The name is Bond. James Bond.
No one rolled those words off the tongue quite like Pierce Brosnan. With a raised eyebrow and a martini in hand, he resurrected a tired franchise in the mid-1990s that was starting to look like a relic of the Cold War. Then, for a while, he was the very definition of suave; he was the Bond franchise. And then, just like that, he wasn’t.
Here’s the thing about Brosnan: For every GoldenEye, there has been a Pan Bahar. Yes, that Pan Bahar — the 2016 ad in which our dashing super spy was suddenly peddling a tin of tobacco substitute, staring out from hoardings across India as if the Aston Martin had been swapped for an autorickshaw in the indignities of fading stardom. Brosnan protested that he had been duped, but the damage was done. The sophistication of 007 sat uneasily with a tin of pan masala in our minds. Bond, pardon me, lost his licence to kill.
If that episode suggested a fading star, the current moment proves otherwise. It’s 2025, and Brosnan is suddenly… everywhere again. His turn in Guy Ritchie’s gangster series MobLand, accent controversies aside, proved he still has bite. As Ron, he is one of the star attractions of The Thursday Murder Club, adapted from Richard Osman’s best-selling detective novel (2020). This is a second act (not a comeback) so audacious it feels like something out of one of Brosnan’s own movies.
Ageing in Hollywood is a double-edged sword. For men, at least, it can mean grizzled gravitas and “one last ride” roles; for women, the opportunities are thinner and crueler. But even for male stars, the truth is unflinching: The body slows down, the franchises roll on, and audiences — raised on youth, speed and Marvel IP — are fickle.
Brosnan knows this terrain. Once you’ve been Bond, the only direction is down. For some, the descent is quiet; for others, it is brutal, a fall from red carpets to commercial billboards that no amount of irony can soften.
What makes this resurgence compelling is that Brosnan doesn’t shy away from age. “I have become [an old-age pensioner],” he admitted in a recent interview with The Independent.
Look at his peers. Harrison Ford, still strapping on the fedora at 80, just about convinced us he was Indiana Jones one last time, thanks to CGI de-ageing and the forgiving haze of nostalgia. Sylvester Stallone, 79, has been scrambling to keep up, playing the same roles (Rocky, Rambo) in multiple reboots and spin-offs. Arnold Schwarzenegger still straps on ammo belts. Admirable, perhaps, but sometimes faintly absurd.
Reinvention, though, is a subtler art. And it’s where Brosnan scores over many of his contemporaries. Instead of desperately clinging to Bond’s tux, he has embraced age with humour, warmth, and the willingness to play against type. Brosnan proves you don’t need to be running up mountains at 75 to stay relevant, you just need the courage to pivot.
Hollywood is littered with once-huge stars now relegated to straight-to-streaming obscurity. Stardom is fickle currency; it depreciates quickly. Studios, wary of risk, cling to familiar faces, even as they claim there are “no new movie stars”. The result is a landscape where septuagenarians prop up billion-dollar IPs while younger actors struggle to break through without a superhero cape. So, when in doubt, call a former Bond.
That’s what makes Brosnan’s present moment so fascinating: He has managed, against odds, to vault himself back into a franchise machine, while carrying his age with charm rather than apology.
It’s a long way from tangoing with Famke Janssen on a casino floor, but it works. This is, after all, a man who has weathered every stage of celebrity. The con artist of Remington Steele. The daredevil of Bond. The embarrassing face of Pan Bahar. And now, the elder statesman of the quirky whodunit. Brosnan’s career has been less a straight martini and more a cocktail mixed from whatever was behind the bar. But somehow, it’s always gone down smoothly. The Thursday Murder Club may lack the glamour of Bond, but it does have one thing going for it: Brosnan back at the centre of the cultural conversation. His first Bond revived a dying franchise. His latest role might just do the same for his legacy.
stela.dey@indianexpress.com
