Avis Metacritic

George MacDonald Fraser, Richard Maibaum and Michael G. Wilson are responsible for the story and screenplay, which was directed by John Glen, who does much better than he did with "For Your Eyes Only." However, the material is markedly better, and the budget seems noticeably larger. Peter Lamont's production design is both extravagant and funny.

One of the snazziest, wittiest productions in the history of the serial.

This finds Bond on better form than he's been for some time. The action sequences are tighter, the visual gags more inventive, and if the plot is no great shakes, the whole thing is served up with a decent approximation to the old panache.

Film’s high points are the spectaccular aerial stuntwork marking both the pre-credits teaser and extremely dangerous-looking climax.

One for the die hards. The saving grace here is a knowing sense of humour so lacking in its predecessor, For Your Eyes Only.

There's a fine line between wit and absurdity, and this particular movie too often falls on the wrong side.

Glen's willingness to give the action sequences a certain weight and seriousness produces some genuinely exciting moments, yet his work is everywhere undermined by the flatness of the characterizations and the uncertain architecture of the plot. Still, Maud Adams makes a nice impression and Roger Moore has shed some of his smarminess.

Directed by John Glen, who keeps the excitement level high for an hour or so, then lets the show slip into the doldrums.

OCTOPUSSY features the usual array of fine stunt work and special effects, and Adams' appearance marks the first time that a Bond woman was allowed an encore performance, but little is added that departs from the Bond formula.

When he had started playing this game of Save the Planet—when he was roguish Sean Connery and the world was so much younger—Bond had been a kind of role model for people of a certain class and ambition. Savoir-faire meant the aristocracy of style: which wine to decant, which brand of cigarette to smoke, which automatic weapon to carry under the armpit. Now that he was Roger Moore, 20 years later, Bond had degenerated into a male model, and something of a genial anachronism.