Thank heavens, then, for Roger Moore, valiantly not taking things too seriously in Bond On Bond, in which the third 007 waxes droll on not just his own adventures but the entire canon, from his sun-kissed retirement in Monte Carlo. As light and fizzy as a bottle of Bollinger RD ’75, he mixes insight (remember the fish Bond drops from the window of his submersible Lotus Esprit? Roger’s idea) with endlessly quotable commentary. “I’m often asked, ‘Who is the best Bond?’” he reports, eyebrow surely hovering as he writes. “‘Apart from myself?’ I modestly enquire.” He plumps safely for Connery. Especially when it comes to his own middle kingdom of missions, he opens up Bond with a wit and whimsy the plump, pricey Archive couldn’t hope to match. Remember Hervé Villechaize, who played Nick Nack? He worked his way through 45 prostitutes while shooting in Hong Kong. Now there was The Man With The Golden Gun.
Reviewed by Ian Nathan