Curious to see Casino Royale at the tail end of my first and last complete Bond-binge, where it is much easier to see as the last and most successful of a long series of attempts to pivot to a more serious breed of spy thriller. First it was George Lazenby in Her Majesty's Secret Service, then Timothy Dalton in The Living Daylights. By the end of Pierce Brosnan's tenure the series had ended up in quite a stupid place again, but just as Die Another Day cribbed badly from The Matrix, Casino Royale cribbed from the realism of The Bourne Identity.
But, you know, it really works. For perhaps the first time in the entire series it feels like there's an auteur at the helm. Glorious action, great performances, and a fantastic script with a genuinely unexpected twist. It's also the very first film in the series to have a female character presenting any sense of actual personhood.
Anti-Bond
It's misleading to call Casino Royale the best James Bond film in years, because it isn't one, not really. It does feature a spy named James Bond, agent 007 of MI6; and, indeed, he's the most interesting character of that name and occupation to appear on the screen in quite some time. But even if Daniel Craig's Bond is a vast improvement over Pierce Brosnan's smug pantywaist, Craig is no suave ladykiller: this Bond is more soldier than gentleman, and that's no Bond at all.
Casino Royale has a darker, more realistic edge than previous entries in the series; it's more a reinvention than a sequel. Delightful as it is not to suffer ridiculous space-laser plotting and villains with ever more risible personal quirks -- I weep a little at the thought that Le Chiffre, a scarred accountant-to-terrorists who weeps tears of blood, is a measure of understatement -- it's also a not-entirely-welcome sign that the franchise has grown up.
In many ways, it's a very good thing: most Bond films are unbearably cheesy, and rightly parodied by the likes of Austin Powers. In this brave new post-9/11 world there are no more sharks with frikkin' lasers on their heads; there are just terrorists.
This makes for a film that's easier to appreciate; it's gritty and comparatively understated. At the same time, though, it's a sad moment. This Bond bears little resemblance to the pop-culture icon he represents. He's just another spy, and Casino Royale is just another spy thriller.
The upside is that it's a pretty good one. It's lighter than some of its recent compatriots, like The Bourne Identity, and it's well-paced. There's a few scenes it could've done without, especially given the 144-minute running time, but even when dwelling on the poker game -- not at all a transparent effort at cashing in on the Texas Hold'em craze -- it never seems to drag. There's plenty of action to keep things interesting.
Oh, what the hell: even if it isn't really Bond, it's still the best Bond flick in ages. It's a solid action-thriller, worth seeing on its own merits; the 007 trimmings are just a happy bonus.