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Modern
Screen April 1965
HOW
TO KEEP THE SEXIEST MAN IN THE WORLD VERY, VERY HAPPY!!!
There’s
one woman who knows all about what thrills and delights
that delicious male, Sean Connery.
“I
know that women the world over must say I’m crazy to
take this chance,” Diane Cilento once said to me as she
watched her husband leave for a location trip to Spain.
“But then, I’m lucky! For he invariably comes
back to me and he’s all mine.”
Blonde, green-eyed Diane sounded very confident as
we spoke in London a while ago.
And she, seemingly, had a right to be sure of her
husband’s devotion.
For, since he married, Sean Connery is no longer
the avid girl-chaser he once was.
And I remembered something Sean once said.
Talking about his role as James Bond, he talked
about himself too.
“All the girls still want to make love to him
(Bond) but he doesn’t need to make love to all of them.
At first it was I who had to model myself on James
Bond….But now I am making Bond more like me.
And I’m a chap nowadays, anyway, who still likes
all the girls but doesn't necessarily have to have all the
girls.
"I guess I'm trying to make James Bond grow up
a little-in the same way I'm growing up myself." And
he added with a sardonic grin: "Definitely not too
much, though. That would spoil the fun for both of
us."
A positive statement of fidelity-but not too
positive.
And now I was visiting the Connerys in Rome where
Diane was making The Agony and the Ecstasy. I sat in the
dining room of their rented villa just outside the city
and watched Sean feed his son, Jason. It would be
interesting to see the life he lived with his family and
the bonds that kept the most desired man in the world with
his wife.
"Jason,
my son," Sean said with a mellow grin on his rugged
face, "Let's try and do it right this time..."
Whereupon he picked up the plate with the tiny
pieces of cut-up meat and resumed feeding his son, morsel
by morsel, from a spoon. Jason, all of 20 months old, was
strapped into a high baby chair which stood next to the
kitchen table. Connery watched the pieces disappear in the
little boy's mouth, nodding approval each time the mouth
chewed well and swallowed. The child had straw-blond hair,
so light in shade it was almost luminous, and big light
blue eyes. Sean surveyed him with the contented look of a
very, very proud father.
I felt like an agent provocateur.
Outside the terracotta-pink villa Diane Cilento had
been posing for photographers. They had started with
"just a few" two hours earlier. They had taken
full possession of her and would not let her go except for
the costume changes that they sweet- talked her into every
so often.
It was not difficult to provoke her towering,
gruff, handsome husband into action. He had felt gruff all
morning. The photographers had not been allowed into the
house but they had made Diane their willing
hostage-outside the villa. There was no doubt about it.
She enjoyed posing for those pictures and being told how
beautiful she was. She had just had her hair dyed back to
its original blond, following a long stretch as the
dark-haired Contessina de Medici in her new film. She was
being herself again. For a while, Sean watched the scene
from the second story terrace. He was clad in a short
black Japanese kimono and nothing whatever under it. This
embarrassed Diane who sent up a warning, but not him.
Eventually he grew tired of the spectacle below and
yelled, "Enough, boys." He went back into the
house, to change into a sweater and khaki pants for lunch.
When, half an hour later, his wife was still outside, he
suddenly grew angry. His face darkened and he strode
outside.
Whether he threw the men with the cameras bodily
off the estate, or just took his wife by her arm and
walked her off, I did not know. I had finished the beer
and had wandered off into the laundry room next to the
kitchen. A woman wearing glasses, a multiple strand of
pearls dangling from her neck, was bending over the tub
rinsing freshly washed baby clothes. There was the
unmistakable air of grandmother about her and so I said,
"You must be Mrs. Connery." Sean's folks are
nice and simple Edinburgh people. His father still insists
on driving the lorry the way he has all his life.
I had made a mistake. She looked up from the wash
basin, her hands dripping with soap water, a faint smile
on her somewhat stern face. "No, I am not Mrs.
Connery," she said firmly. "I am Lady Cilento."
I had picked the wrong grandmother. We remained in the
laundry chatting about Diane's wonderful baby.
Not many of James Bond's feminine admirers realize
that there is a Mrs. James Bond. He may well look like the
perfect bachelor, the lady-killer, the suave lover. But in
real life, Sean Connery is a man very much in love with
his dainty, blond, green-eyed wife, and very lonely indeed
when she is not with him. For she understands him and
knows how to make him happy.
The last time I saw Sean Connery, his chiseled
profile surveying the local scenery with just enough
disdain, was in Hollywood. He came to do the Alfred
Hitchcock picture, Marnie and at first he was alone.
Then Diane arrived. While alone in Hollywood, Sean
lived by himself in an expensive if shabby little
apartment at the Chateau Marmont on the Sunset Strip. He
took his meals in a restaurant around the corner.
By the time Diane and her two children were about
to land, he had rented an elegant mansion, with swimming
pool and the usual Hollywood accoutrements of good living.
"That's what I mean," Diane told me as
Sean looked on. "That's what it is being married to
James Bond. That very same evening he came back to our new
home from the studio and said, 'Okay, what do we have for
dinner tonight?' It was as though we had never been
separated or that we had never lived in any other place
but this villa in Beverly Hills. So I gave him his dinner.
We didn't talk much. He was being the typical
husband-tired and quite untalkative about a long and hard
day at the office....
"Hollywood is quite pretty but rather
boring," Diane continued. "And people don't
respect privacy. I had a terrible time with snoopers. They
were armed with binoculars, and they'd climb up the
hillside to watch me swim in our swimming pool. As though
they had never seen a swimming pool in their lives."
What Diane didn't mention was that it wasn't the
pool that was the attraction. They had rarely been treated
to the sight of a beautiful girl with all the curves in
the right places taking a swim in her birthday suit.
"The point was," she reflected with a pout,
"that I don't like the touch of a wet swimsuit. I
always prefer to swim without one. Try it some time and
you'll appreciate the difference. I told Sean about it
that night. No, he didn't grab his gun and set out to
catch the man," she smiled happily. "Maybe James
Bond would have but Sean didn't. He simply shook his head
and muttered about my being still so naive. Was he angry?
Well, he didn't yell at me if that is what you mean.
"Sean has the ability to suppress his
anger," she insisted. "It doesn't show on his
face all too obviously, but it does grow dark when he's
mad, deep inside, and his face muscles sort of twitch a
bit. Still, I don't think he lost his temper twice since
we've been married. He makes a point of appearing
perfectly controlled. Which makes me want to
scream...."
Had she? Screamed? Beautiful Mrs. Connery, her
green eyes looked at me in silent reproach. "No, no,
no." But it appeared more like "yes, yes,
yes," especially in the light of her next
disclosures. Sean was too much of the even-tempered
husband for his wife not to blow a fuse. "He is so
very quiet at home," she said almost apologetically,
"and very considerate. And of course he loves the
children." He has treated Giovanna, her
seven-year-old from her first marriage to Andrea Volpi, as
if she were his own. Their son, Jason, was born January
11, 1963. "Sean is an excellent father. But he's also
the typical husband who kicks off his shoes the moment he
steps inside the house, his haven.
"Sean always kicks off his shoes when he comes
home. He remains barefooted for the rest of the evening.
He doesn't like shoes. He may spend the whole weekend
around the house without putting on his shoes once....
"Of course, James Bond would never do
that," she grinned mischievously. "Also,"
she said happily, "he eats more than anyone I know.
That man has the appetite of a dozen truck drivers. Cook
and I are always prepared for that when we sit down for
dinner at home. There's always enough for a second
helping, and a third and a fourth, just in case our man
asks for more.
"And he does...."
And like many men too tired at night to talk to
their wives, this real life James Bond settles down
happily in front of the television set, a glass of beer in
his hand. "He loves television," Diane said.
"He can sit in front of the telly for hours.... It
relaxes him, he says."
Sean looked at her appreciatively as she talked.
Here was a woman who knew how to let him be.
The James Bonds were about to face a new real life
adventure and from where Sean sat things looked more than
encouraging. The Hill, a war picture for which he was to
be paid half a million dollars, was to be followed by yet
another Bond movie. In fact, the Bond movies had proven
such a success that he could make as many more as he
wished. If Woman of Straw and Marnie, in which he tried
his hand at different roles, had not proved money makers
at the box office, they had not detracted from his drawing
power as Bond. Thousands of fan letters pouring in from
allover the world were ample proof of that.
Diane was not doing so badly either even though she
had lost the coveted role of Moll Flanders to Kim Novak.
Sean had agreed to play opposite Diane in that movie, but
the project came to naught because of Diane's previous
commitments. Diane had set her heart on the role. She
cried her eyes out and Sean dutifully withdrew his offer
to play the leading man in The Amorous Adventures of Moll
Flanders. Then to make up for the disappointment, Fox
agreed to back the movie, Call Me When The Cross Turns
Over which they would do together-their first co-starring
film.
On this day in the villa facing a picturesque
Italian countryside, the air filled with the scent of
flowers, it appeared to me that Mr. and Mrs. James Bond
were one couple with few legitimate complaints. And, as
they contemplated the spaghetti and veal, and the Chianti,
they seemed very much at ease. "You know," I
said, "it's nice to see you two look so happy!"
I put no special meaning into it, and let them interpret
the remark any way they liked. They smiled. Lady Cilento
smiled. Earlier in the laundry room we had joked about the
real James Bond home, and Lady Cilento observed how little
he needed to be happy. No guns with silencers; no blondes
on deadly missions; no redheads....Just a hungry baby
named Jason-and a wife named Diane.
Diane
began reflecting on the strange bonanza, almost
unprecedented in the history of cinematography, that had
fallen into her actor-husband's lap. "Did you
know," she spoke huskily, "that were it not for
me he might never have become James Bond?"
"How come?"
"Well, when they offered him the role of Bond
in the first picture, Dr. No, he asked me what to do. To
take it or not to take it? We weren't married yet but we
were very close and Sean took my advice." (For the
record, they had met when signed to do Anna Lucasta on
London television four years earlier and liked each other
instantly. She had left Volpi, her impetuous 1954 marriage
at 20 to the young Italian, an admitted mistake.)
"Sean wasn't sure he should take the role. I
suggested that he insist on their putting more humor into
the story. I thought this was the only way to escape the
obvious corn. So Sean went back to them and told them
that.
"Well, they swallowed it. And a week later
they called Sean. They were ready to sign.
Diane's role in the shaping of Secret Agent 007
didn't end there. "I've been cueing him ever
since," she said pleasantly. "In fact I can say
I've played just about every part in Dr. No and in From
Russia With Love and I still remember most of the
dialogue." She did that while helping him go over the
script at home.
Still, she never did that on a movie set. "I
rarely visit Sean during filming. Nor does he come to the
studio when I'm working. There's all the time in the world
when we get home." During the filming of Marnie she
visited him on the set but when photographers asked them
to pose for pictures, they were told-no pictures. It
wouldn't go well with the James Bond image. The same
happened during the filming of Goldfinger.
By this time I had come to the inescapable
conclusion that young Diane Cilento knows what she is
doing. She knows exactly how to make herself absolutely
indispensable to her man. She is also a very ambitious
young woman, her heart set on acting in every shape and
form. She loves playing Mrs. Sean Connery, but she also
loves the role of Diane Cilento.
She knows that she has more experience and is more
talented than James Bond. And, make no mistake about it,
he knows it too. As actors go, Mr. Sean Connery, the lad
from Edinburgh whose Scottish brogue is still as heavy as
the autumn rain slashing the Scottish lochs when he is not
before cameras, is very much the do-it-yourself type. He
is the former milkman, coffin-polisher and football player
turned thespian. His formal education is close to nil. He
comes from the bottom rung of the social ladder. Diane, on
the other hand, is the daughter of a famous Australian
knighted for his contribution to tropical medicine, a
former member of the Australian delegation to the United
Nations. Her mother is a noted gynaecologist and of her
five brothers and sisters, four are doctors, and one is an
artist. She attended two acting academies, the American
Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York at 15, and the Royal
Academy in London after that.
Diane Cilento has appeared in more TV plays than
she cares to remember, on the stage, in movies; and she
has produced stage presentations and written and
translated plays. At 30, she's a veteran and, of course,
an all-out professional. Yet she got expelled from the
Royal Academy, and she eked out a meager living working in
a London wine shop and later in the Bertram Mills circus
for about five pounds a week rather than accept an
allowance from her wealthy parents.
.Somehow
one would not imagine so fiercely independent a girl would
share a roof with a James Bond, but then, as she candidly
reminds you, Sean is not James Bond. All that is movie
make believe. Yet, she is as concerned over his success as
he is. "We both read the James Bond fan mail, in
search of clues as to the secret of his popularity. We
want to understand it." She refuses to be jealous of
his fame even though it seems to indicate that the magic
of success does not hinge on talent and experience. On the
other hand, she worries much more than he over the strange
fiasco of his two recent sallies into different
portrayals. Why did he fail in Woman of Straw and Marnie?
What went wrong? She knows that unless The Hill is a
success, Sean will have proved himself a one-role actor.
This will hurt her more than him.
Lunch was finished and Diane was dashing off to the
studio for a last minute dubbing job. Sean would stay
behind, and maybe drive over to the country club for a
round of golf. In the evening they would give a little
party for her co-actors and that would more or less wind
up their stay in Italy. Sean Connery carried Jason into
the nursery upstairs, his muscular arms hugging the little
boy, his tattoo looming big and strong over a mighty
triceps.
I left the villa in Rome then and knew it would be
a while before I saw the Connerys again. As my car drove
away I turned just in time to see Sean and Diane embracing
as they walked indoors.
I knew that, like all married couples, they had
their problems. But they also had happiness. They knew the
right things to give each other.
HENRY
GRIS
Diane
stars in THE AGONY AND THE ECSTASY for 20th. Sean stars in
THE HILL for MGM.
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