Xenia Onatopp, indulges in some light banter and orders a vodka martini, shaken not stirred.
It’s a greatest hits parade of classic Bond - the car, the cards, the chick, the cocktail - and it’s entrancing. Famke Janssen too is immediately captivating as the smokey-eyed Georgian vixen in structured satin.
Sometimes a cigar is just a metaphor for a penis.
She pulls rank on Commander Bond by leaving with an Admiral, but Bond observes from a distance. The music is somewhat yearning and romantic as Bond feeds back photos of Xenia via his car, and receives a voice report from Miss Moneypenny identifying her as an ex-Soviet fighter pilot with ties to the Janus crime syndicate.
It’s so charming that as it washes over you, this vision of Bond doing proper Bond stuff, and even proper spy stuff, you could easily miss the mention of “Janus” at this point. But again, it’s there, in the ether, waiting for the right time to be remembered.
Xenia Onatopp is one of the most recognisable and feted Bond girls, and it’s the scene onboard the Admiral’s yacht that seals her status. A sado-masochist, she uses her vice-like thighs to squeeze the life out of the Admiral and steal his military credentials.
It’s such a revenge fantasy superpower, but one with a comedic touch, as shown by the Admiral’s smiling death “O” face when Bond yanks him out of a cupboard the next morning.
Bond soon realises what Onatopp is targeting - the new high-tech, EMP-proof Tiger attack helicopter, being demonstrated that very morning on a French navy ship tied up in the harbour. But Bond is too late to stop the hijacking, and Onatopp and an accomplice shoot the pilots, disguise themselves in their uniforms, and fly the chopper away forever.
The action then transfers to a remote radar station in Severnaya, Siberia, where we’re introduced to computer programmers Natalya Simonova and Boris Grishenko. It seems to be just an ordinary day, with Boris showing Natalya both his hacking and trolling skills.
“I’m inventing Twitter.”
The routine is broken when Ourumov, now a General, arrives with Xenia Onatopp in tow, ostensibly for an unscheduled test of the GoldenEye satellite’s operating procedures. He has the officer in charge retrieve the access codes and keys to the satellite… then has Onatopp machine gun the lot of them to death while having multiple orgasms on such a scale they have to be counted in terabytes.
Fortunately Natalya had gone for a coffee and manages to escape the carnage, helped by a colleague using their dying breath to trip the main alarm system, alerting the Russian airforce.
Again, the whole thing is inventive. The sequence sets up a villainous relationship between Onatopp and Ourumov (last seen in 1986), their ease with mass murder, establishes Natalya as our heroine, and creates some mystery with Boris, who went out for a cigarette before the Tiger helicopter arrived and isn’t seen again inside the facility.
The film then connects these events directly with Bond and MI6. Chief of Staff Bill Tanner updates Bond on their discovery of the missing Tiger chopper parked at Severnaya...and then SHE walks in.
Kneel before your Dame, boys.
Inspired by the appointment of Stella Rimington to the top job at MI5 in 1992, Judi Dench’s “M” is the film’s most obvious - and best - attempt to redress its history of maybe occasionally problematic and possibly slightly uncool treatment of women.
But, but… but what about all those women Bond DIDN’T slap on the ass?
Finally, here was a woman Bond cannot seduce his way around.
Known chiefly for her theatre work in Britain and the sitcom As Time Goes By in Australia, GoldenEye launched Judi Dench as an international film star.
She stamped her mark on the role so completely that Eon Productions simply had to carry her over into the Daniel Craig era, even though by rights they should have used the “gritty reboot” of Casino Royale to cast a new M because the continuity gets muddled (and yes, I’m fully aware I’m talking about a spy who by rights should be closing in on a century but that’s a different argument, no you shut up).
Bernard Lee’s M famously rolled his eyes at all of Bond’s pretensions and liberties with the ladies; the M that followed him, Robert Brown - sadly so forgettable I had to Google his name just now - didn’t seem that bothered by anything much.
Judi Dench, however, IS NOT HERE FOR 007’s BULLSHIT.
He dislikes her analytical mind and use of statistics and modelling in decision-making, rather than rolling over and trusting his gut. And sure, he has a 100% record of “being right”, but in M’s defence, that could simply be a streak of good fortune.
The tension builds as the GoldenEye satellite fires at the Severnaya facility, blasting its way from rumour into fact with a searing electro-magnetic pulse that wipes out MI6’s cameras - not to mention the entire base with Natalya trapped inside.
Bond’s hunch was right, but that doesn’t mean M is going to soothe his ego. Instead, she gives him one of the most legendary dressing-downs in cinematic history.
Now you all know by now that I love James Bond. I adore the messed up magnificent garbage person he truly is. But seeing him suffer a burn so fierce even Australians in summer would give it a low whistle is borderline erotic.
And it’s not like M doesn’t care about Bond - she just wants him to hold back a bit on the loose cannon business and focus on the mission. Given the possible involvement of Bond’s old foe Ourumov, she knows him getting a hankering for revenge for Alec’s death could derail the entire operation.
Again, a quick mention of Alec, that guy from the start. Let me just dust this bread crumb from your shoe.
Finally Bond has his briefing with Q, complete with laboratory walk and talk, the “Now listen up 007” mantra, and an array of gizmos and gadgets exploding or inflating in the background. Sure, the BMW sports car never actually gets to deploy its high tech weaponry, and sure, you can see the famously tech-phobic Desmond Llewellyn reading his lines from a cue card off screen, but it’s still wonderfully fun.
Now there’s a bit of convenient time jumping here - I’ve taken the Trans-Siberian railway from Irkutsk to Moscow, and it was four days, plus an extra half a day to get up to St Petersburg. Natalya seems to manage getting huskies out of Severnaya then a train to the city it in the same time it takes Bond to catch a four hour WizzAir from Stansted.
Bond’s American contact in St Petersburg is CIA agent Jack Wade, played gleefully by Jon Don Baker, previously the toy soldier collector Whittaker in The Living Daylights. He calls Bond a “stiff-assed Brit” before assigning him a series of James-derivative nicknames. Eventually he takes Bond to meet an old ex-KGB foe who might be able to set him up with the mysterious arms dealer Janus.
Robbie Coltrane was an inspired piece of casting as Valentin Zukovsky, now a gangster just trying to make his way in the new, capitalist Russia. His interaction with Bond is a delight as he tries to assert dominance over Bond on his turf, but can’t help but let Bond get to him. Also, a massive shout out to Minnie Driver, who does such a great job in her tiny cameo as Zuchovsky’s cat-strangling wannabe Tammy Wynette.
It’s Zuchovsky who reveals to Bond that Janus, whomever he is, is the son of anti-Communist Cossacks who escaped the slaughter of their people after the UK reneged on a deal to protect them from Stalin. It’s actually gratifying to see Bond, always a symbol of Britain’s freedom-loving, liberty-protecting idealised version of itself, looking distinctly uncomfortable at The Land of Hope and Glory revealing itself to be a brand of nope and gory.
It’s Onatopp who turns out to be the contact for the meeting with Janus. She attempts to sneak up on Bond while he’s taking a dip at the Grand Hotel pool and spa, and although he has the drop on her, she still gives him a really, ahem, hard time.
Once again it’s a ridiculously over the top scene, but Brosnan and Janssen play it so well that it remains entirely plausible that Bond would have to fend off a sadistic lust murderer with a chirpy rejoinder about needing a gun for “safe sex”. The sight of Bond trying to wrench Onatopp’s killer thighs off him before flinging her into a wall is just icing on the BDSM cake.
And so here we are, half way through the movie, and finally, the reveal of Janus’ true identity.
Did you guess it? Now of course we can see the bread crumb trail left out for us. But I still remember gasping in the cinema at the sight of Alec Trevelyan, back from the dead. Both Bean and Brosnan bring their A-game to this scene: you get the feeling Trevelyan has been rehearsing his lines for years, and spits them out with relish; while Bond looks absolutely lost. His long-dead friend is not only alive, but a criminal and a traitor.
The setting, a graveyard for old Soviet statues, is suitably eerie, placing Bond starkly amidst the rubble of what he once fought against. Is he too past his use by date? As Trevelyan explains the circumstances of his orphaning, and his long-seeded hatred of the British government that subsequently employed him, a light seems to go out of Bond’s eyes. Alec is crazy, for sure, but his formative experiences - seeing the murder-suicide of his parents due to his father’s survivor’s guilt - still happened. He’s a monster of MI6’s making.
He also quizzes Bond’s blind obedience to Queen and Country, his somewhat simplistic Boy Scout view of geopolitics. Bond could never be a two-faced god like Janus because Bond does not have the capacity for duality like Alec. His hands may be dirty but his conscience is clean.
A Janus goon takes Bond down with a dart to the neck, and it’s a credit again to director Martin Campbell that the dart does not come across as entirely silly. Alec may be a Bond villain for the 90s, but he’s still got that old habit of eschewing easy and fast murder for a complicated and dramatic death plan.
In this case it’s strapping Bond inside the Tiger helicopter, with Natalya - captured after making contact with the traitorous Boris - yelling at him to wake up and help.
As two of the chopper’s heat seeking missiles are released and turn back towards the chopper, Bond shoves his forehead into the eject button and powers he and Natalya to safety. But as he tries to work out who she is, the are arrested by Russian police and taken to be interrogated by the Defence Minister.
It’s Natalya who issues the famous rebuke “You’re like boys with toys” to stop the East/West testosterone rivalry between Bond and Minister Mishkin, and reveals that it was General Ourumov who killed everyone at Severnaya and stole the GoldenEye - which still has one satellite weapon left to fire.
Ourumov appears and demands to interrogate Bond and Natalya, and shoots Mishkin dead when he reveals what Natalya said. Bond is able to escape with Natalya briefly, but she is recaptured and bundled into a car with Ourumov.
Now there’s been so much happening that we haven’t noticed a lack of action scenes in which Bond really causes some property damage. But that’s all about to change.
I still punch the sky at this moment in the film. It’s also the moment the Monty Norman Bond theme cranks up in earnest - although it was a last minute re-scoring because everybody realised what Eric Serra had composed was a tad… drab.
And it’s a great choice, because if ever you needed to hear the James Bond theme, it’s while Pierce Brosnan is playing Grand Theft Tanko around St Petersburg, smoothly adjusting his tie when necessary.
Ouromov manages to get Natalya to the old armoured Soviet train Alec/Janus uses as a base of operations. Bond, still in the tank, works out a way of getting in their path down the track, and fires off a conveniently still loaded tank gun to stop the train.
There’s a confrontation onboard, in which Alec tries to around Bond’s jealousy by saying he’s been kissing Natalya and she tastes like strawberries. Bond says she means nothing to him, but his decision to shoot Ourumov first because he was holding a gun to Natalya’s head definitely says something. Alec and Xenia get away in a helicopter, giving Bond “six minutes” before the train blows. Bond knows this is a reference to the timers he switched to three minutes at Arkangel resulting in an early explosion that burned the right side of Alec’s face.
Natalya uses the time to track Boris on the computer, to find out where Alec might be going. Bond helps her solve Boris’s password riddle (he puns a lot in English for a Russian), and then the pair manage to get out of the bottom of the train and dive to cover before it explodes.
Cut to Cuba, where Bond’s BMW has been mystifyingly shipped from Britain just to be swapped out for a plane delivered by Jack Wade. Apparently the contract with BMW was signed too late for the screenwriters to insert a suitably cool car chase, so the whole thing is a bit of a misfire in this film. There is, however, a tender love scene with Bond and Natalya, who chastises him for being so cold in the face of having to murder an old friend/new enemy. She says it’s what keeps Bond alone, but then winds up making out with him so I guess it’s cool.
The final climactic sequence begins with Bond and Natalya in the light plane searching for signs of a flipping great big satellite dish suitable to contact the GoldenEye. There’s nothing but a large round blue lake in what looks like an extinct volcano.
But a missile emerges from the water and shoots down the plane. Bond drags Natalya out of the wreck but they both pass out. Bond wakes to see the inimitable form of Xenia Onatopp repelling down from a helicopter to kick some ass. But unfortunately Xenia is not the one who comes out Onatopp of this encounter.
Meanwhile Alec and Boris begin the process of bringing the GoldenEye online, which involves draining the liquid out of the lake to reveal the concealed satellite dish. The dish was actually the Arecibo Observatory in Pueurto Rico, which unfortunately is not in great shape right now after a cable snapped and shredded part of the dish.
Derek Meddings, the special effects wizard, waved his magic wand one final time over this film, creating not only the satellites of Severnaya and the Arkangel facility, but the dish models. Meddings died while in post-production on the film and it is dedicated to him.
Bond and Natalya break into Trevelyan’s under-dish lair, which while in possession of what my podcasting buddy Stuart Layt calls a “Doom Screen”, also looks like a bland open plan office. The matching overalls and hard hats of villains gone by are no more, replaced no doubt by manila folders and novelty coffee mugs.
Literally googled “Novelty Coffee Mugs” and this came up. I didn’t chose the Jon Snow life, the Jon Snow life chose me.
Natalya sneaks off to hack the main frame (it’s IT stuff in the 90s, I assume that’s what she’s doing), while Bond starts causing a bit of distraction. He manages to set a bomb before allowing himself to be caught and have his possessions examined by Alec.
This proves important because after Natalya is discovered and brought down from the main frame, Boris winds up grabbing the exploding pen Q gave Bond and repeatedly clicking it, arming and disarming its fuse. Bond has to keep count as Boris twirls, clicks and unclicks. To this day I have no idea if the count is correct - but it’s excellent to watch Brosnan grit his jaw in concentration.
When Boris can’t undo Natalya’s instructions to the satellite to re-enter the atmosphere and burn up, he yells at her to give him the codes (take that, tech bros), Bond flings the now armed pen towards the fuel tanks and uses the explosion to escape.
So you see, no matter what anyone says, exploding pens WORK.
You shut your smug mouth.
With the risk that the satellite could be re-positioned and still fired, Bond goes to fuck up the actual antenna manually. He’s confronted of course but Trevelyan, who is still a physical match for Bond. Their fight is brutal, and winds up vertical, with both men dangling from the antenna (courtesy of green screen compositing for the first time in a Bond film).
Alec is surprised to see Natalya pop up from behind the pilot in the helicopter gunship he radioed to help him; Bond manages to utilise that to flip him off balance and grab him by the foot.
“For England, James?” Alec sneers. “No, for me,” Bond replies as he lets the other shoe drop.
Alec hits the dish like a sack of borscht, but somehow doesn’t die on impact. Bond is able to jump onto the helicopter’s landing bars and be carried away as the whole antenna structure collapses down onto Trevelyan’s face. And lo, another iconic Sean Bean onscreen death came to pass.
Jack Wade makes a final comedic entrance at the very end, summoning the Marines from their hiding spots exactly in the clearing where Bond and Natalya were dropped by the chopper and started making out.
Cut to Bond sweeping Natalya off her feet to get into a chopper, a somewhat strange closing titles song, and BOOM. Movie OVER. Victory COMPLETE.
Poor Boris received the …cold shoulder.
Goldeneye remains the best of the Pierce Brosnan Bond films, and a testament to all involved that it was that good straight out of the gate.
Holding it all together was a confident, stylish debut from Pierce Brosnan, relishing the role he'd long coveted, and adroitly dancing between Sean Connery’s steeliness and Roger Moore’s humour while bringing both a self-assuredness and a vulnerability to the character that was all his own.
This film clearly had a huge impact on me, and remains one of my key Bond favourites.
The fact that it grossed more than $350 million in worldwide box office is not just a reflection of nostalgia for the franchise after a six-year hiatus, but for its genuine thrills and fantastic characters. The enforced and yet ultimately refreshing break breathed new life into the series, and we can thank GoldenEye that we still have Bond today.
Thank you for reading this instalment of the James Bond Retrospective! If you enjoyed it, you can sign up to support the series and my other writing/podcasting efforts via my Patreon page. Thanks to all of you who are already members; your support is truly invaluable. You can listen to the companion Raven Bond Goldeneye podcast here:
Stu and I are also ranking the Bond films as we watch and podcast about them. Here’s how we stand:
Next time we get media savvy with Tomorrow Never Dies