Bond Identity

IT IS THAT time again. James Bond, the longest-running and perhaps greatest franchise in film history, is set for another reboot. One of the more celebrated Bond directors, Sam Mendes, is not going to be at the helm again. Also, arguably the best Bond incarnation may be turning in his licence to kill. Daniel Craig is said to have rejected a £68 million offer to return for two more Bond films, sending bookmakers, hype-makers, 007 enthusiasts and several British actors of a certain profile into a tizzy.

Already, there are many angling for the role. Tom Hiddleston, who in the British spy-thriller mini-series The Night Manager (was it a Bond audition for him?) told a barman, “Excuse me, sir, could I have a vodka martini, please?” Idris Elba has been dubbed ‘The People’s Bond’ and as an African-Briton, casting him would make history. Meanwhile, Gillian Anderson and Game of Thrones’ mother of dragons Emilia Clarke have pitched themselves as Jane Bond.

James Bond first appeared on the big screen more than 50 years ago with Dr No. It was a time when the idea of a film franchise was unknown but there were reasons why it became one. To appreciate the full impact of Ian Fleming’s Bond on Hollywood and popular culture, one simply has to remember what the film landscape was like before he arrived. The West was obsessed with the Cold War. The commercial jet age was yet to take off and exotic locations were just pictures in a travel guide. Catchphrases—nothing as catchy as ‘shaken, not stirred’ or ‘The name is Bond, James Bond’—were uncommon. Sex in cinema was muted. There was nothing as sexy as a Bond girl— certainly no Ursula Andress emerging from the sea or Shirley Eaton in gold. There were no theme songs, outlandish gadgets or fancy Aston Martins. Bond, over two dozen films, didn’t just serve Her Majesty, he showed global audiences how exhilarating life could be.

It is said that when Dr No was adapted for the big screen, Ian Fleming was well-aware of the movie potential of his paperback creation. In 1961, the film producer Albert Broccoli, whose daughter Barbara now runs the Bond franchise, had parted ways with his business partner Irving Allen who according to a Vanity Fair piece had once told Fleming, “In my opinion, these books are not even good enough for television.” Broccoli teamed up with another producer, Harry Saltzman, to acquire the film rights of Fleming’s books. Scottish actor Sean Connery, a truck-driver’s son who had once worked as a milkman and fancied himself as a bodybuilder, was selected as a consensus candidate by the producers and the studio.

Bond hasn’t just impacted our imagination, he has also been impacted by it. His mission has moved from anti-Soviet espionage to fighting greedy global oligarchs. The standard Bond tropes—chauvinism, fancy gadgets—have been shelved. In Skyfall, the character Q even asks Bond. “Were you expecting an exploding pen? We don’t really go in for that sort of thing anymore.” Much else has changed too.

Bond’s shadow has never been more severe than on those who have enacted him. Daniel Craig recently said he’d rather slash his wrists than reprise the role again. Fifty years ago, during the production of Goldfinger, Connery told Life magazine, “Remove the exotic touches and what have you got? A dull, prosaic English policeman.”

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