/ 6 August 1999

I spy, the new 007

Rumours that Pierce Brosnan is set to order his last martini give us all a chance to play one of our favourite games – who will be the next James Bond? Andrew Collins looks at the contenders and sorts out the rough from the smooth

Reports of James Bond’s demise are always greatly exaggerated. He’s been on the verge of extinction for well over 30 years, but we’ve come to rely on the fact that 007 doesn’t die, he just “regenerates”, like a libidinous Doctor Who. “Do you expect me to talk?” he famously asked Goldfinger, while strapped to a table, legs apart, with a laser beam fast approaching the contents of his diplomatic bag. “No, Mr Bond,” replied the rotund villain. “I expect you to die!”

Dream on. Mr Bond didn’t die then, and he didn’t die the next time an eastern European megalomaniac had him by the short and curlies. Rest assured, he isn’t going to die now either, despite whispered reports that the actor who currently plays him, Pierce Brosnan, is planning to “hang up his Walther PPK” before the next general election.

Although Brosnan’s people have been quick to deny it, the bush fire of rumour is already spreading about the next-but-one Bond movie being the plucky Irishman’s last in the role. This Christmas, he will appear in The World Is Not Enough and he’s signed on for the next one, which will be made in 2001.

But after that? It doesn’t take a tip-off from one of the mysterious “showbusiness friends” cited in the current tittle-tattle to second-guess that Brosnan might jack it in after four Bond movies (his first was GoldenEye in 1995, then Tomorrow Never Dies in 1997). He turns 50 in 2001, a self- conscious turning point for any actor, although age was never an issue for Sean Connery, the so-called “breakaway Bond” who, at the age of 53, reprised the 007 role for 1983’s Never Say Never Again, or Roger Moore, who was 55 when he made his swansong A View to a Kill (“He looks a bit old,” noted Variety).

One reason Brosnan’s prospective retirement from the civil service is news at all is because he is widely accepted as “the best Bond since Connery”. Admittedly, after the unspectacular Timothy Dalton in The Living Daylights (1987) and Licence to Kill (1989), there was everything to play for, but few would deny that the boy from County Meath brought a much-needed sizzle back to what had become a rather lukewarm franchise.

Box-office returns leapt past the $300- million mark for the first time with GoldenEye, more than doubling the take for The Living Daylights. Brosnan can proudly claim much of the credit for this renaissance, although dumping any late- Eighties concessions to political correctness helped – “You can’t have the women buttoned down too much,” commented the star in 1995.

The other reason you’ll read a lot about Brosnan’s departure is because naming the next James Bond is always such good sport. Last time we were permitted to play the game, Hugh Grant, Ralph Fiennes and Mel Gibson were among the favourites. The time before that, Sam Neill was said to be a front-runner, with James Brolin an outside bet, having tested for Octopussy when Roger Moore had threatened to pull out. And back in 1971, a 25-year-old hopeful called Timothy Dalton was eventually passed over as “too young”. He must’ve thought you only audition twice.

“Serious actors of the world wouldn’t touch the part with a 10-foot pole,” says David Morefield of the Ian Fleming Foundation’s webzine Mr Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. “And we wouldn’t want them to.”

Hardcore Bond fans find it pathologically impossible to criticise any who fill 007’s shoes. They admire Roger Moore’s lightness of touch; they gloss over the unsuitability of George Lazenby because On Her Majesty’s Secret Service was one of Fleming’s best stories; they even give Dalton credit for the leather-armchair dignity he brought to the part despite being such a public second- choice. (Brosnan was picked for the role back in 1986, but couldn’t extricate himself from NBC’s Remington Steele – he’d just married Stephanie Zimbalist in the series, and the network wanted to squeeze three specials out of the pair).

But even a true loyalist would swallow hard at the names of some of the actors who have been linked with the Bond part down the years. When casting for the original Bond film, Dr No, producer Albert “Cubby” Broccoli was gung-ho for Cary Grant. Already in his late 50s, Grant declined, not wishing to be tied to a three-picture deal. The same fear of commitment put off David Niven, a friend of Ian Fleming (though he ended up playing a retired Sir James Bond in the awful 1967 spoof Casino Royale).

Stewart Granger was also considered, as were TV stars Patrick McGoohan and, yes, Roger Moore. So perhaps we should be grateful for the way the Edinburgh truck driver’s son Sean Connery moved when he first met Broccoli and co-producer Harry Saltzman.

They were impressed with the former body- builder’s “cat-like grace”, according to Adrian Turner’s recent Bloomsbury Guide to Goldfinger. “Afterwards, when the producers held meetings with financiers from United Artists, they would summon Connery to their office and ask him to turn around and pace the room – just like a model, an actress auditioning, or a piece of meat.”

Ian Fleming called Connery an “overgrown stuntman”, but the cinema-going public took to him instantly. Connery threw in the towel after five films, aptly enough while making You Only Live Twice, the book which Fleming had intended to be 007’s last (it ends with an obituary from the Times, in which Bond is described as “missing, believed killed, while on an official mission to Japan”).

Both Fleming and Connery were tempted to reconsider: the author cranked out two more books (despite warning his publishers that he had “run out of puff and zest”), and the actor came back for Diamonds Are Forever.

Because Connery had left Broccoli and Saltzman in the lurch at a time when their new franchise was really cooking, they seemed to lose all perspective, and cast George Lazenby, an Australian model with no acting experience.

Lazenby rather coarsely told Life magazine that he was looking forward to “the bread and the birds”, and ruined the premiere of On Her Majesty’s Secret Service by turning up with un-Bond-like beard and long hair. He had to go.

American actor John Gavin, best known for Psycho, was duly signed to play Bond, but stepped aside when a $1,25 million package had changed Connery’s mind. For 1973’s Live and Let Die, Burt Reynolds entered the frame. (“A little short,” commented director Guy Hamilton, “but he moved like a dream.”) Michael Billington, of television’s UFO fame, was also tested, as was Julian Glover, who later turned up as the baddie in For Your Eyes Only (and, ironically, shot Sean Connery in Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade).

It is worth mentioning Jason Connery, son of Sean and the star of ITV’s Robin of Sherwood, whose name habitually comes up when the 007 job is going begging. He usually says he could never better his dad. Sweet. And he’s so right.

So if it’s not going to be Jason for 2002, then who? Ewan McGregor will be 31 by then – close to Bond’s age in the books – and with the Scots heritage that served Connery so well, he has to be any producer’s first choice.

Unless, of course, The Phantom Menace renders him too famous – Bond maketh the star and not vice versa. McGregor’s co-star from Trainspotting, Jonny Lee Miller, does an impeccable Connery impression.

Leonardo DiCaprio would, of course, be dreadful in the role, but we have to go through the motions (and he does satisfy the “piece of meat” test). A far more interesting choice would be Ben Chaplin: English, good- looking and superb in an action role in The Thin Red Line. Colin Firth has what Jane Austen described as “a noble mien” – but slobbing it in Fever Pitch may have dashed his hopes of promotion.

Since TV has proven such a fertile breeding ground for Bonds, what about Ross Kemp, aka EastEnders’s Grant Mitchell, soon to wave goodbye to Albert Square and keen to reshape his bouncer’s image? Ardal O’Hanlan, equally set on reinvention, might duplicate Brosnan’s emerald charm (“Just keeping the British end up, Ted!”). And if Alan Davies would be willing to rethink the King-Charles-spaniel hair, he’d bring a Roger Moore-style raised- eyebrow to the job of saving the planet. Vinnie Jones? By 2002, he’ll be so famous actors will be queuing up to play him.

Hugh Grant is too well established this time around, but the man who stole Notting Hill from under his nose, Rhys Ifans, would make a magnificent Welsh superspy (remember Timothy Dalton’s from Colwyn Bay). It depends how far off-piste the Bond franchise wishes to go. Will Smith can handle gun-totin’ action, wise-ass humour and bedroom duty, plus he’ll sing the theme tune.

Mind you, dear old Ian Fleming would spin in his colonial grave.

Maybe after 40 years, it really is time for a change. M is already a woman (Judi Dench), so why not her top double-O agent? You must admit, Gwyneth Paltrow has the English public school accent down to a T.

“Do you expect me to talk?”

“No, Ms Bond, I expect you to cry!”