When the Bond grows vulnerable

Daniel Craig missed out on an Oscar nomination this year. The James Bond actor is among the few who challenged the spy’s monolithic image and showed his sensitive side. Swaroop Kodur remembers 007 stars who broke the mould

The idea of James Bond conjures up a rather well-defined image. 

A tall, white straight male in his mid to late 30s (or older, but definitely not younger) clad in a crisply tailored suit, sporting a classic hairstyle and a demeanour that is equal parts casual, smug and charming.

An over-pronounced sense of pride in his virility, too, is part of the ‘look’, if you will, even if it often interferes with work and makes little logical sense given the high-stakes operations he takes on.

The same image, though, etches itself on our psyche to the extent that we fail or refrain from dissociating the actor playing Bond from that iconic role.

Sean Connery has played countless ‘non-007’ roles in his career and Daniel Craig is revered by many as a solid talent in drama. Timothy Dalton has played Heathcliff in the epic ‘Wuthering Heights’ (1970) and Pierce Brosnan has crooned many ABBA numbers in the mushy musical movie series ‘Mamma Mia!’.

But one simple sight or remembrance of these actors somehow leads us straight to that martini-drinking, Aston Martin-revving man who smoulders as much as he spies and flirts way more than he investigates.

Yet, some of the James Bond stars have made strong attempts to break that mould. In the vast combined repertoire of the six actors who have taken on the role thus far, only a handful of film titles stand tall as acts of defiance against the aforementioned stereotype.

But each of those acts is well worth consideration because it isn’t common to see a vulnerable Roger Moore break down in tears, or find Sean Connery screaming for help during a psychological breakdown. In other words, it isn’t every day that we encounter these canonical figures essaying recognisable, deeply introspective parts.

The Moore’s last try

Take the 1970 film, ‘The Man Who Haunted Himself’, for instance. The Basil Dearden picture presents Roger Moore in arguably his most challenging role in which he plays a successful marine engineer named Harold Pelham whose idyllic, upscale London life turns bizarre and terrifying after a car accident.

Pelham recovers from the accident seemingly without any damage, but soon starts to feel that a doppelgänger of his is on the loose, taking his place in social situations without his knowledge. The original Pelham is perplexed at first but when he realises that no one around him is believing in his theory of a double, his sanity crumbles.

The suave, polished figure of Harold Pelham increasingly becomes paranoid as he slips down and down in his mind’s rabbit hole, revealing himself as a tortured man waging a huge psychological battle. Moore, who delivers a nuanced and critically acclaimed performance, would go on to be Bond in his very next outing and never look back. He also never really got another chance to test himself the same way.

Shedding vanity

The actor he took over from, Sean Connery, takes things up a few notches in his performance as Detective-Sergeant Johnson in Sidney Lumet’s ‘The Offence’ (1973).

Johnson is worn out from years of grim police work involving murders, kidnaps, sexual assaults and violence of every kind. His icy stares and brooding voice suggest that he has checked out long ago from feeling his real self, and his primal anger towards humanity is reflected in how he is always only a moment away from exploding. 

A case of a young girl’s abduction (and potential rape and murder) comes his way to finally take him over the edge and cause an emotional, moral meltdown so turbulent that he could never recover from it. Connery exudes tremendous control over his performance, portraying Johnson as a wounded, unstable man without any vanity. ‘The Offence’ is easily his boldest and most haunting acting display, which interestingly came right after he hung up his 007 holster in 1971 (before returning for one unofficial film in 1983).

Throwing caution to the wind

If Lumet’s film is a study of a kind of suppressed rage, Luca Guadagnino’s period drama ‘Queer’ (2024) comes as an exploration of unrequited desire. 

Daniel Craig, possibly the most accomplished performer of the MI6 lot, plays William Lee, a middle-aged queer man who wanders the streets of Mexico City in the 1950s looking for love, sex and validation. Lee is poetic, nimble and handsome yet also curiously so insecure that he cannot do without alcohol (and drugs, periodically) for even a second. Imagine a man such as this, who quivers, yearns and feels happy-sad at all times, meeting a much younger muse who can neither be a lover, nor a friend. 

‘Queer’ is a hypnotic study of loneliness and Daniel Craig is its marvellous tool. His Lee is heartfelt and measured yet executed with a lot of abandon. The ‘Casino Royale’ and ‘No Time To Die’ star is credited with imbuing the predictable James Bond character with depth and subtlety but as William Lee, he only pushes himself further and gloriously submits to the role. And he is a sight to behold here.