Roger Moore's fourth and biggest outing as Bond has split the fan community ever since its release. Often ranked lowly amongst most fans, the film does attract some die-hard supporters to counter-balance the retrospective criticism from those who forget Moonraker pulled in record-breaking box-office numbers. Perhaps best described as a Bond smorgasbord - something for everyone but most of it in bad taste - the film did enjoy some popular press attention upon release.

MI6 looks back at an original review from Time Magazine released on 2nd July 1979, the week of Moonraker's US release:

Producer Albert R. Broccoli, the major-domo of the James Bond movies, is the proverbial Jewish mother of cinema: he is not about to let anyone go away hungry. In Moonraker, the eleventh 007 opus, Broccoli serves the audience a space-shuttle hijacking, a jumbo-jet explosion and a protracted wrestling match between two men who are falling from the sky without parachutes. All this happens before the opening credits. From there, it's on to gondola chases in Venice, funicular crashes in Rio and laser-gun shootouts and lovemaking in deep space.

With their rigid formulas and well-worn gags, these films have transcended fashion. Styles in Pop culture, sexual politics and international espionage have changed drastically since Ian Fleming invented his superhero, but the immaculately tailored, fun-loving British agent remains a jolly spokesman for the simple virtues of Western civilization. Not even Margaret Thatcher would dare consider slowing him down.

For Moonraker, Screenwriter Christopher Wood has had to do little more than dream up new settings, a new heroine and a new villain with a novel dooms day plot. Everything else takes care of itself. This time around, the bad guy (Michael Lonsdale) is an aerospace conglomerateur who plans to wipe out the world's population with deadly Brazilian orchids before hatching a master race from an interstellar sanctuary. To stop him, Bond (the ever smooth Roger Moore) must team up with Holly Goodhead (Lois Chiles), a CIA agent who picked up her astronaut's training at NASA and her judo expertise at Vassar. Such talents come in handy as the couple confront traditional nemeses: an Oriental thug (Toshiro Suga), attack dogs, and Jaws (Richard Kiel), the 7-ft. 2-in., steel-toothed goon introduced in The Spy Who Loved Me (1977) .

Rather than stage variations on Jaws' old fiendish gags, Wood has given the character some surprising twists, including a love interest. As always, there is no explicit gore or sex to jolt the audience back to reality.

If Moonraker is not quite as satisfying as Spy, the best of the post-Sean Connery Bonds, the difference is in the casting. Lonsdale is a bit too tame; he seems to be doing a John Ehrlichman imitation. Chiles is all too sexless.

The title song, the important kickoff for Bond movies, is no match for Nobody Does It Better, the Carly Simon dazzler of Spy.

Still, one does not tend to notice these failings as Moonraker unfolds. Broccoli just keeps piling on the goodies: lush Ken Adam sets, gadgetry and gams galore, super stunts and effects. It may be another two-year wait for the next Bond film, so you may as well just stuff yourself silly now.