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§¨©ª “James Bond stood in the shadows, his dinner jacket still elegant despite the rain. Gigantic spotlights illuminated the entrance and glinted off the Aston Martin DBS parked alongside the red carpet. 007 glanced at the car and then at the double doors into The Light complex. There was no hiding place. No way of entering the building without first negotiating the spotlights. It was time to make his move. Bond cleared his throat, adjusted his black bow tie, and shot the cuffs of his tailored shirt. And then stepped onto the red carpet and into the…” §¨©ª
Okay, so let’s be honest about this. That wasn’t James Bond standing in the rain in his dinner jacket, it was me. The name’s Campbell. Colin Campbell. A Yorkshire writer attending the Charity Premiere of the latest Bond film, Casino Royale in Leeds on Wednesday 15th November 2006. But what man can wear a dinner jacket and not feel a bit like 007? And the truth is, James Bond and I go back a long way. To the very beginning of my crime writing career, and beyond. Forget about seeing Goldfinger at the cinema as a 9yr-old and being hooked on the world of James Bond 007. Forget about catching up on his first two adventures, Dr No, and From Russia With Love, as a double bill the following year. Everybody’s done that. The starting point may vary but the cinema-going public have been hooked ever since their first encounter. No. James Bond came into my life for real in the early 80s. §¨©ª
Long Tail On A Ghost is a chapter from Goldfinger, the novel. It is also the title of a short story that I entered into a James Bond competition. The author had to choose from a selection of Ian Fleming chapter headings and write a story about 007. I made my choice and created a fiction in longhand. Pencil, so I could correct any mistakes. I took the premise (previously used by John Pearson in his, James Bond – The Authorised Biography of 007) that Bond was a real person, and that the publicity surrounding Fleming’s novels and the subsequent films had made it almost impossible for him to continue in the field. Set in Nabwood Cemetery, Bradford, James Bond visits the grave of his creator (moved from Sevenhampton because of grave robbers) and bemoans the loss of his identity. Giving a false name to the old lady who runs the cemetery he struggles with the guilty knowledge that his celebrity has caused Felix Leiter’s death. While standing at the graveside a pair of vicious criminals break into the office and terrorise the registrar, forcing Bond to embrace his past and defeat the villains. When the old lady wants to know who has saved her he utters the immortal line, “The name’s Bond. James Bond.” Pretty good I thought at the time. Unfortunately the competition wasn’t sanctioned and copyright meant none of the stories could be published. Fair enough, if a little disappointing, but the exercise had sown the seeds and a writer was born. Meanwhile I was still embroiled in my day job as a constable in the West Yorkshire Police. A position that would open the doors into James Bond’s world, and introduce me to the man himself. §¨©ª
11th September 1984. The Amberley Chalk Pit Museum and Mine. Location for Roger Moore’s final outing as 007, A View To A Kill. It is no secret that location managers for film and television have a close working relationship with the police and that knowledge provided an invitation to the set of my first Bond film. On an overcast day that would soon brighten up, I reported to the security office and was whisked into the magical world of moviemaking. The mine entrance and railway had been transformed into the Silicone Valley mine being prepared for destruction by Max Zorin. I watched in awe as Moore’s Bond and Tanya Roberts climbed aboard a mine cart to enter the mine. Moore spent most of the time between takes playing backgammon with producer Michael G Wilson (and autographing my James Bond Omnibus) while Christopher Walken and Grace Jones posed for my camera. An enormous crane held a full-size mock-up of the airship gondola that would feature in later scenes.
The most memorable part of the day however was meeting Bond legend, Bob Simmons. This was the man who doubled for Sean Connery in the train fight in From Russia With Love, and arranged the elevator fight for Diamonds Are Forever. A great man indeed. Bob took me under his wing, introducing me to director John Glen, and even telling me an intensely personal story that will remain private. (Sadly Bob died the following year.) This wasn’t to be my only meeting with 007 though. As they always announced at the end of each film, James Bond Will Return… §¨©ª
18th/19th December 1986. Elvedon Hall, Thetford. A new location and a new Bond for The Living Daylights. Interiors were being shot to match a scene already filmed in Morocco, and I was once again to meet 007, this time in the guise of Timothy Dalton. John Rhys Davies and Nadim Sawalha posed for photos, and publicist Geoff Freeman took over from Bob Simmons, looking after me. Break for lunch, and everybody was off to the local pub. I joined the crew in the taproom and was surprised when Timothy Dalton came in. He bought everyone a drink (beer not Martini for himself) and almost failed in his mission to pay because the barmaid couldn’t change a £50 note. A true gentleman who unfortunately only made one other Bond film, Licence To Kill. Skip forward to my next visit, but first… §¨©ª
There was a six-year gap between Licence To Kill and Goldeneye due to an extensive legal battle. For an avid Bond fan that sometimes felt like there might never be another film. So in 1994, as a joke, I wrote to EON Productions offering myself for the role of James Bond. As a serving police officer I also promised to conduct traffic duty when required and reduce on-set pilferage. How could they refuse? 26th July 1994. They did. I received a letter from the casting director, Debbie McWilliams, on the embossed and gilt headed paper of EON Productions. After the initial pleasantries she got down to the meat of it. “Unfortunately, there does not appear to be a role for you in this production.” A treasured possession. Not only my first rejection letter but one from the office of Universal Exports. §¨©ª
10th May 1995. Nene Valley Railway, Peterborough. And another new Bond in Pierce Brosnan for Goldeneye. Directed by another Campbell, Martin Campbell. I had already met a younger Brosnan at Milton Keynes on the set of The Fourth Protocol. Talk at the time had been all about him taking over from Roger Moore in The Living Daylights but the cancelled TV show Remington Steele was resurrected so he was no longer available, leaving Timothy Dalton to take the role. But now, in 1995, it was the beginning of the Pierce Brosnan era.
A small bridge over the railway had been turned into the mouth of a concrete tunnel, adorned with the red star of Russia. A mock-up tank and an armoured Soviet train completed the scenario as the tank fired on the train that would later crash into the tunnel. Finally, Bond and Izabella Scorupco dashed from the burning carriage just in time as the train exploded in a huge fireball. Lots of photos. The last I would be allowed to take because this was my final location visit. From now on it would be the secure environment of the studio. I was moving up in the world. §¨©ª
24th June 1997. Frogmore Studios near London. Pierce Brosnan again. Tomorrow Never Dies. A visit that should have included an action sequence on the backlot where an entire Vietnamese street had been recreated. Bad weather put a stop to that but I was given a guided tour of the set, so authentic it only lacked the smell of raw fish. The elements have to be catered for whenever filming outdoors and alternate scenes under cover kept as insurance. That meant I had a close up view of Bond and Michelle Yeoh confronting Jonathan Pryce in his multi-media control room, while handcuffed together. A wall of television monitors along one side and a fake panoramic view out of the windows. No cameras were allowed but Geoff Freeman managed to get Pierce to sign a photograph with a personal dedication that I can’t make out to this day. §¨©ª
7th May 1999. Pinewood Studios. Pierce Brosnan’s third appearance as James Bond in, The World Is Not Enough. The motto on his family coat of arms. This was probably my least exciting studio trip, despite being the true home of James Bond, arranged to coincide with a publicity tour by visiting media. Instead of being alone I was shepherded around in a group, precluding any close contact with the stars. The nearest I got to watching the filming was from a monitor outside the enclosed set as Sophie Marceau strangled Bond on an antique torture device before John Rhys Davies (yes, same actor but different role) rescued him. I did get to meet Pierce briefly as he worked his way down the line of visitors. Not to worry. The best was yet to come. But not before… §¨©ª
Sometime around the making of, The World Is Not Enough, I’m not sure if it was before or after, I wrote to Barbara Broccoli at EON Productions. This letter wasn’t a joke but a reminder of parts of the Ian Fleming novels that hadn’t been used yet. I thought that a good starting point would be Bond getting captured/tortured at the end of the pre-title sequence, just as he disappeared at the conclusion of You Only Live Twice, the novel. Then if he returned to MI6 after the titles having been brainwashed and attempted to kill M, as in the opening of The Man With The Golden Gun. I further speculated that Bond be given an easy mission to recuperate as in the book, but it turn into something bigger bringing him face to face with the villains who brainwashed him. Just an idea, and nothing that wasn’t already in the novels. I wouldn’t, and still don’t, suggest that this was anything they couldn’t have found in the books themselves. It must have touched a nerve however because a short time later I received a letter from Los Angeles. The excitement of seeing EON Productions mentioned quickly turned to dismay when I realised this was from an expensive law firm. In essence it was a disclaimer stating that none of my suggestions had been read by Barbara Broccoli or anyone at EON Productions and that I should not write to them again. A proud moment for me. Being threatened by James Bond’s attorneys. And completely understandable on their part. Hollywood is rife with lawsuits claiming that this film was based on that un-produced screenplay. Steven Spielberg even had to defend himself against that over Amistad.
No hard feelings. Considering that they are continually preparing the next film, and sometimes even the next two, I have no doubt that the outline for Die Another Day, in which James Bond is captured at the end of the pre-credit sequence and tortured during the titles would have been written long before my letter. Under the circumstance I completely understand their reaction. §¨©ª And so to the spring of 2002. Pinewood Studios. The Holy Grail for Bond fans. Die Another Day. Pierce Brosnan’s final outing as 007. A two-day visit that would become a fitting climax to my years with James Bond.
Following a tour of the Ice Hotel set and some of the smaller workshops, my two days was predominantly spent on the backlot where the exterior of the hotel and enormous greenhouse complex had been built. A massive area, including car park, hotel entrance, and fake mountain backdrop, was covered in artificial snow that looked real even as you walked on it. Bond sneaked around the side of the greenhouse, gun in hand. He carried a diminutive, and very wet, Halle Berry to the Aston Martin Vanquish. And he chatted happily with members of the crew. Now in his fourth production, he knew most of the crew but was perplexed by the stranger who kept skulking around the camera position during his scenes. Eventually, towards the end of the second day, he decided to find out who it was. During a break in filming he came up to me and asked, “Who are you?” With a smile. The smile diffused the situation for me and I explained that I was a policeman from Yorkshire, and acquaintance of the production manager. My original location man promoted to the top. “Oh, so you’re a fan?”
I admitted to being a Bond fan since seeing Goldfinger. He brushed my embarrassment aside and said that was all right. He’d been a fan since then himself, and still was. Just lucky enough to have the best seat in the house. After a brief chat it was back to work. He excused himself and went to get sprayed with water. (He was supposed to have swum to Halle Berry’s rescue.) His unexpected approach had caught me by surprise. I had a pocketful of business cards advertising my first novel, Darkwater Towers, and never thought to offer him one. Or introduce myself as the author I now considered myself to be. Still, another exciting moment in my Bond career. Not only threatened by his attorneys but fronted up by the man himself. And lived to tell the tale. §¨©ª “Colin Campbell stood in the shadows, his dinner jacket still elegant despite the rain. Gigantic spotlights illuminated the entrance and glinted off the Aston Martin DBS parked alongside the red carpet. Campbell glanced at the car and then at the double doors into The Light cinema complex. There was no hiding place. No way of entering the building without first negotiating the spotlights. It was time to make his move. Campbell cleared his throat, adjusted his black bow tie, and shot the cuffs of his tailored shirt. And then stepped onto the red carpet and into the premiere.” Having spent a lifetime in the company of James Bond it was time to see a new actor take over the role. In Casino Royale. The first Ian Fleming novel, and a journey back to Bond’s roots. So, what was it like? In a word, brilliant. A bit like Bond himself. And who knows, if it hadn’t been for that short story competition there might never have been a, Through The Ruins Of Midnight, and the rest. So listen carefully 007. Thank you very much. And goodnight. |
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