End of Bond as we know it

When truth is stranger than fiction, art cannot possibly hope to imitate life and reality bites like a dog getting its teeth into the juiciest limb a fleeing postman can offer, what we all need is a bit of escapism.

There’s not a lot of it about at the moment, let’s face it, which is why I have been reduced in recent weeks to watching folksy gardening shows on catch-up, the re-runs of NCIS that have Tony and Ziva in them and starting a Count of Monte Cristo-like countdown on the kitchen splashback to the start of 2019’s Strictly Come Dancing. And watching old James Bond films.

Some not that old, in fact, although it’s amazing how grey Pierce Brosnan has got since Die Another Day – I should talk – and how the craggy featured Daniel Craig is not now so much chiselled as sand-blasted.

No wonder he’s trying to slip in one last turn as the suave superspy before the new baby he and Rachel Weisz are expecting in real life arrives and he finds out what proper sleep deprivation is really all about.

The concept of James Bond is, of course, simultaneously timeless and completely outdated, which is why I for one am a bit surprised the series has got to No 25. Although now it may not go much further with the departure of director Danny Boyle.

Like a no-deal Brexit (according to Theresa May), it might not be the end of the world. Just the end of the world as we know it and, perhaps, time to lay this particular symbol of whatever he supposedly symbolises, to rest.

It’s life, James (Bond could never be Jim) but not as we know it in the evermorphing 21st Century, what with Time’s Up, #MeToo and the reported notion our devil-may-care undercover agent will, in future, have to seek “full consent” before he so much as points his Walther PPK at a likely femme fatale.

Now, the reason Mr Boyle has made full use of the ejector seat and put the Pussy Galore among the pigeons is apparently he objected to the insistence of the producers (and the current star) that the leading man should be killed off.

This is being described in press releases as “creative differences”, which I suppose could mirror nicely what is or is not happening around the Brexit negotiating table at the moment.

Quite apart from the goose and golden egg principle, however, there is also talk that not only would Bond become the spy in the sky but that, somehow, he might regenerate into something new, exciting and different.

Though obviously still absolutely recognisable as James Bond, thus propelling himself with all the thrust of a souped-up Aston Martin DB5 into a new era and a host of fresh branding opportunities.

Now, call me a naïve, sentimental fool but going back to my opening salvo on escapism, I obviously recognise the Bond oeuvre is not predicated upon depictions of realistic events and people.

But I’m with Mr Boyle on this. It’s all very well to have our hero doing the traditional “and in a single bound, he was free” act and escaping virtually unscathed from the world-dominating machinations of ludicrous villains in impossible situations but accepting the notion of Bond as a kind of Tardis-free Doctor Who, brandishing Q’s reimagining of a sonic screwdriver instead of an exploding pen? Nah…

Also, if Danny Boyle can’t swallow it, who can? This is, after all, the man who directed Trainspotting, featuring Ewan McGregor’s “fantasy” encounter with a less than immaculate Muirhouse toilet.

You would think if he can have us all gaping and waving our little union flags at the notion of the Queen and the aforementioned James Bond – let us not forget Boyle has previous on this – parachuting into the Olympic Stadium, he could cope with the suspension of disbelief required for a regenerated 007 for a new generation? Nah...

As for the true Bond aficionados, not a chance. So far, they can’t even cope with the idea of Idris Elba donning the bespoke tuxedo, let alone the notion that it might be time for Jane Bond.

Of course, with reference to who’s who, there’s a lot of comment on social media and the Twittersphere (don’t ask me, I still read the Radio Times) about Jodie Whittaker’s casting as the 13th and, if the purists among this fearsome fandom are to be followed, theoretically the last regenerated Doctor Who. If it doesn’t work out, maybe she should put her CV in for the Bond gig.

It would seem there is already a new young whippersnapper on the block who is just fair panting to take over the directorial reins. Me, I think he’s definitely the man for the job. With a name like Yann Demange, who could resist someone who sounds like a cross between a steely-eyed Bond villain and a complaint suffered by Blofeld’s cat?

James Bond is simultaneously timeless and outdated

Pictures: PA. Danny Boyle, left, is rumoured to have quit as director of the 25th Bond film after producers insisted he kill off the character (played most recently by Daniel Craig, right).