It was my first kiss. Minutes into The Spy Who Loved Me, Roger Moore grabs the girl and engages in one incredible liplock. Life would never be quite the same for this worldly-unwise seven-year-old Indian boy watching it on video. It was not the guns, or the gadgets, or even the girls that remained with me as my first impression of a James Bond film. It was the kiss. With each passing Hollywood flick, I learnt more about kisses, but no one did it like Roger Moore. No one.
James Bond has never been about the books. The books did play their part and Ian Fleming is definitely the creator, but James Bond attained phenomenal status with movies. Without the films, James Bond would have been another of those print heroes who just existed. Without movies James Bond would have yielded maybe 1,000 results for a Google search, instead of the 35,800,000 that you get today. So where did the script change?
When British Naval Intelligence Commander Ian Fleming decided he knew enough about spies and espionage, agents and double agents, cars and girls to write a book, he chose the very bland name of ‘James Bond’ (after an American ornithologist) for his hero, and Casino Royale was on its way. A few books later Fleming’s family fortune hadn’t increased much, nor was the popularity of James Bond giving anyone sleepless nights.
Then John F Kennedy came into the picture. The charismatic President declared that one of his favourite books was From Russia With Love and a JFK-besotted country followed suit. James Bond had crossed the Atlantic and there was no looking back. Kennedy may or may not have been speaking the truth, but at the height of the Cold War he certainly picked the right title to bandy around.
There had been a television production of Casino Royale, but now Hollywood stepped in in a big way. And that propelled 007 into a different league. Producer Albert R Broccoli was hunting for actors when a brash young Scottish bodybuilder stormed out of his office refusing to audition. Broccoli made one of those decisions that slightly changed the course of history and Sean Connery thundered down on an unsuspecting public as James Bond in Dr. No. The ultra-masculine Connery was followed by Roger Moore, who perfected the suave and sophisticated look. In between there was a disaster called George Lazenby who thankfully lasted only one movie. Timothy Dalton came and went. The dying franchise was given a boost by Pierce Brosnan, who successfully mixed Connery’s attitude and Moore’s flair with his own incredibly good looks. Now Brosnan is told to step aside and along comes Craig, Daniel Craig.
Craig got a raw deal from day one. He was the object of every Bondmaniac’s hatred (One even started a website called www.craignotbond.com). But then that is the legacy of Sean Connery. Every Bond actor has to match up to impossible standards. And Craig has it doubly hard because he is rebooting the series. In Munich he showed us he could act. But can he be James Bond?
Ian Flemming’s books were always accused of sexism and the movies didn’t fair much better. But as the author himself said “I do not write for the head or the heart. The target of my books is somewhere between the solar plexus and the upper thigh.” James Bond was a creation of the Cold War and the author’s own jet-setting life. Isn’t he out of place now? The makers want us to believe not.
While Bond-readers have dwindled, Bond-watchers are still around. Everyone who has seen a James Bond movie is not a Bondmaniac, but he would have something to say about it. My favourite Bond fantasy is to have Sean Connery as the villain. However, the makers may not want it. It is not easy to stand up to Sir Sean’s charisma and the franchise may just kill itself.
But isn’t that the best thing that could happen? James Bond has gone on for too long. The son of the Cold War should have died with the Cold War. The James Bond franchise today resembles a patient in the ICU with a hundred instruments desperately trying to keep him alive. The gadgets have gotten sillier, the plots (never a Bond strong point) have gotten ludicrous and even the most ardent voyeur would have tired of the guns, girls and cars. Should an entire movie be made just so we hear “the name is Bond, James Bond”?
Like the Charlie Chaplin ‘Tramp’ comedies, like the Andy Hardy musicals, like the Johnny Weizmuller Tarzan flicks, let James Bond remain the product of an era. Let us move on. But Hollywood wouldn’t be Hollywood if it listened to us. So, Casino Royale hits the screens today. Let us watch it and decide if Daniel Craig is worthy of all the brickbats he has been receiving or whether he will surprise us. Either way, one thing is for sure. Shaken or stirred, the Bond cocktail is not about to get empty.
James Bond has never been about the books. The books did play their part and Ian Fleming is definitely the creator, but James Bond attained phenomenal status with movies. Without the films, James Bond would have been another of those print heroes who just existed. Without movies James Bond would have yielded maybe 1,000 results for a Google search, instead of the 35,800,000 that you get today. So where did the script change?
When British Naval Intelligence Commander Ian Fleming decided he knew enough about spies and espionage, agents and double agents, cars and girls to write a book, he chose the very bland name of ‘James Bond’ (after an American ornithologist) for his hero, and Casino Royale was on its way. A few books later Fleming’s family fortune hadn’t increased much, nor was the popularity of James Bond giving anyone sleepless nights.
Then John F Kennedy came into the picture. The charismatic President declared that one of his favourite books was From Russia With Love and a JFK-besotted country followed suit. James Bond had crossed the Atlantic and there was no looking back. Kennedy may or may not have been speaking the truth, but at the height of the Cold War he certainly picked the right title to bandy around.
There had been a television production of Casino Royale, but now Hollywood stepped in in a big way. And that propelled 007 into a different league. Producer Albert R Broccoli was hunting for actors when a brash young Scottish bodybuilder stormed out of his office refusing to audition. Broccoli made one of those decisions that slightly changed the course of history and Sean Connery thundered down on an unsuspecting public as James Bond in Dr. No. The ultra-masculine Connery was followed by Roger Moore, who perfected the suave and sophisticated look. In between there was a disaster called George Lazenby who thankfully lasted only one movie. Timothy Dalton came and went. The dying franchise was given a boost by Pierce Brosnan, who successfully mixed Connery’s attitude and Moore’s flair with his own incredibly good looks. Now Brosnan is told to step aside and along comes Craig, Daniel Craig.
Craig got a raw deal from day one. He was the object of every Bondmaniac’s hatred (One even started a website called www.craignotbond.com). But then that is the legacy of Sean Connery. Every Bond actor has to match up to impossible standards. And Craig has it doubly hard because he is rebooting the series. In Munich he showed us he could act. But can he be James Bond?
Ian Flemming’s books were always accused of sexism and the movies didn’t fair much better. But as the author himself said “I do not write for the head or the heart. The target of my books is somewhere between the solar plexus and the upper thigh.” James Bond was a creation of the Cold War and the author’s own jet-setting life. Isn’t he out of place now? The makers want us to believe not.
While Bond-readers have dwindled, Bond-watchers are still around. Everyone who has seen a James Bond movie is not a Bondmaniac, but he would have something to say about it. My favourite Bond fantasy is to have Sean Connery as the villain. However, the makers may not want it. It is not easy to stand up to Sir Sean’s charisma and the franchise may just kill itself.
But isn’t that the best thing that could happen? James Bond has gone on for too long. The son of the Cold War should have died with the Cold War. The James Bond franchise today resembles a patient in the ICU with a hundred instruments desperately trying to keep him alive. The gadgets have gotten sillier, the plots (never a Bond strong point) have gotten ludicrous and even the most ardent voyeur would have tired of the guns, girls and cars. Should an entire movie be made just so we hear “the name is Bond, James Bond”?
Like the Charlie Chaplin ‘Tramp’ comedies, like the Andy Hardy musicals, like the Johnny Weizmuller Tarzan flicks, let James Bond remain the product of an era. Let us move on. But Hollywood wouldn’t be Hollywood if it listened to us. So, Casino Royale hits the screens today. Let us watch it and decide if Daniel Craig is worthy of all the brickbats he has been receiving or whether he will surprise us. Either way, one thing is for sure. Shaken or stirred, the Bond cocktail is not about to get empty.
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