The Spy Who Loved Me (1977)

The Spy Who Loved Me is the rare Bond film that feels like the series clicking into perfect, crowd-pleasing rhythm: glamorous locations, a genuinely high-stakes Cold War hook, and set pieces so inventive they still play like a magic trick. Roger Moore’s Bond is at his breeziest and most assured here, balancing wry humor with enough edge to keep the danger real, while Barbara Bach’s Anya gives the movie a spark of equal-partner tension that’s more than just flirtation. Lewis Gilbert stages the action with sleek confidence—whether it’s a balletic brawl, a larger-than-life villain scheme, or that famously outrageous gadgetry—anchored by Curd Jürgens’ icy megalomaniac and the unforgettable, steel-toothed menace of Jaws. If you prefer Bond grim and grounded, this one’s more champagne-and-fireworks than hard bourbon, but if you want the franchise at its most purely entertaining, it’s an easy yes.

The Spy Who Loved Me is clearly aiming for peak “bigger, shinier Bond,” stacking globe-trotting set pieces, iconic gadgets, and a larger-than-life villain plot to deliver crowd-pleasing spectacle. If you’re looking for tight suspense, real danger, or a consistently gripping pace, this one can feel like it’s coasting after an electric opening—lots of noise and scale, not always much tension. It also wants Anya Amasova to be Bond’s equal, but the film doesn’t fully commit, and some of the gender politics and flirtation beats will read dated or frustrating. Still, Roger Moore’s charm, the sheer ambition of the production, and a couple of genuinely memorable action moments make it worthwhile if you’re in the mood for classic, glossy Bond rather than a lean thriller.