On This Day

1568101197

Comments

  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    Posts: 13,034
    March 29th

    1922: Dana Broccoli is born--New York City, New York. (She dies 29 February 2004 at age 82--Los Angeles, California.)
    1928: Philip Locke is born--St. Marylebone, London, England. (Dies 19 April 2004.)
    1982: Albert "Cubby" Broccoli receives the Irving G. Thalberg Memorial Award from the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences in Los Angeles, presented by Roger Moore. (That Oscar night title song "For Your Eyes Only" was nominated for Best Original Song.)
    5924a09481dac.image.jpg?resize=750%2C491
    1983: The choice of Rita Coolidge (a favorite of assistant director Barbara Broccoli) to sing the latest title song is confirmed. Father Cubby Broccoli hoped for popular singer Laura Branigan, with support from composer John Barry and lyricist Tim Rice.
    1999: A court ruling confirms sole rights of the Bond franchise to MGM (and EON) over Sony (and McClory), who sought to produce rogue missions due to the original Thunderball complications.
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    Posts: 13,034
    March 30th

    1950: Robbie Coltrane is born--Rutherglen, Scotland.
    1958: Raymond Chandler reviews Dr. No in The Sunday Times.
    Originally posted on another forum by @Revelator.

    THE TERRIBLE DR. NO (March 30 1958)

    By RAYMOND CHANDLER

    Ian Fleming first attracted me for three qualities which I thought—perhaps wrongly—almost unique in English writers. The first was escape from mandarin English, the forced pretentiousness, the preoccupation with the precise and beautiful phrase, which to me is seldom precise or beautiful, since our language contains an interior magic which belongs only to those who in a sense, care nothing about themselves.

    The second was daring. He was not afraid to attempt any locale anywhere. He wrote expertly of
    New York’s Harlem and Florida’s St. Petersburg, in both of which he didn’t miss a trick. He wrote of Las Vegas and did miss one small trick. He forgot the glass of ice water which is always the first thing a waitress or bus boy would place on your table.

    What has happened to him in “Dr. No” is what happens to every real writer. He has found that a novel, a thriller, or what you choose to call it, is a world, that it has its own depth and subtleties, and that these can be expressed in an offhand way, without calling attention to themselves, and be very much alive.

    The first chapter of “Dr. No” is masterly. The atmosphere and background of the elegant Richmond Road in Kingston, Jamaica, are established with clarity and charm. They had to be, or the ruthless violence which takes place there would be in a vacuum.

    The third thing that attracted me in Ian Fleming’s writing was an acute sense at pace. How far to go, when to stop, when to destroy a mood and when to regain it, when to write a scene on a postcard and when to write richly and with leisure. Some of the most honoured novels lack this completely. You have to work at them. You don’t have to work at Fleming. He does the work for you.

    The story concerns itself with a strange disappearance of two British agents in Jamaica, and why they disappeared, when no possible reason seemed clear. All was peace, so why suddenly in the night are they gone? James Bond is sent to find out—a trivial matter, a vacation in the sun. Yeah?

    I have a few complaints. The beautiful girl does not appear until page 91, but in return for this she is allowed to live, and the last love scene is more gentle and compassionate than Ian Fleming usually permits. My second complaint is that the long sensational business which is the heart of the book not only borders on fantasy, it plunges into it with both feet. Ian Fleming’s impetuous imagination has no rules. I could wish he would write a book with all but one of his other qualities, yet with a plot which, at least to my world, seems part of what I know to be actual. The sequence is beautifully written, there are many very good things in it, especially detailed descriptions of the locale, the birds, the fishes—Fleming seems to be in love with rare fishes, and other dwellers in the water—some interiors, and a long torture scene which I thought a bit too sadistic, as though, he liked to write this sort of thing for its own sake.

    The terrible Dr. No is a strange creature, but his motives become clear and his end very original. The beautiful girl this time is no sophisticated doll from the night clubs. The ending of the book is, as I said, written with an unusual tenderness—for Ian Fleming. I’m glad of that.
    1962: The Dr. No production completes 58 days of principal filming.
    1985: British Hovercraft Corporation/Vickers Supermarine's Princess Margaret SR.N4 Mk (as used in Diamonds Are Forever) is blown onto a Dover breakwater killing four. 1999: The Kevin McClory Warhead 2000 AD project is terminated when MGM buys the Casino Royale film rights from Sony for $10 million as a court settlement.
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    Posts: 13,034
    March 31st

    1922: Bob Simmons is born--Fullham, London, England. (He dies 21 October 1987 at age 65.)
    1943: Christopher Walken is born--Astoria, Queens, New York City, New York.
    1958: Ian Fleming's sixth Bond novel Dr. No is published by Jonathan Cape.
    2baa3b3935c780d42bada291453369c2.jpg
    jonathan-cape-dr-no-no-dw-dg.jpg
    jonathan-cape-dr-no-dw.jpg
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    edited April 2018 Posts: 13,034
    April 1st

    1931: George Baker is born--Varna, Bulgaria.
    1944: Aliza Gur is born--Ramat Gan, Israel.
    1961: Goldfinger ends its run in The Daily Express. (Started 3 October 1960, serials 698-849.)
    John McLusky, artist. Henry Gammidge, writer.
    latest?cb=20110331061230
    xgf.jpg.pagespeed.ic.-L4L0flJwx.jpg
    xgf1.jpg.pagespeed.ic.-V6iEcDLXg.jpgxgf3b.jpg.pagespeed.ic.mn6ZgDGhcR.jpg
    1963: Ian Fleming's tenth Bond novel On Her Majesty's Secret Service is published by Jonathan Cape.
    8d86ae7c02dee4ac6b06e12cf4c3c83e.jpg
    jonathan-cape-on-her-majestys-secret-service-no-dw.jpg
    on-her-majesty-s-secret-service-by-ian-fleming-first-edition-jonathan-cape-1963-[4]-1140-p.jpg
    jonathan-cape-ohmss-signed-portrait.jpg
    1963: Principal filming of From Russia With Love begins.
    1965: Ian Fleming's twelfth and final Bond novel The Man With the Golden Gun is published by Jonathan Cape.
    006-the-man-with-the-golden-gun-theredlist.jpg
    Golden-DJ.jpg
    22459860844.jpg
    jonathan-cape-the-man-with-the-golden-gun-dw.jpg
    2011: Angela Scoular dies at age 65--Maide Vale, London. (Born 8 November 1945--London, England.)
    2015: Skyfall filming in Mexico comes to a close.
    2016: The Daily Mail prints an exclusive--Broadchurch actress Olivia Coleman cast as first female James Bond. 2018: A remake of Moonraker is announced.
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    edited April 2018 Posts: 13,034
    April 2nd

    1925: George MacDonald Fraser is born--Carlisle, Cumberland, England.
    (Dies 2 January 2008 at age 82--Strang, Isle of Man, United Kingdom.)
    1962: Producers Albert R. Broccoli and Harry Salztman complete a deal with United Artists that finances the first Bond film Dr. No.
    1965: Kingsley Amis reviews The Man With the Golden Gun in The New Statesman.
    Shared by @Revelator on the MI6 Community Novel Bondathon discussion.
    https://mi6community.com/discussion/comment/847292
    ***
    M for Murder

    We left James Bond in Japan, an amnesia victim after a head wound sustained while escaping by balloon from the castle he had destroyed by blocking-up the mud geyser on which it was built. He was under the impression that he was a local fisherman, and Kissy Suzuki, at that time what the newspapers call his friend, did nothing to put him right, at least not mentally. At the end of You Only Live Twice he was taking off for Vladivostok, because it was part of a country that, he sensed, he had had a lot to do with in the past. This was a promising situation. One could hardly wait for the follow-up: inevitable capture by the KGB, questionings and torturings and brainwashings, break out (aided probably by some beautiful firm-breasted female major of the Foreign Intelligence Directorate), the slaying of Colonel-General Grubozaboyschikov of SMERSH, and perhaps of Lieutenant-General Vozdvishensky of RUMID for good measure, in revenge for what happened on the Orient Express in 1957, and final escape over the Wall.

    Nothing of this order takes place in Bond’s latest and last exploit. He’s back in England right at the start, telephoning the Ministry of Defence and apparently set on getting his old job back. It soon emerges that he has indeed been brainwashed, and that the commission allotted him by his Russian controllers is nothing less than the assassination of M. Despite the forebodings pf Miss Moneypenny in the outer office Bond is admitted to the presence, chats briefly about the necessity of working for peace and then whips out a cyanide pistol. But M presses a button which lowers a sheet of armour-plate glass from the ceiling, and the jet of viscous brown fluid splashes harmlessly into its centre.

    I lament this outcome of the attentat very much, and not only because it helps to make everything that follows seem rather small-scale. M has always seemed to me about as sinister as Captain Nash (the moon-maniac who tried to shoot Bond with a specially designed copy of War and Peace) and considerably less amiable than Dr No. The depth of Bond’s devotion to M’s keen, lined sailor’s face and clear blue sailor’s eyes remains something of a mystery. Perhaps the pitch of the old monster’s depravity is reached in the title story of For Your Eyes Only. Here he manoeuvres Bond into volunteering to murder an ex-Nazi in Vermont as a personal favour, and says absolutely nothing when Bond departs to carry out this arduous, dangerous, difficult assignment. Even Mr. Deighton’s pair of boors, Colonel Ross and Major Dalby, might in such circumstances have gone as far as to wish Bond luck or thank him. A faceful of cyanide would have done M a world of good.

    He survives, however, and goes off to luncheon at Blades, just a grilled sole and a spoonful of Stilton. He used to be much greedier than this, cheerfully doing himself harm by guzzling a marrow-bone after his caviar and devilled kidneys and fresh strawberries. In the old days, too, he would go for 20-year-old clarets; he washes down his grilled sole with a bottle of Algerian red too bad to be allowed on the wine-list. We know now why Bond stepped down from broiled lobsters with melted butter in 1953 to cold roast beef and potato salad in 1963. As always, he was following M’s lead.

    After luncheon, M decides to send Bond off to the West Indies to kill a certain Scaramanga, the golden-gun-toter of the title and a free-lance assassin often used by the KGB or Castro. He may well perish in the attempt, for Scaramanga is the best shot in the Caribbean, but that’s all right—to fall on the battlefield would be better than doing 20 years for having tried to kill the head of the Secret Service. Having had a bit of shock treatment at the hands of Sir James Molony, the famous neurologist, and some intensive gun practice at the Maidstone police range. Bond is judged fit for the assignment and in due course noses out Scaramanga in Jamaica. What follows is soon told. Scaramanga hires Bond as his security and trigger-man and takes him off to a half-built hotel on the coast where a ‘business conference’ is to be held. Ostensibly its subject is tourist development. Bond’s identity becomes known and Scaramanga arranges to knock him off during a small-gauge-railway excursion as a piece of light entertainment for the conferrers. But…We last see Bond refusing a knighthood: to accept one would be to aspire inadmissibly to M’s level.

    It’s a sadly empty tale, empty of the interests and effects that for better or worse, Ian Fleming had made his own. Violence is at a minimum. Sex too: an old chum of Bond’s called Mary Goodnight appears two or three times, and on her first appearance puts an arm smelling of Chanel No 5 round his neck, but he gets no more out of her later than an invitation to convalesce at her bungalow. And there’s no gambling, no gadgets or machinery to speak of, no undersea stuff, none of those lavish and complicated eats and drinks, hardly even a brand-name apart from Bond’s Hofffitz safety razor arid the odd bottle of Walker’s de luxe Bourbon. The main plot, in the sense of the scheme proposed by the villain’s, is likewise thin. Smuggling marijuana and getting protection-money out of oil companies disappoint expectation aroused by what some of these people’s predecessors planned: a nuclear attack on Miami, the dissemination throughout Britain of crop and livestock pests, the burgling of Fort Knox. The rank-and-file villains, too, have been reduced in scale.

    In most of the Bond books it was the central villain on whom interest in character was fixed. Moonraker, for instance, is filled with the physical presence of Huger Drax with his red hair and scarred face, bustling about, puffing cigars, playing the genial host when he isn’t working on his scheme to obliterate London. Scaramanga is just a dandy with a special (and ineffective) gun, a stock of outdated American slang and a third nipple on his left breast. We hear a lot about him early on in the 10-page dossier M consults, including mentions of homosexuality and pistol-fetishism, but these aren’t followed up anywhere. Why not?

    It may be relevant to consider at this point an outstandingly clumsy turn in the narrative. Bond has always, been good at ingratiating, himself with his enemies, notably with Goldfinger, who took him on as his personal assistant for the Fort Knox project. Goldfinger, however, had fairly good reason to believe Bond to be a clever and experienced operator on the wrong side of the law. Scaramanga hires him after a few minutes’ conversation in the bar of a brothel. (At this stage he has no idea that there’s a British agent within a hundred miles, so he can’t be hiring him to keep him under his eye.) Bond wonders what Scaramanga wants with him: “it was odd, to say the least of it…the strong smell of a trap.” This hefty hint of a concealed motive on Scaramanga’s part is never taken up. Why not?

    I strongly suspect—on deduction alone, let it be said—that these unanswered questions represent traces of an earlier draft, perhaps never committed to paper, wherein Scaramanga hires Bond because he’s sexually interested in him. A supposition of this kind would also take care of other difficulties or deficiencies in the book as it stands, the insubstantiality of the character of Scaramanga, just referred to, and the feeling of suppressed emotion, or at any rate the build-up to and the space for some kind of climax of emotion, in the final confrontation of the two men. But of course Ian Fleming wouldn’t have dared complete the story along those lines. Imagine what the critics would have said!

    To read some of their extant efforts, one would think that Bond’s creator was a sort of psychological Ernst Stavro Blofeld, bent on poisoning British morality. An article in this journal in 1958 helped to initiate a whole series of attacks on the supposed “sex, snobbery and sadism” of the books, as if sex were bad per se, and as if snobbery resided in a few glossy-magazine descriptions of Blades and references to Aston Martin cars and Pinaud shampoos and what-not, and as if sadism could be attributed to a character who never wantonly inflicts pain. (Contrast Bulldog Drummond and Spillane’s Mike Hammer.)

    These are matters that can’t be argued through in this review. But it seems clear that Ian Fleming took such charges seriously. Violent and bloody action, the infliction of pain in general, was very much scaled down in what he wrote after 1958. Many will regard this as a negative gain, though others may feel that a secret-agent story without violence would be like, say, a naval story without battles. As regards ‘sex’ and ‘snobbery’ and the memorable meals and the high-level gambling, these, however unedifying, were part of the unique Fleming world, and the denaturing of that world in the present novel and parts of its immediate forerunners is a loss. Nobody can write at his best with part of his attention on puritanical readers over his shoulder.

    Ian Fleming was a good writer, occasionally a brilliant one, as the gypsy-encampment scene in From Russia, With Love (however sadistic) and the bridge-game in Moonraker (however snobbish) will suggest. His gifts for sustaining and varying action, and for holding down the wildest fantasies with cleverly synthesized pseudo-facts, give him a place beside long defunct entertainer-virtuosos like Jules Verne and Conan Doyle, though he was more fully master of his material than either of these. When shall we see another?
  • ThunderfingerThunderfinger Das Boot Hill
    Posts: 45,489
    Very nice review. I missed it the first time, so thanks for posting.
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    Posts: 13,034
    April 3rd

    1926: Director of photography Jean Tournier is born--Toulon, Var, France.
    (He dies 5 December 2004 at age 78--Paris, France.)
    1942: Wayne Newton is born--Roanoke, Virginia.
    1961: The Daily Express comic run of Risico begins. (Ending 24 June 1961, serials 850-921.)
    John McLusky, artist. Henry Gammidge, writer. 2010: BBC airs its second OO7 radio drama--Goldfinger--on Radio 4. Cast includes Toby Stephens (James Bond), Sir Ian McKellen (Goldfinger), Rosamund Pike (Pussy Galore).
  • ThunderfingerThunderfinger Das Boot Hill
    Posts: 45,489
    Colombo looks very much like Chaim Topol there.
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    edited April 2018 Posts: 13,034
    April 4th

    1921: Peter Burton is born--Bromley, Kent, England. (He dies 27 November 1989--Chelsea, London.)
    1928: Monty Norman (Monty Noserovitch) is born--London, England.
    1958: The Spectator prints an article by Ian Fleming called "Automobilia" about his Ford Thunderbird, friend Noël Coward, and driving around Jamaica.
    archive.spectator.co.uk/article/4th-april-1958/8/automobilia
    Automobilia
    By IAN FLEMING

    DIG that T-bird!' I had cut it a bit fine round Queen Victoria's skirts and my wing mirror had almost dashed the Leica from the GI's hand. If the tourists don't snap the Queen, at about 10 a.m. on most mornings they can at least get a picture of me and my Ford Thunderbird with Buckingham Palace in the background.

    I suspect that all motorists are vain about their cars. I certainly am, and have been ever since the khaki Standard with the enamelled Union Jack on its nose which founded my &uric in the Twenties. Today the chorus of `Smashing!; 'Cor !' and 'Rraauu !' which greets my passage is the perfume of Araby.

    One man who is even more childishly vain than myself is Noel Coward. Last year, in Jamaica, he took delivery of a sky-blue Chevrolet Belair Convertible which he immediately drove round to show off to me. We went for a long ride to Outer la bourgeoisie. Our passage along the coast road was as triumphal as, a year before, Princess Margaret's had been. As , we swept through a tiny village, a Negro lounger, galvanised by the glorious vision, threw his hands up to heaven and cried, `Cheesus-Kerist!'

    'How did he know?' said Coward.

    Our pride was to have a fall. We stopped for petrol.

    'Fill her up,' said Coward.

    There was a prolonged pause, followed by some quiet tinkering and jabbering from behind the car. 'What's going on, Coley?'

    `They can't find the hole,' said Leslie Cole from the rear seat.

    Coley got out. There was more and louder argumentation. A crowd gathered. I got out and, while Coward stared loftily, patiently at the sky, went over the car front and back with a tooth- comb. There was no hole. I told Coward so.

    `Don't be silly, dear boy. The Americans are very clever at making motor-cars. They wouldn't forget a thing like that. In fact, they probably started with the hole and then built the car round it.'

    `Come and look for yourself.'

    `I wouldn't think of demeaning myself before the natives.'

    'Well, have you got an instruction book?'

    'How should I know? Don't ask silly questions.' The crowd gazed earnestly at us, trying to fathom whether we were ignorant or playing some white man's game. I found the trick catch of the glove compartment and took out the instruction book. The secret was on the last page. You had to unscrew the stop-light. The filler cap was behind it.

    `Anyone could have told you that,' commented Coward airily.

    I looked at him coldly. 'It's interesting,' I said. `When you sweat with embarrassment the sweat runs down your face and drops off your first chin on to your second.'

    'Don't be childish.'

    I am not only vain about my Thunderbird, but proud of it. It is by far the best car I have ever possessed, although, on looking back through my motley stud book, I admit that there is no string of Bentleys and Jaguars and Aston Martins with which to compare it.

    After the khaki Standard, I went to a khaki Morris Oxford which was demolished between Munich and Kufstein. I had passed a notice saying 'Achtung Rollbahn!' and was keeping my eyes peeled for a steamroller when, just before I crossed a small bridge over a stream, I heard a yell in my ear and had time to see a terrified peasant leap off a gravity-propelled trolley laden with cement blocks when it hit broadside and hurled the car, with me in it, upside down into the stream.

    I changed to the worst car I have ever had, a 16/80 open Lagonda. I fell in love with the whine of its gears and its outside brake. But it would barely do seventy, which made me ashamed of its sporty appearance.

    I transferred to a supercharged Graham Paige Convertible Coupe, an excellent car which I stupidly gave to the ambulance service when war broke out.

    Half-way through the war I had, for a time, a battered but handy little Opel. One night at the height of the blitz I was dining with Sefton Delmer in his, top-floor flat in Lincoln's Inn. A direct hit blew out the lower three floors and left us swilling champagne and waiting for the top floor to fall into the chasm. The fireman who finally hauled us out and down his ladder was so indignant at our tipsy insouciance that I made him a present of the crumpled remains of the Opel.

    After the war I had an umpteenth-hand beetle-shaped Renault and a pre-war Hillman Minx before buying my first expensive car—a 21-litre Riley, which ran well for a year before developing really expensive troubles for which I only obtained some compensation through a personal appeal to Lord Nuffield.

    I transferred to one of the first of the Sapphires, a fast, comfortable car, but one which made me feel too elderly when it was going slowly and too nervous when it was going fast. I decided to revert to an open car and, on the advice of a friend, bought a Daimler Convertible. Very soon I couldn't stand the ugliness of its rump and, when the winter came and I found the engine ran so coolly that the heater wouldn't heat, I got fed up with post-war English cars.

    * It was then that a fairly handsome ship came home and I decided to buy myself a luxurious present. I first toyed with the idea of a Lancia Gran Turismo, a really beautiful piece of machinery, but it was small and rather' too busy—like driving an angry washing machine—and it cost over £3,000, which seemed ridiculous. I happened to see a Thunderbird in the street and fell head over heels in love. I rang up Lincoln's. Apparently there was no difficulty in buying any make of American car out of the small import quota which we accept in part exchange for our big motor-car exports to the States. The salesman brought along a fire-engine-red model with white upholstery which I drove nervously round Battersea Park.

    I dickered and wavered. Why not a Mercedes? But they are still more expensive and selfish and the highly desirable SL has only room beside the driver for a diminutive blonde with a sponge bag. Moreover, when you open those bat-like doors in the rain, the rain pours straight into the car.

    I paid £3,000 for a Thunderbird. Black, with conventional gear change plus overdrive, and as 'few power assists as possible. In due course it appeared. My wife was indignant. The car was hideous. There was no room for taking people to the station (a point I found greatly in its favour) and, anyway, why hadn't I bought her a mink coat? To this day she hasn't relented. She has invented a new disease called 'Thunderbird neck' which she complains she gets in the passenger seat. The truth is that she has a prejudice against all American artefacts and, indeed, against artefacts of any kind. She herself drives like Evelyn Waugh's Lady Metroland, using the pavement as if it were part of the road. Like many women, she prides herself on her 'quick reactions' and is constantly twitting Me with my sluggish consideration for others in traffic. She is unmoved when I remind her that in her previous car, a grey and heavily scarred Sunbeam Talbot whose interior always looked as it it had just been used as dustcart for the circus at Olympia, she had been guilty of misdemeanours which would have landed any man in jail. She once hit an old man in a motorised bathchair so hard in the rear that he was propelled right across Oxford Street against the traffic lights. Turning into Dover Street, she had cut a milk cart so fine that she had left her onside door-handle embedded in the rump of the horse. Unfortunately, she is unmoved by these Memories, having that most valuable of all feminine attributes—the ability to see her vices as virtues.

    I have now had my Thunderbird for over two Years. It has done 27,000 miles without a single Mechanical failure, without developing a squeak or a rattle. Its paintwork is immaculate and there Is not a spot of discoloration anywhere on its rather over-lavish chrome, despite the fact that it Is never garaged at night and gets a wash only twice a week. I have it serviced every quarter, but this is only a matter of the usual oil-changing, etc. The only time it ever stopped in traffic was carefully planned to give me a short, sharp reminder that, like other fine pieces of machinery, it has a temperament.

    The occasion was, for the car's purposes, well chosen—exactly half-way under the Thames in the Blackwall Tunnel, with lorries howling by nose to tail a few inches away in the gloom, and with a giant petrol tanker snoring impatiently down my neck. The din was so terrific that I hadn't even noticed that the engine had stopped when the traffic in front moved on after a halt. It was only then that I noticed the rev. counter at zero. I ground feverishly at the starter with- out result. The perspiration poured down my face at the thought of the ghastly walk I would have to take through the tunnel to get the breakdown Van and pay the £5 fine. Then, having reminded Me never again to take its services for granted, the engine stuttered and fired and we got going.

    The reason why I particularly like the Thunderbird, apart from the beauty of its line and the drama of its snarling mouth and the giant, flaring nostril of its air-intake, is that everything works. Absolutely nothing goes wrong. True, it isn't a precision instrument like English sports cars, but that I count a virtue. The mechanical Margin of error in its construction is wider. Everything has a solid feel. The engine—a huge adapted low-revving Mercury V-8 of 5-litre capacity—never gives the impression of stress or strain. When, on occasion, you can do a hundred Without danger of going over the edge of this small island, you have not only the knowledge that you have an extra twenty. m.p.h. in reserve, but the feel of it. As for acceleration, when the two extra barrels of the four-barrel carburetter come in, at around 3,000 revs., it is a real thump in the back. The brakes are good enough for fast driving, but would have to be better if you wanted to drive dangerously. The same applies to the suspension, where rigidity has been sacrificed slightly to give a comfortable ride. Petrol consumption, using overdrive for long runs, averages 17 m.p.g. Water and oil, practically nil.

    There is a hard top for the winter which you take off and store during the summer when the soft top is resurrected from its completely disappeared position behind the seat. The soft top can be put up or down without effort and both tops have remained absolutely weatherproof, which, after two years, is miraculous.

    One outstanding virtue is that all accessories seem to be infallible, though the speedometer, as with most American cars, is a maddening 10 per cent optimistic. The heater really heats; the wipers, though unfortunately suction-operated, really wipe; and not a fuse has blown nor a lamp bulb died. The engine never overheats and has never failed to start immediately from cold, even after all night outside in a frost. The solidity of the manufacture is, of course, the result of designing cars for a seller's market and for a country with great extremes of heat and cold.

    Cyril Connolly once said to me that, if men were honest, they would admit that their motor-cars came next after their women and children in their list of loves. I won't go all the way with him on that, but I do enjoy well-designed and attractively wrapped bits of machinery that really work—and that's what the Thunderbird is, a first-class express carriage.
    page_0000.jpg1955%20Ford%20Thunderbird%20Introduction-05.jpg?m=1344998835
    1959tbird.jpg
    1955_Ford_Thunderbird_BYT568.jpg9606c38d9d7031077c8fa5001f41d1d3.jpg
    Tbird1955_C.jpg
    2015: A filmed message from Daniel Craig recognizes the 10th evolution of Mine Action Day by the United Nations.
    2018: Soon-tek Oh dies at age 85--Los Angeles, California. (Born 29 June 1933--Mokpo, Republic of Korea.)
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    Posts: 13,034
    April 5th

    1909: Albert Romolo "Cubby" Broccoli is born--New York City, New York.
    (He dies 27 June 1996--Beverly Hills, California.)
    Obituary, The Telegraph.
    telegraph_logo1.jpg
    https://telegraph.co.uk/news/obituaries/7733431/Albert-Cubby-Broccoli.html
    Albert "Cubby" Broccoli

    Albert "Cubby" Broccoli, the film producer, who has died in Beverly Hills aged 87, was the driving force behind the phenomenally successful James Bond films, 17 of which he either produced or co-produced.
    2:36PM BST 29 Jun 1996
    cubby-broccoli_1665241c.jpg
    Photo: REUTERS

    A vast, unhurried man with the deeply shadowed eyes of a perpetual jet-setter, Broccoli, ensconced in the calm of his Mayfair office, could remind visitors of one of James Bond's sensual, cat-stroking adversaries.

    But he was noted by the profession for his geniality, and for the fatherly interest he took in his productions. Despite the enormous riches he accumulated from putting Ian Fleming's books on screen, Broccoli was almost believed when he said: "I have always felt that Bond is bigger than all of us."

    In 1960 he formed Eon (standing for "Everything or Nothing") Film Productions in London with the Canadian Harry Saltzman, who held an expiring option on the film rights to all Fleming's Bond books except Casino Royale.

    Broccoli and Saltzman agreed that the film industry should be international in scope, but their working methods were contrasting. While Saltzman revelled in his tough image, Broccoli became known as one of the industry's nice guys. As Michael Caine said, "Cubby is Harry's sense of proportion. They're like two policemen: Cubby gives you a cigarette and Harry knocks it out of your mouth."

    Their break came in 1962 when they persuaded United Artists to provide backing for Dr No, and made the inspired casting of Sean Connery - who, they thought, had the right walk - as Bond. An immediate hit, the film was followed by From Russia With Love (1963), Goldfinger (1964) and Thunderball (1965).

    By then the partners were pounds 4 million the richer. Their partnership, which was always combative, endured until 1975, when Saltzman sold his share and Broccoli became the undisputed chief of the Bond industry. As such he took an unusually involved approach, embroiling himself in every stage of a film's development.

    "Bond is the only script written by a committee," he said. "I sit down with the writer, director and executive producer and we decide what we want in the script. The final decision," he added, "is made by me."

    Albert Romolo Broccoli, always known as "Cubby", was born in New York on April 5 1909, the son of Italian immigrants. His father was a bricklayer. With no idea what he would do with his life, young Cubby helped an uncle who ran a market garden in Long Island. He would later claim that this uncle brought the first broccoli seeds to America and gave his name to the well-known vegetable. Etymologists think otherwise.

    After a spell managing a coffin-factory, Broccoli was alerted by a holiday in Hollywood to his desire for a career in films and he moved out to the west. Not an immediate success, he worked as a street-corner Christmas tree hawker and as a salesman of hairdressing products in San Francisco, where he lived in one room with only a rat for company.

    "I really looked forward to seeing that rat. I fed him. He became a friend. Then one day I won a few dollars at the races. That was it: I said goodbye to the rat and made for LA." He became a teaboy at 20th Century Fox studios and soon progressed to the post of assistant director.

    During the Second World War, Broccoli served in the navy. Afterwards he worked in Hollywood as an agent and then settled in London. In 1951 he formed Warwick Film Productions with Irving Allen and produced a large number of competent pictures with tough characters and lots of action. These include The Red Beret (1953), Safari (1956) and The Killers of Kilimanjaro (1959).

    Although generally jovial and given to dishing up spaghetti for cast and crew, Broccoli could be stern. In 1970 he explained why the contract of George Lazenby, who played Bond in On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969), had not been renewed. "Our parting was not by mutual desire," he said, "but by our desire. I wouldn't use him again. He's a pain in the arse."

    Broccoli returned to Hollywood in 1977, for tax reasons. In 1982 he was honoured at the Oscar ceremony with the prestigious Irving G Thalberg award. He was appointed OBE in 1987.

    Extremely skilful at negotiating a fair share for himself from the Bond films, Broccoli amassed an estimated pounds 100 million.

    He married, in 1959, Dana Wilson; Cary Grant was best man. They had two daughters.

    8472942_111585430273.jpgBroccoliDanaAlbert.jpg
    GW556H371
    film-producer-albert-cubby-broccoli-and-his-wife-dana-attend-the-of-picture-id175576258?k=6&m=175576258&s=612x612&w=0&h=yXJJdz9vffp0LDtQGK2pTiC69gYPJH-fV1hYSEPzx_Q=
    8472942_127619709298.jpg
    DSCN1410.JPG
    1954: Ian Fleming's second Bond novel Live and Let Die is published by Jonathan Cape.
    liveandletdie.jpg
    md22672208010.jpg
    21918375604.jpg
    1955: Ian Fleming's third Bond novel Moonraker is published by Jonathan Cape.
    15815625208.jpg
    md15195074783.jpg
    1274.jpg

  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    Posts: 13,034
    April 6th

    1940: Pedro Armendáriz Jr. is born--Mexico City, Distrito Federal, Mexico.
    (He dies 26 December 2011 at age 71--New York City, New York.)
    2011: Sam Mendes and Barbara Broccoli scout South African locations for Bond 23.
    2016: James Bond #6 Vargr is set for release this date (delayed to 20 April).
  • ThunderfingerThunderfinger Das Boot Hill
    Posts: 45,489
    That comic looks good. I lived at Rygge a few years a long time ago, when the airport there was still military. Now it is closed down.
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    Posts: 13,034
    April 7th

    2007: Barry Nelson (Haakon Robert Nielsen) dies at age 89--Bucks County, Pennsylvania.
    (Born 16 April 1917--San Francisco, California.)
    2010: Barbara Broccoli and Michael G. Wilson with David Pope engage in an international phone conversation to discuss whether the next Bond film production can go forward considering the state of MGM.
    thr-logo-white.svg?355aafeae510fb036067
    THR Cover: How the Bond Franchise Almost Died

    After MGM's collapse threatened to derail 007 for good, "Skyfall's" $17 million star Daniel Craig lined up director Sam Mendes and villain Javier Bardem -- over drinks — and delivered the biggest Bond yet.

    This story first appeared in the Nov. 16 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine.

    On April 19, 2010, James Bond effectively died. After almost a year and a half of trying to get a new 007 film made while its parent studio, MGM, was spiraling toward bankruptcy, producers Barbara Broccoli and Michael G. Wilson finally pulled the plug.

    PHOTOS: The Making of 'Skyfall': Bond is Back, Better Than Ever

    That's when the London-based half-siblings issued a statement: "Due to the continuing uncertainty surrounding the future of MGM and the failure to close a sale of the studio, we have suspended development of Bond 23 indefinitely. We do not know when development will resume."

    Today, the 23rd James Bond film, Skyfall, has opened to record numbers at the European box office and is drawing rave reviews from critics. It earned $287 million in its first 10 days, boding well for the picture's Nov. 9 debut in the U.S. Its success will add significantly not only to the franchise's value (which some estimate as high as $1.2 billion), but also to that of MGM, which co-owns Bond with Broccoli and Wilson and is expected to launch an initial public offering in 2013.

    That is great news for MGM and Sony, which jointly financed the roughly $210 million film (less than $200 million after tax breaks) and for Daniel Craig, 44, who earned $17 million for his third outing as Ian Fleming's spy.

    All this seemed a distant dream, however, back in 2010.

    "We were gutted," says Broccoli, who took over the series from her late father, Albert R. "Cubby" Broccoli. "But the physical studio, Pinewood, was on hold, and so were people all around the world, and we had no choice. It was a horrible thing to do, and we'd already been through all this before." She had vivid memories of the years Bond spent in the wilderness, between Timothy Dalton's final 007 venture, 1989's Licence to Kill, and Pierce Brosnan's first, 1995's GoldenEye: "We thought, 'Here we go again.' "


    Skyfallfirst really kicked into life in 2009, when American Beauty's Oscar-winning director, Sam Mendes, ran into Craig at a birthday party for their mutual friend Hugh Jackman in New York City.

    "It was in the evening, and Sam turned up late," Craig recalls of the man who previously had directed him in 2002's Road to Perdition. "I hadn't seen him for a long time and he apologized for saying to Entertainment Weekly that I wouldn't be a good Bond! He was also complimentary about Casino Royale. And, very selfishly, I started picking his brains."

    As their conversation escalated, Craig discussed how he wanted to restore a sense of humor to Bond, one that he had initially felt uncomfortable with and was mostly absent from 2006's Casino Royale and 2008's Quantum of Solace. The actor confided his desire for the new film to be very much a contemporary thriller. In turn, "Sam's ideas started coming out, and I'd had a few too many drinks and I completely overstepped the line and said, 'Why don't you do it?' And Sam said, 'Why not?' "

    The next day, Craig sheepishly called Broccoli and Wilson to mention the conversation, and discovered they were thrilled. The producers had been wrestling with a treatment written by Peter Morgan (The Queen) and regular Bond scribes Neal Purvis and Robert Wade, but they were dissatisfied with the storyline and hadn't even approached a director. Martin Campbell, who'd already rebooted Bond twice -- with Casino Royale and GoldenEye -- had made it clear he wanted to move on to other challenges, while Marc Forster's Quantum had been met with widespread critical indifference, even though it earned $586 million around the world.

    So, two weeks after the Craig call, Broccoli, 52, and Wilson, 69, flew to New York and had lunch with Mendes at Cookshop restaurant in Chelsea, close to his then-home.


    "I was very honest about Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace and where I thought it might be possible to take this movie, in the most general of terms," Mendes recalls. "Michael did say at one point, 'Why would an auteur or somebody who has a career in serious pictures want to do a Bond movie?' I said, 'Bond is a serious movie.' And I stuck to that throughout."

    He continues: "I wanted to know, would they consider killing M and bringing back Q and Moneypenny? And did they want -- as I did -- a more flamboyant, old-style villain, the sort that emerged in the Sean Connery movies? And the answer to all those things was yes. And that was in many ways our starting point for working out what the story would be."

    From fall 2009 into 2010, Mendes, 47 -- whose last movie was the 2009 low-budget dramedy Away We Go -- refined the script with Purvis and Wade, and also persuaded nine-time Oscar-nominated cinematographer Roger Deakins (No Country for Old Men) to join the team.

    Everything seemed headed toward a late 2010 start -- and then the continuing financial issues that had plagued MGM reached their nadir.

    "They couldn't guarantee anything," Broccoli laments. "The company was going into bankruptcy, and they didn't know how it was going to emerge. But we needed to know we would have financing and distribution -- and there was no deal with Sony in place at the time." (Sony had distributed the previous two Bond films.)

    Mendes admits he seriously considered pulling out. In London, following his split with wife Kate Winslet, he was developing an adaptation of Ian McEwan's 1960s-based drama On Chesil Beach but had problems casting it. Other offers came his way -- he even had brief talks about helming The Hunger Games -- and yet he resisted.

    "I was tempted to go," he acknowledges. "I said to Barbara, 'Can you give me some assurance this is going to happen?' She said, 'To be honest, I can't.' But I had a feeling it would be sorted out, so I took the risk of turning down other work and just waiting." Later, Mendes says he came to regard the forced break as a gift: "While we sat around waiting, we quietly carried on with the script, and as a consequence we ended up with a much better draft."

    The director then took the Purvis and Wade draft to longtime friend and screenwriter John Logan (The Aviator). "He and I spent about six weeks together just talking," Mendes says. "He came to me in London, and even joined me when I went to visit my kids in Paris [where Winslet was shooting Carnage]. He wanted answers to every single question: what the shape of the film would be, what we would retain, what we would abandon."


    Logan praises the script he received as a "great machine" and saw his job "not so much about cataloguing changes as bringing a certain sensibility to the material" -- helped by his familiarity with Fleming's novels. "I'm a great fan of the books and coincidentally had listened to all of them," he notes. (He reportedly has since been hired to work on scripts for Bond 24 and Bond 25, which may, for the first time, carry a story across two movies.)

    The writer and director discussed favorite films that might color various sequences, including Charles Laughton's haunting 1955 drama The Night of the Hunter. "Sam and I talked a lot about why a Bond movie is a Bond movie and not a Bourne or a John le Carre," Logan says. "It has to do with that intense seriousness and a pain that hurts and also this sense of panache and elegance."

    Before the Skyfall machinery could fully be engaged, MGM's financial uncertainty had to be resolved. Broccoli and Wilson shuttled endlessly across the Atlantic.

    "We had different meetings with everyone from [MGM CEO] Harry Sloan [before he was pushed out in August 2009] to Stephen Cooper, who was brought in [as MGM vice chairman] by all the equity guys to reorganize the company. We had meetings in Los Angeles, in New York, all over the place. We were meeting a lot of people, because it was a revolving door, and to try and get a handle on the situation was chaotic. It didn't look like it was going to be resolved for some time and we didn't want to be a pawn in all this. The whole situation looked very opaque."

    Saddled with debt, MGM desperately sought a buyer but failed to find one willing to meet its $2 billion minimum asking price. Without that, the studio simply didn't have the cash to fund Bond.

    Broccoli, Wilson and their Los Angeles-based colleague David Pope arranged a transatlantic telephone call on April 7, 2010, to discuss whether they could realistically go ahead, bearing in mind that Mendes' option had to be exercised by May 31 or they would lose him.

    "Between April 7 and April 15, we had discussions with both Sony and Warners [potential MGM buyers] and realized nothing was going to happen with MGM before the summer," says Pope, a co-producer on Skyfalland CEO of Danjaq Llc., which controls many of the rights to Bond. "We were trying to work out, would MGM be stable enough for us to engage [Mendes]? It became clear that things would be up in the air for a while."


    On April 17, Broccoli, Wilson and Pope had one final conversation on the subject in which "we made the decision to postpone the film -- and on April 19 we announced the delay," says Pope.

    "You feel devastated," notes Wilson. "A lot of people had come to us and said, 'Should we take this other thing?' And people would hang back and not commit to those things -- and that's a terrible thing to do. At a certain point, we just had to cut the cord."

    Broccoli adds: "We had suffered through a six-year hiatus and were looking at the possibility of the same thing again. We had the 747 loaded up and ready to go down the runway, and we were being told MGM was going into bankruptcy. It was a very perilous situation."

    When the studio emerged from bankruptcy at the very end of 2010, however, everything changed. Its new owners brought in former Spyglass chiefs Gary Barber and Roger Birnbaum as co-chairmen (Birnbaum has since departed) and, more important, they obtained a $500 million revolving credit line through JP Morgan and Deutsche Bank.

    Sony Pictures Entertainment co-chair Amy Pascal was keen to move ahead, and agreed to a complex deal through which Sony funded the film with MGM, also taking a stake in Bond 24, while MGM co-financed The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo.

    The film that had variously been known as Silver Bullet, A Killing Moon and Once Upon a Spy -- as well as Bond 23 -- finally was a go.

    Now the production team began to lock in the elements -- not least signing Javier Bardem to play Raoul Silva, a flamboyant and probably gay former agent whose mission is to destroy M (Judi Dench).

    Mendes disputes reports that he talked to Anthony Hopkins and Kevin Spacey about joining the cast, and Bardem confirms he started conversations after being collared by Craig -- like Mendes. "I was at a fund-raiser for Haiti at [Crash director and Casino Royale writer] Paul Haggis' house," Bardem explains, "and Daniel approached me. Of course, he excused himself for bringing business into the conversation, but he asked, 'Would you be interested in doing a Bond movie?' And I said yes. Daniel is the soul of the whole thing."

    The Spanish actor immersed himself in his role, having the screenplay translated into his native tongue. "I usually do that, because there is something organic to the words, and when you are speaking a language that is not your mother tongue, words can be misunderstood," he observes. "You need to have the emotional knowledge."

    Even before that translation, "The first time I read the script, I knew there was something very powerful," he says. "And then I spoke to Sam, and he told me the key word for the character was uncomfortable. This was not about creating fear or menace; it was about creating an uncomfortable situation for the others."

    While Bardem experimented with different looks, eventually dyeing his hair blond for the role, the production team searched for the sort of exotic locations that have long been critical to the Bond brand. At first, the film was meant to open in Mumbai, with a long chase that has Bond racing through a densely populated market, jumping on a motorbike and eventually fighting an opponent on top of a train as it hurtles into the countryside.

    But Mendes' hopes of filming in Mumbai were dashed when he discovered the sheer impracticality of an Indian shoot. "It is logistically incredibly difficult to shut down the center of an enormous Indian city," he says. "We tried to make it work and to embrace the chaos, but in the end there were too many dangers -- I don't mean from people trying to sabotage production, but there are narrow streets [that are difficult to film in]. I was very disappointed."

    Exploratory trips to Cape Town and Johannesburg proved equally fruitless. And then, for the first time in his life, Mendes visited Istanbul. "I found it was everything we wanted and more, and gave us so many ideas," he says. "Suddenly you are walking through the Grand Bazaar and someone says, 'You can go up on the roof,' and then you find a way of factoring that into the story," with Bond's pursuit leading him over the rooftops of the city.


    Budget limitations restricted plans for filming in Shanghai and Macao to just four nights in the former; an ultra-modern stadium at England's famed Ascot racecourse stood in for Shanghai's Pudong International Airport.

    Shooting began Nov. 7, 2011, in London, with a simple scene in which Bond drives into a subway tunnel, and the crew -- numbering about 400 at its peak -- subsequently moved to the "Bond stage," the vast space at Pinewood Studios just west of London, where they would work for almost a year. There, they filmed one of the most challenging sequences ever shot for a Bond feature, where a subway train crashes through a roof and into an underground hideout.

    "That was real, not CGI," Mendes observes. "The head of special effects, Chris Corbould, constructed a track high above the set that was pointed down so that the train came crashing through the roof. We built two carriages and crashed them through the ceiling, and shot it with 11 cameras. We had to evacuate the stage to shoot, and when it came crashing through, it dismantled most of the 007 stage."

    "It was a one-shot deal," he adds. "If it hadn't worked out, it would have been two million quid [roughly $3 million] to reshoot. That was pretty nerve-racking."

    So was the opening sequence, which has Craig (strapped to a safety wire in reality) chasing that opponent on top of a moving train. It ended up being just about the last thing filmed and eventually involved three separate Turkish cities -- Istanbul, Fethiye and Adana -- where it was shot over 53 days.

    "You are literally only getting one setup every four or five hours and having to work around the local train timetable, and it was 110 degrees," Mendes notes. "That's where Daniel's real heroism came in: He was on top of the train in a suit, attached by a wire." With all the takes, he needed "something like 30 different versions of the same gray suit" in different states of disrepair, Mendes laughs. "And these were very fine suits!"

    British actress Naomie Harris, who plays one of the two Bond girls -- she was hired on the recommendation of director Danny Boyle, who had worked with her on 28 Days Later, and she likely will have a recurring role in future films -- remembers feeling guilty when she messed up a shot. "I was shooting and I left my safety catch on the gun, and everyone said, 'Fire!' -- and there was nothing. That was a massive wait, and I felt awful."

    Throughout the 127-day shoot, which wrapped May 25, Mendes insisted on live action rather than CGI wherever possible. Indeed, there are only 500-some-odd CGI shots in the 143-minute movie (including one where MI6's London headquarters is blown up), compared to more than 2,200 effects shots in The Avengers. This meant Craig had to perform many of the stunts in difficult situations. And yet the only injury he suffered came during rehearsals, forcing two weeks of the film to be rescheduled while he healed.

    "I tore a muscle in my calf doing something completely innocuous," he remembers. "I was trying to kick a stunt man, and stepped back on my foot. I heard it go snap and thought, 'Who the f-- did that!' "


    The pain, both real and metaphysical, has paid off.

    "Dramatically gripping while still brandishing a droll undercurrent of humor, this beautifully made film certainly will be embraced as one of the best Bonds," wrote THR's chief movie critic, Todd McCarthy, adding that it "leaves you wanting the next one to turn up sooner than four years from now."

    If MGM has its way, it will. Bond's return to the screen has been crucial to the studio, whose anticipated IPO features the Bond franchise and Peter Jackson's upcoming The Hobbit trilogy as its two prized possessions, along with a library of 4,000 titles.

    Analysts are reluctant to place a value on Bond, whose ticket sales to date have reached almost $5 billion -- not to mention billions more in DVD and ancillary sales -- but the combined promise of Skyfall and The Hobbit have increased MGM's value.

    On Oct. 22, THR revealed that MGM Holdings had decided to delay the IPO, which insiders believe will take place in 2013 rather than before Skyfall's opening, as originally planned. That's largely based on the studio's confidence in Skyfall and The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, which opens Dec. 14.

    "[Skyfall's success] would be incrementally positive to any proposed stock offering," says Piper Jaffray analyst James Marsh. "First, it likely increases estimates. It also likely raises the short-term growth rate, improves predictability of future cash flow. It was debatable if this franchise was getting a little long in the tooth; outperformance like this suggests it has a longer life."

    If it does, MGM can thank Broccoli and Wilson, who have devoted most of their own lives to Fleming's creation. They recently signed Craig for at least two and possibly three more movies and hope to have the next Bond ready a couple of years from now. "It's been a great partnership," Broccoli says of Craig. "You couldn't ask for a better leading man."

    Still, after four years on Skyfall, she admits she is too exhausted to think far ahead. "We only finished the film last Wednesday," she said on Thursday, Oct. 18, as she raced from one press conference to another. "We warned Sam how tired he'd be, but he didn't quite believe it. Right now we just want to enjoy the moment."
    2017: Tim Pigott-Smith dies at age 70--Northampton, England.
    (Born 13 May 1946--Rugby, Warwickshire, England.)
    2018: Heritage Auctions' April 7-8 Movie Poster Auction in Dallas, Texas, includes one of Bond's rarest: the Thunderball advance British quad. Plus many other Bond pieces.
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    edited April 2018 Posts: 13,034
    April 8th

    1931: John Gavin (Juan Vincent Apablasa) is born--Los Angeles, California.
    (He dies 9 February 2018 at age 86--Beverly Hills, California.)
    1957: Ian Fleming’s fifth Bond novel From Russia With Love is published by Jonathan Cape.
    d63db202bde87a781c4b25ba1c3247eb.jpg
    boardgun.jpg
    from-russia-with-love-by-ian-fleming-first-edition-first-impression-jonathan-cape-1957-[3]-2855-p.jpg
    1964: From Russia With Love has its US premiere in New York City.
    (That's after the London premiere 10 October 1963/UK release 11 October 1963, and prior to the US general release 27 May 1964.)
    2017: Ian Fleming Publications releases a 60th anniversary image recognizing From Russia With Love.
    17835208_1289655541123976_2176755492398009331_o.jpg
  • ThunderfingerThunderfinger Das Boot Hill
    Posts: 45,489
    @RichardTheBruce , you got the year wrong re: GF premiere. The US had its premiere in 1965 of course, and the world premiere was in September 1964.
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    edited April 2018 Posts: 13,034
    Of course you're right, @Thunderfinger, thanks for the correction.

    [Checking my reference, I actually misapplied the film title--was intending to recognize From Russia With Love using those original dates.]
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    Posts: 13,034
    April 9th

    1991: Maurice Binder dies at age 72--London, England. (Born 4 December 1918--New York City, New York.) 2013: An article in NewStatesman relates Anthony Burgess' obsession with James Bond.
    new%20statesman.png
    https://www.newstatesman.com/culture/2013/03/anthony-burgesss-007-obsession
    FILM - 9 April 2013

    Anthony Burgess’s 007 obsession
    Unbreakable Bond.
    By Andrew Biswell

    Ian Fleming and Anthony Burgess might seem an unlikely double act at first glance. It’s hard to imagine Fleming, the suave Old Etonian and veteran of British naval intelligence, having much time for Burgess’s defiantly northern, Catholic, working-class values. Had they met, Fleming may well have agreed with Burgess’s aristocratic pupils at the Malay College in Kuala Kangsar, the “Eton of the east” (where he taught in the 1950s), one of whom later said that Burgess was “not quite a gentleman”. Although Burgess and Fleming shared an agent – the amiable Peter Janson-Smith – there is no evidence to suggest that Fleming ever took the trouble to read A Clockwork Orange or any of Burgess’s other early novels.

    Yet Burgess was fascinated by Fleming and in particular by the James Bond novels, which he read with close attention after Terence Young’s film version of Dr No was released in 1962. Burgess’s book collection, now at the International Anthony Burgess Foundation in Manchester, includes a complete run of the Bond novels and short stories, John Pearson’s The Life of Ian Fleming, Christopher Wood’s novelisations of the films and two copies of The James Bond Bedside Companion. Like his friend Kingsley Amis (who wrote the first post-Fleming Bond novel, Colonel Sun, under the pseudonym Robert Markham), Burgess was excited by the potential of the cold war espionage novel to reach a larger readership than his upmarket literary fictions were ever likely to attract.

    Writing on the occasion of Bond’s 35th anniversary in 1988, Burgess celebrated the enduring figure of the international agent known for drinking vodka Martinis and “cold lovemaking with other men’s wives”. In his general introduction to the Coronet series of James Bond reprints, Burgess identified Bond as a hero figure who seemed to defy the austerity of post-1945 Britain.

    There is an element of self-identification with Fleming on Burgess’s part, since both of them had come to the writing of popular novels in their middle years. Yet Burgess was aware of the growing distance between Fleming’s novels and the series of films that threatened to displace them in the popular imagination. “Bond,” he wrote, “is often compared facially to Hoagy Carmichael, the composer of ‘Stardust’, a song hit of the 1920s, but for very young readers the name ought to be glossed in a footnote. Bond belongs to history and these are historical novels.”

    Burgess’s first attempt at a spy thriller came in 1966, with the publication of Tremor of Intent, a kind of parody of the James Bond novels, featuring a British spy whose enormous appetites for food and athletic sexual intercourse cancel each other out. Having spent time with his first wife in Leningrad and having used elements of Russian vocabulary to construct an invented slang for Alex and his “droogs” in A Clockwork Orange, Burgess was well placed to write about what he had seen in the Soviet Union during the Khrushchev and Brezhnev years.

    It is clear from Tremor of Intent that Burgess did not share Fleming’s fathomless hatred of Soviet Russia. In From Russia, with Love, for example, Fleming presents his Soviet characters as deformed villains or sinister masturbators. Burgess’s Russians tend to be either inefficiently buffoonish or harmlessly drunk. This was a reflection of his own experience of visiting Russia for the first time in July 1961. He had expected to find an Orwellian dictatorship full of secret police. When a large fight broke out in the street outside the Metropol restaurant at 3am, no police arrived to break it up. “It is my honest opinion that there are no police in Lenin - grad,” Burgess noted shortly afterwards. When he wrote as much in the pages of the Listener, there was a complaint from the Soviet ambassador and he was officially denounced on Radio Moscow.

    Tremor of Intent is also a critique of the excessive appetites to be found in Fleming’s books. One of the set pieces in Burgess’s parodic Bond novel is an eating competition between the British spy Hillier and Theodorescu, a sybaritic villain with a suspiciously perfect English accent. Burgess describes the endless courses with relish:

    They got through their sweets sourly. Peach mousse with sirop framboise. Cream dessert ring Chantilly with zabaglione sauce. Poires Hélène with cold chocolate sauce. Cold Grand Marnier pudding, strawberry Marlow. Marrons panaché vicomte. “Look,” gasped Hillier, “this sort of thing isn’t my line at all . . . I think I shall be sick.”

    Many critics did not notice that Burgess had written an allegory of the seven deadly sins. William Pritchard, who understood the point of Tremor of Intent, wrote in the Partisan Review: “It might be thought odd that a book whose subjects include gluttony satyriasis, covetousness, smacking self-regard and nagging self-disgust turns out to be not just human but humane.”

    Determined to appeal to at least some of Fleming’s readers, Burgess told his editor at William Heinemann that he wanted a dust jacket suitable for the espionage genre. The art department duly produced an image of a spy in a white shirt and black tie, holding a gun and apparently being fellated by a naked woman. This provoked the outrage of the state censors in Malta, as Burgess discovered when he moved there and tried to import a copy.

    In 1975, Burgess revived some of the characters from Tremor of Intent when he was commissioned by Albert R Broccoli to write a screenplay for The Spy Who Loved Me. Fleming’s original novel was considered unsuitable for adaptation but the title was retained with the aim of building a new story around it. Burgess’s script, which is now at the University of Texas at Austin, is an outrageous medley of sadism, hypnotism, acupuncture and international terrorism.

    The plot concerns a private clinic in Switzerland, where small nuclear devices are secretly inserted into the bodies of wealthy patients while they are under anaesthetic, turning them into human bombs. An organisation called Chaos (Consortium for Hastening the Annihilation of Organised Society) plans to detonate one of these devices at the Sydney Opera House while the Queen is in the audience. Bond uses his newly acquired acupuncture skills to perform an emergency operation and defuse the bomb.

    Having read Burgess’s script, Broccoli and his associates decided not to put it into production. They probably suspected (quite rightly) that Burgess was not taking the assignment entirely seriously. The only element from Burgess’s script that survived into the 1977 Roger Moore film was the villain’s underwater base. The script credit went to Christopher Wood and Richard Maibaum.

    That may not be the end of the story, however. When Burgess was in the early stages of negotiating with Broccoli, they agreed that the book rights would remain with Burgess and that he would be free to publish a novelisation of his script. The opportunity is still there for another novelist, with the blessing of the Burgess estate, to write an espionage novel based on the materials that Burgess left behind. Perhaps Sebastian Faulks or William Boyd, who have both written Bond novels of their own, could be persuaded to take up the gauntlet?

    “Tremor of Intent” is published in paperback by Serpent’s Tail (£8.99). Andrew Biswell is the director of the International Anthony Burgess Foundation
    22410464326.jpg
    2015: In a GQ Magazine feature article Christoph Waltz categorically denies he is playing Blofeld in BOND 25.
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    Posts: 13,034
    April 10th

    1929: Max von Sydow is born--Lund, Skåne län, Sweden.
    1975: David Harbour is born--New York City, New York.
    1992: Cec Linder dies at age 71--Toronto, Canada. (Born 10 March 1921--Timmins, Ontario, Canada.
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    edited April 2018 Posts: 13,034
    April 11th

    1960: Ian Fleming's first story collection For Your Eyes Only is published by Jonathan Cape.
    dscf5676.jpg
    jonathan-cape-for-your-eyes-only-no-dw.jpg
    10319_4-600x327.jpg
    1981: Alessandra Ambrosio is born--Erechim, Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil.
    OMEGA Aqua Terra watch campaign.
    Alessandra-Ambrosio-OMEGA-Watches-Campaign04.jpg
    d1c0cca4c2f694f5a3764b341575399f.jpg
    alessandra-ambrosio-brings-a-sense-of-calm-and-serenity-for-omega-watches-seamas.jpg
    1994: Timothy Dalton announces his departure from the role of James Bond.
    2011: Angela Scoular dies at age 65--London, England. (Born 8 November 1945--Maide Vale, London, England.)
    2018: Dynamite's Casino Royale comic is published, print and digital.
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    Posts: 13,034
    April 12th

    1944: Society hostess Maud Russell writes about Fleming in her diary.
    New_33A_trans_NvBQzQNjv4Bq-1IirZjSqFVIx5mAd-Y3TI-K5yvoyD66VwYRQ3Ea8jo.jpg?imwidth=1240
    https://telegraph.co.uk/women/life/spies-affairs-james-bond-secret-diary-ian-flemings-wartime-mistress/

    Wednesday 12 April, 1944

    I. dined. Still we don’t mention Muriel. He’s just back from Scotland and looks better. I am seeing about his rations. Found Muriel used to. He was in a state and I saw he wouldn’t feel like bothering about any mortal thing connected with himself. So I said nothing but took round marmalade, sugar, butter etc. of my own and said I would look after him till he wanted someone else to.
    1963: From Russia With Love pretitle sequence filmed at Pinewood's own main administration block.
    [Some refilming required due to the Bond imposter looking a bit too much like Connery Bond.]
    2012: Late by previous standards, Skyfall on-set photos come available.
    skyfall-james-bond-image.jpg
    skyfall-ralph-fiennes-image.jpg
    skyfall-movie-daniel-craig.jpg
    skyfall-daniel-craig.jpg
    skyfall-daniel-craig-image.jpg
    2013: Michael France dies at age 51--St. Pete Beach, Florida. (Born 4 January 1962-St. Petersburg, Florida.)
    2018: James Bond in A Convenient Lie (an opera!) begins its 12-14 April run--Centrepoint Theater, Ottawa, Canada.
    James Bond in A Convenient Lie
    ottawaseniors.com/events/event/james-bond-in-a-convenient-lie/
    A New Opera in English

    Presented by Savoy Society of Ottawa in collaboration with Malfi Productions
    Centrepointe Studio Theatre
    8 p.m. April 12 – April 14, 2018


    Lyrics by Kyle McDonald, Music by various composers

    Bond, James Bond. An Opera Unlike Any Other

    A new opera in pasticcio featuring the “hits of opera”, combined with an original storyline, James Bond: A Convenient Lie offers a never before seen kind of operatic spectacle blending the beautiful and demanding classical style of singing with the fast paced and exciting story of a contemporary film!

    Fast, Funny, and full of Fights

    Bond, with the help of Audrey, a French actress, and her tech genius brother, Pierre, must confront a bee-keeping eco-terrorist – who calls himself The Naturalist – and his henchmen, Salvatore the Sword, Tiny, and the sultry Miss Bliss, and stop his evil plan to make humanity suffer for its heedless consumption.


  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    edited April 2018 Posts: 13,034
    April 13th

    1937: Edward Fox is born--Chelsea, London, England.
    1942: Bill Conti is born--Providence, Rhode Island.
    1953: Ian Fleming's first Bond novel Casino Royale is published by Jonathan Cape.
    eb19076c6b53baa661205da04a609278.jpg
    22572837334_4.jpg
    oggito-casino-royale-kapaklari-gorucude-1021-00.jpg
    1967: Charles K. Feldman's Casino Royale has its world premiere at London's Odeon Leicester Square,
    two months ahead of Eon's You Only Live Twice.
    latest?cb=20151102004519
    Casino%2BRoyale%2BOriginal%2B1967%2BItalian%2Bfotobusta%2B%25231%2Bmovie%2Bposter%2BWoody%2BAllen%2B.jpg
    MV5BNmNkMWU3MDYtNTI5MC00YjlmLTlkN2YtNjNhZWRlMTM1NjdjXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyMTE2NzA0Ng@@._V1_SY1000_CR0,0,1471,1000_AL_.jpg
    MV5BMTI3NTBiYjQtMGUyMy00M2NkLWI3NDQtN2Y1NGVhZTMzYTEwXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyMTE2NzA0Ng@@._V1_SY1000_CR0,0,1453,1000_AL_.jpg
    MV5BMzBjNzc1YTEtNzNlZS00ODZkLThiYmUtMzJlMzc0Mzg0NmJhXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyMTE2NzA0Ng@@._V1_SY1000_CR0,0,1450,1000_AL_.jpg
    Casino%2BRoyale%2BOriginal%2B1967%2BItalian%2Bfotobusta%2B%25237%2Bmovie%2Bposter%2BWoody%2BAllen%2B.jpg
    MV5BYzU1NjIzOTctMWYzYi00NjcxLWFjY2QtOTcxNDUxZTNlMmVmXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyMTE2NzA0Ng@@._V1_SY1000_CR0,0,1463,1000_AL_.jpg
    2008: Guy Hamilton receives a Cinema Retro Award at Pinewood Studios' Goldfinger reunion. 2011: Sony announces its partnership with MGM continues--they will co-release BOND 23.
  • ThunderfingerThunderfinger Das Boot Hill
    Posts: 45,489
    Those are some cool lobby cards for CR.
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    Posts: 13,034
    I thought so, too--Italian.
  • ThunderfingerThunderfinger Das Boot Hill
    Posts: 45,489
    Italians have taste.
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    Posts: 13,034
    April 14th

    1912: Joie Chitwood is born--Denison, Texas. (He dies 3 January 1988 at age 75--Tampa, Florida.)
    1917: Richard Wasey Chopping is born--Colchester, Essex, England.
    (He dies 17 April 2008 at age 91--Colchester, Essex, England.) 1961: Robert Carlyle is born--Glasgow, Scotland.
    2048: The first Ian Fleming Bond novel Casino Royale will enter the public domain in the United States.
    (And each of the following 13 years another book will do that.)
  • ThunderfingerThunderfinger Das Boot Hill
    Posts: 45,489
    That book cover for The Fly is as brilliant as it is disgusting.
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    edited March 2019 Posts: 13,034
    April 15th

    1947: Lois Chiles is born--Houston, Texas.
    1960: Bond comic The Double Take (Risico) ends its run in The Daily Express. (Started 11 April 1960.)
    risico.png
    2017: Clifton James dies at age 96--Gladstone, Oregon. (Born 29 May 1920--Spokane, Washington.)
    2017: I came across this nice local piece on the passing of Clifton James and wanted to share it.
    For anyone who's served, his uniform tells an impressive story with the combat infantry badge and overseas service stripes (a total of 7, each indicating 6 months in a combat zone).
    He is awesome.
    PT.png
    http://pamplinmediagroup.com/pt/9-news/357972-237884-gladstone-hometown-hero-clifton-james-fondly-remembered
    00003577088859.jpg
    Gladstone hometown hero Clifton James
    fondly remembered

    Raymond Rendleman - Monday, May 08, 2017
    James, awarded the Silver Star for his bravery in combat in 1945, went on international fame as Louisiana Sheriff JW Pepper in two James Bond films
    Clifton James, Gladstone's hometown hero for his World War II bravery and extensive acting career spanning nearly six decades, died last month at the age of 96.

    00003577088886.jpg
    SUBMITTED PHOTO - In the photo circa 1980, Clifton James enjoys the Clackamas River with his family near High Rocks in Gladstone.

    James grew up in Gladstone, a town that he always loved. After studying drama at the University of Oregon, he lived in New York and Los Angeles for most of his life, but his sisters lived in Gladstone, so he would often visit them along with his nieces and nephews. He moved in with his daughter, Gladstone resident Mary James, for the final years of his life before succumbing to diabetes on April 15.
    00003577088908.jpg
    SUBMITTED PHOTO - Clifton James as Sheriff JW Pepper plays opposite Roger Moore as James Bond in 1974's 'The Man with the Golden Gun.'
    James' memorial service with full military honors is scheduled for 3 p.m. on Friday, Aug. 25, at Willamette National Cemetery, 11800 S.E. Mt Scott Blvd., Portland.

    "He almost always played that tough, Southern sheriff type," said James' sister Bev Anslow of his successful acting career that included more than 50 film credits.

    James made his Broadway stage debut as a construction foreman in "The Cave Dwellers" (1958). He was involved in a lot of off-Broadway shows, where he played various roles, including starring with Al Pacino in "American Buffalo" from 1980-81, which was turned into a 1997 film production starring Dustin Hoffman.
    James played a floor walker in the classic film "Cool Hand Luke" (1967). His most famous role was fast-talking Louisiana Sheriff JW Pepper in two James Bond films opposite Roger Moore: 1973's "Live and Let Die" and 1974's "The Man with the Golden Gun." Anslow said an elephant was supposed to knock James' stunt double, not James himself as JW Pepper, into a Southeast Asian river during a memorable scene in "The Man with the Golden Gun."

    Moore paid tribute to James on Twitter: "Terribly sad to hear Clifton James has left us. As JW Pepper he gave my first two Bond films a great, fun character."

    As a character actor, James was called upon to reprise variations on JW Pepper many times. Did he mind being type-cast?

    "It didn't bother him, and he rather liked it," Anslow said. "He was an actor's actor, and he would act whatever part was given to him and genuinely enjoy the work."
    James loved putting on a show throughout his long life. He was a well-known character around Gladstone, often seen with an unlit cigar in his mouth or taking out his false teeth to scare children.

    James' mother taught grade school in Woodland, Washington, and would organize local drama productions, including at the old Gladstone Grade School, which which was K-8 at that time. James went to school in Gladstone through the eighth grade and graduated from Milwaukie High School.

    SUBMITTED PHOTO - Staff Sgt. Clifton James of Gladstone served in the U.S. Army for 42 months during World War II. (Posted above)

    James was one of the last survivors of WWII's 41st Division, composed of National Guard units from Idaho, Montana, Oregon, North Dakota and Washington state. Serving in the U.S. Army for 42 months in the South Pacific during WWII, he was awarded the Silver Star for his bravery in combat on April 21, 1945.

    During the spring of '45, James served as a staff sergeant leading a combat patrol to determine the strength of enemy entrenchments on several ridges on the Philippines' Jolo Island, where previous U.S. attacks had been repulsed. Rather than endanger the whole patrol on April 21, he asked them to stay under cover and watch him try to crawl undetected toward an enemy's trench system. James came under "heavy automatic fire" once he crawled within 20 yards of the trench.

    "Then, with complete disregard for his life, [James] charged the position, killing its occupants," a now-declassified military document says. "Continuing on his mission, he crawled to a vantage point, where he could observe the activity of the enemy on the next ridge. With this valuable information gained, the forthcoming attack was a success."

    More information about James' military service and letters he sent home to family is available in copies of "Gladstone, Oregon: A History" by Gladstone historian Herbert K. Beals available at City Hall. James suffered various injuries during WWII, including the loss of his front teeth. He graduated from the University of Oregon with a drama degree in 1950.

    In 1951, James married Laurie Harper, who died in 2015. He is survived by six children, 14 grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.
    2PBRRWKQ3ZH7LKICQPD3ORYOIU.jpg

  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    Posts: 13,034
    April 16th

    1917: Barry Nelson (Haakon Robert Nielsen) is born--San Francisco, California.
    (He dies 7 April 2007 at age 89--Bucks County, Pennsylvania.)
    1918: Syd Cain is born--Grantham, Lincolnshire, England. (He dies 21 November 2011 at age 93--England.)
    Syd Cain obituary https://theguardian.com/film/2011/dec/01/syd-cain

    Production designer behind the deadly gadgets used by James Bond – and his foes
    Kim Newman - Thu 1 Dec 2011 13.29 EST - First published on Thu 1 Dec 2011 13.29 EST

    Syd-Cain-007.jpg?w=620&q=55&auto=format&usm=12&fit=max&s=5d0d4348354e9d3576c65b22e5b80a88
    Syd Cain at Pinewood Studios with the model used in the explosive climax to On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969). Photograph: 007magazine.com

    The production designer Syd Cain, who has died aged 93, was one of many behind-the-scenes professionals elevated to something like prominence by the worldwide interest in the James Bond films. An industry veteran who began work in British cinema as a draughtsman in 1947, contributing to the look of the gothic melodrama Uncle Silas, Cain is credited on a range of film and television projects, but remains best known for his work in various design capacities on the 007 series, from Dr No in 1962 to GoldenEye in 1995.

    Born in Grantham, Lincolnshire, Cain served in the armed forces in the second world war, surviving a plane crash and recovering from a broken back. Working at Denham Studios in Buckinghamshire in the 1940s and 50s, he moved up from uncredited draughtsman (on Adam and Evelyne, The Interrupted Journey, You Know What Sailors Are and Up to His Neck) to assistant art director (for The Gamma People, Fire Down Below, Interpol, How to Murder a Rich Uncle and The World of Suzie Wong). During this time, he developed a habit of slipping his name on to the screen among documents provided as props. In Carol Reed's Our Man in Havana (1959), where the blueprints for a vacuum cleaner are mistaken for rocket secrets, he is listed on the papers as the designer of the device. His first credit as art director was on The Road to Hong Kong (1962), the British-produced last gasp of the series of Bob Hope/Bing Crosby comedies. Cain also worked on the Hope vehicle Call Me Bwana (1963), best remembered because of an in-joke reference to it in From Russia With Love, where a sniper is concealed behind a billboard advertising the film.

    Having worked as a draughtsman on Hell Below Zero (1954) and assistant art director on The Cockleshell Heroes (1956), both produced by Albert R Broccoli, he was chosen by Broccoli to work on the Bond films. Though uncredited, he worked with the production designer Ken Adam – in whose shadow he modestly remained for much of his career – on Dr No, taking over as art director when Adam was not available for the immediate follow-up, From Russia With Love (1963). This was the film that introduced the character of Q (Desmond Llewelyn). Cain was responsible for the design of the gadgets issued to Sean Connery's Bond, notably the briefcase with concealed sniper rifle and tear-gas talcum tin. For the villains, Cain also provided Rosa Klebb's shoes, with poison-tipped blade, and the chess-themed decor of Blofeld's lair.

    Later, he was production designer for On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969). With a new Bond (George Lazenby) and a move away from the gadgets and vast sets of Connery and Adam's later work, Thunderball and Goldfinger, this tried to seem less fantastical – the only contraption issued to Bond is a photocopier. Cain was the supervising art director on Roger Moore's first Bond film, Live and Let Die (1973), then left the series, eventually returning as a storyboard artist for Pierce Brosnan's 007 debut, GoldenEye.

    Arguably more impressive than his Bond associations, Cain worked with a number of notable film-makers throughout the 1960s and 70s, as assistant art director for Stanley Kubrick (Lolita, 1962), art director for Ronald Neame (Mister Moses, 1965) and François Truffaut (Fahrenheit 451, 1966), executive art director for Richard Lester (A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, 1966) and production designer for Ken Russell (Billion Dollar Brain, 1967), Alfred Hitchcock (Frenzy, 1972) and Jack Gold (Aces High, 1976).

    Contributing to lasting British pop-culture artefacts, he was also art director on the Cliff Richard vehicle Summer Holiday (1963) and production designer of the revival series The New Avengers (1976). After the popular, action-oriented Alistair Maclean adventure Fear Is the Key (1973), Cain became associated with a brand of high adventure that grew out of the Bond films, working with Peter R Hunt (director of On Her Majesty's Secret Service) on the Moore movies Gold (1974) and Shout at the Devil (1976), both set in Africa, and with the producer Euan Lloyd on a series of boozy, British macho epics – The Wild Geese (1978), The Sea Wolves (1980) and Who Dares Wins (1982).

    Cain retired as a production designer after Tusks (1988), but contributed storyboards to a select run of high-profile films, including Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988). His final credit was on the Michael Caine boxing movie Shiner (2000). In retirement, he illustrated children's books, wrote an autobiography (Not Forgetting James Bond: The Autobiography of James Bond Production Designer Syd Cain, 2002) and was a well-liked guest at Bond-themed fan events.

    Cain was married twice. His five sons and three daughters survive him.

    • Sidney Cain, production designer, art director and illustrator, born 16 April 1918; died 21 November 2011
    1922: Kingsley William Amis is born--Clapham, London, England.
    (He dies 22 October 1995 at age 73--London, England.)
    1962: Ian Fleming's ninth James Bond novel The Spy Who Loved Me is published by Jonathan Cape.
    spy.jpg
    jonathan-cape-the-spy-who-loved-me-no-dw.jpg
    20440788895.jpg
    Watermarked promotional letter in early editions.
    the-spy-who-loved-me-promotional-letter.jpg
    Richard Chopping at work.
    e4dc1019cf00a9f870abfdc322d42298.jpg
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    Posts: 13,034
    April 17th

    1930: Rémy Julienne is born--Cepoy, Loiret, France.
    1959: Sean Bean is born--Sheffield, South Yorkshire, England.
    2008: Richard Wasey Chopping dies at age 91--Colchester, Essex, England.
    (Born 14 April 1917--Colchester, Essex, England.) 2017: Amazon Books purchases the rights to the Fleming Bond novels in the United States, to be published by Thomas & Mercer.
    amazon+banner.jpg
    Thomas-Mercer-James-Bond-1.jpg
    ian+fleming+james+bond+007+paperback+covers+Thomas+and++Mercer.jpg
  • RichardTheBruceRichardTheBruce I'm motivated by my Duty.
    Posts: 13,034
    April 18th

    1964: Screenwriter Ben Hecht dies of a heart attack while reading on a Saturday.
    That's after writing three serious Casino Royale script versions for Charles K. Feldman.
    telegraph_logo1.jpg
    Casino Royale: 60 years old
    https://telegraph.co.uk/culture/film/jamesbond/9988216/Casino-Royale-60-years-old.html

    Ian Fleming's James Bond novel Casino Royale was first published on April 13 1953 and there is an intriguing tale behind the original screenplay of the 007 film adaptation.

    casinoroyale_2534254b.jpg
    Daniel Craig starred in the film adaptation of Ian Fleming's 1963 novel Casino Royale.

    By Jeremy Duns - 8:00AM BST 13 Apr 2013

    Sixty years ago, the first 5000 copies of a novel by a new author were printed. The novel was Casino Royale by Ian Fleming, published April 13, 1953.

    When he took the part of Dr No in the first James Bond film, Joseph Wiseman had no inkling that the franchise would become such a success. As he admitted in 1992, he thought he’d signed up for "another Grade-B Charlie Chan mystery". How wrong. Last November, 50 years after the premiere of Dr No, the 23rd Bond film was released, directed by Oscar-winner Sam Mendes, co-written by Oscar-nominated John Logan and starring Daniel Craig as the bare-knuckled Bond he debuted in 2005’s [sic] Casino Royale.

    The Bond films have come a long way since 1962. The likes of Mendes, Logan, Paul Haggis and Marc Forster signing up to be involved is worlds away from even a decade ago, when the series seemed to be heading into self-parody.

    Much of the creative renaissance of the past decade stems from the decision to return to the spirit of Fleming’s novels. Craig’s Casino Royale was an adaptation of Fleming’s first novel. The book merged the traditions of vintage British thrillers with the more realistic and brutal style of hardboiled American writers such as Dashiell Hammett.

    But Craig’s debut (below) was not the first attempt to film the novel, but the third. The first was a one-hour play performed live on American television in October 1954: Barry Nelson starred as crew-cut American agent "Jimmy Bond" out to defeat villain Le Chiffre, played by Peter Lorre, at baccarat to ensure he will be executed by Soviet agency Smersh for squandering their funds. Due to the format, this was a much-simplified version of Fleming’s novel, with little of its extravagance or excitement.


    The book features a wince-inducing scene in which Le Chiffre, desperate to discover where Bond has hidden the cheque for 40 million francs that he needs to save his life, ties Bond naked to a cane chair with its seat cut out and proceeds to torture him by repeatedly whacking his testicles with a carpet-beater. This could clearly not be shown on television, so instead Bond was placed in a bath, his shoes removed, and viewers watched him howl with pain as, off-screen, Le Chiffre’s men attacked his toenails with pliers.

    The second attempt to film Casino Royale was altogether different. Also in 1954, Gregory Ratoff bought a six-month film option on the novel, and the following year bought the rights outright. An extravagant bear of a man who had fled Russia at the time of the Bolshevik Revolution, Ratoff was a well-known actor, producer and director – he had directed Ingrid Bergman's first Hollywood film, Intermezzo, in 1939. He was also a close friend of Charles K. Feldman, the playboy producer and super-agent.

    casino-royale_2447029c.jpg
    In January 1956, the New York Times announced that Ratoff had set up a production company with actor-turned-agent Michael Garrison, and planned to film Casino Royale that summer in England, Estoril and San Remo, with Twentieth Century-Fox slated to release it. The article mentioned that Fleming himself had written an adaptation of the novel, but that Ratoff was instead negotiating with a "noted scenarist" to write a new script.

    Ratoff died in December 1960, and his widow sold the film rights to Casino Royale to Charles Feldman. The long-dormant project soon became a potential goldmine. In March 1961, Life magazine listed From Russia, With Love as one of John F Kennedy’s 10 favourite books, and the Bond novels rapidly became best-sellers in the United States. Three months later, one of Feldman’s former employees at Famous Artists, Albert "Cubby" Broccoli, formed EON Productions with Canadian producer Harry Saltzman after buying the rights to the rest of Fleming’s novels.


    In response to the growing popularity of Bond, Feldman turned to Ben Hecht (below) to write a script for Casino Royale. Known as "the Shakespeare of Hollywood", Hecht was a novelist, poet and playwright who had written or co-written several classic scripts, including The Front Page, based on a play he had co-written; Underworld, for which he won the first best screenplay Oscar in 1927; the original Scarface; and Hitchcock’s Spellbound and Notorious. Hecht also worked uncredited on dozens of other screenplays, including Gone With The Wind, Foreign Correspondent and a few other Hitchcock films.

    bond-hecht_1835189c.jpg
    The fact that Ben Hecht contributed to the script of Casino Royale has been known for decades, and is mentioned in passing in many books. But perhaps because the film Feldman eventually released in 1967 was a near-incoherent spoof, nobody has followed up to find out precisely what his contribution entailed. My interest was piqued when I came across an article in a May 1966 issue of Time, which mentioned that the screenplay of Casino Royale had started many years earlier "as a literal adaptation of the novel", and that Hecht had had "three bashes at it". I decided to go looking for it.

    To my amazement, I found that Hecht not only contributed to Casino Royale, but produced several complete drafts, and that much of the material survived. It was stored in folders with the rest of his papers in the Newberry Library in Chicago, where it had been sitting since 1979. And, outside of the people involved in trying to make the film, it seemed nobody had read it. Here was a lost chapter, not just in the world of the Bond films, but in cinema history: before the spoof, Ben Hecht adapted Ian Fleming’s first novel as a straight Bond adventure.

    The folders contain material from five screenplays, four of which are by Hecht. An early near-complete script from 1957 is a faithful adaptation of the novel in many ways but for one crucial element: James Bond isn’t in it. Instead of the suave but ruthless British agent, the hero is Lucky Fortunato, a rich, wisecracking American gangster who is an expert poker player. Screenwriter Lorenzo Semple Jr, who travelled around Europe with Gregory Ratoff, says he didn’t write it, but it seems likely Feldman sent this script to Hecht as a starting point to see what he could do with it.

    Of the remaining material, two of the scripts are missing title pages and so are undated and without a credit, while the other two are from 1964 and are clearly credited to Hecht. There are also snippets of notes, letters, and three pages of "notes for an outline" dated December 17 1963, which feature scenes in Baghdad, Algiers and Naples and culminate in a raid on a German castle. These pages may have been Hecht’s first stab at coming to grips with the novel.

    Of all the Bond books, Casino Royale was one of the more problematic to adapt for film. On the one hand, it’s one of Fleming's strongest novels (Raymond Chandler and Kingsley Amis both felt it his best): intense, almost feverishly so, and richer in characterisation and atmosphere than many of the others.

    But the novel is also short — practically a novella — with little physical action in it other than the infamous torture scene. Bond also falls in love with his fellow agent on the mission, Vesper Lynd, and even considers proposing marriage to her before he discovers she has been coerced into working for Smersh and has betrayed him. She kills herself, and the novel ends with Bond reporting to London savagely that "the bitch is dead". Although Hecht was tackling the novel 10 years after it had been published, these are all elements it seems hard to imagine in a film adaptation.

    But these drafts are a master-class in thriller-writing, from the man who arguably perfected the form with Notorious. Hecht made vice central to the plot, with Le Chiffre actively controlling a network of brothels and beautiful women who he is using to blackmail powerful people around the world. Just as the theme of Fleming’s Goldfinger is avarice and power, the theme of Hecht’s Casino Royale is sex and sin. It’s an idea that seems obvious in hindsight, and Hecht used it both to raise the stakes of Fleming’s plot and to deepen the story’s emotional resonance.

    This is visible in the surviving pages of two separate undated drafts. Judging from the plotlines and character names, they were written after the December 1963 notes, but before the three drafts from 1964. Hecht wrote to Feldman on January 13 1964 to say he had 110 pages of "our blissful Casino Royale" ready to be typed and sent to him, but that if he could wait three days he would be able to send him 130 pages of what he refers to as a first draft, which will bring it up to its conclusion. As there is no other material dating from January 1964 in his papers, it seems likely that these are excerpts from that time. Hecht also adds that he has "never had more fun writing a movie".

    Both draft fragments feature a British secret agent called James Bond who gambles against a Colonel Chiffre, aided by an American agent called Felix Leiter and a French agent called Rene Mathis. In both, Bond falls in love with Vesper Lynd, who betrays him and kills herself. Both drafts stick closely to the atmosphere of the novel, while adding several new plot elements and characters. These include Mila, one of Chiffre’s former brothel madams and a former lover of Bond’s. Surnamed alternatively Vigne and Brant, she is a classic femme fatale, trying to seduce Bond in her night gown. Bond turns her down — just.

    In one of the undated drafts, Chiffre escapes at the last moment and Bond returns to London following Vesper’s suicide, where M tells him to take a holiday in Jamaica. Bond says he would rather stick around in case M has any errands for him. This suggests Feldman may have been considering slotting the film into Broccoli and Saltzman’s series, as he didn’t have the rights to any other Bond novels. The James Bond in these pages is a deft blend of Fleming’s character and the film version as portrayed by Sean Connery. The second Bond film, From Russia With Love, premiered in England in late 1963, but the series had not yet solidified: perhaps as a result, there are no vodka martinis or "Bond. James Bond" lines.

    The 40 pages of the draft dated February 20 1964 elaborated on many of the scenes and ideas in these pages, but add an unusual gimmick. Bond is precisely the same character as he was in the other drafts: suave, laconic, ruthless and predatory. But he is not James Bond. Instead, he is an unnamed American agent called in by M who is given the name James Bond. M says that "since Bond’s death" MI6 has put several agents into operation using his name: "It not only perpetuates his memory, but confuses the opposition."

    After this scene this agent is indistinguishable from Bond, and doesn’t seem American at all. It may be that Feldman was also considering how to make the film with an actor other than Sean Connery. There are very few logical inconsistencies in Hecht's material – this gimmick sticks out like a sore thumb.

    The draft opens with a pre-titles sequence – itself a nod to the Connery films – in which Felix Leiter arrests senior United Nations diplomats and the beautiful prostitutes who have ensnared them in honey traps. Then we cut to M informing his new Bond about the villain he is sending him after. Instead of being a rather small-time agent on the run from Smersh, as he is in the novel, Chiffre is now the head of a massive operation being run by Spectre against the free world’s leaders and scientists, using brothels and honey traps to film them and then extort them for secrets. Bond is assigned to work with fellow MI6 agent Vesper Lynd and sent to Hamburg to check out one of Chiffre’s brothels.

    Hecht introduces more new characters in this draft, including Lili Wing, a beautiful but drug-addicted Eurasian madam who once had a fling with Bond, and her girlfriend, Georgie, who carries a black kitten on her shoulder.

    Many of the scenes are darkly comic, and some of the sexual antics are politically incorrect even for the Sixties, with references to politicians being attracted to children and a car chase through Hamburg’s red light district ending with Bond drenched in mud disguised as a lesbian wrestler.

    The most significant new character is Gita, Chiffre’s beautiful wife. She and much of this draft returned in the final two surviving sections of script, which are dated April 8 and April 14, 1964. The first has 84 pages, and covers most of the plot. The second is 49 pages long and is an addition to it, indicating which pages are to remain untouched from the draft of a week earlier. Taken together, they form a near-complete story. Taken with the rest of the documents, with gaps in one draft often being filled in by others, these 260 or so pages give a strong sense of what a completed final Hecht screenplay would have been like.

    The April 8 pages revert to Bond being the real thing. He flirts with Moneypenny, M gives him his mission, and he’s off: it reads just like an early Connery Bond film. The April 14 draft switches back to the counterfeit Bond idea, but adds to and improves the earlier draft in other ways. The first third of the story follows Bond and Vesper as they track down the incriminating rolls of film that Chiffre has collected for Spectre, which are being transported from a warehouse in Hamburg by a protected van.

    The Hamburg car chase culminates in Lili Wing being captured by Chiffre’s men and fed into the crusher of a rubbish truck, while Bond uses Gita Chiffre as a shield. She is shot by mistake by Chiffre’s henchmen. Bond commandeers the van and impersonates one of the eye-patched henchmen in the darkness. During a car chase in the Swiss Alps, the van goes over the cliff and explodes with the films in it, Bond escaping at the last moment.

    As a result of Bond ruining the extortion scheme, Chiffre loses half of his budget allocated to him by Spectre, and sets about trying to win it back. Then we relocate to northern France and the area around the fictional Royale. Vesper gives Bond instructions from M to accompany her to the casino there to finish Chiffre off for good. This is ingenious in several ways. In the book, Le Chiffre and Bond duel without ever having met each other. Now, Bond is directly responsible for his precarious situation and the reason he sets up the baccarat game, and we have a rematch.

    In addition, Madam Chiffre, with half her face destroyed by bullet wounds and speaking metallically through a tube inserted in her ripped out larynx, is a classic Bond villain, a sinister presence lurking in the shadows waiting to exact revenge on 007. In undated handwritten notes, Hecht wrote that a man torturing a naked Bond in this way on screen would seem to audiences like he was not only indulging in "a far-fetched and unmotivated type of cruelty", but also a "yelping pansy".

    The torture scene is faithful in spirit to the novel, but perhaps even more brutal, and contains many of the best lines of dialogue. Chiffre quietly continues to ask a naked Bond the location of the missing cheque while encouraging his wife to thrash him with the carpet beater. At one point he tells her to stop, adding: "M’sieur Bond may want to change his mind while he is still a m’sieur." Bond refuses, of course, and when asked about the check later, gives the memorable reply "Up your gizzard, you fat pimp." Chiffre also briefly waterboards Bond with whisky in an attempt to get him to talk.

    Just as it seems that Bond is destined to die he is rescued by Specter’s assassins, who let him go but scar his hand so they can identify him in any future operations, and then shoot Chiffre who has hidden in a cupboard. The "brothel Napoleon", as Bond calls him, dies with silk dresses and negligees draping over his corpse.

    Bond recovers in hospital, and proposes to Vesper. She accepts, but shortly after confesses she has been working for Spectre all along, then takes her life with cyanide. But just as it seems that the film will end with a grief-stricken and impotent Bond, a doctor prescribes him with testosterone, and a minor character, Georgie, returns and tries to seduce him. Bond is surprised and delighted to find that his body responds to her advances, and order is restored as he plants two solid kisses on her mouth and we fade out.

    All the pages in Hecht’s papers are gripping, but the material from April 1964 is phenomenal, and it’s easy to imagine it as the basis for a classic Bond adventure. Hecht’s treatment of the romance element is powerful and convincing, even with the throwaway ending, but there is also a distinctly adult feel to the story. It has all the excitement and glamour you would expect from a Bond film but is more suspenseful, and the violence is brutal rather than cartoonish.

    On Thursday April 16 1964, Hecht sent a letter to Feldman attaching an article from Time about Bond and saying he would write up a critique of their "current script" on Monday. He added some comments on Bond, including that he felt the character was cinema’s first "gentleman superman" in a long time, as opposed to Hammett and Chandler’s "roughneck supermen". But Monday never came: Hecht died of a heart attack at his home on Saturday April 18 while reading.


    At some point, Feldman went to Broccoli and Saltzman and tried to broker a deal to film Casino Royale in partnership with them, but he wanted too large a share and the talks broke down. It seems he also claimed that Goldfinger had plagiarized Casino Royale and threatened to sue – perhaps he felt that the scene in which gangster Mr Solo is crushed at a scrap yard was too reminiscent of Lili Wing’s death.

    Furious that he had not come to an agreement with Broccoli and Saltzman, Feldman approached Connery to see if he would be interested in jumping ship. Connery said he would for a million dollars, but this was too much for Feldman’s blood and he turned him down. He decided to take a new tack, signing an unknown Northern Irish actor, Terence Cooper, who he kept on salary for two years, and recruited Orson Welles, David Niven, Peter Sellers, Ursula Andress, Woody Allen and several others. A set report in Time in May 1966 revealed that after Hecht’s "three bashes" at the script, it had been completely rewritten by Billy Wilder, after which Joseph Heller, Terry Southern, Wolf Mankowitz and John Law had all taken their turn at it. Much of the film was improvised on the spot, and Woody Allen also worked on it.

    Very little of Hecht’s work made it to the screen apart from the idea of calling other agents James Bond to confuse the opposition, which grew into the main theme. Eventually released in 1967, it was a bloated and incoherent comedy that wasted the prodigious talent it had assembled, and the title Casino Royale was indelibly linked with a cinematic disaster rather than Fleming’s novel (below, some of the Bond novels he wrote). Finally, in 2004 EON gained the rights to the novel, and set about filming it with Daniel Craig.

    books_2373926c.jpg

    The big question raised by Hecht’s material is what would have happened if Feldman had managed to come to an agreement with EON, and Casino Royale had been made with Sean Connery in 1965 or 1966. Perhaps it would have divided the audience, as Goldfinger took Bond into superspy territory, and even a disfigured villainess might not have been enough for viewers so recently awestruck by the Aston Martin DB5’s ejector seat and Odd Job’s hat, especially if coupled with James Bond watching the woman he loves take her own life.

    Then again, perhaps it would have deepened Bond as a character and taken the series in a different direction. Casino Royale might even have been regarded as not just a classic Bond film, but as a classic thriller. We’ll never know, but Hecht’s surviving material offers a glimpse into a cinematic genius at work, and an alternate James Bond adventure as rich and thrilling as anything yet brought to the screen.

    Jeremy Duns is the author of spy novels. You can order his novels at TelegraphBookshop
Sign In or Register to comment.