Erhalten Sie Zugang zu diesem und mehr als 300000 Büchern ab EUR 5,99 monatlich.
'There are so many insights – even hardcore Bond fans will be surprised. Indispensable.' – David Lowbridge-Ellis MBE Only six men can lay claim to wearing the famous Savile Row tuxedo of James Bond; more people have stepped on the Moon. Yet, hundreds more came within an inch of winning the coveted 007 role – the pinnacle for so many actors. For the first time, The Search for Bond tells the extraordinary story of how cinema's most famous secret agent was cast, featuring exclusive interviews with many of the actors who were at one time considered to play Bond, interviewed for the role, or went as far as to be screen tested. From Sir Ranulph Fiennes to Sam Neill, their memories and stories give a fascinating insiders' glimpse into the process of how the Bond producers, Broccoli and Saltzman, came up with the right man to play their famous spy.
Sie lesen das E-Book in den Legimi-Apps auf:
Seitenzahl: 399
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
Das E-Book (TTS) können Sie hören im Abo „Legimi Premium” in Legimi-Apps auf:
Cover illustrations from istockphoto.com
First published 2024
The History Press
97 St George’s Place, Cheltenham,
Gloucestershire, GL50 3QB
www.thehistorypress.co.uk
© Robert Sellers, 2024
The right of Robert Sellers to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the Publishers.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978 1 80399 659 2
eBook converted by Geethik Technologies
Typesetting and origination by The History Press
Printed and bound in Great Britain by TJ Books Limited, Padstow, Cornwall.
Preface
1 Before Connery
2 Connery
3 Replacing the Irreplaceable
4 Return of the King
5 The Saintly Bond
6 The Shakespearean Bond
7 Born to Be Bond
8 The Blonde Bond Bombshell
Notes
Bibliography
This book began life sometime around 2007 and a good portion of the interviews I conducted come from around that period. Sadly, many of the people I spoke with have since passed away.
While researching this book, I began to sound out potential publishers. Not for the first time, and surely not the last, my idea met with a wall of indifference. So much so that I abandoned the project, left it on a memory stick and proceeded to work on other things.
Imagine my surprise when many years later I was able to interest a publisher into releasing the book. I took out the old manuscript, dusted it down, carried out new interviews and new research, and here we are. My thanks therefore go to Mark Beynon of The History Press.
I’d also like to thank the following people who contributed to and agreed to be interviewed for this book, past and present.
Vic Armstrong (2011 interview), George Baker (2007 interview), Robert S. Baker (2006 interview), Caroline Besson, Michael Billington (2007 interview), Honor Blackman (1997 interview), Tony Bonner, Eric Braeden, Michael Craig (2007 interview), Neil Dickson, Sir Ranulph Fiennes (2007 interview), Cyril Frankel (2011 interview), Fabien Frankel, Maria Gavin, Lewis Gilbert (2006 interview), Marcus Gilbert (2007 interview), John Glen (2006 interview), Julian Glover (2007 interview), Roger Green (2007 interview), Mark Greenstreet, Guy Hamilton (2007 interview), Robin Hawdon (2021 interview), Bob Holness (2008 interview), Paul Hough, John James (2007 interview), Michael Jayston (2007 interview), Christopher LeClaire, Christopher Lee (2005 interview), Dyson Lovell (2007 interview), Glenn McCrory, Michael McStay (2007 interview), Tom Mankiewicz (2007 interview), Guy Masterson (2007 interview), Sir Roger Moore (2001 interview), Sam Neill (2007 interview), Simon Oates (2008 interview), Ian Ogilvy (2007 interview), Adrian Paul (2007 interview), Ronald Payne (2011 interview), David Robb (2008 interview), John Ronane (2008 interview), David Rossi, Philip Saville (2011 interview), Roger Barton Smith (2007 interview), Peter Snow (2007 interview), Ewan Stewart, Gary Stretch, Oliver Tobias (2008 interview), Rikki Lee Travolta (2007 interview), Giles Watling (2007 interview), Colin Wells.
The search for an actor to play James Bond did not start with the journey that ultimately led to the monumental casting of Sean Connery in 1962, but a full three years before, in 1959, when 007 looked like making his cinematic debut in a film directed by Alfred Hitchcock; though Ian Fleming had his fingers heavily crossed on that one. After years of hawking his books around film studios in England and Hollywood, with no takers, Fleming teamed up with a young maverick Irish filmmaker called Kevin McClory and together they formulated a plot line that saw Bond take on nuclear terrorism.
It was during Fleming’s meetings with Paul Dehn, an early candidate to write the screenplay, that the subject of who to cast as Bond first arose. In a letter dated 11 August 1959 to his friend Ivar Bryce, Fleming announced, ‘Both Dehn and I think that Richard Burton would be by far the best James Bond!’ It’s a fascinating suggestion, and undeniably the first recorded statement by Fleming about who should play his hero. Years later Fleming would champion David Niven as Bond, a very traditional English actor and a million miles away from the wild Celtic image and brooding manner of Burton. And what a Bond a pre-Cleopatra/pre-Elizabeth Taylor Burton would have been, before vats of vodka and a heady dose of disillusionment frayed his edges beyond repair.
According to Burton’s brother, Graham Jenkins, the Welsh actor was a fan of the Bond books, numbering them amongst his favourite pulp reading along with Agatha Christie. Guy Masterson, a theatrical producer and director, and Burton’s great-nephew, recalls that the acting legend once confided in him about his decision to turn the Bond role down:
At the time he was doing Camelot on stage and enjoying great stardom because of it. My uncle told me that Ian Fleming had approached him, asking him to play Bond. But back then Bond was a new concept – nobody had any idea it would be as big as it became. My uncle told me that he thought it was going to be just another movie.1
No matter how big Bond became, Burton never admitted to family or friends that he regretted missing out on the role. ‘Had Burton played Bond,’ says Masterson, ‘I think he would have been absolutely fantastic.’2
Burton’s rejection of Bond was probably just as well: the Welsh star was far too much of a free spirit to get tied down with a film series for any length of time. Ironically, in 1965, at the height of Bondmania, Burton scored one of his biggest successes with his Oscar-nominated role in The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, playing a cynical, worn-out MI6 agent who was the antithesis of 007. The potential casting of Burton as Bond also throws up a myriad of repercussions; cinema history might have been very different. Burton would almost certainly have missed his role as Marc Antony in 1963’s Cleopatra, during which he fell in love with Elizabeth Taylor. One of the great showbiz couples of all time would never have been. And, of course, Sean Connery would have lost his opportunity for international stardom.
The casting of Richard Burton was an inspired idea and showed far greater insight into what kind of actor any potential Bond film required to connect with world audiences than did a previous screen incarnation of the character. Back in 1954, Fleming sold the screen rights to his first novel Casino Royale for a paltry $1,000 to the American TV network CBS and it was broadcast as part of their Climax! anthology series that October. Due to budgetary restraints and a script that was being altered right up to showtime, much of the nuance and scope of Fleming’s novel was missing. Worse, the character of Bond was reduced to an American private detective rather than the suave gentleman spy readers knew. At one point in the proceedings, he is addressed as ‘Card Sense Jimmy Bond’.
Cast in the role of Bond was Barry Nelson, a popular enough TV and screen star. He had recently finished starring as a globetrotting businessman involved in international intrigue in The Hunter, a half-hour series that ran on CBS from 1952–54, and was currently appearing in the CBS sitcom My Favorite Husband. He was whacked, and had taken a short holiday to Jamaica, telling his agent he did not want to be disturbed.
No sooner did he land than his agent called saying that CBS desperately wanted him for Casino Royale. Nelson scrambled to get an immediate flight back to America to attend rehearsals the next day. He later confessed that the only reason for taking the job was a chance to act opposite Peter Lorre, who was playing Le Chiffre. ‘I was really having my doubts, but when they told me Peter Lorre was the villain that was the clincher.’3
Arriving to play the role, Nelson had not the first clue what he was being asked to do. ‘At that time, no one had ever heard of James Bond. I was scratching my head wondering how to play it. I hadn’t read the book or anything like that because it wasn’t well known.’4 Far from carrying out even basic research, the most pressing prospect for Nelson was the fact that the 50-minute production was going out live. Where some people developed a nervous facial twitch, Nelson had a full body spasm. ‘It was sheer fear. Peter Lorre saw me shaking and said, “Straighten up, Barry, so I can kill you.”’5
Casino Royale made little impact on audiences or critics; Susan King of the Los Angeles Times called Nelson’s portrayal of 007 ‘sexless and glum’. Nelson was later to reveal that CBS had an option on further Bond stories but didn’t pick it up. What a relief, since a 007 TV series might have reduced the appetite for any potential studio to back a film franchise. It also meant no more Barry Nelson as James Bond; he went on with his career, largely appearing on Broadway along with a few film appearances in things like Airport (1970) and The Shining (1980), as the man who interviews Jack Nicholson’s Jack Torrance for the job of the off-season caretaker of the Overlook Hotel.
When the Bond films struck gold in the 1960s, Nelson never regretted what some people might have viewed as a lost opportunity. ‘I always thought Connery was the ideal Bond. What I did is just a curio.’6
Nelson wasn’t the only actor to play James Bond before Connery. There was a TV presenter who became a cult figure in the 1980s with the quiz show Blockbusters; his name was Holness, Bob Holness. Born in South Africa in 1928, Holness was six months old when his family came to live in England. In 1953, when he was 25, the whole family moved back to South Africa, and he began to find work in the theatre in Durban:
In 1955 I started a career in radio and was in a repertory company that did a multitude of different productions from soaps to the classics. And it was with the South African Broadcasting Corporation that I was offered the chance to play 007 in a live radio adaptation of Moonraker in 1958, I think.7
Like Barry Nelson before him, Holness hadn’t even heard of James Bond, let alone read a Fleming novel. Even so, the broadcast was a great success. ‘But when enquiries were made about the possibility of doing another adaptation we were told that there were plans to turn a novel into a film and they wanted to see how that went. The rest, as they say, is history.’8
As for playing Bond on the big screen: ‘it never even occurred to me,’ admitted Holness. ‘When my children were younger, I would take them to the cinema to see the latest Bond release, but we all agree that after Sean Connery it was never really the same. Having said that, I think Daniel Craig was extremely impressive, so maybe I’ve now changed my mind.’9
The failure of the CBS production of Casino Royale did not do much to endear the Bond novels to prospective film backers. However, in 1955, Hollywood actor John Payne purchased the film rights to Fleming’s third Bond novel, Moonraker, with the intention of starring as 007 himself. Born in 1912 in Virginia, Payne was a contract player with 20th Century Fox during the 1940s and early ’50s, starring in a string of forgettable musicals and film noir crime stories. His most notable appearances were in Miracle on 34th Street (1947) and controversial drama The Razor’s Edge (1946) in which he co-starred with Tyrone Power, an actor whose dark matinee idol looks he somewhat resembled.
By the time Moonraker was published in the early part of 1955, Payne was disheartened by most of the poorly conceived scripts he was getting and very much aware that his career needed a boost. Fleming’s novel offered him something better and very different. ‘It was an agent at the William Morris Agency in Beverly Hills who first alerted him to the thrillers of Ian Fleming,’ reveals Ronald Payne, the actor’s distant cousin:
John was very receptive and enthusiastic and immediately went about seeking the option rights to Moonraker with hopes of doing a series of films. Fleming’s hard living and dangerous super spy appealed to Payne, who wanted his film to be absolutely faithful to Fleming’s novel. Payne liked the speed of Fleming’s rollercoaster plot.10
For director, Payne sought out his friend Delbert Mann, then a hot property having just directed Ernest Borgnine’s Oscar-winning performance in the drama Marty. It was thanks to several conversations with Delbert Mann in the 1970s that Ronald Payne came to learn so much about his cousin’s Bond film plans. John Payne had already dissected the novel’s plot and characters and made copious notes on how James Bond was to be portrayed on the screen, which he shared with Mann. Impressed with the work Payne had done, the director only had one major concern. While he personally thought Payne was physically right for James Bond, he could not look past the fact that Bond was British. His suggestion was that Payne produce the film and they bring in David Niven as 007. This idea was endorsed by actor/director Dick Powell, who was also interested in the enterprise. Payne personally liked and admired Niven but saw the Moonraker project as vitally important in helping relaunch his by then flagging career. ‘He loved the book and saw himself as Bond,’ states Ronald Payne. ‘He would not budge on this.’11
If, then, Payne insisted on playing Bond, Mann suggested the character be changed to an American FBI agent or perhaps a former OSS (Office of Strategic Services) agent, and that the book’s British location be moved to either New York, Washington or San Francisco. Payne was vehemently against these ideas. ‘He wanted to remain completely faithful to Ian Fleming,’ Ronald Payne recalls Mann telling him:
And shoot the picture in Technicolor and CinemaScope in London with a fully British cast and crew. He placed all emphasis on his fidelity to Fleming, whom I don’t think he ever met. He was obsessed with the creation of a certain noir element in the writing of the script and the big slam bang conclusion when Bond saves London and the girl from total annihilation.12
Payne’s choice to write the script was Ben Hecht.
John Payne also had a clear mind when it came to casting. The Irish-born actress Maureen O’Hara, who made many films for John Ford and her friend John Wayne, including the classic The Quiet Man (1952), was at the top of his short list to portray Gala Brand. For baddie Hugo Drax, Payne looked no further than Basil Rathbone, with instructions for the former Sherlock Holmes actor to play the villain as ‘cunning, dangerous and quite mad’.13 In one newly devised scene, an obvious nod to Rathbone’s Robin Hood/swashbuckling days, Bond and Drax were to engage in an elaborate duel, ‘slicing at each other with fencing swords’, according to Mann.14 This would have predated Bond’s sword-fight with Gustav Graves in Die Another Day (2002) by almost forty years. As for the famous card game scene at the Blades Club, Payne told Mann that he thought it might be fun to get some of his Hollywood pals to play a few cameos. The camera would pan around the gaming table and the audience would spot several famous faces. Payne envisioned a ‘walk-on’ role for Tyrone Power, who was to accidentally bump into Bond at the club. Payne also wanted Peter Lorre to play a former Nazi psychiatrist and Drax henchman. After the card game, Lorre tails Bond’s ally and friend, to be played by Cesar Romero, and knifes him to death in a dark Mayfair alleyway.
As to how the film would look visually, Payne took inspiration in the bold, almost pulp magazine-like, covers of the British Pan paperbacks, as Mann recalled:
He wanted that heightened sense of death defying, last minute, live or die suspense. He loved the Bond covers created for the Pan editions and kept repeatedly showing them to me and asking if I could reproduce them in the framing of the film in terms of lighting and cutting. Seeing them only once, I knew exactly how he wanted his Bond film to look and be perceived.15
Mann recalled two set pieces that Payne was particularly excited about putting on the screen. One involved the lorry carrying rolls of heavy newsprint that are dropped in front of Bond’s Bentley and take him off the road; ‘white knuckle stuff,’ says Ronald Payne.16 Another was Bond’s dramatic rescue of Gala Brand from being roasted alive from the flames of the Moonraker rocket as it’s fired on London. ‘He wanted the audience to be practically screaming in their seats to get out of there before it was too late,’ Mann recalled to Ronald Payne. ‘And he wanted the audience to feel the heat of the exhausts and see the sweat on Bond’s face.’17
By this stage Mann believed that had the film been made it would have been a success:
It didn’t really matter to me, at this point, if John Payne’s James Bond was British or American. The story as he envisioned it was so gripping and exciting no one would have cared. John Payne’s James Bond would have been a hero like none other of that era. In many ways he was on the same track creatively later followed by Broccoli and Saltzman.18
And ahead of the curve, too, regarding Bond’s cinematic potential.
Keen on possibly making a series of 007 films, Payne ultimately dropped the Moonraker option, for which he paid $1,000 a month, once he learned that the rights to the other Bond books would not be available to him.
Where others had failed to get Bond off the ground, Irish filmmaker Kevin McClory was convinced he could make a go of it. Top of his list to direct was Alfred Hitchcock; Fleming being impressed by the master of suspense’s recent thriller North by Northwest (1959) starring Cary Grant. If Hitchcock were to countenance coming on board, it was made quite plain that the decision as to who played Bond would be taken by the director and no one else – and Hitchcock’s choice was James Stewart. Hitchcock was currently in search of a vehicle for Stewart, one of his favourite actors, whom he’d cast already in four of his movies, notably Rear Window (1954) and Vertigo (1958). How did Fleming react to Hitch’s suggestion of a man famous for playing cowboys being his suave secret agent? Surprisingly philosophically according to this letter, dated 7 October 1959, to his friend Ivar Bryce. ‘Of course James Stewart is the toppest of stars and personally I wouldn’t at all mind him as Bond if he can slightly anglicise his accent. If we got him and Hitchcock we really would be off to the races. Cross all your fingers.’ Perhaps Fleming was so desperate to see one of his novels made into a film that he was prepared to compromise totally. Bryce, far more sensibly, was heavily against the casting. ‘I shudder at lackadaisical Stewart portraying dynamic Bond,’ he immediately wrote back to Fleming.
Interestingly, at the same time, a 90-minute television adaptation of From Russia with Love was in development in America, with James Mason already cast as Bond. If that proved a hit, Mason would become the man most identified in the public’s mind as 007. ‘So, if the worst comes to the worst, we might have to settle for him,’ Fleming wrote Bryce on 11 August 1959, sounding not entirely won over by the idea. Mason was, after all, more famous as a silky villain (Captain Nemo in Disney’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954) for example) than a heroic leading male. Indeed, in 1979 he was first choice to play Hugo Drax in Moonraker, a role that ultimately went to Michael Lonsdale. In the end, though, the From Russia with Love TV drama never happened. But Fleming did later change his mind about James Mason, according to the author’s cousin Christopher Lee. ‘I know who Ian thought was the best person to play Bond – James Mason, who would have been marvellous. He had all the right qualities. I don’t think anyone has ever succeeded in putting Ian Fleming’s James Bond up on the screen. The closest in my opinion is Pierce Brosnan.’19
McClory, at this point, favoured Trevor Howard to play Bond in their proposed film and met the actor at least twice to discuss it, in July and October 1959. Fleming disagreed, saying that Howard, in his mid-forties, was too old and suggested instead Peter Finch. McClory had to tell Fleming that Finch was in fact only a couple of years younger than Howard. Fleming wrote back saying that he would be happier if the part could be given to a young unknown actor, with established stars playing the other roles.
As production loomed ever closer, Trevor Howard was still being talked about as a possible Bond. Then two new fascinating names entered the frame: Dirk Bogarde and Richard Harris. In 1959, Bogarde was the top box office draw in Britain, so not surprisingly was very much in demand. ‘Dirk Bogarde is probably committed for our dates of location,’ production manager Leigh Aman wrote to McClory that November. ‘He might, however, be free. His fee is £30,000.’ In the 1960s Bogarde was to appear in a couple of spy films designed to cash in on the success of the Sean Connery Bonds, Hot Enough for June (1964) and Modesty Blaise (1966). In 1975 he played a particularly cold and brutal intelligence agent alongside Timothy Dalton in the spy thriller Permission to Kill. As for Harris, then just embarking upon what was to become a highly successful film career, he was interviewed personally by McClory. One can only imagine what those two very different actors would have made of the Bond role.
Meanwhile, in New York, McClory had dinner with the Swedish boxer Ingemar Johansson, then the world heavyweight champion. ‘He is looking for an acting career,’ McClory wrote to Bryce. ‘And, my golly, he would make a wonderful James Bond. Unfortunately, I don’t think we can do anything about his Swedish accent – if only we could dub the voice.’20
Even Fleming’s agent, Lawrence Evans, got in on the act. But his suggestion was sheer lunacy. He advocated that a man be found whose real name was James Bond and he be groomed for the part. Then, so Evans’ logic went, wherever he went in the world he would be known and addressed as James Bond. ‘I think this is an impossible but amusing idea,’ said Fleming. ‘But I do think the idea of creating our own James Bond from an unknown and to sign him up for ten years and have a very valuable human property on our hands to act in Bond television series etc, is an excellent one.’21 Not long after Evans’ absurd suggestion, three letters applying for the role of James Bond arrived, sent by real James Bonds!
Incredibly, McClory’s London production office was overwhelmed by letters from ex-soldiers and out of work actors asking for an audition to prove that they were the only person in the world capable of playing Bond. Wives, too, sent letters describing the various attributes of their husbands and why they should be cast in the role. Best of all, McClory’s secretary was sent one such letter and contacted her boss about it saying, ‘A Mr. Arthur Tarry (accountant) telephoned. Will you be wanting him for James Bond?’22
Fleming too was pestered with potential Bond wannabes who sent their photographs to him. One in particular was interesting enough for him to pass it on to McClory, with a proviso. ‘His acting record seems good, but of course he may be only four feet six inches with a cockney accent and quite out of the question.’23
As pre-production continued, news about the proposed James Bond film began appearing in the showbiz and gossip pages of the tabloid press and for the first time speculation amongst the general public began about who should play the famous spy. People wrote to newspapers with their own candidates, names like Patrick McGoohan, Michael Craig, Richard Todd, Peter O’Toole and George Baker, plus Hollywood idols William Holden, James Garner and Montgomery Clift. Bizarrely even Donald Sinden and Peter Cushing were mentioned as possible 007s.
The Daily Express quickly got in on the act and encouraged readers to send in their choices. One who did was a young film journalist by the name of Tony Crawley. On 15 June 1959 he wrote, ‘The Kevin McClory search for a screen James Bond makes good copy. This could be the first time the public have cast a cine-hero. But who should it be?’ Crawley’s candidate was an excellent one. ‘He’s Welsh. He’s popular. He is all but an international star. He’s tough. And he’s proved his romantic worth. He’s Stanley Baker.’ Crawley wasn’t alone in suggesting Baker for the part.
By this stage McClory had hired noted screenwriter Jack Whittingham to fashion his and Fleming’s story ideas into a workable screenplay. In early 1960, Fleming personally took this screenplay to the New York offices of his agent MCA. The response was highly positive. According to an internal MCA memo from their film division it was: ‘An excellent first draft screenplay out of which may be produced an excellent commercial motion picture.’24 With respect to casting, the memo read: ‘Mr. Fleming mentioned David Niven. Another thought would be to set it up with 20th Century Fox and attempt to obtain the services of Stephen Boyd. Along this same line of thinking the combination of Peter Finch and Warner Bros. would also make sense.’25
Alas that was about as far as the project went. Christened Thunderball, Fleming took Whittingham’s screenplay and without his or McClory’s permission used the basis of it for his next James Bond novel, not even bothering to change the title. Both McClory and Whittingham sued Fleming for plagiarism and won, with McClory ending up with the film rights to the story. But to all intents and purposes he could do little with them; his thunder had been stolen by two producers, the American Albert R. Broccoli, and the Canadian Harry Saltzman. Both men were based in London and in the spring of 1961 struck up a partnership destined to become the most successful in entertainment history. They shared the same dream as McClory, that of bringing James Bond to the screen. The only difference was – they succeeded in doing it. Taking out an option on Fleming’s novels they scoured Hollywood for potential backers but were met with indifference everywhere. Luckily Broccoli had a personal contact at United Artists and on 20 June 1961, just days before their option on the Fleming novels expired, a deal was struck. At last, a Bond movie was on its way.
The question of who would play the part of James Bond in Dr. No, the film Broccoli and Saltzman had chosen to launch their series, became the male equivalent of the search for Scarlett O’Hara. As early as 1958 Broccoli had been toying with the idea of making Bond films and even went so far as to offer the role to Peter Lawford. This London-born actor certainly had the background and personality to play Bond. The son of a First World War hero, Lawford was an MGM contract player in the 1940s and married four times, once to the sister of John F. Kennedy, making him brother-in-law to the President of the United States. He was also a notorious womaniser and reportedly had romances with Lana Turner, Judy Garland, Grace Kelly, Ava Gardner, Nancy Reagan, Elizabeth Taylor and Marilyn Monroe. Most famous of all Lawford was part of Frank Sinatra’s notorious Rat Pack, along with Dean Martin, Joey Bishop and Sammy Davis Jr, appearing on stage and film with them, most notably in Ocean’s Eleven (1960).
Lawford would have made a pretty decent 007. He was familiar to American audiences and combined David Niven-like English charm with a mild toughness. But the prospect of playing a spy just did not appeal to him back in 1958. It was a missed opportunity that remained one of Lawford’s deepest regrets; although there is no record as to whether or not Broccoli went back to Lawford to offer him the Dr. No gig. Towards the end of his life Lawford sank into drug and alcohol dependency, spending more time in the Betty Ford clinic than film studios, and died in 1984. In 1962 Lawford was among the cavalcade of stars in the epic war drama The Longest Day, the film Sean Connery made just before embarking upon his 007 career.
Because of the impact he’d made as John Drake in the British TV spy series Danger Man, which began in 1960, Patrick McGoohan was one of the first actors approached by the producers to play 007 in Dr. No. Only he turned Broccoli and Saltzman down flat no less than three times, according to McGoohan himself, and never regretted the decision. ‘Patrick actually would’ve made a wonderful Bond,’ says John Glen, an editor on Danger Man, and someone who would become the 007 series’ most prolific director. ‘Pat was asked but said no thank you. He had a thing about kissing on screen and had some hang-ups about the Bond character. I thought he was a wonderful actor.’1
A self-styled puritan, McGoohan stamped his own personality on the Danger Man series, never allowing his character, for instance, to become romantically involved with his leading ladies or to use a gun unless necessary. The licentious and violent behaviour of the Bond character was therefore pure anathema to him. Unlike Drake, who McGoohan tried to base in some kind of reality, Bond was too much of a cartoon strip fantasy. ‘I thought there was too much emphasis on sex and violence,’ McGoohan explained a few years later. ‘It has an insidious and powerful influence on children. Would you like your son to grow up like James Bond? Since I hold these views strongly as an individual and parent, I didn’t see how I could contribute to the very things to which I objected.’2
This puritanical stance was also the reason why McGoohan turned down the chance to star in The Saint when offered it by his TV boss Lew Grade. Amazing to think, isn’t it, that over a twelve-month period McGoohan had the chance to play both James Bond and Simon Templar. The man who eventually landed the role of Leslie Charteris’ playboy adventurer, Roger Moore, was another early Bond candidate, although his involvement in The Saint TV series immediately ruled him out and he was never interviewed. When Moore finally landed the Bond role in 1972, Broccoli told him that he had indeed been on their short list.
For a long time, Broccoli visualised Cary Grant as Bond, and it’s not difficult to understand why. Born in Bristol in 1904, Grant had made a career for himself in Hollywood as the ideal, smooth English gentleman, with just a hint of cruelty and darkness. The two men were actually very close friends; Grant had been best man at Broccoli’s wedding in 1959. Terence Young, who had been hired to direct Dr. No, made the claim that he went over to Hollywood to meet with the superstar. According to Young, Grant agreed to the prospect of doing one picture but was not prepared to sign up for any potential series. More likely Grant realised himself that he was too old (he was already in his late fifties), especially if there was going to be a series, so despite being intrigued by the prospect, and being a fan of the Fleming books, he declined. Broccoli’s wife, Dana, was to admit years later, ‘Cubby would have loved to have Cary play Bond.’3
Rod Taylor was another suave and handsome Hollywood actor considered, then most famous for his role in the 1960 film version of H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine. Born in Australia in 1930, Taylor came to Hollywood in the 1950s, and his virile, matinee idol looks assisted him in scoring numerous film roles. Broccoli, in particular, wanted Taylor to screen test for Bond but the actor declined. ‘I thought it was beneath me,’ he confessed years later. ‘I didn’t think Bond would be successful in the movies. That was one of the greatest mistakes of my career! Every time a new Bond picture became a smash hit, I tore out my hair. Cubby and I laughed about it ever since.’4 Feeling left out, Taylor jumped on the Bond-wagon later in the 1960s, playing novelist John Gardner’s secret agent Boysie Oakes in The Liquidator (1965) alongside future Bond girl Jill St John.
Two other ‘name’ choices were Stanley Baker and Steve Reeves. According to Stanley Baker’s widow, Lady Ellen, the Welsh star refused the Bond producers’ overtures. ‘Stanley was offered a three-film, five-year deal by Cubby Broccoli to do Bond – Stanley didn’t want to be tied down. He never regretted it. He thought Sean Connery the perfect choice.’5 At the time, Baker was Britain’s premier tough guy actor thanks to roles in films like Hell Is a City (1959) and The Criminal (1960). Like fellow Welshman and friend Richard Burton, Baker’s screen presence was gritty and combustible, possessing an aura of dark, even menacing, power. You can quite easily visualise Baker cracking skulls with Robert Shaw aboard the Orient Express in From Russia with Love (1963).
In 1963 Baker produced and starred in the film for which he will always be known, a film incidentally that might well have never seen daylight had he played Bond: Zulu. Baker remained a popular star until his tragic early death in 1976 of cancer at the age of 48.
Steve Reeves was an ex-bodybuilder. In his early twenties he was holder of the Mr America title (1947) and then went on to win Mr Universe twice in 1948 and 1950. Born in Glasgow, Montana, in 1926, he was talent spotted by a casting agent and began making ‘sword and sandal’ pictures in Italy playing muscular biblical heroes like Hercules and Goliath. At one point he was the highest paid actor in Europe.
There were always rumours surrounding whether Steve Reeves was ever approached about the Bond role. According to Christopher LeClaire, who wrote Reeves’ authorised biography and lived and worked for a time on his ranch, the offer was a genuine one. How Christopher got to meet Reeves is an interesting tale. In the early 1990s Christopher was in his early twenties and at college in Boston. With an interest in lifting weights, he read all the muscle magazines but could never identify with the sport because too many participants either took steroids or were behemoth hulks like Schwarzenegger. Then he started reading up on Steve Reeves, who he remembered from watching his films on TV as a kid. ‘The guy had an inspiring physique. He didn’t seem like a Schwarzenegger; he was much more aesthetic.’6
Christopher began to read and research more into Reeves and saw what a fascinating life story he had. When he couldn’t find a biography on him, he decided to write one himself. The problem was Reeves was someone who protected his privacy and was somewhat reclusive. Now in his mid-sixties, he had turned his back on Hollywood and showbiz and was living on a ranch raising horses out in the California desert. Christopher tracked his number down. ‘I called and within two rings I heard the deep baritone voice and I said, “I’m looking for Mr Steve Reeves,” and he said, “This is he.” And I broached the idea of a book to him over the phone.’7
Reeves was somewhat indifferent to the proposal but asked Christopher to call again in a few weeks’ time. Christopher did and they talked some more. After several more phone chats, Reeves finally agreed that Christopher could come over to the ranch when he would have one hour to make his pitch. Christopher flew from Boston to San Diego and rented a Hertz car to drive to the ranch. When the hour was up both men had reached a tacit agreement. Then Christopher decided to go for broke:
I was walking out, then I thought, I’ve got to strike while the iron’s hot. I turned round and said, ‘If I’m going to write a life story about you, I think I’m going to have to move out to California.’ He looked at me and he said, ‘Well, I’ll tell you what, my ranch hand has got to go back to Mexico, if you want there’s a job here on the ranch. There’s some living quarters in the stables, and we’ll give you three square meals a day and $75 a week.’8
When the 1993 spring semester ended at college, Christopher came down to California, something he repeated the following summer. It was gruelling work, cleaning stalls, ploughing fields. And in exchange Reeves submitted to interviews. ‘And so many of the best interviews with Steve were when I was working out in the fields with him or we were driving to get hay or grain for the animals.’9
Inevitably the subject of Bond came up:
We talked about the directors he had worked with, like Sergio Leone, and Steve brought up the name of Terence Young and that he was given the role of Bond in Dr. No. And he would say it so casually. He told me that his agent ran it by him. I think at the time he was living in Switzerland. So he was offered the role. He liked the role. And he was offered $50,000. And at the time Steve was one of the biggest box office draws in the world and the highest paid actor in Europe. He was making $250,000 per film. And this being the first Bond film, there was nothing behind it, it was just a script and a character. Obviously, he was familiar with what Bond was based on. And Steve said, ‘They only offered me less than a quarter of what I was already making.’ And so, he turned it down. He said to me, ‘How was I supposed to know the film would take off the way that it did and make the millions that it was going to make.’10
Christopher got the sense that turning down Bond was one of the biggest regrets of Reeves’ career:
He loved the role and the whole premise. ‘Why wouldn’t I want to do that,’ he said. ‘I always played the good guy, why wouldn’t I have wanted Bond.’ But Steve was so financially savvy. He always reverted back to the money. He said again, ‘They didn’t want to pay me the kind of money I was making.’11
One of the reasons the Bond producers went for Reeves was that he was an in-demand star, and a top box office draw, especially in the European markets, and internationally, though ironically that elevated position led to Reeves pricing himself out of the job. He also looked physically good and would obviously be able to handle the action and fights. He was an American, of course, but this didn’t appear to be an issue. One must also remember that at this time Reeves was getting so many offers and so many scripts that to him the Bond job was just that, another offer. Of course, the producers ended up casting another ex-bodybuilder and Mr Universe contestant in Sean Connery.
According to Christopher, the subject of Bond came up a few times over the course of their many conversations:
And whenever Steve brought it up it was the fact that it could have been a number one role for him, and who knows what it could have really done for him, and I really felt that it stung him. ‘It was a great storyline,’ he told me. ‘I really liked it and I would very much have liked to have played Bond, but the money just wasn’t there.’ I remember once when we were driving in his Jaguar, he turned to me and said, ‘Look here, driving in a sports car. I would have made a great Bond, wouldn’t I.’12
A popular British actor on the producers’ list was Michael Craig, then a Rank contract player. Born in India in 1929 to an English father on military duty, Craig spent much of his adolescence in Canada, where he acquired a slight accent. This may have been what Broccoli and Saltzman saw in him, a debonair leading man not plagued with a clipped British accent but an American-type drawl that would play well on both sides of the Atlantic. Craig left school for the merchant navy at 16, but finally returned to England and the lure of the theatre. Film extra work and small speaking roles eventually led to his discovery by Rank and a series of starring roles in popular movies like Campbell’s Kingdom (1957) and Doctor in Love (1960), taking over from Dirk Bogarde as St Swithin’s newest doctor hunk in the perennial comedy series, and the Ray Harryhausen adventure Mysterious Island (1961).
With his Rank contract expiring, Craig was being wooed by Hollywood, so Broccoli and Saltzman were determined to pounce. They contacted Craig’s agent about setting up a meeting. ‘At the time,’ Craig explains:
Saltzman and Broccoli were more or less joke figures in the film business in England, responsible for some real pot boiling stinkers and notoriously bad payers. No one knew quite how they had managed to get the rights to the 007 franchise, but everyone expected them to really screw up if their past record was anything to go by.13
This is a mildly unfair comment by Craig, especially regarding Saltzman who helped start Woodfall Films, with filmmaker Tony Richardson and writer John Osborne. Together they produced social realism films, dubbed ‘kitchen sink dramas’, such as Look Back in Anger (1959), The Entertainer (1960) starring Laurence Olivier and Saturday Night and Sunday Morning (1960), which made a star of Albert Finney. Craig is probably referring to Broccoli’s track record. Prior to Bond, Broccoli made a slew of pictures with Irving Allen for their production company Warwick Films, most of which were the ‘pot-boilers’ Craig referred to, most notably The Black Knight (1954), a critically lampooned medieval drama with Alan Ladd. However, out of the many bad films they made, The Cockleshell Heroes (1955) and The Trials of Oscar Wilde (1960), their last picture together, were of merit.
Craig recalls that the money on offer to play Bond was £5,000:
I think, not great even then, and they’d want an option for further films at a slightly higher fee. My agent and I agreed that it wasn’t much of a proposition and I turned down the interview. I later found out that a number of actors of my age and experience had likewise turned it down. I’m not remotely suggesting that I’d have been offered the part, or that I’d have been any good in it, I’m just saying how it was for me. Connery was terrific, no one could have been better.14
One man who gave a possible offer to play Bond some serious thought was Ian Hendry. Born in 1931 in Ipswich, Hendry’s ambition was always to be an actor and he attended London’s Central School of Speech and Drama, landing on the same course as future M, Judi Dench. It was the impact he made in the lead role of Dr David Keel in the first series of The Avengers in 1961, alongside Patrick Macnee’s John Steed, that must have alerted the producers to his talent.
Hendry had by now left The Avengers to pursue a career in the cinema and it was his desire not to be tied down to a series of films that informed his decision to turn down Bond, something he came to deeply regret later. There is another story that Hendry was invited to do a screen test but arrived for it drunk (the actor had alcohol issues his entire adult life) and was rejected as a result.
In a newspaper article Hendry talked about how his portrayal of Bond would have been a very different proposition. ‘Bond is supposed to be a man you would pass in a crowd, but you can’t help but notice the characters created by Connery and Roger Moore. I would have been the bloke you do pass in the crowd – until you see the steel in his eyes.’ Not conventionally handsome or particularly debonair, Hendry guessed that this might have hindered his portrayal. ‘My type of character wouldn’t have been so successful. People like big glamorous men. But my face has never been glamorous and my character would have been very down to earth.’
Hendry went on to have a modest film career – highlights included a role opposite Sean Connery in The Hill (1965), Roman Polanski’s Repulsion (1965), Get Carter (1971) and Theatre of Blood (1973). He also appeared in numerous TV series, twice alongside Roger Moore in The Saint and The Persuaders! Sadly, work dried up as the 1970s went on and Hendry died in 1984 at the tragically early age of 53.
As for Hendry’s former Avengers co-star, Patrick Macnee, he has several Bond connections. Back in his early acting days, Macnee worked in Canada and became great pals with Christopher Plummer. During the Bond search, Plummer advised Macnee to have a go. ‘He thought I’d be ideal for it, and if it had been five years earlier, I might have been interested. I looked a bit like a weed, and you have to have the right build for Bond, because it’s wish-fulfilment for everyone.’15 Macnee, of course, later played an amusing role in 1985’s A View to a Kill.
Given the limited budget of Dr. No (just under a million dollars), it’s debatable whether Broccoli and Saltzman could ever have afforded a major star like Cary Grant, or, as we have seen, persuaded an already established star like Stanley Baker or Michael Craig to commit to a film series. And so they turned their sights instead upon either a complete unknown or an actor yet to make it big; in that way audiences would automatically accept him as Bond and the producers could also control and put that actor under a long-term contract.
Pretty high on that list was Richard Johnson, who at one time was Terence Young’s preferred choice. Johnson was born in London in 1927, trained at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art and performed in John Gielgud’s repertory company. After National Service in the navy, Johnson played in the West End and nurtured a growing reputation as a Shakespearean actor. Making small appearances in films, he was spotted by Hollywood and put under contract to MGM. His Hollywood debut was the war drama Never So Few (1959), which saw him co-starring with Frank Sinatra and a young Steve McQueen.
Undoubtedly it was Johnson’s debonair and handsome looks, and considerable acting ability, that made Terence Young insist Broccoli and Saltzman meet him, which they did. And Johnson turned them down. ‘I was under contract to MGM anyway, so that gave me a reasonable excuse to say no, because they told me I’d have to be under exclusive contract to them for seven years.’16 Johnson didn’t much fancy the prospect of playing the same part for that amount of time. ‘Eventually they offered it to Sean, who was completely wrong for the part. But in getting the wrong man they got the right man, because it turned the thing on its head and he made it funny. And that’s what propelled it to success.’17