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Bond is back (to basics)! We see the young spy achieve double 0 status before causing an international incident with his first mission in Madagascar. But instead of giving him his marching orders, M needs him to enter a high stakes poker game in Montenegro where he has to take on the mysterious Le Chiffre, banker to the world's arms dealers. If he wins, the nefarious number cruncher will be ruined but if he loses, then Her Majesty's government will have actively financed terrorism. And there's the small matter of the Treasury's own accountant - the beautiful Vesper Lynd, who threatens James' heart as well as his loins.
Director Martin Campbell is the go-to guy for reinvigorating the Bond franchise. He did it with Pierce Brosnan's first outing in "Goldeneye" and manages a fine job here. It's a new style of Bond - it's less about the gadgets and girls and more about Bond as a hired killer. He's stripped away all the frivolous fluff to reveal a leaner, meaner killing machine. There are no tongue-in-cheek one-liners, no strings of bikini-clad babes and no Q. The tone is set in the opening minutes, shot in grainy black and white as we cut between Bond's first two kills; one a brutal bout of fisticuffs in a gents' toilets and the other a more sober affair in an office the spy has broken into. It harks back to old-fashioned espionage that is grittier and more realistic than previous outings in the franchise.
Without all the bells and whistles, Bond is a real man, running pell-mell after the bad guys, taking them down with bare-knuckle fights and single shots to the head. It makes him more vulnerable as he comes out of every fight with more and more injuries, grazed, bruised, bleeding and clutching his family jewels after one simple but brutally effective torture scene that will have every man in the audience whimpering in sympathy. He has more personality, engaging on an emotional level with Vesper; wooing her instead of expecting her to jump into bed at the drop of a hat. The romance between the two is the least convincing aspect of the movie, as it is too sudden and too saccharine. Can a man that disengages so readily to kill a man or seduce another's wife be so blind in affairs
of the heart?
I don't want to suggest that Bond has gone soft. If anything, he's harder than ever - displaying derring-do that has been lost in recent outings. The action sequences are still big and bold, but not quite as brash, relying more on brute force than improbable gadgetry. The fights are harder and you feel the punches land, with no-one coming off lightly. There's a feeling that lives are at stake and the set-pieces are integral to the story instead of being set dressing. The post-credits free-running sequence is a breathtaking display of how the human body can almost defy the laws of physics. Craig chases parkour originator Sebastian Foucan around an island paradise before ending up on a building site where he and his adversary scale the skeleton of a building before grappling on a crane two-hundred and fifty feet up. The high-speed car chase and subsequent crash you see in the trailer are even more devastatingly effective with sound and the big stunts at Miami airport go with a bang. These sequences work because Campbell knows how to edit for speed and excitement whilst telling the story and not giving the viewer a headache. He doesn't feel the need to pre-empt them with flourishes of the Bond theme. It keeps the pacing swift and helps to build tension. So you're in for a rip-roaring hundred and forty-four minutes that doesn't scrimp on characterisation or miss out on big explosions and fast cars. However, the opening credits are some of the lamest I've ever scene looking like a cheap gaudy flash animation that's been knocked up by a fifteen year-old.
The screenplay by Neal Purvis, Robert Wade and "Crash" scribe Paul Haggis is the first in a long time to go back to Ian Fleming's source novels. As a result the espionage has more authenticity to it; trying to bring down bombers and money-men rather than cackling villains hell-bent on destroying the earth with giant lasers. Bond's back-up isn't a series of foxy ladies in skimpy clothes working on their own in tropical climes - it's a bunch of average looking people in an office keeping him under surveillance so he doesn't cause embarrassment. M is more of a bureaucrat that has to answer to the powers that be whether she likes it or not. And Bond actually tries to blend in with the crowd so isn't permanently clad in designer suits.
Like the recent "Batman" movie this is a kind of creation story that shows where Bond comes from and how his early experiences as 007 shape the character. He is still cocky and has an eye for the ladies, but he's also prone to mistakes that could kill him and bring disgrace to MI6, costing him his job. But he isn't lascivious or cartoonish - he treats everything as if it is of serious consequence and doesn't mind getting down and dirty to get results. He's not even above breaking into his boss' flat to use her computer. His spy tactics are fairly basic and rely on deception and bare-knuckled beatings to get his information. His relationship with M is more that of a disapproving teacher and her wayward pupil and lacks the over-familiarity that had begun to creep in. In Vesper Lynd he has a woman that is his equal and more than capable of resisting his advances. There's a lovely scene in which they provide snappy sharp-tongued character assassinations of each other. The villain is more human this time round. He may be a banker to the world's terrorists and have a nasty facial disfigurement, but he's also a sweaty, shaking coward that knows how much he has to lose. The dialogue is less jokey than in recent films, but it is salted with nicely-timed, bone-dry quips. There's less emphasis on going for laughs and pointless spy-speak - pretty much everyone says what they mean.
I don't care if Daniel Craig is the first blonde Bond, he's the only one of the actors playing him so far that convinces as a killer. He may be short and stocky, but I'm under no illusions that he could give anyone a good shoeing. He's in the prime of physical fitness, so looks like he could do all those stunts and has cold-eyed intensity that is a neat cipher for dangerous inscrutability. He lacks the finesse and social graces of previous actors but that fits the cocky upstart the character has been reinvented as. He has good timing that makes him the first truly funny Bond and this is counterbalanced by his arrogant swagger. He doesn't have that much chemistry with his female co-star but there is a certain softness where she's concerned that makes up for it.
I can't buy into Eva Green as Treasury accountant Vesper Lynd, solely on the basis of her accent. It's not that it doesn't sound English; it's that the cadences she has in any given sentence don't feel right probably because she's speaking in her second language (French is her first). She looks the part - all polished reserve, although she's wearing more make-up than necessary. And she has a nice line in sarcasm and inner steel, resisting Bond longer than any other girl in the franchise.
As bad guy Le Chiffre, Mads Mikkelsen has two modes; sphinx-like impenetrability and all too human fear and cowardice. He's the most realistic villain for years and his twitchy turn fits the gritty new format, though he doesn't engender fear in the same way as old Bond nemeses. Judi Dench returns as a more irritable version of M. She's harsh and disapproving and as interested in covering her own back as protecting Bond's. There's a suggestion of a life outside the office, giving her wider scope. Jeffrey Wright isn't given much of a chance to do anything as CIA agent Felix Leiter, but it isn't a bad new start for the character.
If I didn't already know the original music was by David Arnold, I would have been convinced it was a John Barry score. I'm not sure whether that's a good or a bad thing. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but it feels a touch lazy. It's packed with big orchestral arrangements that are heavy on the brass. There are horn spikes aplenty and lots of jazzy touches. There are also syrupy piano motifs for the romantic scenes that are hackneyed. However, instead of using Monty Norman's original Bond theme, Arnold smothers the movie in refrains of the latest bond song, replete with brushed cymbal. That wouldn't be a bad thing were the new song not such dreary middle-of-the-road rock whose main feature is that it is very LOUD. And the irony of some bloke I've never heard of belting out a track called "You Know My Name" hasn't escaped me. Instead poor Monty's beloved tune is buried half way through the credits.
"Casino Royale" is a return to form for the Bond franchise. Martin Campbell is a capable director that just about manages to balance the action with the greater emotional depth of the story. Daniel Craig is a deserving inheritor of the Bond suit and shows himself to have the kind of mettle that might stand him in good stead as a real secret agent. The action sequences are real heart-stoppers and the back-to-basics approach makes for a more satisfying viewing experience. Still, it's a shame about the opening credits and the dreadful Chris Cornell theme song.
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