You'd think witnessing how they make the movies might have cured me of my passion for them. On the contrary. When I saw how much trouble Brosnan had getting that Aston Martin moving in Monte Carlo — popping the clutch in the first few takes — it made me feel even more connected to the character. I realized I could drive a DB5 just as badly as 007! Besides, who better to help me understand my fixation than the very men responsible for it (although I never quite put it to the actors that way). ''It sends tingles down my spine when I think of it,'' Brosnan told me on the set of GoldenEye, confessing his own childhood Bond obsession. ''This character has been in my life for so long.... I was this green Irish lad — I was 10 — and I saw this naked lady covered in gold paint and this man who could kill with his hat. It was Goldfinger. That was the first movie I saw.'' Not surprisingly, the actor who came nearest to articulating the precise qualities I so admired in Bond was Sean Connery. I was interviewing him in 1995 about a thriller called Just Cause, but couldn't resist sneaking in a question about 007. ''Whatever Bond does, he has to appear to have a reasonable intelligence,'' Connery said, explaining his secret for playing the part so perfectly. ''He has to be graceful and move well. He has to be a dangerous person. He has to have a certain measure of charm. And he has to make it all look effortless.''
Not the easiest words to live up to. Sure, I've probably had one or two moments of reasonable intelligence, but dangerous? No, my middle name is actually Tuchman. And graceful? Oddjob probably has smoother moves on the dance floor. That's the downside of Bondaphilia. No matter what sort of shirt I wear or car I drive — or keep on a bookshelf — I'm never going to be as cool as 007. For all my efforts and aspirations, I have been a miserable failure at being James Bond in every aspect of my life. Except one.
I met my wife, Lenka, in the Bondish city of Prague on the set of a Bond wannabe called XXX(Vin Diesel is no George Lazenby). Her supermodel cheekbones and hypnotic emerald eyes made me assume she was a starlet, so naturally I asked to interview her. Turned out she was a Czech translator. I interviewed her anyway. On a walk across the Charles Bridge, she told me about growing up behind the Iron Curtain, how in school she was taught to call her teachers ''Comrade'' instead of ''Professor,'' and how her family would catch glimpses of life in the West by watching German TV broadcasts that drifted across the border. Her English was flawless, with a Slavic accent so sexy it would have Blofeld biting his knuckles. To me, she was a damsel straight out of one of Fleming's books, the sort of exotic European beauty Bond himself would fall for. In fact, I made the mistake of telling her exactly that — babbling on about how her life seemed to me so glamorous and intriguing, as if out of a Bond movie. She stopped and gave me a long appraising stare. ''So,'' she finally decided, ''you are deranged.''
We've been married nearly four years now, and while I can't say she completely understands my ongoing relationship with Bond, she does tolerate it. Sometimes, when the moment feels right, I'll even ask her to recite lines from the films — No, Mr. Bond, I expect you to die! — so I can hear the words in her intoxicating, spy-like voice. Usually she just rolls her eyes and calls me a trdylko (Czech for ''dork''). But every once in a while, when I'm very lucky, she smiles, leans forward, and whispers in my ear: ''Choose your next witticism carefully, Mr. Bond...''
You Might Also Like
- Movies Spotlight Roger Moore: The best James Bond? | Chris Nashawaty
- James Bond Special Coverage James Bond: 18 best death scenes | Christian Blauvelt
- Movie News Bond girl fashion | Adam Markovitz
- Photo Gallery 20 Bond villains you love to hate
