I have not yet seen the new James Bond, No Time To Die, but I will. I am inexorably drawn to Bond and I have seen every one of the films in the franchise. When I was a child, Boxing Day and Bank Holidays were James Bond days. They always put a classic one on the telly and my Dad was a great fan. So it was a holiday staple.
Roger Moore was my favourite (don’t @ me). I liked the slight campness, the raised eyebrow of course, the safari suits, the permanently bemused air. I also fancied him more than Sean Connery (again, don’t @ me) because I could imagine having a better time in bed with Moore’s Bond. Connery might be the tough guy, but Moore would be the one that made you laugh and come back for more.
I even liked the Bond girls (please, I’m serious about not @-ing me). I know I am not supposed to now, as a feminist, but I remember thinking they were cool as hell. They drove and fought and dressed as well as him. They were glamourous and exciting and often strong. I do understand the undertones of male entitlement, implied sexual assault and gender imbalance. But to my untrained eye, I rather liked the idea that casual sex could be enjoyed by both parties. The best Bond girls did as they pleased, just like Bond, and I took that in.
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