Smarter than expected were the films of Sean Connery in the role of James Bond, a series that would eventually give way to the camp antics of Roger Moore. Still, its steamrolling under the wheels of Hollywood in its modern iterations makes that period of Moore a light delight. What Connery achieved was the production of a solid base for others to leap from. From Lazenby to Brosnan, each iteration that followed the Scottish-born pioneer felt like some pastiche of the role Connery had crafted. A line of dialogue here regurgitated thirty years down the line, a passing reference to the strong works that had come from his early days in the 007 role. Whatever the case, nobody mentions Thunderball all that much.