A look at Thunderball, Sean Connery’s fourth outing as 007, which celebrates its 60th anniversary this year.
On 26th February 1977, I sat down with the rest of my family to watch Thunderball on TV. It was the film’s first ever screening on British television and, like the three films that came before it, the whole family sat down that evening to watch it together.
By this time I was a devoted fan of 007 and, while my only big screen experience of Bond was The Man With the Golden Gun with my dad, I’d read most of the books. It’s hard to imagine it now, but in those pre-VHS days, we all relied on ITV for our fix of 007 and watching the Bond films as they came on TV every six months or so became part of family life across Britain.
Made at the peak of Bond-mania during the 1960s spy craze, for many years Thunderball was the series’ biggest earner when adjusted for inflation. Originally it was going to be the first James Bond film produced by Eon Productions, but when Ian Fleming was sued for plagiarism prior to the release of his novel, Cubby Broccoli and Harry Saltzman realised it was too risky to continue with the project. Instead, they turned their attention to Dr No.
Published in 1961, Fleming had based Thunderball on the screenplay for an abandoned Bond project. However, he had neglected to secure the permission of co-writers Kevin McClory and Jack Whittingham, and hadn’t even credited their contributions. The court case was eventually heard in 1963, but after two weeks the two sides reached a settlement. Future editions of the novel were to acknowledge McClory and Whittingham, while the film rights went to McClory.
Wary of a rival James Bond film, Broccoli and Saltzman approached McClory when it came to making the fourth Bond movie. As part of this arrangement Kevin McClory received the producers credit for Thunderball, not Broccoli and Saltzman. Although Guy Hamilton had taken over directing duties for Goldfinger the previous year, Terence Young came back for his third and final Bond, which was going to be even bigger in every respect.
After filming was completed in May the film went into furious post-production phase, but the shear scale of Thunderball meant that its planned September 1965 release was soon delayed. Things were so hectic that John Barry hadn’t even recorded all the film’s music by the time the soundtrack album was released in October, something only put right with the remastered 2003 release.
Thunderball was finally unveiled in Tokyo on 9th December 1965, followed by the US and UK on 22nd and 28th December – and the world went Bond crazy. While it remains in the top spot for inflation-adjusted domestic box office, it was only in 2012 that Skyfall overtook it in worldwide earnings.
Undersea reflections
While I’d loved all the films I’d seen up to that point, Thunderball had the edge for me. As a kid I’d avidly watch The Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau with my parents and was absolutely obsessed by scuba diving. For my sixth birthday I’d received a scuba outfit for my Action Man (the UK version of GI Joe) and a few years later started snorkelling with an orange mask and fins my dad bought us for a holiday is Spain. While I don’t remember that first viewing, what could possibly beat a James Bond film with scuba diving? And, more than that, it has a great plot, gorgeous Bahamas locations, and Sean Connery totally inhabits the role.
I’ve always loved the book too. Probably I read it before seeing the film, but I’ll never be able to be absolutely sure. The film is a pretty faithful adaptation of the book, which shouldn’t be all that surprising given that Thunderball started off life as a film project. And while Fleming’s unauthorised use of those film scripts when writing the book landed him is court, and the stress of that likely contributed to his early death, I wonder how much it benefitted from the work of three writers to shape the story. With its plot of stolen atomic bombs, it played right into the paranoia of the atomic age.
Atomic Bond
In some ways Thunderball actually pre-figured the times. While the film was released just three years after the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis – usually considered the closest we’ve been to nuclear war – the novel was published in 1961 and the unused film scripts were from two years before that.
It’s little wonder that Broccoli and Saltzman wanted to start with Thunderball, they could see it was ahead of the times. The notion of a shadowy organization like SPECTRE snatching nuclear warheads was both a larger-than-life fantasy and a reflection of very real fears. The film tapped into the anxiety that the Cold War could erupt into something far more catastrophic. It was ahead of its time in the ’60s and remains eerily relevant today. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, the spectre (sorry, couldn’t resist) of rogue states or non-state actors getting their hands on nuclear weapons kept that old fear alive – and even in 2025 that fear hasn’t gone away. In this way, Thunderball bridges decades, reminding us that some dangers never quite fade and that the world of Connery’s Bond, for all its glamour, was always rooted in the anxieties of the real one.
One of Thunderball’s undeniable strengths lies in its lush, immersive use of location. The early Bond films had a knack for making their settings feel like living, breathing characters, and Thunderball is a perfect example. Unlike the modern Bonds that hop from one location to another, here we linger in the Bahamas long enough to let Nassau’s sun-soaked charm seep into the narrative. Just like the Fleming novels, the setting is part of the story’s soul rather than a backdrop, so for someone who loves the sea as much as I do, that sunlit escapism is all part of the allure. And I just can’t see why so many fans find Thunderball’s underwater sequences slow it down. That’s precisely where Thunderball finds its magic.
Some fans still quibble over whether Tom Jones’ title song was the right choice or if Mr Kiss Kiss Bang Bang should have headlined, but sixty years after it premiered is too late to go back and start meddling. John Barry’s music may not surpass his work on Goldfinger, but it’s still immensely evocative. In fact, I first bought the 2003 remastered soundtrack because – quite surreally – my mind would play the underwater cues on repeat while scuba diving.
As for the gadgets, I’ve always preferred Bond when he relies on his wits rather than his toys. But the DB5 makes a welcome return in the pre-title sequence, and there’s both the jetpack and rebreather as well as the Geiger-counter watch. Meanwhile SPECTRE has a rocket firing motorbike, various underwater vehicles, and the Disco Volante with its detachable stern section. That blend of plot, locations, memorable music, and just the right dash of slightly OTT gadgetry make Thunderball a film worth revisiting time and again.
In the end, Thunderball remains a quintessential slice of classic Bond. It captures Sean Connery at the height of his powers, embodying the role in a way that defined not just the character but an entire era of 1960s spy mania. For long-time fans, it’s a trip back to the golden age of the franchise, and for newcomers, it’s a window into why Bond became the cultural icon he is. Sure, some elements may be larger than life, but that’s part of the enduring charm. At the end of the day, Thunderball stands at the top of the list for me, a film that still dazzles, entertains, and reminds us why we fell in love with 007 in the first place.
