Blonde on Bond

Daniel Craig as 007 (click to enlarge)

In Casino Royale (2006), we’re “introduced” to James Bond, a young assassin climbing the ladder to the coveted double-0 license of the British Secret Service. A tough, uncompromising action picture, it’s based on the first of Ian Fleming’s novels—copyright entanglements kept it from the official Bond franchise until now. By admitting the job “has a short life expectancy,” this new Bond (expertly played by Daniel Craig) brings up an interesting possibility: rather than the character’s actual name, shouldn’t “James Bond” be the moniker assigned to the current holder of the 007 license? It would certainly help depersonalized the man, explain the five actors who came before, and clear up the fact that the guy who sent Dr. No to his grave back in 1962 would be in his seventies by now.

    Among the few holdovers from the earlier movies, Judi Dench’s spy chief calls him “a blunt instrument,” and she’s right on the moneypenny. Ordering a vodka martini, he’s asked “stirred or shaken?” and replies, “Do I look like I care?” No, he doesn’t. Craig’s Bond is nearly an automaton, cold, arrogant, a little stupid, barely sophisticated, a reactionary with a chip on his shoulder, having no apparent affinity for art, education, culture or refinement—007 for the Bush generation.

Ivana Milicevic as Valenka (click to enlarge)

    He discovers an underworld bank lending money to terrorist groups through high stakes gambling and stock market scams. After picking up leads around the globe and a love affair with a no-nonsense accountant (Eva Green), Bond arrives at the title spot for a round of multimillion dollar poker with an asthmatic bad guy named Le Chiffre, played with suave menace by Danish actor Mads Mikkelsen. All the while fending off machete-wielding crazies and a bout of cardiac arrest…

    Cultivated in the 1960s and 70s by producers Albert R. Broccoli and Harry Saltzman and writer Richard Maibaum, the Bonds have never been a director’s milieu, but Martin Campbell mixes action, romance and drama better than most—as he demonstrated eleven years ago in Goldeneye (1995). With Barbara Broccoli taking over as producer for her late father, joined by co-producer Michael G. Wilson, the screenwriting team of Neal Purvis, Robert Wade and Paul Haggis bypass the gadgetry and gizmos of past Bonds and concentrate on the meat of Fleming’s book, down to a gruesome torture scene that was the most graphic thing the author ever wrote.

    Although it runs a hefty 144 minutes, the picture never drags. Nearly every moment flies by at fever pitch, from miraculous chases to romantic interludes. Without giving too much away, Bond’s trail leads to the proverbial mansion on the hill. He’s eliminated underlings and kingpins like Le Chiffre for years, but here he goes the distance and collars ‘The Man,’ the guy pulling the strings from an ivory tower. Bravo! It’s high time.

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