An interesting stage in the development of the Bond franchise. With more ambition and humour, bits of this film work and others don't, though generally it's a worthwhile entry into the canon.

The first SPECTRE scene is one of almost unbridled exposition, with a hint of parody creeping through. Rosa Klebb is a very daft creation, while there's an early post-modern moment as Matt Munro's sublime theme song plays on a radio.

Desmond Llewelyn makes his debut as Major Boothroyd (Q), a telling sign of how silly the series was to become, given that here he plays the part completely straight. Connery seems a tad smugger than last time, yet despite the odd signs of laziness it's still a considered performance.

Sexism makes its first real appearance in the series, from the belly dancer titles to the cleavages and Klebb's stereotyped lesbianism. Also a shock to see Bond slapping a woman. Best of all though is a wrestling match between two scantily-clad gypsy women which is entirely superfluous to the plot.

The dynamic of this one is the polar opposite of Dr. No: here the first half meanders, while the conclusion sees the pace tighten. This comes largely from the plot being more set-piece led than before. What exactly is the whole point of hte gypsy camp sequence anyway? Despite lasting for nearly ten minutes the film's structure would be unaffected by its removal. The whole film is a lot of effort for such a meagre premise (the transport to the West of a cipher machine) though again this is more espionage thriller than daffy action movie and so it's suitably rewarding.

The best scenes involve the nice direction of James being filmed making love and his clash with Red Grant. The film-twisting conceit of Grant's plan ("I get a kick out of watching the great James Bond find out what a bloody fool he's been making of himself.") is a brilliant touch and hugely advances the picture's standing. Thankfully these key scenes are delivered with gusto, and lack the sense of the ridiculous that these "villain talks before hero unexpectedly gets the upperhand" scenes usually incur.

As usual for a Connery Bond it contains - filmed backdrops and dubbing notwithstanding - impressive production values that went astray for the sloppier Lazenby/Moore entries. Though being well put together cannot fully compensate for a paucity of plot, as is the case here.

As a carefully mounted love letter to Hitchcock From Russia With Love is one of the better 007 movies, if not the best the series had to offer.