As a change of pace from unorthodox character roles, Bogarde accepted a part as a CIA head in Permission to Kill (1975), to work again with his friend Ava Gardner. Fifteen years earlier, the two had appeared in a misguidedly glamorous production of The Angel Wore Red. He and Gardner had hopes that Permission to Kill would be more realistic than others of the genre: ‘We thought it had something to say about major powers finding a voice through minor organizations, so we removed the stereotypes and the clichés. Instead of the lovers watching the dictator’s plane taking off into the sunset, now the thing blows up. That’s how it is, the CIA always wins.’ (Castell, October 1975, 58) Unfortunately, the film became a clichéd view of amoral Western intelligence men and glorified revolutionaries. The flat CIA character offered Bogarde little challenge and did zero for his dossier except to serve as a brief break from complex roles.

Still writing and tending his farm in France, he continued to look for roles in intelligent films, which were not blockbusters, but gems that in the end resonated with his audience and critics. He did not shy away from taking on provocative, daring roles, often playing characters light years away from his matinée-idol roles, which were built on his good looks.

Yet writing had become increasingly alluring: ‘Nothing could be more fleeting than a movie . . . but a novel is mine. It’s not dependent on directors or actors.’ (Anderson, C7) He could still be lured out by a good script or infrequently to earn a pay-cheque. In his usual witty, irreverent way, he commented to one interviewer: ‘Of course I will work again. Ten acres of land cost more to support that I had realized. I work all day scything the fields. Someone has to do it if the sheep don’t eat it, and this year the bastards didn’t turn up.’ (Castell, June 1974, 387)