Connery’s Bond benefited greatly from being the first. He could do as he wished and was not constrained by the audience’s preconceptions of the character. Although some people had read the books, few were so purist as to complain about Connery’s portrayal. He made the role his and he was a success. Then Roger Moore turned Bond into a light-hearted gadabout, Dalton was saddled with the cynical 80s and the Brosnan starred in a series of films that were more about explosions than espionage.
Neither Dalton nor Brosnan, despite his popularity, innovated with the character. Dalton was trying to play the hard-edged Bond from the novels and Brosnan, while he nailed the essence of the English gentleman spy, was essentially a boring character, just a vessel in which to carry and consolidate the baggage loaded upon him by the previous incarnations of 007. This failure is not the fault of the actors; it’s the fault of a studio that lacked inspiration and wanted to maintain a cash cow.
So it is good news that with Casino Royale, the suits saw that their Bond brand was waning and took a gamble with the franchise – appropriately perhaps, given the title of the film. Here, at last, is a Bond film with a talented leading actor, a good director and an great script that cares to look at our hero in some depth while regarding the familiar elements of Bond as inconsequential – there are no ridiculous gadgets, no naked dancers and no stupid one-liners. Casino Royale respects your willing suspension of disbelief right until the film’s climax, but even the money shot is fairly tasteful.
Once again, there is a reason for 007 to exist. He isn’t necessarily more exciting than Jack Bauer, or more mysterious than Jason Bourne, but Daniel Craig has a knack of making his characters seem real: his Bond makes Tom Cruise’s Ethan Hunt look like one of those old school Action Man dolls with the switch in the back of its head that makes its eyes move. The franchise is reborn; I look forward to Bond 22 with great interest.
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