BARRING its release date being pushed back yet again, Daniel Craig’s swansong as James Bond, No Time to Die, will finally open in cinemas here at the end of September, almost two years after it was originally slated for release.
he long delay has allowed the UK tabloids to indulge in even more speculation than usual about who will be the next Bond. The latest actor supposedly in the frame — mainly, it seems, because he looks good in a tuxedo — is Bridgerton star Regé-Jean Page.
Were he to be cast, he’d be the first black James Bond.
And why not? Both the world and the Bond movies have changed a lot since 1973, when Bond tussled with a Harlem drug lord in Live and Let Die, the franchise’s attempt to cash in on the 1970s blaxploitation genre.
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But the reality is nobody has a clue who the next Bond might be.
Franchise supremo Barbara Broccoli has said she won’t even begin to consider the matter until the dust has settled on the Craig era.
One thing Broccoli has repeatedly confirmed, however, is that Bond definitely won’t be flipping gender. Ever.
We know from the No Time to Die trailer that Bond has retired and the agent now bearing the assigned number 007 is a woman.
But being 007 is not the same thing as being James Bond.
Broccoli is right not to countenance this nonsense. James Bond was, is and always should be a man, because there’s no logical reason to make him anything else.
Doctor Who, on the other hand, which is also currently the subject of casting speculation, is the opposite. There’s no rule that says the Doctor always has to be a man.
Yet it took until nearly 60 years after the very first episode of Doctor Who was broadcast for Jodie Whittaker to become the first female Doctor.
It looks almost certain that Whittaker will emulate several of her predecessors by stepping down from the role after three years, meaning the series will be getting a new Doctor in 2022.
Various UK tabloids (yes, them again) claimed singer and actor Olly Alexander, who was excellent in Channel 4’s It’s a Sin, had already been cast as the first openly gay Doctor.
Alexander’s agent quickly shot the story down.
That could be a smokescreen, though. Whittaker, for instance, knew she was the next Doctor for months before the official announcement, but couldn’t breathe a word to anyone.
Following on from Whittaker’s ground-breaking casting, the BBC might draw flak if it reverts to the straight, white male formula, so having a gay or bisexual Doctor (the series has already had recurring gay and bisexual supporting characters), whether male or female, would be a natural step.
So, come to that, would be casting an actor of colour.
The Doctor is a character that’s wide open to endless reinvention and reinterpretation.
Horace Rumpole, however, the elderly, weather-beaten barrister and tireless champion of the underdog created by John Mortimer, is very much the opposite.
The only Rumpole anyone ever needs is the one brilliantly played by the late Leo McKern, first in a 1975 BBC play and subsequently in seven hugely popular seasons of Rumpole of the Bailey on ITV between 1979 and 1992 (the series is currently being rerun on Talking Pictures TV on Wednesdays).
But it was recently announced that there’s going to be a new Rumpole.
Mortimer’s daughters Emily — who wrote the vapid BBC adaptation of The Pursuit of Love — and Rosie are working on an updated Rumpole of the Bailey, in which the character is now a woman.
I’m not against radical reboots per se.
The recent Perry Mason was superb. I’m not against swapping a character’s gender, either, provided it makes sense.
This, however, doesn’t make a lick of sense. Who is it being made for? Why is it being made?
It’s not needed.
Rumpole, with his battered Homburg hat, his old-fashioned clothes and his love of cheap cigars, cheap red wine and antagonising pompous opponents and judges, is a creature of his time and also his environment.
Take him out of that and reimagine him as a woman and you might as well just create a different character.
There’s a time for flipping a character’s gender and there’s a time for telling those who would flip it, even if they are the original author’s daughters, to just flip off.