The Wrecking Crew (1968)

What makes The Wrecking Crew special is how unapologetically it turns the spy movie into a swinging, candy-colored party—part James Bond riff, part lounge-act comedy, all 1960s attitude. Dean Martin glides through the mayhem with a wry, relaxed charm, while the film keeps tossing out gadgets, fistfights, and glossy set pieces like it can’t wait to entertain you again. The vibe is pure camp: playful, flirtatious, and happily ridiculous, with Elke Sommer and Sharon Tate adding sparkle and presence that keep the screen alive. It’s not for viewers hunting gritty realism or tight logic, but if you’re in the mood for a breezy, stylish time capsule that knows exactly how to have fun, this one delivers.

The Wrecking Crew is trying to be a breezy, gadget-filled spy spoof in the Bond era, with Dean Martin coasting on charm while the plot lurches from set piece to set piece. The problem is the “comedy” often leans hard on dated sexism and ogling, and the action can feel sloppy rather than thrilling, like it’s daring you to laugh at it for the wrong reasons. If you’re hoping for sharp satire, competent espionage thrills, or anything resembling modern sensibilities, this will likely test your patience. Still, there’s some campy late-60s color and a bit of star-powered fun (including Sharon Tate’s presence) if you’re in the mood for a kitschy time capsule rather than a good spy movie.