Sean Connery is gone. He was 90. He died peacefully in his sleep.
My father loved Ian Fleming novels and, of course, the movies. I was named after Connery and I was keenly aware of him through his cinematic career. When I was younger it was always a knowing nod when I saw him in other films like Highlander, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, and The Untouchables. He famously turned down the role of Gandalf, which undoubtedly would have given him tremendous accolades. Of course, when you’re James Bond you don’t really need them.
When I watch the Connery Bond films today, they feel very much of their time. Frozen in amber, it’s almost funny hearing Connery’s Bond make fun of the Beatles playing music just a bit too loud.
I always wanted him to come back into the Bond franchise playing the villain. Of course, he’d be a former Double-0 from the 60s disenchanted with the world he saved many times over.
This year has taken so many of the icons I looked up to in my youth. Eddie Van Halen will live on through his music. Lou Brock through his contributions to baseball. Sean Connery will, of course, always be James Bond.
That’s more than most of us ever get.