The James Bond franchise is known for its breathtaking locations, beautiful women, technical gadgets, rigorous action sequences, shootouts and good old-fashioned fist fights. Each movie has its own set of memorable moments, stunts and edge-of-your-seat action. When it came to setting the standard of great opening action sequences, nobody does it better than 007.
The pre-title sequence is a great tradition and sets the tone for the film, which usually sees 007 in the midst of a precarious assignment. **In the 70s, the Bond pre-title sequences got more bold, inventive and more action-packed than the previous decade. **They also served to lay the groundwork and develop the plot of each of these movies. Here is every pre-title sequence from Bond movies of the 70s, ranked.
Live and Let Die is the first James Bond film starring Roger Moore. It opens with three different British agents being killed off one by one in locations all over the world. First, a mysterious death at the United Nations in New York City, then a murder in the French Quarter of New Orleans, followed by a voodoo ritualistic death involving a deadly serpent on the fictional Caribbean island of San Monique.
It’s by far the worst of the opening scenes of the 70s. It fails to introduce Moore as Bond, but it does set up the plot of 007 investigating the murders, which eventually leads him to Dr. Kanaga, played by the late Yaphet Kotto. The pre-title sequence does get the plot moving, but it still feels like a missed opportunity.
Diamonds Are Forever reestablishes Sean Connery as 007 for the final time, excluding the 1983 clunker Never Say Never Again. It opens with Bond in the middle of a mission searching for Blofeld, who killed his wife at the end of On Her Majesty’s Secret Service. The scene does a great job of establishing Connery as 007 and immediately jumps into the action with fist fights, a sneaky gadget, mud baths and some amazing one-liners.
The pre-title sequence features one of Bond’s slickest lines; “There’s something I’d like to get off your chest.” He delivers the line as he takes the bikini top off a sunbathing woman and uses it to strangle her, as a means to find Blofeld. 007 eventually finds his man and discovers the plot to use plastic surgery to turn henchmen into Blofeld. Bond saves the day and sends the head of SPECTRE to hell, or so he thinks, in a bubbling cauldron of mud.
The Man with the Golden Gun marks Roger Moore’s second foray into playing James Bond. The opening sequence introduces Francisco Scaramanga, the world’s most expensive assassin, played brilliantly by Christopher Lee. He lives on a private island somewhere in the South China Sea with the beautiful “Andrea,” played by Maud Adams and Nick Nack, his petite and loyal servant.
A thug shows up to take on Scaramanga and Nick Nack shows him the way into his bizarre fun-house loaded with mirrors, hidden passengers and a maze. A cat and mouse chase takes place in a carnival-like atmosphere, which includes a player-piano in a western bar performing the melody of Lulu’s The Man with the Golden Gun.” Scaramanga uses several secret passages and sneaky tricks to win the duel in grand fashion. It’s a solid pre-title sequence, but the only appearance from 007 is a statue that Scaramanga shoots the fingers off at the end of the scene.
Moonraker has a thrilling pre-title sequence. The fast-paced scene begins with the *Moonraker *space shuttle being stolen from an airplane in mid-flight. Meanwhile, Bond is on a flight of his own kissing a flight attendant, who turns on 007. The pilot donning a parachute comes at Bond with a gun. A scuffle breaks out and Bond pushes the pilot out of the plane but then is pushed out himself by Jaws, the fan favorite villain played by Richard Keil.
Bond free falls without a parachute and eventually catches up with the pilot and wrestles the parachute off him and secures it for himself. Jaws sneaks up on Bond, and 007 pulls the chord opening the parachute, just in time to elude Jaws’ vicious teeth. Jaws has a memorable parachute malfunction that ends with a comedic landing. *Moonraker’*s pre-title sequence has humor, edge-of-your-seat action and some great one-liners.
The Spy Who Loved Me has the best pre-title sequence of the 70s and one of the greatest in franchise history. Director Lewis Gilbert captured an opening scene that is grand and took the pre-title sequence to the next level. It begins with a British nuclear submarine disappearing without a trace. England and Russia send their best agents to get to the bottom of the mystery.
Meanwhile, Bond is on assignment and getting cozy with a woman by the fire in Austria. He gets a message from headquarters to return to London immediately. He leaves the chalet on skis, while being chased by numerous henchmen. A thrilling ski chase takes place with accompanying music that is the funkiest 70s disco rock version of the Bond theme that is equal parts iconic and hilarious. Bond skis off a cliff as the music stops, creating an eerie quiet as he free falls until he employs his Union Jack parachute, while the classic Bond theme kicks in. The way the scene folds into the title sequence is phenomenal. Carly Simon’s “Nobody Does it Better,” sums up 007 and the pre-title sequence of The Spy Who Loved Me.
Your answers have pointed to one action hero above all others. This is the person built to have your back — for better or considerably, spectacularly worse.
Your partner doesn’t talk much, doesn’t need to, and will have assessed every threat in your immediate environment before you’ve finished your first sentence. John Rambo is not a man of plans or politics — he is a force of nature shaped by survival, loyalty, and a capacity for endurance that goes beyond anything training can produce. He will not leave you behind. He has never left anyone behind who deserved to come home. What you get with Rambo is the most capable, most quietly ferocious partner imaginable — one who has been through things that would have broken anyone else, and who chose to keep going anyway. You’ll never need to ask if he has your back. You’ll just know.
Your partner will arrive perfectly dressed, perfectly briefed, and with a cover story so convincing it’ll take you a moment to remember what’s actually true. James Bond is the most professionally dangerous person in any room he enters — and the most disarmingly charming, which is the point. He operates in a world of layers, where nothing is what it appears and every advantage is used without apology. You’ll never be bored. You’ll occasionally be furious. But when it matters — when the mission is genuinely on the line and the margin for error has collapsed to nothing — Bond is exactly the partner you want. He has survived things that have no business being survivable. He does it with style. That is not nothing.
Your partner will know the history, the language, the cultural context, and exactly why the thing everyone else is ignoring is actually the most important thing in the room. Indiana Jones is brilliant, reckless, and occasionally impossible — but he is also one of the most resourceful, most genuinely knowledgeable partners you could find yourself beside. He approaches every situation with a scholar’s eye and a brawler’s instinct, which is an unusual combination and a remarkably effective one. He hates snakes and gets personally attached to objects of historical significance, both of which will slow you down at least once. It doesn’t matter. What Indy brings is irreplaceable — and the adventures you’ll have together will be the kind people write books about. Assuming you survive them.
Your partner was not supposed to be here. He does not have the right equipment, the right information, or anything approaching the right odds. He has a sarcastic remark and an absolute refusal to accept that the situation is as bad as it looks. John McClane is the greatest accidental hero in the history of action cinema — a man whose superpower is stubbornness, whose contingency plan is improvisation, and whose capacity to absorb punishment and keep moving would be alarming if it weren’t so useful. He will complain the entire time. He will make it significantly more chaotic than it needed to be. And he will absolutely, unconditionally, without question come through when it counts. Yippee-ki-yay.
Your partner has already run seventeen scenarios by the time you’ve finished reading the briefing, and the plan he’s settled on involves at least two things that should be physically impossible. Ethan Hunt operates at the absolute edge of human capability — technically, physically, and intellectually — and he brings the same relentless precision to protecting his partners that he brings to dismantling organisations that shouldn’t exist. He is not easy to know and he will never fully tell you everything. But he will carry the weight of the mission so completely, so absolutely, that your job is simply to trust him — and the remarkable thing is that trusting him always turns out to be the right call. The mission will be impossible. He will complete it anyway.