Misremembrance of Things Past
When Albert R. Broccoli received the Irving G. Thalberg Memorial Award at the 54th Academy Awards ceremony in 1982, the Bond producer humbly declared that he had never dreamed of one day being given such an honor “from a man who was the idol of all of us.” The universal idol Mr. Broccoli referred to was Roger Moore, who handed the award to his employer, but “handed” it only in the sense that, after introducing the recipient, he placed the trophy on a handy table where the producer could scoop it up later. It seemed to me an awkward handoff.
Was I only imagining things, or did Roger Moore deliberately avoid personal contact with Broccoli, who proceeded to refer to his star as a has-been, not a man who is everyone’s idol, but one who was. You know, he used to be somebody. Did I hear that correctly? I checked the closed-captioning, which verified that he said “was." However, Mr. Broccoli seemed to be reliving a scenario from the 1930’s when he first came to Hollywood, and couldn’t, back then at the dawn of his career, imagine someday receiving such a prestigious honor from the likes of, say, Clark Gable or Gary Cooper.
That’s what he meant. And the men did shake hands before the presentation and again afterward. I was imagining things. Maybe the hands-off handoff is how they always do the Thalberg Award.
Perhaps my suspicious nature had shifted into overdrive because I knew that, as the two men stood together on the stage that memorable night, Broccoli had considered replacing the aging Moore for his very next entry in the series, Octopussy, before learning that Connery’s rival film might actually leave the launching pad at the same time. This was certainly no time to shake up the recipe.
Broccoli probably said what he said to elevate Moore in the crowd’s eyes, just as he had since 1973. Just as the promotions team would always hype the next man to climb into the tuxedo and strap on the Walther, while giving the former tenant the old heave-ho.
When introducing George Lazenby as Connery’s replacement in 1969, the press kit had stressed the need for a younger man who could wear Bond’s wardrobe with a smoother grace, replacing a veteran who, let’s face it, had begun to rely on stuntmen to handle the action scenes. When it came time to ballyhoo Roger Moore as the new Bond, the publicity machine was denied the ability to play the same card. Although Moore was required to lose several pounds and get a haircut before joining MI6, he might have been slimmer, but he was still three years older than Connery. Perhaps it was more important to stress another angle. After all, Roger Moore had been Fleming’s handpicked candidate to play his suave secret agent in the first place…hadn’t he?
While they were in the casting process, according to Broccoli, Fleming took notice that Roger was having quite a bit of success as The Saint on television. Added to this was the fact that Moore had also been the public’s favorite. A London newspaper had polled its readers some months earlier to learn what actor they most wanted to see in the role. Broccoli told reporters that the top vote-getter turned out to be a “guy named Roger Moore."
While the provenance of the original claim that he was Fleming’s number-one draft choice is unclear, the supporting evidence tells a different story. It turns out that Moore did not ink the deal to star as Simon Templar in The Saint until after location photography had wrapped on Dr. No. That London daily paper also got wind of Broccoli’s interview, remembered the story differently, and checked their archives. Roger Moore’s name made the list of also-rans, a few rungs down from the top. The actor getting the most votes had been Sean Connery, perhaps coming off his recent portrayal of Count Vronsky opposite Claire Bloom in Anna Karenina.
Albert R. Broccoli was a consummate showman, a producer with shrewd instincts, and a relentless promoter with an unabashed streak of P. T. Barnum. Without such a man in the driver’s seat, however, I’m afraid Ian Fleming would be little more than a footnote today, instead of a name that still makes the occasional banner headline.