Why Ian Fleming Nearly Rejected Sean Connery as Bond

Few fictional figures have left as indelible a mark on popular culture as the British secret agent with a penchant for danger and dry martinis. Over the decades, the role has been reimagined by a string of leading men—Pierce Brosnan, Timothy Dalton, Daniel Craig—each bringing their own quirks to the part. Yet, for many, one name remains synonymous with the character: Sean Connery. His portrayal is often held up as the gold standard, the very image of the suave, unflappable spy.

In recent years, as the franchise has sought new directions following Daniel Craig’s departure, debates have flared up about what—or who—Bond should be. Some have called for a radical rethink, suggesting a woman or a non-binary actor might take up the mantle. Others, more traditional in their outlook, argue that the character’s essence lies in a certain brand of masculinity, and that this should remain untouched. Amidst all this, it’s easy to forget that even the most iconic Bond was once a controversial choice.

Fleming’s Reluctance

Ian Fleming, the man behind the original novels, was not immediately taken with the idea of Connery stepping into Bond’s shoes. In fact, he was rather blunt about it. When asked about his vision for the character, Fleming described him as “an extremely dull, uninteresting man to whom things happened…” The name itself, he revealed, was chosen for its sheer ordinariness:

“One of the bibles of my youth was Birds of the West Indies, by James Bond, a well-known ornithologist, and when I was casting about for a name for my protagonist, I thought, My God, that’s the dullest name I’ve ever heard, so I appropriated it. Now the dullest name in the world has become an exciting one. Mrs Bond once wrote me a letter thanking me for using it.”

When Connery’s name was floated during the casting of Dr. No, Fleming was openly sceptical. He didn’t see the Scottish actor as a natural fit for the role.

“He’s not what I envisioned of James Bond looks. I’m looking for Commander Bond and not an overgrown stunt man.”

The author’s reservations weren’t just about appearance; they reflected a deeper uncertainty about what Bond should represent. Fleming’s original creation was never meant to be a larger-than-life hero, but rather a blank canvas, a man defined by the extraordinary situations he stumbled into.

Transformation on Screen

Connery, with his imposing presence and undeniable charisma, threatened to upend that vision. There was a risk, Fleming feared, that Bond would become too much of a spectacle, losing the understated quality that made him compelling on the page. Yet, as filming progressed, something unexpected happened. Connery’s performance brought a new dimension to the character—an edge of danger, a flash of wit, a sense of authority that audiences found irresistible.

It was this transformation that ultimately secured Bond’s place in cinematic history. Connery managed to bridge the gap between Fleming’s reserved protagonist and the demands of the big screen, creating a figure who was both recognisable and thrillingly new. The character evolved, but never lost the core that made him fascinating in the first place.

Fleming’s Change of Heart

After the film’s release, Fleming’s opinion shifted dramatically. Watching Connery inhabit the role, he recognised qualities he hadn’t anticipated—qualities that, in the end, felt essential to the character’s success. So impressed was he by Connery’s interpretation that he began to weave aspects of the actor’s own background into subsequent stories, subtly reshaping Bond’s history to reflect the man who had brought him to life on screen.

What began as a mismatch between author and actor became, in time, a defining partnership. The Bond we know today owes as much to Connery’s bold reinvention as it does to Fleming’s original blueprint—a reminder that sometimes, the best casting choices are the ones that surprise even their creators.