黑料社

WHEN actress Honor Blackman died recently, aged 94, obituaries focussed on the highest-profile part in her long career 鈥� Pussy Galore in Goldfinger.

Bond movies are noted for their scores as much as their action sequences and glamorous locations, and a 黑料社 academic 鈥� a expert on film music 鈥� has conducted a detailed examination of how composer John Barry鈥檚 Goldfinger soundtrack reflects the role of Pussy Galore and the other female characters in the 1964 blockbuster 鈥� Sean Connery鈥檚 third outing as 007.

Senior lecturer  contributes a chapter on women and music in Goldfinger to the book , edited by Lisa Funnell.

Dr Haworth begins by arguing that music is a core component of any James Bond film and that John Barry鈥檚 musical universe is designed primarily to reinforce Bond鈥檚 own supremacy.  Aspects of the soundtrack associated with female characters 鈥渕ost commonly align themselves with Bond鈥檚 own view of women as potential conquests or adversaries,鈥� she writes.

 

Both Bond and his opponent Auric Goldfinger 鈥渃onsume鈥� women in a way that serves to highlight their characterisation as strong, powerful and selfish men, she continues.

鈥淏ut while Bond鈥檚 voracious sexual appetite is used to valorise his masculinity as a virile and irresistibly attractive 鈥榣adies鈥� man鈥�, Goldfinger鈥檚 attitude towards women is seen as a perverse extension of his warped personality.鈥�

Three women occupy significant roles in the plot of Goldfinger, but Pussy Galore is the most significant.

鈥淪he is witty and charismatic rather than withdrawn and surly; a powerful and favoured employee of Goldfinger instead of a lone wolf intent on revenge, and she enjoys exerting control over Bond as her prisoner,鈥� writes Dr Haworth, who then provides a detailed analysis of how the music soundtrack mirrors the shifting relationship between Galore and Bond.

Galore鈥檚 rejection of 007 is reflected in the fact that the ubiquitous Goldfinger theme is notably absent from the score when the two first meet.

But then 鈥淧ussy Galore鈥檚 sonic and sexual independence is brutally removed inside one of Goldfinger鈥檚 barns, where, after a wrestling match that results in a literal roll in the hay she capitulates to Bond鈥檚 forceful advances.  Despite the best efforts of the soundtrack to remain light-hearted in the first half of this sequence, mirroring Bond and Galore鈥檚 scrimmage with wind and string flourishes, music can do little to obfuscate the clarity of Galore鈥檚 repeated refusals to let Bond kiss her.

鈥淏ut, as her strength gives out, she is shown to relax and seemingly to enjoy Bond鈥檚 embrace, and perhaps not unexpectedly, Goldfinger strings enter languorously at this point, and the music becomes complicit in positioning this sequence as one of willing, rather than forced, submission.鈥�

Dr Haworth鈥檚 analysis of the music of Goldfinger and how it illuminates the film鈥檚 themes and gender relationships includes an appraisal of the contribution made by Shirley Bassey, who sang the film鈥檚 famous theme song, as she went on to do for later Bond films Diamonds Are Forever and Moonraker.

鈥淐elebrated now as a powerfully-voiced, occasionally tempestuous and always fabulously glamorous establishment figure, Bassey鈥檚 emergence into 1950s British cultural life was a rags to riches story that pitted burgeoning talent and tenacity against the hardships of life as a mixed-race teenage mother from Cardiff鈥檚 dockland,鈥� writes Dr Haworth.

鈥淗er Bond performances bring into play the diva鈥檚 complex, feminised (and sexualised) mix of despair, tragedy, celebration and survival.鈥�