Review

Review Date: 19-November-06
Spoiler Rating: Medium
Juju Judgment: Junk

Casino Royale (2006)

Okay, so the folks who run the James Bond camp wanted to revivify the franchise with a younger star and a grittier feel. Thus they've given us "Casino Royale," which stars blond, burly Daniel Craig as a newly-fledged and decidedly raw 007. He sweats and bleeds, gets suckered and makes mistakes. His witticisms are few, his gadgetry incidental. He favors wrath over lust when indulging in sin. He's more hot than cool, more shaken than stirred. He may jibe with Ian Fleming's original character, but he doesn't resemble the legendary movie Bond.

If this is progress, just call me a Tory.

I already miss the old Bond — any old Bond — with his elegantly animalistic style and corny insouciance. At least the presence of the familiar old bloke with his cars, women, and egomaniacal nemeses could smooth over a less-than-stellar script, which is not the case with "Casino Royale." The flick begins with the rousing pursuit of an African bomb maker by our new Double-O, which launches a search for a banker to terrorists and strongmen. Bond heads to the Bahamas, where he goes shirtless and spurns a babe, and then jets to Miami for a stop-the-bomb chase. So far, so adequate. The action at least is diverting and there's some nice tension between Craig and Judi Dench as his superior, M (who calls him a "slimy bugger" with good reason).

But then the movie falls apart. With a jarring change of pace, Bond follows the trail to Monaco where his prey (Mads Mikkelsen) is hosting a multimillion-dollar poker game to win back cash that he dangerously misinvested. The story almost grinds to a halt. Not only is the bad guy intolerably dull (he sheds blood from one eye just so there's something to remember him for), but watching the poker game is as exciting as watching your toenails grow. To top it off, the heretofore heartless Bond starts to fall for an accountant from the treasury in London (Eva Green), who's sent to watch over the large amount of money with which he's speculating. They engage in narcotic banter (friction between two lusterless actors can't generate sparks) and eventually get kidnapped and tortured. This revs up the plot again, but male members of the audience may need to shut their eyes.

The final act adopts its own odd rhythm as 007 gives it all up for love and the pleasures of Venice, but heartbreak and more violence ensue. The bad guy becomes not the bad guy (the movie itself found him boring), and the updated Bond finally and abruptly takes his famous catch phrase in hand. Perhaps he has become tempered and more focused for the next installment, I'm not really sure. Nor do I care. The franchise gambled with the character and lost. Just as M waxes nostalgic for the Cold War, I long for the good old Bond.

Copyright © 2006 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.