The Least Interesting Man in the World
The Least Interesting Man in the World -
Created as a figure with no personality, James Bond has survived half a century because of what we keep throwing at him—and projecting onto him.
IN THE EARLY 1950s, Ian Fleming, an Englishman living in Jamaica, was working on a spy novel and, as he told The New Yorker a decade later, he conceived the central figure as “an extremely dull, uninteresting man to whom things happened.” Searching for a suitably boring name, Fleming found it on his bookshelf, in the name of the ornithologist who authored the field guide Birds of the West Indies: James Bond.
The inherent anonymity of those two syllables, and the blank slate they imply, hint at why the fictional British secret agent is at the center of the longest-running film franchise of all time. Skyfall, which opens this fall, will be the 25th Bond film (all but two made by the same production company), and it arrives 50 years after the release of the first, Dr. No. Bond may not have the thousand faces of Joseph Campbell’s mythic hero, but he has comfortably fit the features of six quite different actors, from Sean Connery to Daniel Craig.
In July, 007 escorted the Queen to the opening ceremonies of the London Olympics, simultaneously embodying the two constants of his character: coolness under pressure and allegiance to his country. Bond—who was orphaned at age 11 and has something of a stern-parent/naughty-son relationship with his boss, M—is a grudgingly loyal government employee.
“Even at those moments when Bond attempts to go rogue,” notes film historian Tom McNeely, “he is still seeking justice while under some kind of watchful, older eyes.”
That sets him apart from such lone-wolf heroes as Batman and Jason Bourne, who embody the spirit of American individualism.