We went to see the new Bond movie last weekend, in Tallinn. Kapow! Ka-fucking-pow! I’m happy to report that Casino Royale was no stroke of fluke. Welcome back, Mr Bond. “I never left”, he said…
He did, though. He left when Sean Connery lost his hair.
George was American. Roger was funny when I was twelve. Timothy was a bit of a bore. Pierce was the worst of them all. Welcome back indeed, Mr Bond. I’ve been expecting you a lot longer than Gert FrÃ¶be.
Quantum Of Solace is the first true sequel of the series, spinning the story of Casino Royale into the beyond. As so often is the case with sequels, it does not quite live up to the prequel. No, not quite. But it throws a damned hard punch, nonetheless. Perhaps Bond is turning Bourne, but so be it. 007 sure can scrap these days – I go OUCH and hold my ribs just watching him fight for his life, for Queen and country and the hot babe he loved and lost. Bond is one bitter chap, and that’s exactly why and how we like him; suffering, like the rest of us…
Apart from the flaming inferno at the end, Quantum Of Solace is great. It teeters on the edge of too much boom, but, just like the Aston Martin, falls back onto its wheels.
Finally, there is something incredibly evil and mysterious out there to fight against. Remember old syndicate Spectre? So do I, fondly. Now we have Quantum. And Bond has a raison d’Ãªtre. I don’t know about you, but I can barely wait to see who the next Blofeld is! They better introduce him from the back, sitting in an egg chair, whispering despotic orders… from his headquarters at Wall Street. Let’s hope he is a corporate crime lord, a hedge fund manager. And that Bond lays him to wild waste in at least the five following movies.
Hark hark. For a moment there I remembered Roger’s ridiculous karate chops. What a juxta! Man, he couldn’t get out of a wet paper bag. New 007 is the spy who we love.