Every Bond Girl Ranked - Worst To Best
3. Pussy Galore (Goldfinger, 1963)
The original Queen Bee of the Bond franchise, the preposterously yet also gloriously named Pussy Galore enjoys a lofty placement in the upper echelon of Bond Girls due to her iconic stature, no-nonsense demeanour and clear position of authority and respect.
There’s also the fact that without her timely intervention, the villainous Auric Goldfinger’s devilish scheme would surely have succeeded, and 007 would have been blown to smithereens along with the entire gold supply of the United States.
From her introduction as Goldfinger’s personal pilot and commander of her own aerial Flying Circus, any lingering doubts as to her competence and strength are quickly dismissed. Holding James Bond at gunpoint several times and at one point even besting him physically with her judo abilities, Pussy Galore is no simpering princess.
There’s perhaps no better encapsulation of this than the sight of Pussy standing tall after flinging Bond like a rag-doll and demanding the gun he stole from one of Goldfinger’s dimwitted guards, the rest of them positioned well behind her, rifles at the ready. The whole sequence carries the air of soldiers having to run and get their mother to give 007 a good telling off.
Even Goldfinger himself speaks to her gingerly and respectfully, as if in deference to her position as the very elite amongst his ranks. Other than Oddjob, Pussy Galore is very much portrayed as the most dangerous subordinate Goldfinger has at his disposal.
And what a henchwoman she’d have made, if not for 007’s enchanted penis.
Best moment: “My name is Pussy Galore.” Few could pull this line off like Honor Blackman while still retaining her dignity and commanding presence. “I must be dreaming” replies a stunned 007.
Worst moment: A rough tumble in the haystack and very forceful kiss from Bond’s magic lips is enough to turn an adamant lesbian into a swooning 007 conquest. Yikes. An incredibly dated and embarrassing scene is rendered even more so by the current social climate. Consent is like gravity, it seems; all it takes is a little push.