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that!’ I cried.
    The happiest days of Bond’s life. Mr and Mrs James Bond in
On Her Majesty’s Secret Service
.
    My interrogator didn’t seem to realize what he was saying. He re-phrased it and said virtually the same thing again. I cringe whenever I see the clip.
    Normally when you have a scene involving kissing a lady (or I guess a man if you fancy it), you never actually go in for the kiss during rehearsal as it tends to smudge make-up and ruffle hair. You just go through the motions, move in close, say ‘and they kiss’ and get on with the rest of the scene. In
The Spy Who Loved Me
I rehearsed one such scene with an Italian actress, and it all seemed to go rather well. Lewis Gilbert leaned over and said, ‘Can we have a sample of the kiss, dear?’
    Suddenly from across the stage floor, this long snake-like tongue shot at me at the speed of light, worked its way around my teeth like dental floss and plunged deep into my throat. I was quite taken aback.
    There is certainly no romance in a love scene, save that for the dressing room, if you’re lucky – and if your wife ever walks in on you, heed the advice of Burt Lancaster as relayed to me by Tony Curtis: ‘Just continue, and when you get home, explain they have people that look like you on the film.’
    My good friend Jill St John, Mrs Robert Wagner these days, showing that diamonds are a girl’s best friend in 1971.
     
    My first leading lady, Jane Seymour. In the casting session, she removed her hat, shook her head, and let her long hair fall out. There was no question of anyone else after that.
    Far from being a romantic moment of intimacy shared by two people, a film love scene is often witnessed by fifty or sixty crew members, many being hairy-arsed technicians in the rafters clenching fists and shouting, ‘Go on, Rog! Give her one for us!’ It does rather put one off one’s stride. And if there’s mention on the call sheet of a love scene, or one of at least partial nudity, it always amazes me how the crew size swells and we tend to inherit workers from adjacent stages and productions.
WHO WILL IT BE?
    There is always a huge interest in who is going to be cast as the next Bond girl, not least among the crew, and inevitably there is a press conference to introduce her. She then has a few minutes to talk about being ‘different from the normal Bond girls’ by ‘being independent, tough, intelligent and a new type of girl’. They all say it.
    Many girls, particularly in the early films, were cast because of their ravishing good looks. There’s nothing wrong with that, and I’m no sexist either, let me add. If they happened to have rather large busts, that certainly sealed their involvement as far as Cubby was concerned. He was what you’d call ‘a boob man’. Though he also once remarked, on set, while looking at one of the lovely beauties wandering about, that she had a ‘particularly lovely derrière’. The lady seemingly also had particularly good hearing, as she turned, pounced and told Cubby he was a ‘sexist, misogynist swine’ and went into a long diatribe about how women have been kept down over the centuries by men like him, and how women are actually better than men, and how dare he treat her like a bimbo.
    His and Hers outfits came as standard on this set. Lois Chiles as Dr Holly Goodhead. In explaining away her character’s name to her father she said, ‘I’m a doctor, with a very good head on my shoulders.’ Well, what else would it mean?
    Another time we incurred the wrath of one of our leading ladies was when Lewis Gilbert offered me a little direction: ‘Roger, when you come in and she sees you …’
    ‘She!
She
?’ exclaimed the intelligent, tough, independent beauty. ‘I have a name and it is ******!’ and she spelled it out in a very loud voice.
    ‘I wasn’t talking to you, dear, I was talking to
him
,’ Lewis replied rather nonchalantly.
    On another occasion, when giving direction to the same lady, Lewis