Connery’s Bond in Never Say Never Again is a revelation. He is not the cocksure, invincible Viking of Goldfinger or the smug caricature he became in Diamonds Are Forever . This Bond is weathered, tired, and visibly out of shape. The film opens not with a stunt sequence, but with Bond at a health clinic in Shrublands, sweating on a treadmill, taking questionable vitamin injections, and failing a psychological evaluation. M, played with magnificent irritation by Edward Fox, tells him bluntly: “You’re a relic of the Cold War, 007. Your methods are obsolete.”

“Retirement’s a rumor,” Bond replied. He kept his gun low, the tense courtesy of a man betting on conversation before violence. “You can still walk away.”

Critics in 1983 were uncertain what to make of Connery. He was not the lean, sneering secret agent of Dr. No or Goldfinger . He was heavier, tanner, and visibly slower. Yet that is precisely the film’s hidden strength.

“You let me,” he countered.

The film is a time capsule of ego, legal absurdity, and creative risk. It is not a great Bond film. It is arguably not even a good Bond film by the standards of Goldfinger or Casino Royale . But it is a fascinating Bond film.

The lack of the "Bond theme" is jarring at first, but Michel Legrand’s score gives it a sophisticated, jazzy feel that fits the "older Bond" narrative perfectly. Plus, the Largo character (Maximilian) is one of the more psychologically complex villains of the era.

Released in 1983, Never Say Never Again remains one of the most fascinating entries in the James Bond series—not because it broke the mold, but because it exists as a "rogue" alternative to the official Eon Productions franchise. It marked the triumphant, final return of Sean Connery to the role of 007 after a 12-year hiatus, effectively competing against Roger Moore’s Octopussy in what the media dubbed the "Battle of the Bonds". The Context: A Legal Loophole Return