
“Look at this!. Now I've got two holes where everybody's got one!”
(Roger Moore, talking about an accident he suffered when his exploding chair went off prematurely at the climax of The Spy Who Loved Me... and hurt his butt).
To place ourselves in time and place, we have to move to Uruguay in the 1970s. There I am, ten years old, going to the movies with my grandfather. Everyone in my family is a cinephile and, although we all have different tastes, we all agree on one thing: we love James Bond films. And this is going to be my debut, watching Moonraker (1977) on its opening day.
But the issue, of course, which Bond is your favorite. My grandparents, my mother and my uncle loved Connery. He was badass, pure testosterone, starring in the most memorable films of the saga. And although I admired Sean, I liked Roger much better. Of course, his was a very different Bond: joking, friendly, uninhibited, winking at the audience as if to say “the acrobatics you're about to see now... I don't believe it myself!".
There was something about Roger Moore's Bond that made him accessible. He was not a stoic, overbearing individual - like Connery, which was a reflection of his personality in real life - but a bon vivant who took nothing too seriously. Let's go back to Moonraker: by far one of the worst films of the saga and, although it is full of ridiculous dialogues and fights, Roger always ended up entertaining you.
All this comes to the point that, personally, it hurt me much more when Roger died than when Sean passed away. Moore was always waiting for me in my neighborhood movie theater, in the eternal reruns of 007 films that the Princess cinema in Montevideo presented every year. He was my partner in crime, his films had memorable action sequences and unmissable soundtracks (by John Barry), themes that you always came out humming after watching the film.
That's why, when I saw the trailer for a documentary about Moore, I booked it to watch as soon as I had the chance. Luckily some fan uploaded the BBC documentary to YouTube and I was able to watch it 10 days after its release.

In itself, Jack Cocker's documentary is halfway between a love letter to an idol, and a semi-rigorous investigation into the star's intimacy. It uses a device that I don't find very happy - putting Steve Coogan as narrator, imitating Roger's voice as if he were himself telling his story, and taking snippets from his autobiography - which falls into moments that feel forced or contrived. Nor is it an in-depth work on his entire filmography, but rather points to the important milestones - his movie debut, his early TV series, the success of The Saint (1962 - 1969) and finally stardom as the new James Bond in the 1973 film Live and Let Die -.
But perhaps the most interesting - and spicy - detail is that of his personal life from his beginnings until his stardom. Born into a working-class family, young Roger was a slightly overweight and somewhat insecure boy who didn't quite know what to do with his life. As Roger's father was a policeman, one day he is called upon to investigate a robbery at the mansion of film director Brian Desmond Hurst. Hurst was gay and was dazzled by Roger's beauty, suggesting that he should enter the world of cinema. He not only gave him his first role (as an extra in Caesar and Cleopatra, 1945) but paid for his acting studies at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA). Given Moore's limited acting expressiveness, he may have learned little or nothing at RADA but that is where he met his first wife, Doorn Van Steyn, who had a prestigious career as an ice skater and wanted to try her luck at film and theater.
Van Steyn was 6 years older, and soon a certain pattern of Moore's behavior - that of exploiting his beauty to rub shoulders with people who would help him climb the career ladder - begins to show. The marriage to Van Steyn is short-lived - 6 years -, and Moore jumps into the arms of singer Dorothy Squires, who is 12 years his senior. Squires was a well-known figure in England and wanted to try her luck in the United States, so they married and she took Roger with her to Hollywood, where they landed in 1954. Soon the scenes of jealousy begin - Squires gets him work in the industry, especially in the series The Alaskans (1959) where he shares the bill with the beautiful Dorothy Provine, with whom he has an affair -, and the marriage begins to crack. The age (and talent) difference makes him look like a gigolo. That doesn't detract from the fact that Squires keeps getting him roles (as James Garner's english cousin, the titular hero of the Maverick series, 1957), even though their relationship is increasingly sour. And it all ends up going down the drain when Moore lands a role in a Peplum, Romulus and the Sabines (1961), where he will find the love of his life, the actress and model Luisa Mattioli. He doesn't care that she is engaged to a doctor, or that he is married: the chemistry is instantaneous, and they begin to appear together everywhere, being portrayed in the media to the embarrassment of Squires, who for 9 years will refuse to give her a divorce. In the middle Mattioli and Moore will move in together, have two children (a third one will come after being able to get married only in 1969), and will be together until 2000 (Roger, already very old, will marry in 2002 with Kristina Tholstrup... one of Mattioli's best friends). In the midst of all this, Squires will go off the deep end and start a court battle against the couple, especially when Moore and Mattioli appear on a TV show and the host announces them (wrongly for the time) as “Mr. and Mrs. Moore”.

Such was the singer's bitterness that, at one point, she would be banned from the courts because every year she would sue someone, even for the most banal reasons (at one point she had 30 active lawsuits!). In fact, Squires would be on the verge of bankruptcy as the excess of legal expenses would end up devouring his personal fortune.
In the midst of all this, Moore was molding his persona. He knew he was not a good actor, but he gained self-confidence, found himself seductive and began to use his charm to get everyone to like him. As Christopher Walken says at one point “if he didn't look like a leading man, he would have been a comedian”. When he gets the role of The Saint in the 1962 series, it is the culmination of a lifetime's work. He doesn't play Simon Templar - the adventurous thief and bon vivant -: he plays Roger Moore. His on-screen persona is the same as in real life: making fun of himself, laughing at anything, a tireless optimist, seducing women with a smile, terrible at fighting and not very convincing when it comes to looking sad or dramatic.
But people love him. And, even better, they love him at press conferences, which is where Moore shines. He's the ideal guest for any late-night show: funny, affable, witty, there isn't a person who doesn't like him. Although The Saint gives him international luster, he is still a minor star: but even so, he begins to hang out with Frank Sinatra, Kirk Douglas... especially Michael Caine and Joan Collins, with whom his friendship would last a lifetime (unfortunately, the documentary commits the crime of not interviewing Caine, eternal sidekick of his adventures for decades).

And why did all these people love him? Basically because with Mattioli and his children they had built a tribe and invited everyone to their home. Good food, endless afternoons at the pool, jokes all the time. His children adored him. His wife...she was jealous as hell. She knew Roger is an inveterate womanizer and from time to time they had scenes of jealousy and shouting. On one occasion he saw a very pretty girl in very tight pants walk into a restaurant and she immediately slapped him. “And that, why was that?”. “Just in case,” she replied.
And of course, in the midst of all the happiness, came the role of superstardom. When he's called to take on the role of James Bond, he pops a bottle of champagne and celebrates with his whole family.
Moore knows he's not a tough guy like Connery. He asks the producers for changes. So when he first introduces himself - in the lair of the villain Kananga, in front of the tarotist Solitaire (Jane Seymour), and saying for the first time “my name is Bond.... James Bond” - he does it with a smile. The producers ask him to be ruthless, but it doesn't come off. They ask him to please control his left eyebrow - which seems to be the only sign of expressiveness that comes out of him - but he can't. Instead the guy is a tender one who speaks in a sweet, seductive voice. It's a very different 007... maybe too much.
That's why Moore has such a hard time in his early years as James Bond. No one is quite convinced that he's right for the role. The critics punish him mercilessly and the box office is not brilliant. He tells the producers “you want Roger Moore to play James Bond; let James Bond play Roger Moore”. The films come with more comedic pacing, which is more suited to his personality. Sometimes he looks ridiculous, but he loves the camera and, even better, he winks at the audience. Live and Let Die has a good box office, The Man With the Golden Gun (1974) not so much. Roger's job as 007 is in jeopardy. Changes are needed, otherwise the series is at risk of cancellation or, alternatively, going out to find another actor as replacement.

But the stars aligned with The Spy Who Loved Me (1977), and people began to love Roger as 007. By now everyone is used to his shenanigans. Sure, it's a blockbuster that recycles themes and villain models from 007's golden age - the 1960s - but it's what allows Moore to assert himself in the role. There is no more questioning. Roger is an acquired taste.
The point, of course, is that Roger knows that his thing as a movie star is very limited. When he wants to try his luck outside the 007 saga, the results are lukewarm at best. At EON - the historic producer of James Bond films - everyone loves him. Michael G. Wilson and Barbara Broccoli rave about him. When the catering service that the production of The Spy Who Loved Me had hired in Egypt fails, he has no problem putting on an apron and cooking giant pots of noodles (along with Cubby Broccoli!) to feed actors, extras and all the film's technical staff. Genius.
That's why you love Roger Moore. He was a real guy. A guy who made you want to be his friend, and you were sure to have a great time in his company. He never had a fight with anyone, you only hear compliments and excellent anecdotes about his inexhaustible humor. Of course, his life was to be James Bond and, when age weighs on him - in 1985 he retires from the role -, he is not very clear what to do. He is a millionaire but he is not a box-office magnet either, nobody is dying to hire him. He makes a few films for fun - Spice World, Boat Trip -, many of which are terrible but serve to keep him active. Exiled in Switzerland since 1978 - where many actors have moved because of the heavy tax burden in Britain - he soon makes friends of all kinds. One of them is his neighbor Sean Connery (!); but the most influential is Audrey Hepburn. She is the one who convinces him to join UNICEF as a goodwill ambassador. He travels around the world and raises awareness of humanitarian causes. In 2003 he is awarded the title of Knight Commander of the Order of the British Empire (KBE) for his services to humanitarian causes in UNICEF and Kiwanis International. This fills him with pride and he ends up saying “it meant far more to me than if I had got it for acting”.

In 2017, he died in Switzerland at the age of 89 from Cancer. Historical actors of the 007 saga - Sean Connery, George Lazenby, Timothy Dalton, Pierce Brosnan and Daniel Craig - pay tribute to him. His children talk about his last moments, and tears well up in their eyes. The camera pans over them, rummaging around inside the attics, pulling out photographs and videotapes, as home recordings were his great hobby. 40 video cassettes containing memories, with huge Hollywood stars visiting his home, playing with his children, or sharing jokes with him as he sat at the head of a huge table full of guests. At one point he asks Christopher Walken (his nemesis in A View to a Kill, 1985) “what are you going to do for Christmas?” “no idea; I'll spend it alone in my apartment” “don't even think about it; take a plane, I'll wait for you at my house in Switzerland!”. Not only a generous man, but also a great guy.
To you Roger, with all my heart, here is a greeting from one of your fans. Maybe this documentary doesn't really do you justice, but it's the closest thing to a glimpse into your family life, your intimacy, your real person. And it serves to discover that sometimes there are exceptions and idols are idols both on screen and in real life.
“What is the greatest creation of my life...”. Simon Templar? James Bond? No. Just a simple, affable guy named Roger Moore.”
Other articles this month, January 2025:
- The infamous power of spectacle: Triumph of the Will (1935) - in english, challenge Red Flag Films
- How to create a great cult movie from a ridiculous idea: The Car (1977) - in english, challenge My Guilty Pleasure on Screen
- From Roger Moore with Love (2024): Icon on and off the screen - in english, challenge Fresh Film Focus
- Casablanca (1942) and the dilemma of whether the classics need to be reevaluated - in spanish, Overrated classics challenge
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