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Goldfinger may have been the third James Bond film, but it was the first to mix the 007 formula perfectly: shaken not stirred. Lightening the tone after Dr No and From Russia With Love, director Guy Hamilton delivers a crowd-pleasing blend of girls, gadgets and gags. From the moment Sean Connery's MI6 agent dispatches a thug by throwing an electric heater into a bathtub ("shocking!") or slides into his hi-tech Aston Martin DB5 for the first time, it's obvious this is the best of Bonds.

The far-fetched plot strikes just the right note of diabolical menace as international bullion dealer Auric Goldfinger (Gert Frobe) schemes to detonate a nuclear warhead inside Fort Knox. On his trail is Connery's suave, smirking Bond, a man of cruel charisma and ruthless sex appeal. Hardly a scene goes by without a moment that's been engraved into the popular imagination: 007 being threatened with a laser beam vasectomy ("Do you expect me to talk?"; "No, Mr Bond, I expect you to die!"); Pussy Galore (Honor Blackman) purring over Connery in a haystack romp; or Oddjob (Harold Sakata) terminating people with his steel-brimmed bowler.

"ESTABLISHES THE BOND FILM AS A GENRE"

Ian Fleming visited Pinewood during shooting but died before the movie's release. No doubt he would have approved of producer Albert R. Broccoli's perfection of the 007 myth. Goldfinger is more than just a spy thriller; it establishes the Bond film as a genre all of its own. Forty-three years after its original release it's obviously dated: Bond's gripe about needing earmuffs to listen to The Beatles clangs off-screen and Hamilton's rear-projected European locations are jarring. Yet what's incredible is how authoritative Connery still seems. Moore, Lazenby, Dalton and Brosnan never came close to that; if Daniel Craig really wants to be 007's no.1 star, this is the Bond he's going to have to beat.

Goldfinger is out in the UK on 27th July 2007.