Sir Roger Moore, the third actor to play iconic spy James Bond, and the actor having currently appeared in the most films in that role, has passed away at the age of 89 after brief battle with cancer.
It would be presumptuous for me to assume that I had any personal connection to Sir Roger, nor that the feelings of a 30-year-old Puerto Rican would mean anything to the family and friend of Sir Roger, as they are going through a tremendous heartbreak of their own. But it would be a disservice to say that the works of Sir Roger did more to prepare me for my current life and career (as well as the collective works of everyone involved with the James Bond series) than most structured education systems.
The James Bond series was introduced to me at the exact age and moment where I was still determining what I’d wanted to do with my life, back in the halcyon years of high school. I remember vividly waking up at 4:30 in the morning on a cold December, dressing to get ready for a fencing competition in Northern New Jersey, and turning on the TV to see Live And Let Die, as it’d be playing during TBS’ classic weeklong Thanksgiving marathon, while I packed up and prepared. Those were the formative years for me, the ones that made me sure, beyond all else, if I wouldn’t make movies, I’d at the least tell stories. And his, as well as all others’, mattered and helped inspire me like no others’.
Sir Roger Moore was born to a poor family in Stockwell, London, in 1927, and was greatly influenced by his mother, Lillian “Lily”, and had a close relationship to his mother growing up. He always had the self-deprecating sense of humor that would come to define his tenure as Bond, and the suave, sophisticated style that would not only help propel Bond through the rather bizarre outings of the 1970’s (seriously, go back and watch Moonraker and tell me he doesn’t absolutely sell that film with every ounce of being that is in him, silliness and all), but also keep him head and shoulders above any cinematic competition that may come his way.
He was initially one of Ian Fleming’s early choices for Bond in the early 1960’s, before Sean Connery was picked for the role. However, he had an early commitment to the series The Saint that kept him from taking on the role, and…later in the late 1960’s, after Connery had decided to walk away…had taken on a role on the show The Persuaders, which once again prevented him from taking on the role that would cement him as a household name the world over. It wasn’t until 1973, in the Bond blaxploitation film Live And Let Die, that Sir Roger would show the world what he could do with Bond when he took over the role.
Throughout that film, his tenure as Bond, and his writings, there is a sense of humor about Sir Roger that is at once both intimate and rare. Never once does the man fail to poke a bit of fun at himself, and give a wistful, lighthearted anecdote. I’d watched the entire James Bond series on DVD more times than I can possibly count — quite literally thousands of times since 2001 — and Sir Roger’s commentaries always brought a smile (tales of his growing up, his early theater days, and his self-deprecating wit…and always class. The man oozed class.).
Even his autobiography My Word Is My Bond, of which I’d gotten an early copy, brought smiles nearly every other paragraph. Listening to the man spin yarn after yarn did more than a glass of warm milk, and told a lot more about the state of early theater and film history than one would learn in any theatre history class. I remember discovering his 1976 film Shout At The Devil, (made by fellow Bond director Peter Hunt, and several Bond veterans, as well as Lee Marvin) and seeing just how different and dark dark a character he could play, so different from my favorite spy; and his tenure playing Sherlock Holmes (with fellow friend Patrick MaGee), and delighting in his interpretation of a classic character. And once his Bond reached the mid-1970’s, just how splendidly they incorporated practical effects and live stuntwork (just rewatch the opening pre-title sequence of Moonraker, or the mountain-climbing, or ski scenes of For Your Eyes Only and tell me your heart doesn’t pound).
Even now, writing this, I’m watching For Your Eyes Only, and being charmed all the way through, as well as saddened. Because James Bond doesn’t die. He can’t. This is a day I figured would happen sooner rather than later, yet still one that I’d hope would be a few years off. Sir Roger worked hard to protect and represent the needs of children the world round through his ambassadorship in UNICEF, as well as having been knighted by the British monarchy for his works in the British arts. He also espoused on some rather progressive views during his time, especially during his rather strained filming of his Bond debut.
As the publishing and tie-in book of the making of that film showcased, Sir Roger was incensed at the casual use of the N-word by one of the Bond producers; and after being told his love scene with co-star Gloria Hendry would most likely cause Southern theaters to boycott the film, he responded with: ” I personally don’t give a damn and it makes me all the more determined to play the scene.” By the late-1970s, he had likewise attempted to bridge the rift between Sean Connery and Bond producer Cubby Broccoli (it did not go as well as he’d planned, but the fact that he attempted it at all was admirable).
The tales of his life and career are best read and learned through his delightful autobiography, the aforementioned My Word Is My Bond, and other more thorough sites that will offer the more mundane minutiae of his career. But this here is from me, a fan who has been reeled the entire day since hearing the news, who sits barely holding back tears while writing this, because heroes and idols shouldn’t die…and yet they do. And, sadly, it’ll continue to happen because all we can do is get older, if we’re lucky.
But I’ll leave you with this, what I argue is the purest, most joyful, most purely cinematic sequence of scenes ever put together in film history. This here is everything film escapism should be, and, back in 1977, brought audiences to literal standing ovations.
Sir Roger is survived by his children, grandchildren, and wife Kristina. We here, and I personally, extend my deepest condolences and prayers to the Moore, and Bond, family at this time. – J.L Caraballo