There comes a point in every father’s life when he asks the question, “when is it right to demonstrate to your son that you tacitly approve of unrealistic depictions of violence and death and overt womanising?” When you feel that time is nigh, the easiest way to show this is by watching a Bond movie.
I am, of course, being facetious. The Bond movies were an integral part of my growing up. My father loves them, I love them, it seems only right that I introduce my son to them which, to this point, I have not done. He is nine. Every time I previously thought of putting on a Bond movie, I considered the content and realised that I was a little uncomfortable with the relaxed attitude to death and murder, and the casual manner with which Bond treats women. Sure, we can see these things with a pinch of salt and an oh-it’s-of-it’s-time cavalier attitude, but to children taking everything at face value, it poses a dilemma: how is he going to process this, and how is my recommendation of it going to reflect on me?
