Firstly, let's define terms.
We all know what a classic car is - that is, it's safe to assume that all those driven to view this particular scribble do. For those who just popped by hoping for an exposition on Joyce Grenfell, a classic can be broadly defined as a car - usually no-longer in production - for which there is a sizeable body of affection. That could be just about any car in any film over, say, about twenty years old - but to this I add another definition for the purposes of this piece: in order for it to be considered, it has to have been a classic at the time the film was released. This cuts the field down considerably, for while, say, the Ford Mustang and Dodge Charger might safely be considered classics today, when Bullitt was released, they were still both production models, even if they were considered sexy and desirable by those who bought them. Also, if we widen the concept of "movie" to include television programmes, whilst only concentrating on cars which had a fairly central role rather than being automotive extras, then we have set out our stall for consideration.
In the Bergerac series, starring John Nettles, the Jersey-based detective had as his transport a rather lovely 1948 Triumph Roadster. With its maroon paintwork glinting in the Jersey sun, it looked a picture of sheer bliss, in contrast to the work with which the sleuth had to deal. It's difficult, too, to reconcile the sporty, rather louche bodywork with the austere times of post-war Britain, whose manufacturers famously had to "export or die" in order to service a debt accrued to the United States for services rendered during the conflict. It was a two-seater open sports car, essentially, with two occasional "dickey" seats set between the rear wheel arches. With its vaguely pre-war looks and classic British styling, it was in many ways the perfect car for the maverick Jim Bergerac, and a perfect complement for Nettles.
In various Bond films, the Aston Martin DB5 has been wheeled out as if to remind people of the good old days of Goldfinger and that Scottish chappie. Of course, when Goldfinger came out, the DB4 had not been long in production (indeed, the principle car of that film was the DB5 prototype) But later films - Goldeneye and the latest film, Casino Royale - have brought out its siblings as a hook. There are some who would argue that it's more fromage than homage, but it is nevertheless good to see proper Astons on display, even if - as in the case of Casino Royale - the car was won from one of Le Chifre's flunkies, and its main occupation in the film is having a quick turn around the hotel car-park. Of course, Goldeneye had Pierce Brosnan doing a quick turn against some Ferrari or other in the hills above the French Riviera, flattening cyclists, bothering tractors and, at one point, getting a lady in a spin. We are told that BMT 215A (the number-plate used in the film) is a sister-car of the original Bond reconnoissance wagon, and that it is now Bond's personal car - which seems to fit; even if the British Army do use Bedford lorries from the '50s as Green Goddess fire-engines and still tool around in Bedford TK trucks that stopped production about 20 years ago, they are hardly likely to send out one of their uber-operatives out in something which not only left the factory 40 years previously but also would have a hard time blending into anything but an orgy of exotica.
Last but possibly not least (even if it wasn't exactly the "star" - was the Aston Martin DB4 Convertible 163 ELT as driven by Michael Caine in the original and best version of "The Italian Job". It's included here because, even though the DB4 had only been out of production a matter of five years when the film was released in 1968, it would have been an instant classic. Bear in mind that in those days, Aston Martin was being run at a loss, almost as a hobby of David Brown - and that as such, the cars would have been more cherished than those of today's more efficient Ulrich Bez outfit. Nevertheless, the car had a short role in the film because, once the "Self Preservation Society" had reached Italy, the Mafia, tooled up with earthmoving equipment, ostensibly pushed it down the side of a mountain. Now, back in those days production companies weren't particularly cautious with their mechanical co-stars, and some seem to think it was the Aston itself that got trashed. But many are of the opinion that the motorised victim was actually an Alfa Romeo dressed up to look like it - which is certainly reassuring but, whither 163 ELT now?
There are many instances of classics on film - but not as many as there are new cars. The reason for this is simple; new cars are usually there as a result of product placement deals, which in turn exist as advertising for new cars. Unless the cars are so recognisable that one can achieve a general brand endorsement, there's no mileage in the manufacturer sponsoring the placement of a classic car. Then again, as in the case of James Bond, whose creator had him driving Bentleys before putting him in an Aston Martin, it's a case of being true to the original source material - but then as the Aston DB5 proved to be the touch-paper that set light to the whole series, they would have been foolish not to run with it.