He sat across from Barbara Broccoli with a folder of rough ideas and a quiet insistence. The room tightened; you could feel a franchise’s rules being tested. I remember thinking: if anyone could make Bond feel dangerous and intimate again, it might be him.
I’m Steven Soderbergh’s kind of movie fan: skeptical, curious, and allergic to franchise blandness. You and I have both read the headlines about the rejected Star Wars pitch. What I want to do here is walk you through the other pitch he tried to sell—two of them, actually—and why they still matter for how we imagine 007.
At a small Q&A Soderbergh once described his pitch and how it split into two distinct offers
Soderbergh didn’t just hand over one outline. He offered Barbara Broccoli two different ways to move the franchise: a 1960s, low-budget, R-rated alternate Bond and a contemporary Daniel Craig–era film he would also direct. He told The Playlist that he’d only take the job if both films were greenlit—“both, or neither,” he said—and yes, he admitted that was a little aggressive.
That 2008 pitch was meant to be a parallel franchise: think of Bond as a pair of intersecting lines rather than a single highway. The period idea, he said, would be violent, sexy, and intimate—more auteur than tentpole. It got interest, but not close enough to move forward.
At screenings people whisper about an alternate history of Bond and whether it could change the franchise
Soderbergh imagined a “hardcore auteur, low-budget, period Bond.” That’s not a phrase you hear in the same breath as gadgets and global stakes, and that was the point. He wanted the character stripped back—closer to a cold operation than a glitzy product—and he thought the 1960s offered tonal permission.
He also revisited the idea after Skyfall, with a “twofer” proposal: the 60s film plus a Daniel Craig–era picture he would direct. Tony Gilroy later confirmed they almost worked on a Bond idea together, which sounds like it overlaps with Soderbergh’s second push. If you’ve followed Bond lore online, you’ll know fans crave both a retro take and something that honors Craig’s grit—Soderbergh’s proposal would have been both a door and a mirror.
Did Steven Soderbergh pitch a James Bond movie?
Yes. He pitched Barbara Broccoli at least twice: once in 2008 for the period piece and again later with a companion Craig-era project. He told The Playlist he would only take the job if both films moved forward together, which is likely why producers hesitated.
At an awards afterparty you overhear producers describe risk in dry, fiscal terms
Studios measure risk by balance sheets and brand contours. Soderbergh was offering aesthetic risk—the kind that can fracture attention and, if it succeeds, reshape how future directors approach the character. Think of it as swapping a luxury watch for a military chronograph; both tell time, but one suggests a different life. That metaphor is deliberate: he wanted Bond to feel lived-in, sometimes ugly, rarely clean.
That idea resonates with how franchises behave today. Amazon’s involvement with Bond-related projects and IO Interactive’s separate 007: First Light show how properties can split into distinct creative streams. A period-film lane could have been an invitation for other auteurs to play in the sandbox, though Soderbergh says that wasn’t his primary motive.
What was Soderbergh’s idea for a 1960s Bond?
He described it as violent, sexy, and R-rated—smaller scale, more personal. He wanted to treat Bond like a period crime thriller, with practical production choices that felt authentic to the era. It was an auteur’s attempt to make the spy world feel more human and less productized.
On the street you’ll hear fans argue that two Bonds are already happening
Today the franchise ecosystem looks less monolithic: games, streaming shows, and distinct cinematic universes can coexist. You can point to Amazon’s new Bond initiatives and IO Interactive’s separate game timeline as evidence. Soderbergh’s “two Bonds” idea feels less theoretical now because the market is already fragmenting into multiple, simultaneous takes.
I asked myself what Soderbergh’s presence would have changed. Directors like him force studios to answer a single question: are you making stories for the widest possible audience, or for new kinds of trust between director and viewer? The answer shifts whether Bond remains a franchise machine or becomes a field for creative experiments—an old record player spinning a new groove, if you prefer that image.
Would Soderbergh have directed a Daniel Craig-era Bond?
Yes. Part of his pitch was to direct both the period piece and a contemporary Craig-era film. He wanted narrative and tonal control across both projects so they could speak to one another—one backward-looking and raw, the other present-tense and intense.
Barbara Broccoli didn’t greenlight the twofer. The reasons are predictable: financial caution, brand protection, and scheduling. But the conversation Soderbergh started lingers because it highlights two paths for legacy franchises: consolidate into one global image, or split into curated artistic experiments that keep fans guessing.
I’m not asking you to choose a favorite Bond. I am asking whether you want studios to let filmmakers like Soderbergh try risky, tonal experiments with established characters—because if they don’t, other platforms and brands will keep pushing the split-screen model forward and the franchise will change whether you like it or not?