Here he is, hang gliding in a suit while smoking a cigar, because how else is a secret agent supposed to enjoy a cigar?
I was tempted to title this one “Names is for tombstones, baby,” which I’m sure Sir Roger would have liked, but… nah. Anyhow, next chance you get, gin up a vodka martini and pour one out for the man.
Ah, my first Bond (For Your Eyes Only). Seeing him casually stroll up and kick a guy’s car off a cliff was supremely bad-ass. And then I found out he had gone to space, and I fell in love with Moonraker as only a 10-year old can, missing all the innuendo but pew-pew laser guns! To me, his set of movies aged the worst but I’ll always look at them fondly.
My first Bond movie was A View to a Kill. An argument could be made that Moore’s Bond was the best because he– a secret agent– would handicap his efforts by announcing his presence to the world (Union Jack parachute in Spy, Union Jack on the inside lid of the escape sub in AVTAK, telling the cop he’s James Bond like the cop’s supposed to know who he is in AVTAK, telling the cops he’s in the British Secret Service in Live and Let Die) and still save the day.
“[G]in up a vodka martini” – how did I miss that the first time?