Roger Moore

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by Roger Moore


  WHAT IF …?

  Love Letters (1996)

  Having not appeared in front of audience on a theatre stage for approaching five decades, I appeared on the Clive Anderson All Talk chat show in 1996 and mentioned that an offer had been made for me to make a return to the theatre with a new rendition of A.R. Gurney’s Love Letters, co-starring my old friend Joan Collins.

  The producers didn’t get it together, however, until four years later, and I was off doing other things. Typical. Joan, meanwhile, hit it off with tour manager Percy Gibson, and they married in 2002. I was there at the wedding!

  The French have it right when they kiss on the cheeks – far more healthy. I should explain this is not to be referred to as ‘French kissing’. That’s quite different and we won’t go there.

  With all these bits of the body beginning to show signs of wear, that leads me to the subject of my proctologist – no, I jest. It’s not all doom and gloom and there are actually some upsides to ageing and some may just prove useful:

  • You perspire less. It’s something to do with the sweat glands shrinking. I can’t possibly comment on other glands shrinking, however.

  • Your teeth are less sensitive. That’s not because you have more implants than teeth; no, over time you accumulate more dentin (hard tissue) between the outer enamel of a tooth and its central nerve. So you can enjoy more ice cream, for instance, without shooting pains firing all across your mouth.

  No comment.

  • You have less taste. Not sartorially, though I do wonder at some people, but because you lose some of your taste buds. So basically, you’re quite happy to eat anything and think it tastes OK. You’ll please even the most mediocre of cooks.

  • You are happier. This is true. I certainly became more content with the passing of time. Once you pass the nadir of middle age, things start looking up and you have time to do the things you want to now you’re not rushing around trying to support a family.

  • You can get into cinemas, theatres, galleries and other places cheaper.

  • You’ll also find people willing to give up their seats for you, though I’ve yet to see if that works in the theatre or at a concert where I’d like a better position.

  • If you forget something, or someone’s name, you can explain it away as a ‘senior moment’ and you’ll discover people are very forgiving.

  • Meanwhile, and not a lot of people know this (who was it who said that?), our feet become longer and wider with age. It’s something to do with tendons and ligaments losing elasticity, which in turn allows the toes to spread out and the arch of the foot to flatten. Some people can gain as much as one shoe size every ten years – and you know what they say about big feet!

  Being older and hopefully a little wiser also means you’re more confident in making decisions, and you feel more qualified to make your thoughts known. That isn’t to say people will choose to listen. It’s also interesting that your relationship with your children changes too. We’ve all been there through the teenage years I’m sure, when nothing you say or do is fair and in fact you probably embarrass your children more than anything else.

  ‘Please don’t meet me outside the school.’

  ‘No, I’d rather walk, thanks.’

  ‘Oh, do you have to come with me?’

  These are all familiar statements. But as you grow older so do your children, and when they in turn have their own offspring it’s reassuring to know they suddenly ‘get it’ – they understand you and perhaps even appreciate you more. In short, your relationship changes and you become closer. In fact you become friends.

  My children, Christian, Deborah and Geoffrey, drawn by me in 1977.

  I also believe that with great wisdom comes greater humility. You’re not afraid to admit when you’re wrong, or to stop for a moment, take a breath and see things from someone else’s point of view. You also learn not to judge or criticize so much. We all make mistakes and sometimes you need to allow others the chance to make their own mistakes and not judge them – you know they’ll learn from their errors.

  It’s also true that possessions and status symbols become less important. In fact you want less. People say they don’t know what to buy an older person for a birthday or at Christmas, as they pretty much already have everything they need. So this is when the old adage, ‘it’s the thought that counts’, becomes far more apt. I’d rather have the paperback of a great book or a recommended DVD that I know I can watch and enjoy, than an expensive trinket.

  In fact, when I think about it, although I know we all grumble about getting older, you are indeed thankful for being able to grow old. Not everyone does and many die before their time. With age comes gratitude and the knowledge that with every passing year we are blessed.

  The lovely Laura Tarrant in our Swisscom advertisement.

  THE WORLD OF WORK

  The old adage of ‘an old actor never retires, the phone just stops ringing’, is absolutely true – particularly when, as in my case, you put the wrong SIM card in your mobile. Gone are the days when I can leap around shooting at villains bent on world domination, but I am fortunate in that my agent calls from time to time with the offer of a job that sounds a bit more gentle by comparison. I won’t talk about the work I turn down, or the frustrating situation of having agreed to the filming dates and location for a commercial only to eventually hear that the ‘client’ has decided they don’t want you after all. They call it ‘going in another direction’. In truth they’ve realized they’d rather go with one of the other twelve people the advertising agency suggested in the first place. Maybe they were cheaper? Maybe they were prettier?

  In early 2015, I received a very pleasant phone call from my acting agent, Jean Diamond. She said Swisscom, the Swiss telecoms company, wondered if I’d be interested in appearing in their next commercial campaign, which was filming in Zurich.

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ said I.

  The whole thing moved quickly and before I knew it the shooting schedule was emailed across.

  As Switzerland is largely German, Italian, French and English in its make-up, a lot of commercials are run in those different languages, and after I accepted the job I was asked if I could say a few lines in each different language. My Italian is fairly reasonable, I can get away with a sentence or two in French and, although rusty, I can string a few German words together convincingly.

  Of course, that’s when they got carried away and decided I should film four versions in four languages. They helpfully produced ‘idiot boards’ so I could glance at the lines if I got stuck!

  A still from the Swisscom ad. Still raising eyebrows after all these years.

  It was actually quite a witty advert, where a sales lady in the telecom store offers a special smartphone combination deal to me, but I say I don’t want any special treatment and would like to be treated like any other normal customer, pointing at the lady at the counter with her back to me as an example. When the lady turns around she acts offended to be called ‘normal’ – she is actually a very famous Swiss model and actress, Melanie Winiger.

  Anyhow, the ad runs to thirty seconds; the blooper reel is feature length!

  WHAT IF …?

  Shaka Zulu (1997)

  In the mid 1980s a South African mini-series was made based on the book by Joshua Sinclair about Shaka, king of the Zulu nation from 1816 to 1828, and his dealings with the British who ruled the Empire. The writer began pulling together a movie and I met with him and the director to discuss a role. Alas the financing never came together. No money, no Moore.

  Between 2012 and 2016 I toured the UK each autumn, boring the pants off audiences in theatres with my ‘Evening With ...’ show. One of the joys of walking on to a stage and facing a live audience, for an actor at least, is feeling an instant connection. You don’t get that on films or TV. It was also nice to see crowds old enough to still remember me. When it comes to audience questions, I honestly never know what might come my way. Sometimes they are quite hilari
ous, from, ‘Did you get to shag all the Bond girls?’ to a chap in Merseyside complimenting me on just about everything, only to add, ‘I look at you now, admiringly. Do you know what I think when I see you immaculately turned out, knowing you can still pull the women, looking great and with a twinkle in your eye? ... Yer bastard!’

  Well, you can’t help but fall about laughing.

  I would talk a little about UNICEF, really just scratching the surface and asking people to think about buying their greetings cards through the organization, and perhaps make a small donation in the buckets we had in the lobbies. I’ve always been overwhelmed and touched by their generosity. Not just on the night either, as I often received letters or tweets from people afterwards saying they had set up a regular contribution to UNICEF because of the little insight I had given them at their local theatre, which made them want to go away and find out more, and help more.

  My assistant, Gareth, stands outside the theatre, scene of another ‘Evening with ...’.

  Old age is like everything else. To make a success of it, you’ve got to start young.

  THEODORE ROOSEVELT

  Prior to a show in Liverpool, a man had written to me saying that his elderly mother (mind you, she was probably younger than me!) had admired me all of her life. Sadly, she had early onset dementia and, worse still, had recently been diagnosed with terminal cancer and given just a short time to live. He said it would mean so much if I would briefly meet his mother. Of course, I agreed. Kristina told me that the lady’s face beamed with a massive smile as soon as she saw me.

  WHAT IF …?

  The Chemical Wedding (1999-2002)

  Conceived as the brainchild of Iron Maiden front man Bruce Dickinson, The Chemical Wedding was to be Terry Jones’ (of Monty Python) new company Messiah Pictures’ first production. Roger Daltrey and Malcolm McDowell were said to be heading the cast and I was also rumoured to be appearing in the film. It eventually came to fruition in 2008 with none of us rumoured people in it; in fact I was never approached.

  Her son wrote to me afterwards, saying that although his mother sometimes struggled to remember who even he was, every time she looked at the photograph of us together she regaled him with the story of meeting me that night. Almost a year later, I received another letter to tell me the old lady had passed away, but that I was to be in no doubt that the brief meeting we had had boosted her life by several months. It was terribly moving and just goes to prove how taking a minute or two, showing a little kindness that you don’t think of as being much at the time, can in fact have a major impact. It makes it all worthwhile.

  Although the evenings were loosely structured, and we went from A to B, I would occasionally head off on tangents – particularly if I forgot what the heck I was waffling on about. But being the ever-smooth old actor, I covered it beautifully by telling a couple of jokes.

  In fact, when I’m sizing up the audience, I open on the old Yiddish Theatre story ...

  The curtain is late going up and, after a little commotion, the manager appears on the stage dressed in a dirty old dinner jacket that has seen far better days.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he calls out. ‘I’m afraid there will be no show tonight. I have just been in the leading lady’s dressing room, and our star of the show is lying there – dead.’

  A man calls out from the circle, ‘Give her an enema!’

  ‘Sir!’ the manager goes on. ‘You are not hearing me correctly! Our leading lady is dead.’

  ‘Then give her an enema!’

  ‘But, sir, what good would that do, as she is dead?’

  ‘Well, it certainly can’t harm!’ came the response.

  If I get a giggle, I carry on!

  Another tactic, when I need to buy a bit of time or forget a name, is when I tell this story:

  Two blokes were in a pub chatting, and the first one says, ‘I’ve been having a bit of trouble with my ... y’know, with remembering things.’

  ‘Oh, have you seen a doctor?’ his friend asks.

  ‘Seen a doctor about what?’

  ‘Your memory, have you seen a doctor?’

  ‘Oh yes.’

  ‘Well, what did he say?’ asks his mate.

  ‘Say about what?’

  ‘Your memory! Did he give you anything?’

  ‘Yes, he gave me some pills.’

  ‘What are they called?’ his concerned friend enquires.

  ‘Well, erm, oh hang on a minute ... what’s the name of that little white and yellow flower that appears in the grass in summer?’

  ‘Daisy?’ he asks.

  ‘Yes, that’s it.’ With that he looks over his shoulder and calls to his wife, ‘Daisy, what’s the name of those pills the doctor gave me?’

  It usually gets a laugh and gets me back on track. You should try it!

  On stage, we never quite know where our chats will take us but the audiences seem to enjoy it.

  The most popular part of the evenings – well, who am I trying to kid? It’s all popular! – is actually when I get on to 007. People never tire of hearing tales of Jimmy Bond. I’m often asked if I ever get fed up of it but to be so would be terribly ungrateful. I’m old enough and wise enough to appreciate the good fortune Bond brought me, and will never forget it.

  WHAT IF …?

  Victor (2003–2004)

  In August 2003 the breaking news was that I was poised to join the cast of Victor (in the role of Captain Walton), which was based on a play written by Alistair Faulkner, all about the least-featured part of Mary Shelley’s book, Dr Frankenstein’s stay at Norsay island. They even announced that the premiere of the movie, directed by Scott Mabutt, was set for 31 October 2003. Financing matters then saw it delayed, but the producers said the good news was that I was stepping in to co-produce. Really?

  I won’t lie and say that driving around the country and unpacking bags for one night only at hotels isn’t tiring. It is. Especially when you have an Australian driver like we do, with a satnav last updated in 1972. However, it’s a wonderful way to see parts of the country that we’ve not enjoyed previously and also to find good pubs en route for delicious lunches.

  It was while we were staying at Bray in Berkshire that we arranged a night out at the cinema. We rarely go to the cinema nowadays, preferring instead to watch new films on DVD and particularly at awards time from BAFTA and the American Academy. One exception was when SPECTRE was released. We couldn’t make the premiere as we were on tour in Liverpool, but a few days later it hit the cinemas and that coincided with a rare day off. Gareth arranged tickets at the swanky new Everyman Cinema in nearby Gerrards Cross. Of course, Kristina and I got OAP rates – after all, there’s no point throwing money around.

  I can never resist a Bond movie at the cinema.

  As ever the traffic was a nightmare and we arrived just as the commercials started and slipped into our back-row seats quietly. Then the manager came in ahead of the film to welcome everyone and to remind them that there was waiter service for drinks and snacks and should the temperature need adjusting to shout out. He then said something I didn’t quite hear and, rather loudly in the hushed auditorium, I asked Kristina, ‘What was that?’

  Did I mention that I keep everything? Even the best James Bond likes a concession ...

  ‘He said, “And now please enjoy SPECTRE with the second best James Bond.”’

  ‘Well, who’s the first?’ I asked, just as the lights went down.

  ‘You of course, my darling,’ Kristina replied. ‘You are the best James Bond!’

  ‘Oh yes!’ I chuckled.

  Our near neighbours obviously hadn’t twigged it was me in the darkness, and must have thought it a very odd conversation going on between an aged man and his younger Swedish wife.

  ON FINAL REFLECTION

  Still hanging on after all these years has made me realize and appreciate all the good luck, the fun, great fortune and the major milestones I’ve been a part of, both professionally and personally. I’m very g
rateful and have realized that if we look beyond the stereotypes, ageing, just like the rest of life, is a mixture of gains and losses. Though perhaps the greatest sadness in getting older means outliving loved ones, friends and colleagues. It’s not easy to see your mates leave for the great cutting room in the sky, though admittedly I’m in no rush to join them, nor do I want to depress myself (or you) by listing all their names. Put it this way, watching the BAFTAs and the Academy Awards ceremonies becomes very sobering when they run the tape of ‘those who have left us’ each year. In fact, I’m in full agreement with Woody Allen when he said, ‘Death – I’m strongly against it.’

  Does mortality worry me? Yes, in all honesty, it does, as I think it does everyone. It’s the unknown really, that’s the worry. I’d certainly like to think that when my time comes I’ll face it with all the dignity a coward can muster – and maybe with one last quick witticism.

  When Bob Hope lay on his deathbed, aged 100, his wife Dolores raised the question of where he would like to be buried and in his last words, Bob replied: ‘Surprise me.’

  Though perhaps Alfred Hitchcock summed it up best, with his last words: ‘One never knows the ending. One has to die to know exactly what happens after death, although Catholics have their hopes.’

  I have my hopes too!

  À bientôt ...

  AFTERWORD

  I could not finish without saying something about a cause that is very close to my heart. I have been associated with UNICEF for over twenty-five years and in my humble opinion this wonderful organization has done so much to change the world, by improving the life of children.

 

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