Skip to main content

Moore, Roger Moore

The suave, debonair, tough-as-nails British spy James Bond has been gracing the silver screen for over half a century. In total, six actors have officially portrayed the character (EON productions hold the rights to character, so anything made outside of their realm isn't consider canon). Of those six incarnations, Roger Moore was by far my favorite Bond.

Everyone has their favorite actor who played the super spy. For many, it's Sean Connery. Some are perfunctory about acknowledging it. Many are smug and defensive. The folks who prefer Moore often do so effusively and with a spring in their step. Perhaps that's a difference between the two characterizations? Perhaps, ultimately, it doesn't matter.

I never saw a Bond movie in the theater until Timothy Dalton's first outing in the role in The Living Daylights. It was just alright, a far cry from the heyday of the Roger Moore years. Moore's Bond was a perfect blend of seriousness and tongue-in-cheek bravado. His Bond never took things too seriously. Unless he had to, of course. His adventures were iconic, from the villain-turned-good-guy Jaws, to underwater lairs and outer space bases, to the end of Blofeld, and the in-your-face titled Octopussy, Moore's era was bold and yet aware of its silliness.

How fitting that Moore's swan song from the series featured a great line-up of actors: The Avengers' Patrick Macnee, the supremely unique and mesmerizing singer Grace Jones, and, of course, the wacky Christopher Walken as the villain. Granted, the plot may have been been a bit thin, but it was still fun. And that was the most important part, the signature of Moore's years in the role.

It was always an exciting occasion when, as a kid, the ABC network would air a Bond movie. Sure, they'd show some Connery entries in the franchise, but my favorites were always Moore's outings. I fondly remember sitting in the wood-paneled living room of our small ranch house on Draper St. - mom, dad and I - watching The Spy Who Loved Me, Moonraker and For Your Eyes OnlyOctopussy and A View to a Kill. Octopussy used to give me the creeps, beginning with the clown chase scene and later Bond dressed-up in the gorilla suit. And who can forget the Parisian scenes in A View to a Kill?

Now, Roger Moore is, like those old days in the wood-paneled living room, a memory. It gave me pause that his death yesterday at the age of 89 should have come as such a surprise. Someone who's nearly 90 has had some good innings, and is well above the average life span. Why, then, the shock and sadness? Perhaps it's because Moore was, even into his later years, a very active, witty person. Or perhaps it is because his death marks the closure of a chapter of my childhood?

We'll not see his like again.


Popular posts from this blog


Ok, we're now three-fourths of the way through this year's calendar, so I thought I'd rank the thirty-eight 2017 movies I've seen so far.

Here they are....

1. A Quiet Passion
2. Baby Driver
3. Dunkirk
4. Get Out
5. Kedi
6. A Ghost Story
7. Wonder Woman
8. Columbus
9. Brad's Status
10. Marjorie Prime
11. Maudie
12. Logan
13. Spider-Man: Homecoming
14. Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2
15. Brigsby Bear
16. Atomic Blonde
17. The Big Sick
18. Split
19. Kong: Skull Island
20. It
21. Wind River
22. A Cure for Wellness
23. The Hitman's Bodyguard
24. Norman
25. Kingsman: The Golden Circle
26. Logan Lucky
27. Alien Covenant
28. Ghost In the Shell
29. War for the Planet of the Apes
30. Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales
31. Life
32. Annabelle: Creation
33. Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets
34. My Cousin Rachel
35. Baywatch
36. The Bye Bye Man
37. mother!
38. It Comes at Night

It will be interesting to see what the last three months of the year brin…

If You Could Read My Mind

Dance clubs are a funny thing. They contain within their walls a life force and vibrancy sometimes unmatched anywhere else. When dusk settles and the lights come on, people will flood the dance floors to gyrate to music with hypnotic beats and songs about love, lust and fun at the disco. At gay bars, this sort of scenario usually increases ten-fold. It isn't for everyone, but for many it is a respite from the harsh realities of the real word. It is a place that isn't just a structure, but a sanctuary where folks -- minorities in their own communities -- can take shelter and unwind with abandon, at least for a few nighttime hours.
As someone who benefited greatly from such an aforementioned gay dance club, you can imagine my dismay at news of the closing of Chester Street Bar. In business for over three decades, gay-owned and operated, there was a time when C-Street (as it was known by most) was the only haven for those in the LGBT community, near and far, to enjoy themselves …


"Step out from the mask you stand behind Fearful lost and blind Time to take the time The pressure’s on you Hide away, hide away No tomorrow, just today"
- Brilliant, Ultravox
Today was National Coming Out Day, so of course it gives some pause for reflection on my own coming out story. It was in April 1993, my junior year of high school (go Chargers!). In the six years of writing this blog, I have alluded to how I came out, but never really delved into the intricacies of how it came about. What better day to do so than today?
My first (small) indications of homosexuality manifested in grade school. While in first grade, I thought a fifth grader looked cute. In fifth grade, I would stare, longingly, at a boy in class, until he caught me looking at him. There were some infatuations with boys in middle school, and a first sexual experience during freshman year of high school. Everything up to that point had been, for the most part, based in the physical realm. I liked the way certain…