Very sad: a talented, charming, funny and heroic man for all work to help others.
This story posted on Twitter is rather magnificent:
Yes, it shows what a sweet man Roger was. Here's a non-twitter version with some follow-up: http://b3ta.com/blog...-you-feel-good/
I grew up watching Roger's Bond on VHS, and he'll always have a place in my heart. There's a documentary on Roger included with the Blu-Ray of Gold, one of his best non-Bond films (it was directed by Peter Hunt). In it you can see David Niven's son praise Moore as his father's heir and an underrated player of light comedy.
Remembering this makes me realize that Roger Moore was the last of his kind--the suave, unflappable, lighthearted, kindly, and very English gentlemen, in a line with Niven and Cary Grant. There's no one acting today with Roger's savoir faire. He was first to deprecate his gifts, and they're still not fully appreciated: You need talent to project dapper aplomb and skill to play with light touch. Roger did far more than lift an eyebrow--he savored his roles as he played them, knowing when to step outside character to highlight an irony and deploy his charm, that playful complicity with the audience.
Bond would not have survived the 1970s without moving in a more comedic and lighthearted direction, and Roger was the best man for the job. He said The Spy Who Loved Me was his favorite, perhaps because he made the role his own in it. His first two Bond films were still in the Diamonds Are Forever mode--movies that didn't believe in themselves--and they made Roger's style look insubstantial and redundant. The Spy Who Loved Me was, despite its humor, a seriously-done epic, and it allowed Roger to pit his detachment and ironic commentary against the movie's monster-size scale and drama. And when the later Bond films floated down to earth, they allowed Roger to tap into his vulnerability--"the spark in his worried, squinched-up eyes" to quote Pauline Kael--and his good-humored warmth.
The latter quality is why some scenes from his first two Bonds, when he's made to imitate Connery, don't work. We don't buy the idea of Moore's Bond slapping a woman, because Roger isn't given to that sort of enraged brutality. Look instead at For Your Eyes Only, at the scene where he kicks Locque's car off a cliff. His anger is controlled, the usual ironic detachment transmuted to icy, calm vengefulness. The scene is so fine it reminds you how good some of his films could have been if they'd given Roger more material of that strength, more opportunities to act with sober coolness. You can also find it in the scene from The Spy Who Loved Me of him admitting to killing Anya's lover. The detachment behind his usual irony becomes the bedrock for a moment of direct honesty--no quips or raised eyebrows, just the admission of responsibility and a statement of purpose.
All this from an actor who delighted in mocking his own abilities! It's also there in his best non-Bond work--The Man Who Haunted Himself, Gold, Shout at the Devil (also directed by Peter Hunt), ffolkes, and much more. The world is much less charming place without Roger Moore.