Authors: Roger Moore
Bond On Bond (32 page)
Dennis Gassner has designed the sets for the last two Daniel Craig films. Here he is in conversation with director Marc Forster.
Here with Michael Wilson and Barbara Broccoli is the director of
Tomorrow Never Dies,
Roger Spottiswoode.
Another hugely important element of the films is, of course, the music. While Monty Norman wrote the ‘James Bond theme’, it was really through the efforts of a Yorkshireman by the name of John Barry that its orchestration became the most famous theme music in the world – which still greets me from pianists when I walk into restaurants or hotel bars. Do I mind? Of course not.
John scored eleven of the films, of which four were mine. He was a lovely, intelligent and gentle man, though one who didn’t suffer fools in his work. Unfortunately, John suffered a ruptured oesophagus in 1988, following a toxic reaction to a health tonic he consumed, and was unable to tackle his twelfth Bond score for
Licence To Kill
. In fact, he couldn’t work for a couple years. When
GoldenEye
came around, different people had different ideas about the music and they didn’t coincide with John’s thinking. He departed the franchise, but subsequently handed over the baton to a pair of very safe hands in David Arnold.
From my own films, I think the best Bond theme is ‘Nobody Does It Better’, as performed by Carly Simon. It sums up Jim brilliantly. It might not have charted as high as one or two others, but it’s probably (now) the most played Bond song on radio, and to my mind is in the true style of brash, bold and melodic Bond fanfares – you left the cinema humming it. Can that be said of more recent title songs, I wonder?
Going hand in hand with the wonderful title music are the opening titles, and for so very many years they were designed by Maurice Binder, who also created the legendary gun barrel opening sequence that produces goosebumps on the back of all Bond fans’ necks, and I do hope it returns proper with Daniel Craig’s third outing.
Maurice Binder taught me how to fire right down the barrel of his lens. He created the famous gun barrel opening for the Bond films, and also designed so many of the wonderful opening titles.
As the sequence was only ever intended to show Bond in silhouette, Sean Connery’s double Bob Simmons was used to film the opening to
Dr. No
. The sequence was used in the next couple of films, but for
Thunderball
– which used the Panavision anamorphic format – it had to be re-shot, and this time they brought Sean in.
I filmed it twice myself: my first two films were shot in 1.85:1 whereas for
Spy
they reverted to the anamorphic format. I know a bit about lenses, having been a director, you see. Not just a pretty face!
Maurice was a perfectionist, and that wasn’t without problems. You see, long after we’d wrapped and the release date was announced, he’d be hard at work. As the premiere approached and our PR machine cranked up, he’d still be hard at work. The film was then, and finally, submitted to the BBFC for certification, and Maurice was still hard at work! I often said the titles were still wet when they left Maurice’s studio – usually the night before the premiere. But Maurice would never let anyone interfere, and I think that’s why he always delivered at the last minute – so nobody had the time to.
Long-time Bond composer John Barry with his wife Laurie at the
Licence To Kill
premiere. Sadly ill health had prevented him from scoring the movie.
He was such a kindly man, and I remember being in LA for his memorial service a couple of months after he died in 1991. Harry’s son, Chris Saltzman, spoke with huge fondness of the man who was their Father Christmas. Every year, Harry would ask his slightly rotund friend to don the outfit and play Santa for the children, and every year Maurice did.
M
Bernard Lee – Bernie – played M in eleven of the Bond films. He was asked to appear in
For Your Eyes Only
but his health was waning, and he declined. Cubby pleaded with him to reconsider, and Bernie said, ‘I’ll come in and test for you,’ wanting to prove his point. Sadly, he was very weak, stumbled over his lines and simply couldn’t finish the scene. Cubby reluctantly agreed to let his friend stand down, though insisted the part would not be recast immediately. Shortly afterwards, Bernie passed away. A couple of his scenes in the film were given to Desmond Llewelyn, and James Villiers took the others as Chief of Staff, in M’s place, saying his boss was on leave.
I had worked with Bernie Lee on a couple of earlier occasions –
Crossplot
and
The Persuaders!
– but very nearly didn’t get to work with him on my debut
Live And Let Die
as, just before filming commenced, his wife Gladys tragically died in a house fire. Uncertain as to whether Bernie would be able to reprise his role, the producers suggested I ask Kenneth More if he would be prepared to step in. Kenneth agreed that he could be available on condition his fee be sent to Bernie.
Bernie insisted that he would return, and we filmed our scenes on B-stage at Pinewood, which was dressed as Bond’s flat; the only time, I believe, apart from in
Dr. No
that we ever saw Jim’s abode, which scholars believe to be in Wellington Square, Chelsea.
Geoffrey Keen was cast as the Defence Minister in
The Spy Who Loved Me
and stayed for five more films. He actually became a bit of a minder to Bernie Lee, particularly when we were on location in Venice filming
Moonraker.
Bernie had a tendency to disappear to a bar, and dear Geoffrey had to keep him out!
When
Octopussy
was gearing up and the question of finding a new M arose, Cubby asked me what I thought. I suggested he might call in Robert Brown for a chat. Bob and I worked on
Ivanhoe
together and I thought he’d be very good as the stoic M. Cubby obviously agreed. Sean, meanwhile, was busy making
Never Say Never Again
, and cast Edward Fox as M.
Of course, in 1995, when Bond returned after the hiatus, the world had changed and Stella Rimmington was head of MI6, prompting the casting of a female M. Who else but the superb Dame Judi Dench?
Behind every successful action hero lies a talented stunt team. Looking at the closing titles of a Bond film, you might count a hundred or more such folks – from drivers, aerial specialists, skiers, acrobats, horse riders … and sex doubles. Well, would you expect me to get into bed with Grace Jones?
When I was in
The Saint
and
The Persuaders!
Les Crawford was my brave double. He came with me for the first two Bonds, but then Martin Grace took on the role. Martin became a great friend, and I always enjoyed hanging around with him and the other stunt boys off set, playing cards, chewing the fat and exchanging funny stories.
Martin was terribly brave. He’d think nothing of hanging off the side of a helicopter, a steep cliff, or even a moving train. Sadly, on
Octopussy
, he was doing the latter when the fast moving engine took the train beyond a checked stretch of line at the Nene Valley Railway (doubling for East Germany) and Martin hit a concrete post. He gripped onto the train, refusing to fall and risk going under, but sustained terrible injuries. He was in hospital for months and it was feared he might never walk again, let alone return to work. But such was the stamina of the man that on my next film,
A View To A Kill
, he was back on set.
A brave bunch of boys made me look so good on screen – be it hanging from a helicopter or skiing off a mountain.
One of the most talked-about stunts of any Bond film was performed by Rick Sylvester. I am, of course, referring to the pre-title ski-jump in
The Spy Who Loved Me
. I remember the premiere so vividly, when a total hush descended over the auditorium as he, playing me, skied off that perpendicular cliff. The silence was broken by amazing applause when the Union Flag parachute opened. The idea came to Cubby after seeing a magazine advertisement of a similar jump, made by Rick. It was one of the riskiest and most costly sequences ever imagined and if there was ever any doubt in Cubby Broccoli’s mind that his first Bond film as a solo producer was going to be anything other than a huge hit, that moment reassured everyone involved.
Here is my stunt dream team: George Leech, Paul Weston, Martin Grace, Richard Graydon.
Special-effects pioneer John Stears (centre), with his right hand men Burt Luxford (left) and Joe Fitt, was one of only two people to ever win an Oscar for a Bond film.
Alec Mills on set with Cubby Broccoli, probably complaining he couldn’t see me and wanted to know where I was as he never trusted me outside his eye line!
I must mention my friends in the camera department who made me look so very beautiful on the big screen. Long-time lighting cameraman Ted Moore was on the very first Bond, and worked on my first two before ill health caused him to withdraw from
The Man With The Golden Gun
, and Ossie Morris replaced him. Two very talented Frenchmen, Claude Renoir and Jean Tournier joined Lewis Gilbert and me, before Alan Hume was given the opportunity to lens
For Your Eyes Only
,
Octopussy
and
A View To A Kill
with my old mate from
The Saint
Alec Mills as his operator. I used to tease young Alec relentlessly, and I remember when we were working on
The Spy Who Loved M
e Lewis suggested it would be an idea to film the inside of a submarine missile tube, to give the impression of a missile loading. Alec refused, unless he was given a guarantee I was not on board. He reckoned I’d hit the ‘fire’ button. Me? Would I?!
We were on location somewhere or other and I remember Alec coming down for breakfast in the hotel, looking rather ashen faced. He explained that half way through the night his door opened and a big burly guy came in and climbed into bed with him and fell asleep. Alec said, in a state of semi-sleep, he was quite terrified.
Elaine Shreyeck, our wonderful continuity supervisor, asked ‘Was he tight? [meaning drunk]’
I couldn’t help myself, and called out, ‘Only the first time!’
Alan and Alec took great trouble to make the leading ladies look good, and as a result made me look less pretty. But I don’t bear a grudge.