The 007 Diaries: Filming Live and Let Die

‘Are the broads loose in Scotland?’ Naturally, I had to make her repeat it because I could not quite believe my ears, but I had heard right the first time. Her problem was her husband was off to Scotland, and she was anxious he should come back with the knowledge not of what Scotsmen wore under the kilts, but rather their lassies.

And so to bed, where I will spend most of the next twenty-four hours. Tonight, with my lovely Luisa, and tomorrow with Jane, surrounded by lights, cameras and a small army of technicians when we shoot our love scene.

The children arrive tomorrow, and I wonder if Geoffrey will realise I am Bond when he sees me in action. Just before we left England he asked: ‘Can you beat anybody, including a robber?’ ‘Oh, yes,’ I replied confidentially. ‘Supposing James Bond came in,’ he persisted. ‘Daddy is going to play James Bond,’ I explained. ‘I know that,’ he sighed impat

The question that still rolls at me as relentlessly as the camera is: ‘How is your Bond going to be different from Sean Connery’s Bond?’ I am absolutely fed up with being asked that and I have, at last, thought of an answer. I will ask writers how their column is going to be different from everybody else’s column.

shots, and after a miserably anxious day the good news came. The film had been successfully screened in London.

When I first knew I was going to do Bond, Harry Saltzman, who co-produces the Bond series with Cubby Broccoli, said it must be

Yesterday, the first day, I felt rather like a new boy with the crew because most of them had worked together before. It took them a day to discover that I wasn’t completely chicken. They really are a great crew. The director, Guy, and Bob Kindred, the camera operator, tied themselves on the front of a boat today tearing at 60mph up and down the ba

I have been asked to sign all sorts of strange things, including hands, arms and actual breasts. I remember Danny Kaye, coming over on the plane, was asked to sign a stewardess’s blouse in a protuberant place. My nastiest moment with autograph hunters was years ago when I was making Ivanhoe. I stepped from a car at the stage door, where a mob of te

A little light has gone out of our lives with the leaving of lovely Gloria, who has completed her scenes here and gone off on an Austrian holiday, where her warm exuberance is probably melting the mountain snows. She is quite a girl; she endeared herself to the whole unit, and, for myself, I couldn’t have wished for a more delightful double agent t