Nagy, Bill

Goldfinger

Dry as ice, dripping with deadpan witticisms, only Sean Connery's Bond would dare disparage the Beatles, that other 1964 phenomenon. No one but Connery can believably seduce women so effortlessly, kill with almost as much ease, and then pull another bottle of Dom Perignon '53 out of the fridge. Goldfinger contains many of the most memorable scenes in the Bond series: gorgeous Shirley Eaton (as Jill Masterson) coated in gold paint by evil Auric Goldfinger and deposited in Bond's bed; silent Oddjob, flipping a razor-sharp derby like a Frisbee to sever heads; our hero spread-eagle on a table while a laser beam moves threateningly toward his crotch. Honor Blackman's Pussy Galore is the prototype for the series' rash of man-hating supermodels. And Desmond Llewelyn reprises his role as Q, giving Bond what is still his most impressive car, a snazzy little number that fires off smoke screens, punctures the tires of vehicles on the chase, and boasts a handy ejector seat. Goldfinger's two climaxes, inside Fort Knox and aboard a private plane, have to be seen to be believed. --Raphael Shargel

To own Goldfinger (1964) on digital video disc is to have at your fingertips the proof that Sean Connery is the definitive James Bond. Dry as ice, dripping with deadpan witticisms, only Connery's Bond would dare disparage the Beatles, that other 1964 phenomenon. No one but Connery can believably seduce women so effortlessly, kill with almost as much ease, and then pull another bottle of Dom Perignon '53 out of the fridge. Goldfinger contains many of the most memorable scenes in the Bond series: gorgeous Shirley Eaton (as Jill Masterson) coated in gold paint by evil Auric Goldfinger and deposited in Bond's bed; silent Oddjob, flipping a razor-sharp derby like a Frisbee to sever heads; our hero spread-eagle on a table while a laser beam moves threateningly toward his crotch. Honor Blackman's Pussy Galore is the prototype for the series' rash of man-hating supermodels. And Desmond Llewelyn makes his first appearance as Q, giving Bond what is still his most impressive car, a snazzy little number that fires off smoke screens, punctures the tires of vehicles on the chase, and boasts a handy ejector seat. Goldfinger's two climaxes, inside Fort Knox and aboard a private plane, have to be seen to be believed. --Raphael Shargel

From the opening bomb blast outside a steamy nightclub to a last-minute escape from the president's personal jet, James Bond's third screen adventure is an exhilarating, pulse-pounding thrill-ride! Sean Connery takes command as Agent 007 and faces off wit

Goldfinger (Special Edition)

Dry as ice, dripping with deadpan witticisms, only Sean Connery's Bond would dare disparage the Beatles, that other 1964 phenomenon. No one but Connery can believably seduce women so effortlessly, kill with almost as much ease, and then pull another bottle of Dom Perignon '53 out of the fridge. Goldfinger contains many of the most memorable scenes in the Bond series: gorgeous Shirley Eaton (as Jill Masterson) coated in gold paint by evil Auric Goldfinger and deposited in Bond's bed; silent Oddjob, flipping a razor-sharp derby like a Frisbee to sever heads; our hero spread-eagle on a table while a laser beam moves threateningly toward his crotch. Honor Blackman's Pussy Galore is the prototype for the series' rash of man-hating supermodels. And Desmond Llewelyn reprises his role as Q, giving Bond what is still his most impressive car, a snazzy little number that fires off smoke screens, punctures the tires of vehicles on the chase, and boasts a handy ejector seat. Goldfinger's two climaxes, inside Fort Knox and aboard a private plane, have to be seen to be believed. --Raphael Shargel

To own Goldfinger (1964) on digital video disc is to have at your fingertips the proof that Sean Connery is the definitive James Bond. Dry as ice, dripping with deadpan witticisms, only Connery's Bond would dare disparage the Beatles, that other 1964 phenomenon. No one but Connery can believably seduce women so effortlessly, kill with almost as much ease, and then pull another bottle of Dom Perignon '53 out of the fridge. Goldfinger contains many of the most memorable scenes in the Bond series: gorgeous Shirley Eaton (as Jill Masterson) coated in gold paint by evil Auric Goldfinger and deposited in Bond's bed; silent Oddjob, flipping a razor-sharp derby like a Frisbee to sever heads; our hero spread-eagle on a table while a laser beam moves threateningly toward his crotch. Honor Blackman's Pussy Galore is the prototype for the series' rash of man-hating supermodels. And Desmond Llewelyn makes his first appearance as Q, giving Bond what is still his most impressive car, a snazzy little number that fires off smoke screens, punctures the tires of vehicles on the chase, and boasts a handy ejector seat. Goldfinger's two climaxes, inside Fort Knox and aboard a private plane, have to be seen to be believed. --Raphael Shargel

Countess From Hong Kong

Charlie Chaplin's last film is the cinematic equivalent of Willie Mays staying too long in baseball--a sad farewell from someone who has clearly lost his touch. Marlon Brando (who famously did not get along with Chaplin and initiated, with this film, his curious habit of undermining his directors' best intentions) plays an American millionaire leaving Hong Kong to assume an ambassadorship. He discovers Sophia Loren--playing a daughter of Russian aristocrats and a former gangster moll--concealed in his closet onboard the outbound ship, hoping to gain passage to the States. Brando, looking none too pleased, agrees to help her, with not terribly comic or romantic results. Chaplin's one modestly clever touch is to have the camera rock gently and slowly back and forth, ostensibly emulating the movement of the luxury liner. The humor falls flat, Brando and Loren have no chemistry, and the story isn't terribly engaging. The former Little Tramp appears, mercifully briefly, as a seasick steward who opens and closes a door, swooning in between. Appropriately enough, in silence. --David Kronke

Across the Bridge

From a novel by Graham Greene, Rod Steiger plays an unscrupulous financier who has absconded to Mexico with company funds. A genius at improvisation, he evades the authorities and concocts a scheme whereby he will murder a man, dispose of the body and assume the dead man's identitie. He soon learns the dead man whose identity he assumed was an even more notorious fugitive from justice.

The Girl Hunters

Mickey Spillane plays his own creation, street-thug-turned-PI Mike Hammer, in this 1963 adaptation of his novel. The film opens with Hammer on the downside of a years-long bender, scooped out of the gutter by a bitter cop intent on prying information from a dying man. Inspired to clean up his act by the secrets he hears, Hammer hits the streets on a personal crusade to find the love of his life. Future Bond girl Shirley Earton costars as a glamorous society widow who goes slumming with Hammer. Spillane, who brings the grace of a trained monkey and the sex appeal of a Bronx cheer to the role, is less a stoic, tarnished street knight than a street bum at a cocktail party, but it works for the working-class pug. The low-budget production is a rare black-and-white CinemaScope picture, rough and messy but lacking the raw edge and gritty look of more accomplished crime pictures. B-movie veteran Roy Rowland directs with a lazy pace and a prosaic style that drags until he takes his camera to streets of New York City. The definitive Hammer remains Ralph Meeker in Robert Aldrich's Kiss Me Deadly, but Spillane makes a respectable runner-up. --Sean Axmaker

It's outrageous good fun! Writer Mickey Spillane stars as his hard-boiled private detective Mike Hammer in this action-packed murder mystery. After seven years on a drunken binge over the disappearance of Velda, his former secretary, Hammer is picked up out of the gutter by the police and dropped smack-dab in the middle of a political bombshell where every lead seems to end in murder. After being told his beloved Velda is still alive, but being held by the Dragon, an infamous international assassin and leader of a spy ring, Hammer sets out to find her. With only guts and attitude to get him by, Hammer gets deeper and deeper into a conspiracy that surrounds him on all sides, threatening his and Velda's lives.

Mark of the Hawk

First Man into Space

The early reels of First Man into Space should delight fans of the Mercury/Sputnik era in rocket technology... though it may delight fans of low-budget '50s sci-fi even more. A small manned rocket, launched from a jet cruising at high altitude, manages to poke its nose up about 250 miles above the earth---thus making its cocky, reckless pilot the (you guessed it) first man into space. Unfortunately, weird cosmic debris clings to the spacecraft when it crash-lands, and also to the astronaut: he's now covered with a layer of scaly, sparkly space rock. To put it in technical terms, the returned pilot is categorized as "a great big lumbering deformed monster." He's lumbering around a rocket facility in New Mexico, and the monster-pilot's brother (played by the always sober, always reliable Marshall Thompson) must find the thing before it kills again. Oddly enough, once the cheesy space-flight FX wear off, First Man into Space turns into a competent and surprisingly thoughtful thriller; give this movie some points for at least trying to emphasize the science in its fiction. --Robert Horton

A cocky test pilot takes his experimental aircraft higher than anyone has ever flown before--and he is bombarded by cosmic rays and crashes without a trace, until a mysterious string of vampire-like killings occur.

Goldfinger

To own Goldfinger (1964) on digital video disc is to have at your fingertips the proof that Sean Connery is the definitive James Bond. Dry as ice, dripping with deadpan witticisms, only Connery's Bond would dare disparage the Beatles, that other 1964 phenomenon. No one but Connery can believably seduce women so effortlessly, kill with almost as much ease, and then pull another bottle of Dom Perignon '53 out of the fridge. Goldfinger contains many of the most memorable scenes in the Bond series: gorgeous Shirley Eaton (as Jill Masterson) coated in gold paint by evil Auric Goldfinger and deposited in Bond's bed; silent Oddjob, flipping a razor-sharp derby like a Frisbee to sever heads; our hero spread-eagle on a table while a laser beam moves threateningly toward his crotch. Honor Blackman's Pussy Galore is the prototype for the series' rash of man-hating supermodels. And Desmond Llewelyn makes his first appearance as Q, giving Bond what is still his most impressive car, a snazzy little number that fires off smoke screens, punctures the tires of vehicles on the chase, and boasts a handy ejector seat. Goldfinger's two climaxes, inside Fort Knox and aboard a private plane, have to be seen to be believed. --Raphael Shargel

Goldfinger [Region 2]

Dry as ice, dripping with deadpan witticisms, only Sean Connery's Bond would dare disparage the Beatles, that other 1964 phenomenon. No one but Connery can believably seduce women so effortlessly, kill with almost as much ease, and then pull another bottle of Dom Perignon '53 out of the fridge. Goldfinger contains many of the most memorable scenes in the Bond series: gorgeous Shirley Eaton (as Jill Masterson) coated in gold paint by evil Auric Goldfinger and deposited in Bond's bed; silent Oddjob, flipping a razor-sharp derby like a Frisbee to sever heads; our hero spread-eagle on a table while a laser beam moves threateningly toward his crotch. Honor Blackman's Pussy Galore is the prototype for the series' rash of man-hating supermodels. And Desmond Llewelyn reprises his role as Q, giving Bond what is still his most impressive car, a snazzy little number that fires off smoke screens, punctures the tires of vehicles on the chase, and boasts a handy ejector seat. Goldfinger's two climaxes, inside Fort Knox and aboard a private plane, have to be seen to be believed. --Raphael Shargel

To own Goldfinger (1964) on digital video disc is to have at your fingertips the proof that Sean Connery is the definitive James Bond. Dry as ice, dripping with deadpan witticisms, only Connery's Bond would dare disparage the Beatles, that other 1964 phenomenon. No one but Connery can believably seduce women so effortlessly, kill with almost as much ease, and then pull another bottle of Dom Perignon '53 out of the fridge. Goldfinger contains many of the most memorable scenes in the Bond series: gorgeous Shirley Eaton (as Jill Masterson) coated in gold paint by evil Auric Goldfinger and deposited in Bond's bed; silent Oddjob, flipping a razor-sharp derby like a Frisbee to sever heads; our hero spread-eagle on a table while a laser beam moves threateningly toward his crotch. Honor Blackman's Pussy Galore is the prototype for the series' rash of man-hating supermodels. And Desmond Llewelyn makes his first appearance as Q, giving Bond what is still his most impressive car, a snazzy little number that fires off smoke screens, punctures the tires of vehicles on the chase, and boasts a handy ejector seat. Goldfinger's two climaxes, inside Fort Knox and aboard a private plane, have to be seen to be believed. --Raphael Shargel

Goldfinger [Region 2]

Dry as ice, dripping with deadpan witticisms, only Sean Connery's Bond would dare disparage the Beatles, that other 1964 phenomenon. No one but Connery can believably seduce women so effortlessly, kill with almost as much ease, and then pull another bottle of Dom Perignon '53 out of the fridge. Goldfinger contains many of the most memorable scenes in the Bond series: gorgeous Shirley Eaton (as Jill Masterson) coated in gold paint by evil Auric Goldfinger and deposited in Bond's bed; silent Oddjob, flipping a razor-sharp derby like a Frisbee to sever heads; our hero spread-eagle on a table while a laser beam moves threateningly toward his crotch. Honor Blackman's Pussy Galore is the prototype for the series' rash of man-hating supermodels. And Desmond Llewelyn reprises his role as Q, giving Bond what is still his most impressive car, a snazzy little number that fires off smoke screens, punctures the tires of vehicles on the chase, and boasts a handy ejector seat. Goldfinger's two climaxes, inside Fort Knox and aboard a private plane, have to be seen to be believed. --Raphael Shargel

To own Goldfinger (1964) on digital video disc is to have at your fingertips the proof that Sean Connery is the definitive James Bond. Dry as ice, dripping with deadpan witticisms, only Connery's Bond would dare disparage the Beatles, that other 1964 phenomenon. No one but Connery can believably seduce women so effortlessly, kill with almost as much ease, and then pull another bottle of Dom Perignon '53 out of the fridge. Goldfinger contains many of the most memorable scenes in the Bond series: gorgeous Shirley Eaton (as Jill Masterson) coated in gold paint by evil Auric Goldfinger and deposited in Bond's bed; silent Oddjob, flipping a razor-sharp derby like a Frisbee to sever heads; our hero spread-eagle on a table while a laser beam moves threateningly toward his crotch. Honor Blackman's Pussy Galore is the prototype for the series' rash of man-hating supermodels. And Desmond Llewelyn makes his first appearance as Q, giving Bond what is still his most impressive car, a snazzy little number that fires off smoke screens, punctures the tires of vehicles on the chase, and boasts a handy ejector seat. Goldfinger's two climaxes, inside Fort Knox and aboard a private plane, have to be seen to be believed. --Raphael Shargel