Time’s up, Mr Bond, there’s no place for a misogynistic dinosaur

The revolution in social attitudes means 007 is more out-dated than ever, writes Aidan Smith

When I was deemed old enough to go to the flicks without parental supervision, the first James Bond films were a few years old but still running as double-bills – one shilling and ninepence per pair – and at the end of the programme my pals and I would hide under the flea-pit’s seats out of range of the usherettes’ torches so we could thrill to the wham-bam all over again.

Did I see Ursula Andress emerge from the waves in Dr No twice in one Saturday afternoon or was it three times? Can’t remember. I certainly cracked the joke about her being “Ursula Undress” 50 times at least. But that wouldn’t happen now. For one thing, cinemas wouldn’t be so generous, and they’d have better checks in place to thwart stowaways. For another, Andress wouldn’t have to stand on the shore having been told the scene was all about conch shells and their intrinsic beauty when in fact the producers were after the most iconic bikini shot in movie history. And she certainly wouldn’t be obliged to swoon quite so speedily over an accent straight off the milk rounds of Edinburgh’s Fountainbridge.

The 25th outing for Bond is due next year and apparently there will be changes. Danny Boyle, the Oscar-winning director, insists this is inevitable in the era of #Metoo and #Timesup. “You write in real time,” explained Boyle who’s developing a script for the feature. “You acknowledge the legacy of the world [of Bond] … but you write in the modern world as well.”

How will he function in the modern world, this re-programmed Bond? Will we even recognise him from the previous 24 films when he was the oversexed undercover agent, overdoing the understatement? Will we still want him around?

Almost as soon as Harvey Weinstein’s dressing-gown fell open, and the first gruesome revelations of sexual coercion and assault in Hollywood spilled out, a debate was sparked about the future of Bond.

Of course it was; he’s the movie character who will be left most confused and compromised by the crackdown on harassment of women which must be the revelations’ inevitable consequence.

To put it in words he might understand: “Come, come, Mr Bond, an attractive woman should be allowed to move around the workplace unmolested, even if that workplace is a sun-kissed beach. The wearing of a bikini on a sunkissed beach is appropriate for the location and should not be regarded as a come-on.”

If you want to remind yourself of how randy, out of control and downright misogynistic Bond has been since his big-screen debut in 1962, check out the internet. Youtube whizzes have helpfully spliced together clips and I’m not talking about Double-o-seven’s double entendres. He slaps a woman hard on the backside to remove her while he gets down to some “man talk”. He bursts in on a woman taking a bath and when she protests, asking that at least he hands her something to wear, shoes are offered. “There’s something I must get off your chest,” he says to another victim, removing the top half of her bikini to strangle her. In another scene, he forces himself onto Pussy Galore.

The effect is like watching Benny Hill, an X-rated version, for Bond always catches the girls he pursues.