A Chequer-Board of Nights and Days

I approve of a great deal concerning the new direction taken by the James Bond franchise. A movie series that once was excessively cute with generous dollops of faux-cleverness added in has now become hard-edged and more vibrant and real. Bond himself has been revitalized through Daniel Craig's excellent acting skills. Judi Dench is even more of a presence now than she was before; a sort of cross between a hectoring parent and a caring teacher for Bond, someone who understands his foibles, his darkness, his potential. Bond can get bloody. Bond can get bruised. Bond can get beaten up. Bond is a real figure to us now and we understand him and empathize with him much more readily than we were able to in the past, back when he was the Unsullied Golden Boy who emerged from life's travails with nary a scratch and we . . . well . . . didn't.

For these reasons, I celebrate Daniel Craig's decision to assume the role of Bond, despite some early misgivings (we have yet to have a Bond who is the type of figure envisioned by Ian Fleming; tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed and English). I celebrate as well the camera-work that goes into the newest Bond movies; they show Bond in all of his new, raw glory. But while I enjoyed Casino Royale, I was disappointed by Quantum of Solace. The plot was vague, elliptical and at the end, quite dissatisfying. Craig's portrayal as Bond was excellent but thanks to the plot, it was also somewhat directionless. Dench provided something of an anchor for the film but from here on out, Bond films will need more than a personality to serve as their anchor.

I don't object to certain changes made in the Bond franchise. But I wish that it would be less opaque. Oh, and bringing back Q and Moneypenny would be nice too. At some point, let's do that.