On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969)

  Bond is back, except now he's George Lazenby instead of Sean Connery.  This is not a good trade.  It's especially worse since this is one of the best scripts I've seen from the Bond movies so far.  There was a lot of room here for genuine pathos but it's mostly squandered by Lazenby.

James Bond is driving around when he sees a woman trying to drown herself in the ocean.  Not wanting the world to be bereft of hot women, he jumps in and saves her.  For this he is attacked by random dudes and the girl runs off.  He sees her again at a casino and is again set upon by these henchmen.  They take him down to the basement and he meets with mob boss Draco (Gabriele Ferzetti) who explains that the hot chick is his daughter Tracy (Diana Rigg) who has been super-depressed.  Draco wants Bond to woo Tracy out of her funk and give her something else to focus on.  He offers Bond a million dollars but Bond wants information.  Specifically, the location of Ernst Stavro Blofeld (Telly Savalas), the head of SPECTRE.  Tracy insists on not being used as a prize and forces her daddy to just give Bond the information without any strings.  Blofeld is holed up in the Swiss Alps at a super-private allergy research center.  Bond starts dating Tracy anyway, because why not?  He also travels to Switzerland under the ruse of validating Blofeld's hereditary title.  He finds the allergy center populated exclusively by hot women from around the globe.  Once again, his wandering dick gets him into trouble and his cover is blown.  From that point, it's pretty much non-stop action.

This is where it gets spoilery so be ye forewarned.

Bond marries Tracy at the end of the movie, but just as they are driving away, Blofeld and his sidekick Irma Bunt (Ilsa Steppat) fire on the car.  Bond is fine but Tracy dies.  Out of all the previous Bond films, this is the most punch that's been produced from the death of a female character, because it feels tragic and random and thus more like real life.  It speaks to a deep fear in all of us that happiness is fleeting and death is always waiting just around the corner.