007. The James Bond of the Nineties. Pierce Brosnan has single-handedly rescued the role from eternal Sean Connery nostalgia. His latest Bond flick, The World Is Not Enough, opened here on Friday. "One thing I know is that I won't become an old pot-bellied slouch yet," explains our hero, who does his own stunts and can still lift an eyebrow. What a man.
James Bond. Gorgeous cad. Mannequin in Debenhams complete with casually undone bowtie. Lara Croft's lover.
"Hopefully I play the part in a convincing manner," intones Mr Debonair. Our hero, however, had to undergo a make-over before he was allowed near a Martini glass. Early snaps reveal a chubby-chopped, snaggle-toothed ugly with an urgent need for a barber. Seventies pals described him as "a funny looking chap, rather overweight, with greased back hair".
Born in Co Meath, the Bondlet started out as an altar boy. He moved to London at 12. He worked as a mini cab driver, as you do, before plying his trade in the West End and starring in that hilariously titled detective series, Remington Steele.
After the wet and appalling Timothy Dalton, Brosnan, 46, is 007 incarnate. So the chauvinist dinosaur of a role lumbers into the millennium. The latest features Brosnan in a caviar factory on the Caspian Sea and atop the roof of the Millennium Dome. Well, naturally.
Unfortunately for our purposes, Brosnan is neither a womaniser nor a serial spouse. In 1981, he married Cassandra Harris, aptly a former Bond girl, and stayed madly in love until she died a decade later. "No one could ever replace Cassie," he says. He is father to four, including his latest son, one Dylan Thomas, by long-term girlfriend, journalist Keely Shaye-Smith.
Pierce needs to wear a sporran or sport a scandalous love life if he is to stay in Hello!. An affair with Ginger Spice or a mayoral run-in would also suffice. Loosen up, Pierce, lovey, and give us all something to laugh about. Shaken, not stirred, etc.