That three word line delivered with just this
icy, almost disdainful style bond, James Bond.
It's it's arguably the most famous self -introduction
in all of cinema history. It really is. I mean,
the American Film Institute ranked that character
as the third greatest hero ever to be on the
silver screen. It's iconic. But today we are
diving deep into the man who embodied that line
and then kind of paradoxically spent the next
40 years trying to escape it. Sir Thomas Sean
Connery. And we have a really deep and comprehensive
stack of sources for this one. They trace Connery's
life right from his, you know, working class
beginnings as a milkman in Edinburgh. A milkman.
It's incredible. All the way through to becoming
a global cinematic knight. So our mission today
is really to excavate those crucial, often unexpected
nuggets of knowledge. The grit, the politics,
the really surprising non -bond career moves.
Yeah. All the things that reveal the complexity
and just the relentless determination of a man
who is constantly seeking to redefine himself
really is against his own fame. And you mentioned
his early life informed his character, and that
just feels like such a crucial thread running
through all of the source material. He wasn't
simply a film star. He was, I mean, it was a
study in strategic personal reinvention. It was.
Always fighting against this suave, polished
persona that he sort of accidentally created.
What's truly fascinating when you dig into it
is how much that tough, grounded upbringing in
Scotland informed the raw charisma and, well,
the genuine hard man edge he later projected
on screen. Right. We're going to look at the
critical, really pragmatic decisions he made.
Things like, you know, quitting professional
bodybuilding because he wouldn't sacrifice athleticism
for just pure bulk. Amazing decision when you
think about it. And then the ultimate sacrifice
he made later in life, turning down just astronomical
paydays for roles he didn't intellectually connect
with. Those decisions, at the end of the day,
defined his long -term success. They forced the
world to recognize him as a great actor, not
just a spy. Okay, let's unpack this biography
because the contrast between his roots and his
global image is just astonishing. It really is.
I mean, when we picture James Bond, we conjure
up these images of bespoke suits, Aston Martins,
high -stakes poker, or Monte Carlo. Of course.
But when we talk about Thomas Sean Connery, we
begin so far from that glamour. We start at the
Royal Maternity Hospital in Edinburgh, where
he was born on August 25, 1930. And the sources
really paint such a vivid picture of his foundation.
He was brought up at number 176 Fountain Bridge,
which was a block of tenements that has since
been demolished. It was an environment of, you
know, financial struggle, but really strong family
ties. Absolutely. His mother, Euphemia Effie
McLean, she worked as a cleaning woman. And his
father, Joseph Connery, was balancing jobs as
a factory worker and a lorry driver. This was
a household sustained entirely by hard physical
labor. No silver spoons here. Not at all. And
we also find a surprisingly mixed cultural heritage,
which is, I think, essential context for understanding
his later very staunch Scottish nationalism.
How so? Well, he was half Irish. His paternal
great grandparents emigrated from Wexford. Yeah.
And intriguingly, one of those great grandparents
was identified as an Irish traveler. Wow. I did
not know that. And on his mother's side, the
Scottish roots run incredibly deep, right? They
connect him directly to the highlands and islands.
They do. His maternal great -grandparents were
native Scottish Gaelic speakers from two very
distinct regions, Fife and Ugg on Skye. So you've
got this real mix of Celtic identity brewing.
And there was also a religious split in the family,
which was pretty common in Scotland at the time.
His father was Catholic. His mother was Protestant.
And he started life known simply as Tommy. Tommy.
Yeah. The adoption of his middle name, Sean,
came later. The story is that it was because
of a close Irish childhood friend he had named
Samus. Okay. And when they were... Together,
people started calling him Sean to highlight
the, you know, the assonance between the two
names and the new moniker just gets stuck. So
the shish from Tommy to Sean and then later to
that nickname Big Tam, it really shows the sheer
physical transformation he went through. The
sources say he was reportedly quite small as
a boy. Yeah, but around age 12, he just hit this
massive growth spurt. He reached his imposing
adult height of 6 feet 2 inches by the time he
was 18. Big Tam. Big Tam. It was a name that
perfectly reflected this sudden stature and the
physical presence he would carry his entire life.
And he immediately looked for ways to leverage
that physique, didn't he? Which led him straight
into bodybuilding. Straight into it. He started
serious training around 1951, really seeking
the discipline structure. that athletics provided
him. And this all culminated in his participation
in the 1953 Mr. Universe competition. Right,
the Mr. Universe competition. Now, the sources
vary a bit on this, don't they? He either placed
third in the junior class or didn't place at
all in the tall man classification. Exactly.
The result isn't really the point. The experience
itself was pivotal, but not for the reason you
might expect. It wasn't about winning. And you
noted this moment foreshadowed the strategic
pragmatism he would employ throughout his career.
He basically saw a dead end and just walked away,
despite having the talent. Why was that? The
sources reveal a very, very calculated decision.
Connery realized he was at a competitive disadvantage
against the American bodybuilders. They beat
him purely on sheer muscle size, which he just
wasn't naturally inclined toward or maybe wasn't
willing to achieve through the same extreme methods.
But the crucial difference, the thing that made
him quit, was their mindset. Which was what?
They refused to participate in any other type
of athletic activity. You know, team sports,
football, physical labor, anything that might
cause muscle loss. So he saw that professional
bodybuilding demanded this kind of specialization
that would require him to sacrifice the very
athleticism he actually valued. Precisely. Yeah.
It was a tradeoff he just wasn't willing to make.
and it demonstrates that early prioritization
of dynamic physical capability over static bulk.
which ironically served him so well later in
his action roles. Absolutely. That dynamic physical
presence, the ability to actually move, is defined
by the long list of incredibly diverse jobs he
held just to survive in post -war Edinburgh.
This was not the life of a privileged gentleman.
Not even close. The list is staggering, and it
really reveals a deep connection to the working
classes that he championed later in his life.
His first job. The milkman. The milkman for St.
Cuthbert's Cooperative Society. He loved telling
that anecdote later in life about astonishing
an Edinburgh taxi driver because he knew every
single street. And Connery just told him? As
a boy, I used to deliver milk around here. It's
perfect. It's so grounding. Beyond the milk round,
he was a lorry driver, which connects back to
his father's profession. He was a lifeguard at
Portobello Baths. He worked as a laborer. And
in one of the most striking details, he had a
stint as a coffin polisher. A coffin polisher.
Can you imagine? It's unbelievable. He took on
any work necessary just to keep afloat. But his
physical transformation also opened up a really
surprising path. He worked as an artist's model
for the Edinburgh College of Art. Yeah, earning
a relatively high 15 shillings an hour. The contrast
is just fascinating. A coffin polisher by day
and a muse by evening. You just can't make it
up. Artist Richard DeMarco, who worked with him,
described him as very straight, slightly shy,
too beautiful for words, a virtual Adonis. It's
hard to reconcile the big Tam who fought in the
streets with the virtual Adonis posing for art
students, isn't it? But they were both aspects
of the same intensely disciplined man. We also
have to mention his early naval service, which
seems to have deeply influenced his sense of
identity. He joined the Royal Navy in 1946 at
just 16 years old, training at the Naval Gunnery
School. And it was during this time that he acquired
the two tattoos that reflected his lifelong personal
and political commitments. One reading, Mom and
Dad, and the other? Scotland Forever. Scotland
Forever. That declaration of eternal national
allegiance was inked long, long before his politics
became globally famous. His naval career was
short -lived, though. He was discharged at 19
on medical grounds. It was a duodenal ulcer,
a condition that was common among the men in
his family. Right. But his reputation as Big
Tam was cemented long before that discharge through
an anecdote that just perfectly captures his
inherent toughness. This would be the Valdor
gang incident. The Valdor gang incident, yes.
They were a notorious and particularly violent
gang in Edinburgh at the time. The whole confrontation
began when Connery was in a billiard hall and
members of the gang tried to steal his leather
jacket. And he just stood his ground. He stood
his ground, prevented the theft. But that initial
confrontation led to an escalation. Right, because
they couldn't let that stand. Exactly. So later,
six members of the gang tracked him down to the
Palais de Danse. Connery knew he was outnumbered
and he had to move quickly, so he cornered them
on a 15 -foot -high balcony. And the sources
describe his reaction as just immediate and decisive.
Completely. He physically grabbed two of the
gang members, one by the throat, the other by
the bicep, and forcefully cracked their heads
together, knocking them flat. That is something
straight out of an action movie script. But this
was real life in 1950s Edinburgh. Exactly. And
the result, the rest of the gang just retreated.
They left him alone after that. They recognized
and respected that inherent capability to handle
a confrontation. It really is the origin story
of the Bond we saw on Scream. A man who clearly
knew how to handle himself, whose suave exterior
was built on an incredibly solid foundation of
working class grit. So if we follow that man.
The physical labor, the model, the naval veteran,
the self -disciplined bodybuilder. How does he
transition this raw energy into the delicate
world of the stage? It started, as his previous
jobs did, very pragmatically. He was just looking
for ways to supplement his income in late 1951
and began helping backstage at the King's Theater.
Just to make ends meet. Exactly. The true spark
of his acting career, however, came unexpectedly
in 1953 when a fellow competitor at a bodybuilding
contest suggested, almost flippantly, that he
should audition for the touring production of
the musical South Pacific. And he got a role
immediately. Started small as a chorus boy, a
CB, but his upward trajectory with that single
production was well it was remarkable he was
a quick study by the time the show reached edinburgh
he had already been promoted to marine cripple
hamilton steves and was understudying the lead
roles his salary reflected this success too it
jumped from 12 pound to 14 pounds and 10 shillings
a week which was decent money back then it was
and the following year the show returned and
he had landed the featured role of lieutenant
buzz adams but the real turning point wasn't
the pay increase or even the better role It was
the education he received from within the company.
This is where Big Tam starts becoming Sean Connery,
the thoughtful actor. This is Robert Henderson.
Robert Henderson. He befriended the American
actor who just recognized the immense potential
hidden beneath that physique. Henderson was an
absolutely critical influence. He was basically
Connery's intellectual mentor. He didn't just
teach him stagecraft. He introduced him to literature
that expanded his worldview and really prepared
him for serious roles. Yeah, he lent him the
cornerstones of Western drama and philosophy.
I mean, we're talking Ibsen, Proust, Tolstoy,
Joyce, Shakespeare. The greats. And he fundamentally
urged Connery to undertake elocution lessons,
understanding that if he could just refine his
powerful voice and his theatrical delivery, his
natural charisma would be unstoppable. This was
rigorous self -improvement. But despite this
rapid growth, the struggles were still very real.
His financial difficulties continued, and they
forced him to take some truly odd side hustles.
The sources note he was forced to take a part
-time job as a babysitter for a journalist couple
earning 10 shillings a night. A babysitter. James
Bond, a babysitter. It's incredible. And it was
during this babysitting gig that he met the Hollywood
actress Shelley Winters. Her description of him
just encapsulates that moment perfectly. She
saw one of the tallest and most charming and
masculine Scotsman she had ever encountered.
So the charm was clearly powerful, even if the
financial situation was pretty dire. Oh, absolutely.
Through the late 50s, the stage provided steady
work. He was an Agatha Christie's witness for
the prosecution and classic dramatic roles in
the Bacchias Pentheus and Anna Christie. His
first extra role came in 1954 in Lilacs in the
spring, but it was 1957 when he secured an agent,
Richard Hatton, that led to his first credited
film role. And that role was Spike, a minor gangster
with a speech impediment in the film No Road
Back. Yeah. It's almost impossible now to imagine
Sean Connery with a speech impediment, but it
just shows he was willing to take on challenging,
non -glamorous roles right from the very start.
However, the moment that truly showcases capabilities
to industry professionals came on the small screen.
The Canadian director Alvin Rakoff was... disillusioned
with his established leading man, Jack Palance.
And he took a significant gamble on Connery,
giving him his first leading role as Mountain
McClintock in the BBC television production of
Requiem for a Heavyweight in 1957. And that television
role gave him immediate and serious critical
exposure. It led to other gritty parts, like
the rogue lorry driver Johnny Yates in Helldrivers
that same year. He was really establishing himself
as this talented, tough, working class actor.
But the anecdote that truly cemented his reputation
for having that blend of theatricality and real
-life hardman capability came on the set of the
melodrama. Another time, another place in 1958.
He was co -starring with Lana Turner. Ah, the
Lana Turner incident. The perfect collision of
Hollywood scandal and Edinburgh street grit.
It really is. So Turner was dating Johnny Stompanato,
who was a known Los Angeles gangster connected
to the notorious West Coast mob boss, Mickey
Cohen. And Stompanato flew to the set in the
UK. absolutely convinced that Connery and Turner
were having an affair after seeing them out socially.
So Stompanato just storms the set looking for
a confrontation. And what happened next really
defines the difference between a typical studio
star and Sean Connery. Stompanato reportedly
pulled a gun and pointed at that Connery. But
Connery, you know, recalling his background,
did not hesitate for a second. He disarmed the
gangster immediately and knocked him flat on
his back. Unbelievable. Stompanato was subsequently
banned from the set and escorted to the airport
by Scotland Yard detectives. That's a story that
sounds like it was fabricated for a publicity
stunt, but it was completely genuine. And it
came with significant risks for Connery. It did.
Connery later. recounted that because Stompanato
was connected directly to Mickey Cohen, he received
credible threats from men linked to the organization.
He actually had to go into hiding for a while.
Wow. That raw, grounded experience in navigating
real danger, not cinematic danger, must have
stayed with him. And yet, despite that real -life
drama, his first major U .S. exposure was just
utterly wholesome and non -threatening. Walt
Disney's Darby O 'Gill and the Little People
in 1959. A charming Irish folklore tale about
leprechauns. I mean, you couldn't get further
from mobsters with guns. The New York Times review
at the time just noted him as merely tall, dark,
and handsome. So Hollywood wasn't quite sure
how to categorize this rugged talent yet. Not
at all. But he was noticed. He was magnetic even
when he was playing a romantic singing role.
The stage was now set for the biggest pivot of
his career. Everything culminates in the role
that defined him, James Bond. The decision to
take it was strategic, but also a tremendous
risk, committing him potentially to a decade
of films. He was, as we said, initially reluctant,
very reluctant to commit to a long film series
because he had aspirations towards serious theatrical
roles. But he recognized the franchise's potential
for immediate, unprecedented global stardom.
And the casting was just... fraught with controversy,
wasn't it? Largely due to the character's creator,
Ian Fleming. Fleming was not a fan, not a first.
He envisioned Commander Bond as this sophisticated,
more reserved man, someone perhaps like David
Niven or Cary Grant. Right. He famously doubted
Connery, calling him unrefined and dismissing
him as an overgrown stuntman. He just thought
he was too rough and too obviously Scottish for
the part. So we really owe Connery's casting
largely to the shrewd judgment of one person,
Dana Broccoli, the wife of producer Albert R.
Cubby Broccoli. Absolutely. She was instrumental.
She persuaded her husband and his partner, Harry
Salzman, that Connery possessed the necessary
raw sexual charisma and the underlying toughness
that the role needed. She saw the potential where
Fleming saw only roughness. And her judgment
was validated so quickly. Fleming was so impressed
by Dr. No's success in 1962 that he famously
and retroactively injected Scottish heritage
into the literary character. Yes. In the 1964
novel, You Only Live Twice, he stated Bond's
father was from Glencoe. That's just a powerful
acknowledgement of Connery's defining influence
on the character he created. But the transformation
from Big Tam to the international man of mystery
was a very deliberate construction. It required
intensive stylistic tutelage from the director,
Terrence Young. Young really took Connery under
his wing. He essentially acted as an etiquette
coach and a finishing school instructor all in
one. He leveraged Connery's natural physical
grace, which he developed through bodybuilding
and sports, for all the action. But he refined
the demeanor. Lois Maxwell, the original Miss
Moneypenny, confirmed that Young taught him how
to walk, how to talk, even how to eat. It was
a crash course in upper class sophistication
designed to polish the raw diamond. And the impact
was immediate and global. After Dr. No's opening,
Connery was receiving thousands of fan letters
a week. He became an instant undeniable international
sex symbol. And that self -introduction Bond,
James Bond. It became an immediate cultural catchphrase,
marking the moment a Scottish working -class
boy redefined cinematic coolness. His initial
run was just a phenomenon. It was five consecutive
Eon productions. Right, Broccoli and Saltzman's
Company, which holds the primary canon rights.
So you have Dr. No in 62, From Russia with Love
in 63, Goldfinger 64, Thunderball 65, and You
Only Live Twice in 1967. And then he returned
for Diamonds Are Forever in 1971. And within
those productions, the sources detail the genuine...
and danger he encountered, which proves his capability
went way beyond mere acting. Let's talk about
the infamous shark scene in Thunderbolt. Oh,
the shark tank, yes. That scene involved Connery
being submerged in Emilio Largo's pool, which
contained live sharks. And Connery, fully aware
of the danger, insisted that the crew construct
a special, robust plexiglass partition to separate
him from the animals. Which proved to be an absolutely
essential precaution. Completely. Despite the
barrier, the sources confirmed that the partition
wasn't fixed properly and one of the sharks managed
to breach it. No way. Yes. Connery had to abandon
the pool immediately, narrowly escaping a legitimate,
life -threatening attack. This wasn't clever
camera work. It was real risk. Yet, as the success
soared, so did the psychological and artistic
burden. And this really is the central conflict
of his entire career. The immense fame versus
his deep discontent with the role. Connery grew
profoundly tired of the relentless pressure and
the creative constraints of playing a character
that had become a global brand. His quotes from
the time revealed genuine frustration. They're
quite shocking, really. He famously declared,
I am fed up to here with the whole Bond bit.
And even more dramatically, he said, I have always
hated that damn James Bond. I'd like to kill
him. And his close friend, Michael Caine, provided
some insight into why this was so agonizing for
him. It wasn't about the money or the fame itself.
No. It was because people would only refer to
him as James Bond. He felt it completely diminished
his skill and talent as an actor, and it prevented
him from being taken seriously in dramatic roles.
Which is all he ever really wanted. It is. And
that frustration led to him walking away, only
to return one last time for the non -eon produced
film Never Say Never Again in 1983. Right. And
we should give the listener some context on this.
It's important to understand the distinction.
Eon Productions held the main rights. Never Say
Never Again was a legal and financial anomaly.
It was essentially a remake of Thunderball produced
outside the standard franchise canon. And it
all stemmed from these longstanding legal complexities
over the original story rights. And the title
itself is just this perfect meta reference to
his fatigue. It was suggested by his wife, Micheline,
after he swore he would never again return to
the role. And while the film was a box office
success, the sources described the production
as a total nightmare. Yeah, it was plagued by
legal battles, director -producer strife, financial
issues, and resulted in perhaps the most famous
on -set injury of his entire career. The broken
wrist. The broken wrist. During a fight scene,
he suffered a broken wrist. And the fight choreographer
for that specific sequence was none other than
a young Steven Seagal. You're kidding. Nope.
So the combination of a fractured wrist, a negative
production experience, and a title literally
referencing his reluctance, it just sums up the
tortured complexity of his relationship with
the character he created. After that experience,
he took a two -year hiatus from filmmaking altogether.
So if we look at Connery's career through this
lens of strategic self -management, his pursuit
of non -Bond roles during and immediately after
the franchise proves his ambition was just far
greater than mere stardom. Absolutely. He used
his Bond fame as... currency basically, to secure
roles that forced critics and the audience to
see him as an artist. And one of the biggest
artistic challenges he took on during his Bond
tenure was working with the legendary Alfred
Hitchcock on Marnie in 1964. This led to an early
showdown that really defines his artistic integrity.
So one of those classic Hollywood moments. Connery
insisted on reading the script beforehand, which
was a request Hitchcock often denied his actors.
He just assumed they would sign based on his
reputation alone. Right. Connery reportedly told
Hitchcock's agent flatly, I'm not Cary Grant.
And that one line is just an incredible statement
of intent. It meant, I am not just a handsome,
suave leading man who does whatever the director
says. I need substance. I won't just fill your
established formula for charming protagonists.
Precisely. He refused to be a placeholder. And
while the film wasn't Hitchcock's biggest success,
it showed the world that he was willing to take
serious dramatic risks and stand up to legendary
directors to define his own artistic space. But
the truly critical collaboration that solidified
him as a dramatic actor came with the director
Sidney Lumet. The Hill in 1965 was the first
of five films they made together. And The Hill
was a black and white, totally non -glamorous
military prison drama. It was a massive contrast
to the colorful Bond films. It was a critical
success. It won Best Screenplay at Cannes. And
Connery frequently cited Lumet as one of his
favorite directors. So what specifically did
Lumet pull out of Connery that the Bond producers
couldn't or maybe didn't want to? Lumet saw the
grit. Not the polish. He saw the hard man from
Edinburgh, not the spy from MI6. Lumet praised
Connery's performance, noting the immense talent
required to play a character based on charisma
and magnetism, but applying it now to serious,
complex drama rather than, you know, escape his
tenancy. And the films they made together, like
The Offense and Murder on the Orient Express,
they really proved his dramatic depth outside
of that Dolora 7 cage. They did. And the 1970s
saw him move into these major ensemble productions,
which demonstrated his global... popularity wasn't
diminished by leaving Bond. He shared the Golden
Globe Henrietta Award for World Film Favorite
Male in 1972 with Charles Bronson. Right. We
see him in critically important ensemble films
like Murder on the Orient Express in 74 and the
WWII epic A Bridge Too Far in 77. But two specific
films stand out as personal favorites for him
and his co -stars. The first being The Man Who
Would Be King from 1975 with Michael Caine. Both
actors regarded it as their favorite film collaboration.
Such a great film. And the second, Robin and
Marion from 1976, opposite the great Audrey Hepburn.
And Robin and Marion allowed Connery to explore
a mature, reflective, romantic leading role,
which was so far removed from the youthful action
star. Critic Roger Ebert praised the profound
chemistry between Connery and Hepburn, observing
that they glowed together. Yeah, he said they
truly seemed like two people still deeply in
love after decades. This proved his capacity
to carry serious romantic and dramatic weight.
Now, we absolutely must address the film that
is perhaps the most audacious artistic statement
of his mid -career, the infamous sci -fi thriller
Zardoz in 1974. Ah, Zardoz. Zardoz is the ultimate
middle finger to the Bond persona. It really
is. It is known primarily for its shocking costume,
the Scarlet Mancini, and its sheer narrative
absurdity. Connery actively sought out the most
jarring non -bond role possible, embracing the
ridiculousness as this defiant artistic statement
against being permanently trapped in sophistication.
was initially panned, wasn't it? I mean, some
critics labeled it one of the worst movies ever
made, but the deeper context is what really matters
here. Exactly. It has since developed a massive
cult following, but the insight offered by the
director, John Borman, is key. He noted that
Connery was a man of great depth and intelligence,
and that he actually wrote poetry in his free
time while filming. So here's a man in a scarlet
loincloth flexing his dramatic muscles and writing
poetry, actively trying to confound expectations.
You've got it. He also embraced quirky supporting
roles, like playing Agamemnon in Terry Gilliam's
fantasy epic Time Bandits in 1981. That casting
decision was actually based on a joke that was
written into the script. The character was described
as removing his mask and being Sean Connery or
someone of equal but cheaper stature. And Connery
read it, loved the irreverence, and happily agreed
to play the part. He was clearly comfortable
leveraging his own iconic status for self -deprecating
humor. This whole period of seeking diverse roles,
it culminated in a significant critical triumph.
The European production of The Name of the Rose
in 1986. That film was pivotal. It arguably revived
his interest in commercial material by validating
his serious acting credentials. He won a BAFTA
award for best actor, proving he could lead a
sophisticated drama outside the Hollywood system.
And this success immediately preceded his next
chapter of global commercial hits. It's also
the year he established his late career archetype.
By taking a supporting role as the older, wise
mentor in Highlander in 1986, he found the formula
that would define his final two decades of enormous
success. So the BAFTA win provided the perfect
momentum for his true Hollywood comeback. He
proved he was critically bankable and everything
aligned perfectly for his Oscar triumph in 1987
with The Untouchables. In The Untouchables, he
starred as the grizzled, hard -nosed Irish -American
cop Jim Malone alongside Kevin Costner's Elliot
Ness. The role just utilized both the Edinburgh
grit and the refined dramatic skills he had honed
with Sidney Lumet. It was a tremendous success,
blending high -quality filmmaking with box office
appeal. And the performance finally secured him
the industry's highest honor. The Academy Award
for Best Supporting Actor. Which made him the
first Scottish actor to win a major Oscar. He
also took home the Golden Globes for Best Supporting
Actor for that role. And the performance was
universally praised. Critic Roger Ebert highlighted
exactly why it was so powerful. He noted that
Connery brings a human element to his character.
When he's on screen, we can believe, briefly,
that the Prohibition era was inhabited by real
people, not caricatures. He brought depth to
what could have so easily been a caricature.
And this success cemented his late career archetype.
The tough, wise, often grizzled mentor who steals
the scene from the younger protagonist. Which
led immediately to one of his most beloved roles,
Henry Jones Sr., Indy's father in Indiana Jones
and the Last Crusade in 1989. That dynamic was
pure gold. Harrison Ford later emphasized that
Connery wasn't just hired to read the lines.
He made deep contributions during the writing
stage, adding complexity and value to the character
and the script. He just elevated the entire project.
He earned BAFTA and Golden Globe nominations
for that performance as well. And this era delivered
consistent box office success. The Hunt for Red
October in 1990, where he played the Russian
submarine captain. The Rock in 96, which solidified
his partnership with director Michael Bay. A
surprising but effective partnership. Very. And
it earned him an MTV Movie Award nomination for
Best Duo with Nicolas Cage. And then Entrapment
in 1999. Even his voice work, like playing Draco
the Dragon in Dragonheart in 96, showed that
his presence could elevate fantasy material.
But the sources make it clear that the later
years were characterized both by massive hits
and highly visible misses, which led to his eventual
retirement. Right. He continued to receive positive
reviews for films like Finding Forrester in 2000,
where he returned to that mentor role. However,
the critical and commercial disappointments included
the highly panned film version of The Avengers
in 1998 and, most significantly, The League of
Extraordinary Gentlemen in 2003. And that 2003
film based on the graphic novel was the absolute
breaking point. It was the experience that ultimately
ended his acting career. It was profoundly frustrating
for him. The sources recount that Connery sensed
the production was going off the rails during
shooting. He was highly critical of the director,
Stephen Norrington, and later suggested that
the director would have been arrested for insanity
if he hadn't left the UK. Strong words. Very.
He spent significant stressful effort trying
to salvage the film during editing, but the experience
was so negative, the disillusionment so profound,
that he just decided to retire from acting rather
than endure that level of stress and incompetence
again. And this brings us to the roles he turned
down, which are now legendary in Hollywood lore,
and they provide the perfect counterpoint to
his deliberate retirement. The massive rejection
was, of course, the role of Gandalf in the Lord
of the Rings films. So why did he turn down a
role that was so clearly a global phenomenon
in the making? His reason was famously pragmatic
and consistent with the principle he applied
to Hitchcock decades earlier. He stated simply
that he did not understand the script. He didn't
get it. He didn't get it. Yeah. He was unwilling
to commit to a massive time consuming project
where he didn't grasp. the narrative or his place
within it. And the financial cost of that commitment
to comprehension was just staggering. He was
offered a salary of U .S. $30 million, plus a
staggering 15 % of the worldwide box office receipts.
If you do the math, that potentially cost him
around U .S. $450 million. It's one of the most
financially momentous artistic rejections in
history. And he applied the same logic to other
huge fantasy franchises. He turned down Albus
Dumbledore in the Harry Potter series and the
Architect in the Matrix trilogy. He confirmed
his retirement officially when he received the
AFI Lifetime Achievement Award in 2006, citing
his disillusionment with the idiots now making
films in Hollywood. That statement just encapsulates
his frustration, doesn't it? He was an actor
of integrity who was tired of dealing with incompetence,
even if it cost him half a billion dollars. Exactly.
He did briefly come out of retirement in 2012
to voice the title character in the Scottish
animated film Sir Billy. where he also served
as an executive producer, but his major screen
career had definitively ended years prior. Okay,
let's shift our focus now to his complex personal
life and the political identity that so often
put him at odds with the British establishment.
In his early life, he had several notable relationships.
There was Carol Sopel, a Jewish woman, and their
relationship ended because her family reportedly
warned him off. He also deeded Julie Hamilton,
who initially thought his appearance was... Appalling.
Appalling. Yes. But that comment drastically
changed the moment she saw him wearing a kilt,
which instantly transformed her perception of
his masculinity and charm. The power of the kilt.
His first marriage was to the Australian actress
Diane Salento from 1962 to 1973. They had one
son, the actor Jason Connery. This period, however,
is marked by significant controversy that really
haunted him for decades. It is. Salento alleged
mental and physical abuse during their relationship
in her 2006 autobiography. And this put a spotlight
on controversial statements Connery had made
much earlier in his career. The most frequently
cited comments came from a 1965 Playboy interview
where he suggested he didn't think there was
anything particularly wrong in hitting a woman.
And then later, in the 1993 Vanity Fair interview,
he seemed to double down, speaking of women looking
for the ultimate confrontation and wanting a
smack. Now, it is important to impartially report
the complexity of his response to this controversy
over time. These statements caused immense public
backlash, and they led to him eventually addressing
the issue years later. Yes, he provided an unequivocal
retraction in 2006. He stated very clearly, I
don't believe that any level of abuse of women
is ever justified under any circumstances. Full
stop. However, the controversy remains strong
enough that he canceled an appearance at the
Scottish Parliament that same year. We have to
report these claims and retractions as they appear
in the source material, acknowledging this very
sensitive aspect of his legacy. His second marriage
proved much more enduring. He married the French
Moroccan painter Micheline Roquebrune in 1975,
and they remained together until his death. She
was the one who famously provided the title for
Never Say Never Again. Beyond his marriages,
Connery had defining hobbies, most famously golf.
Oh, his love for golf was profound and lifelong.
He was introduced to the game by his friend Ian
Stewart. That iconic golf scene in Goldfinger
was meticulously prepared for. He had lessons.
He did. Peter Alice, the English professional
golfer, gave him lessons specifically before
filming. He even popularized a particular fashion
statement, the light gray Marl Schlesinger V
-neck sweater. Jack Nicklaus himself described
him as a pretty darn good golfer. Let's turn
now to the political identity that ran deeper
than any of his acting roles. His staunch support
for the Scottish National Party, or SNP. Right.
The SNP is the political party that campaigns
explicitly for Scottish independence from the
United Kingdom. And Connery was a lifelong vocal
supporter. His interest was reportedly sparked
when he directed and presented the 1967 documentary
The Bowler and the Bunnet. Which was about what?
It was about industrial relations in the Glasgow
shipyards. He saw the potential for a self -governing
Scotland through that project. And he supported
the SNP both financially and through personal
campaigning. In 1967, he wrote to an SNP candidate
expressing his firm belief that Scotland was
more than capable of building a prosperous, vigorous
and modern self -governing Scotland. His political
advocacy was so strong that it actively interfered
with his public life. Sources confirm that his
knighthood, which he deeply desired, was reportedly
vetoed twice by the British government due to
his fervent political activities. And his financial
support for the SNP only ceased in 2001 because
UK legislation prohibited overseas funding of
political activities. This brings us to the inevitable
controversy surrounding his residency status.
He relocated to the Bahamas in the 1990s. And
the accusation that he was a tax exile followed
him for years. In 2003, he released documents
showing he had paid millions in UK taxes between
1997 and 2003 to counter the claims. But critics
correctly noted that the amount was far lower
than what he would have paid had he continuously
resided in the UK for tax purposes. The relocation
was clearly motivated by tax benefits. And the
implication of this tax status was significant.
particularly for his political involvement. His
own brother noted that his tax exile status legally
limited the number of days Connery could spend
in Scotland, meaning he couldn't actively participate
in the 2014 Scottish independence referendum
campaign. Wow. Despite all that political friction,
the knighthood finally came through in 2000.
Queen Elizabeth II knighted him at Holyrood Palace.
And fittingly, he wore his mother's McGlean clan
tartan kilt, a powerful symbol of his reconciliation
with the establishment, while still retaining
his distinct Scottish identity. Connery died
in his sleep on October 31, 2020, at age 90 in
the Bahamas. His son confirmed he had been unwell,
and his widow revealed he had suffered from dementia
in his final years. The cause of death was listed
as pneumonia and respiratory failure. In a final
act of devotion to his homeland, his ashes were
scattered in Scotland at undisclosed locations
in 2022, fulfilling his final wish to be returned
home. The tributes poured in from across the
globe, including from every surviving Bond actor,
Leeson B., Dalton, Brosnan and Craig, and close
colleagues like Harrison Ford and Michael Caine.
The Bond producers released a joint statement
emphasizing that Connery had revolutionized the
world with his portrayal of 007 and was largely
responsible for the franchise's enduring success.
If we connect all this to the bigger picture,
Connery's entire career arc demonstrates not
just immense raw talent and charisma, but this
And the public acknowledged this dichotomy. They
voted him the greatest living Scott in 2004 and
People magazine's sexiest man of the century
in 1999. And his legacy continues to evolve.
rooted so deeply in his Edinburgh origins. As
recently as 2024, the Edinburgh International
Film Festival established the Sean Connery Prize
for Feature Filmmaking Excellence. It cements
the idea that the city never forgot Big Tam.
What a phenomenal journey marked by just so many
contradictions. We saw the Edinburgh milkman
and bodyguard forged in working class grit, transformed
into the definition of cinematic coolness through
sheer determination and Robert Henderson's tutelage.
Yet he spent the peak of his career fiercely
battling against the constraints of that very
success. He used Bond as a launchpad, but his
greatest critical achievements came when he explicitly
sought out roles that challenged the suave image,
whether that was embracing the ridiculousness
of the Scarlet Mancini in Zardoz or confronting
Hitchcock's agent about needing to read the script.
His Oscar was a reward for prioritizing substance
over comfort. And that strategic commitment to
artistic integrity is perhaps best summarized
by his famous rejection. He turned down the role
of Gandalf because he didn't understand the script,
costing him a potential U .S. $450 million. It's
an astonishing moment where artistic principle
definitively outweighed financial security. So
what does this all mean for you, the listener?
Connery's career shows the immense strategic
cost of artistic integrity. His decision was
based on a simple, consistent principle, refusing
to be involved in a project if he couldn't intellectually
grasp and contribute to it. This raises an important
question. In your own field, how do you decide
between a project that offers enormous, almost
unthinkable financial security versus a project
that genuinely challenges and satisfies your
intellectual or creative standards? Where do
you draw the line between strategic risk and
regrettably accepting a role you fundamentally
don't believe in? believe in, something to mull
over until our next deep dive.