The 15 Best James Bond Cars Ranked

Corgi produced the first toy James Bond car, an Aston Martin DB5 complete with ejector seat and retractable machine guns, in October 1965. "Goldfinger" had premiered over a year prior. The paint job wasn't even accurate — gold instead of silver, which made it look unfinished. As soon as it reached shelves, the diecast Aston became the first must-have Christmas toy.

Like his famously debonair creation, Ian Fleming cultivated a taste for the finer things in life. That extended to his garage, too; the author spent his $6,000 check for the "Casino Royale" film rights importing a raven black 1955 Ford Thunderbird. The world's greatest secret agent was a gearhead long before Hollywood came calling, with Bond showing off an already-antique 1930 Blower Bentley in the early novels. Today, just shy of 60 years after his first cinematic chase, Bond is inseparable from his keys. There is no 007 without an alternately souped-up or superpowered automobile within convenient getaway distance. To celebrate this most cinematic of cinematic traditions, here are James Bond's 15 finest cars.

Before James Bond was a multi-billion dollar enterprise and the second longest-running franchise in film history, he was the poor man's gun-for-hire. United Artists greenlit "Dr. No" with a budget of $900,000 and only later pitched in an additional $100,000, less than $10 million in modern dollars. It was tight enough that producers had to settle for the sportiest car they could find on location in Jamaica – the Sunbeam Alpine II.

Like the film surrounding it, the Alpine is a study in simple sophistication. It's boxy on the sides and pointy at both ends, a scrappier machine than its curvy progeny. The only trick up its sleeve is size; the Series II model was a full two-feet shorter than the Aston Martin DB5. Bond demonstrates by squeezing the car under a parked crane and forcing his pursuers off a cliff.

The Sunbeam Alpine II may be quaint in retrospect, but it made the mold. Bond was just as dangerous on the road as he was everywhere else. His one-liner at the end of the chase stands as an ice-cold threat to all challengers on the road: "I think they were on their way to a funeral."

Bond's first trip to Japan provided a last-ditch opportunity for Toyota. In the years after World War II, the country's auto industry rebounded with small, sensible cars aimed at professionals in its fast-growing economy. Function was first, form a distant second. The Japanese manufacturers couldn't compete with European luxury and didn't — not until the Toyota 2000GT.

When Bond co-producer Albert Broccoli spotted a prototype at the 1965 Tokyo Motor Show, he couldn't imagine a better set of wheels to shuttle around his pet spy. He was so taken and Toyota so invested that two custom Roadster versions of the 2000GT were commissioned for the production to accommodate Sean Connery's 6'5" frame. Even though 007 only rode shotgun, with the driving capably handled by his SIS counterpart Aki (Akiko Wakabayashi), and Toyota only sold 351 cars, the debut of Japan's first supercar was a cultural triumph.

The Toyota 2000GT changed the image of Japan's automotive industry on the grandest possible stage and still claims fans in high places to this day — it's Daniel Craig's favorite Bond car.

Roger Moore is the only Bond who never drove an Aston Martin. The brand's early absence was strategic, one more way to separate his performance from Connery's. Even after he found his footing, the Moore era never settled on a trademark carmaker. The closest candidate, with two appearances across seven films, is the Lotus. The manufacturer's debut inspired more toys than this modest victory lap, and justly so, but it's a testament to the Lotus Esprit Turbo that it barely needed gadgets — or much screen time — to leave a mark.

"For Your Eyes Only" was a grounded course correction after the comparatively gonzo "Moonraker," in which the closest thing to a Bond car was a hover-gondola. Lotus, who supplied the last genuine Bond car in "The Spy Who Loved Me," donated two Turbos to the cause. As in the earlier film, the Lotus was supposed to be stark white for the duration, but the snowy environs of Cortina d'Ampezzo, Italy, forced a repaint to increase its contrast. The compromise paid off — the burning copper look presaged a decade of candy-colored sports cars that only wished Bond would take them on a ski trip.

It's the anti-Bond car. No buttons on the dash. No champagne in the back. Slow enough to insult — "I'm afraid we're being out-horsepowered" — and plain enough to punish; it limps away looking like a crushed soda can. Famed stunt coordinator Rémy Julienne had to upgrade the engine just to make the 2CV look credibly competitive with the pursuing Peugeots. 

And yet, it's all charm. The iconic profile seems tailor made for roly-poly accidents. Capsizing isn't a matter of if, but when and how ridiculous. Like the previously ranked Renault and a groundbreaking jump infamously scored by slide whistle, the Citroen belongs to a proud Moore tradition of automotive slapstick. Though the stunts are less spectacular and the destruction less silly, the car is the best ambassador of that spirit. Moore agreed — it was his favorite Bond car.

Once "GoldenEye" reintroduced James Bond to a post-Cold War world, the producers set about perfecting the post-Cold War assembly line. Product placement had been a necessary ingredient in the franchise ever since Bond proudly flew Pan Am in "Dr. No," but with globe-trotting spectacle costing more every year, endorsements became the horse that pulled the cart. With just eight brand partnerships, "Tomorrow Never Dies" recouped its $110 million budget.

Most visible among them, after a glorified cameo in "GoldenEye," was BMW. At first glance, the 750iL is a downgrade from the sporty Z3. It's a sensible, if pricey, four-door saloon car in accountant gray. Q (Desmond Llewelyn) hides it in plain sight as an AVIS rental and the disguise is seamless. But in motion, with the usual refinements, the 750iL makes off with the entire movie.

The parking garage chase is a four-minute masterclass in Bond action. Every toy in the box gets a turn — the cellphone doubles as a high-def Game Boy, the caltrops scatter like overgrown jacks — and Pierce Brosnan relishes all of them. Nameless henchmen, ignorant to the trickster god on whom they're wasting bullets, do more choreographed damage to themselves than their target. It only ends with a responsibly destructive punchline. Bond-as-gearhead in perfect miniature.

After Lazenby rejected a multi-film contract and a few American actors declined on the grounds of being American, the head of United Artists issued a Hail Mary decree: woo Connery at any cost. To many moviegoers, to the actor's frustration, he simply was James Bond. 

On "Diamonds Are Forever," to mark 007's first extended stay in the States, that philosophy extended to the car — the Ford Mustang simply was America. The lipstick-red Mach 1 didn't need any aftermarket firepower — Tiffany Case (Jill St. John) rents it as-is from McCarran Airport. Against the scorched Nevada desert, it's a parody, a V8 pony set loose in a weird western. Under the constellation lights of Las Vegas, it's a dream.

Neon grazes it like tracer fire. The front-heavy frame gives the impression of perpetual pounce. The sheer, squealing speed makes everything else on Fremont Street look like a Model T. Can a real Mach 1 tip from two wheels to the other in the middle of a four-foot-wide alleyway? Of course not, but it's easy to believe it could land gently on the Vegas strip and peel out like nothing ever happened.

The Lotus Esprit S1 was destined for 007, only catching the right eyes with a flashy gamble. Upon receiving clandestine word that the Bond producers needed a car that could pass for a submarine, Lotus PR chief Don McLauchlan drove straight to Pinewood Studios. Not for a meeting — the tip-off was pure espionage — but a show. He parked a prototype Esprit right next to the production offices and waited. All it took was one day of exposure to get the call. 

The new Bond had found his new car and it was everything an Aston Martin wasn't. Angular instead of curvaceous. Sharp instead of smooth. Hip instead of classic. The Esprit S1 looked like it had driven straight out of the Atari age and cracked the sound barrier on the way. And that's on dry land.

Nicknamed "Wet Nellie" in honor of pocket copter "Little Nellie" from "You Only Live Twice," the Esprit took to the water like, well, a car to water. A fully operational submarine version was built within a Lotus frame. It wasn't even airtight – the pilot wore scuba gear and escaping oxygen was faked with Alka-Seltzer. On film, of course, the transition is seamless and the effect is legendary. There hasn't been a better mix of suave and superpowered since, on wheels or otherwise.