Honor Blackman (pussy Galore) R.i.p.

thirteenbyseven

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Honor Blackman, James Bond's Pussy Galore, dies aged 94 | Film | The Guardian

An undeniably eerie aspect and quality with both still photographs or movies is they capture a moment in time. The image is frozen for an eternity as it existed. So when I saw that British actress Honor Blackman had passed away at the age of 94 I sat bolt upright. How could this be? She will always be that young femme fatale Lockheed Jetstar pilot who captured Sean Connery's fancy in Goldfinger. Though it was made years before I was born, I nevertheless loved the British tongue-in-cheek James Bond spy thriller and the casting of really hot women as (gasp) sex objects. And the airplanes! Even as a teenager I loved flying.

Shortly before filming began in 1964, businessman William T. Piper opened a modern general aviation factory in Vero Beach, Florida to churn-out an updated version of the single-engine Thorp Sky Scooter. In keeping with his company's new marketing strategy of naming aircraft after Indian tribes, it was called the Cherokee. Piper desperately wanted a new-generation of 1960s pilots to know that his company could produce something besides the ubiquitous yellow rag-wing J-3 Cub that had trained thousands of WW-II era pilots.

Piper, a fan of James Bond, approached producer Cubby Broccoli about the possibility of using his airplanes free-of-charge in his upcoming movie. Broccoli in-turn, who had always loved airplanes, was instantly intrigued by the offer. And since the role of Pussy Galore--Goldfinder's personal pilot-- had already been set in stone, Broccoli quickly ordered a re-write to include a scene with a beautiful collection of flying wenches, henceforth known as Pussy Galore's Flying Circus. What transpired up on the screen took a dazzling degree of suspension-of-disbelief on the part of movie goers. Shot in less than two days, five of Piper's company pilots flew low over Ft. Knox in low-wing Piper Cherokees, some quickly embossed with an additional company name Piper on the lower cowling. The scene called for the flying armada of "pussies" to release knock-out gas to overcome soldiers guarding the fort. But hindered by a tight shooting schedule, the fainting actors timing was more than a little off.

 
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thirteenbyseven

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As many can no-doubt deduce, when U.S. censors first caught light of the name Pussy Galore on the film's promotional literature, lips puckered and anuses tightened. The MPAA film rating system was not yet in-effect-- that was four-years in the future in 1968-- so a few chosen uppity-ups in Hollywood were given the unenviable task how to sell a puritanical American public that a name every schoolboy knew the meaning of, was simply an innocent British turn-of-phrase. Along the way they encountered a few horrified deep south Bible thumpers and the odd small town chamber of commerce who were sure it would lead to irretrievable moral decay. But in the end, it was agreed that Honor Blackman's character would simply be described as "Goldfinger's personal pilot" for any marketing and/or promotional purposes here in the colonies.

"Who are you?"
"My name is Pussy Galore."
"I must be dreaming."


 

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I find it sad that Americans feel a need to censor names like "Pussy Galore", so that white bread America is not offended. White bread America was somehow unbothered by the decline of the inner cities, persistent racism, sexism or homophobia.

I cringe, when I hear people refer to that period as "the good old days".
 
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