drag for no other reason than to get a cheap
laugh. Actor Charles Gray’s contribution was
an irritable Blofeld, who smirked through his
monologues waving a cigarette holder around
like an orchestra conductor.
Diamonds’ Blofeld is introduced with
a plastic-surgery subplot, which explains his
inconsistent features, but has little bearing on
the story. His scheme is a little confusing, but
amounts to the theft of numerous diamonds
in order to build a space laser to destroy the
nuclear weaponry of whichever country doesn’t
cough up enough cash. As with the Bond fi lms
themselves, Blofeld has always responded to
contemporary trends, whether in fashion,
demeanour or villainous schemes ripped from
the day’s headlines.
The climactic battle on an oil rig sees
Bond (Connery) take control of Blofeld’s
one-man aquatic escape pod with a crane and
repeatedly dunk it in the sea, as if that somehow
sates his vengeance for his wife’s murder. Still,
it seemed to work, because Blofeld subsequently
disappeared from the Bond fi lms for a decade.
And even when he returned, it was only to
briefl y drop in.
The real reason for Blofeld’s absence lay in
his literary origins. Thunderball’s co-creator
Kevin McClory claimed the screen rights to
SPECTRE and Blofeld and, after allowing their
use for ten years, had withdrawn them to work
on his own Bond project, 1983’s unoffi cial Never
Say Never Again.
So in an attempt to bury the past, Eon
crafted a bonkers opening for 1981’s For Your
Eyes Only which appeared to fi nally lay the
spectre of SPECTRE to rest.
Bond (Roger Moore) finds himself trapped
in a helicopter, radio-controlled by a familiar-
looking evildoer in a wheelchair. His face isn’t
seen — John Hollis provides the body; Robert
Rietty the voice — but he’s bald, wears a grey
suit and strokes a fluffy white cat. It doesn’t take
an evil genius to suss the sadistic slaphead’s
implied identity.
When Bond regains control of the chopper
and scoops his antagonist up with it, this
Blofeld (the sixth, by our reckoning) just
has time for one more personality change,
stooping so low as to beg Bond for mercy with
the bewildering offer of “a delicatessen in
stainless steel”. But Bond has no delicatessen
requirements, stainless steel or otherwise,
and unceremoniously dumps Blofeld down
an industrial chimney.
And that was that. Blofeld was finally,
indisputably, dead. Six films’ worth of evil plots,
including the murder of Mrs Bond, were casually
avenged in five minutes, and 007 could finally
Right: The
lesser lobed
Blofeld,
aka the
self-styled
Count de
Bleuchamp,
attempts to
woo Diana
Rigg’s
Countess
Tracy di
Vicenzo in On
Her Majesty’s
Secret Service.Danjaq, LLC and Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc. All rights reserved. Alamy, Shutterstock