Peter Bart Editor-At-LargeHe felt angry. He felt exploited. He was no fan of James Bond.Amidst all the tributes to Sean Connery published this week, none of them captured the fiercely intense character I encountered in November 1966.
Having completed his fourth Bond, Thunderball, Connery had abruptly changed course by playing a hard-drinking failed poet in a small movie appropriately titled A Fine Madness.
Most important, he was determined to sign off on the Bond franchise and prepare to direct his first play.He had set up our meeting through a producer, who was a mutual friend, but, sitting down, he announced: “This is not an interview.“ I told him that was fine by me, but I was not sure exactly what “it” was then. “A conversation,” he.
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