Casino Royale - a review

Saw Casino Royale. Very ordinary, very forgettable. Daniel Craig is quite good, but I couldn't stop wondering if Clive Owen (who was also reportedly in the race for the new Bond) would've been better.

The movie also got me thinking as to what Bond used to be, and what it is now.

Then: edge-of-the-seat, scintillating opening sequence with Bond extricating himself from absolutely impossible situations that only he can get out of. That's why he's Bond
Now: B&W sequence where we learn how Bond got promoted to Double-O status - i.e. by shooting off a baddie sitting opposite him in a bar (they're the only two people there), prior to which Bond had bashed up a goon in the loo. However, to be fair, this was followed by a breath-taking, edge-of-seat chase between Bond and Sebastien Foucan, the free-running master. Thank God for that - it was true Bond

Then: Opening title sequence with loads of silhouettes of seductive women with the title track of the movie. (remember Tina Turner's Goldeneye ? or even Duran Duran's View to kill?)
Now: Some card-based shadowy title sequence with caterwauling by Chris Cornell (who he ?) going "I know who you are". Uninspiring.

Then: Q and loads and loads of gadgets. Damn. Those cars, those pens, those watches and assorted paraphernalia were quintessential Bond. Any self-respecting gadget freak would swoon over them. Bond-Q dialogues were also quite fun.
Now: No Q, no gadgets. Loads of Sony Ericsson phones (remember Sony made the movie?) and one fancy car whose most technologically-advanced gadget is a defribillator. Why ? Just in case, you know, Bond has a heart attack, he can calmly, very Bondly, get into the car, strap it to his chest and and zap himself back to life. And yes, this does happen in the movie, only it's the girl doing the needful zapping.

Then: Gangster molls and bimbettes. Pussy Galore, Octopussy, Xenia Onatopp and of course, Honey Ryder, have all been legends. For example, remember the climax of "The Man with the Golden Gun" ? when Mary Goodnight touched off a laser gun with her bikini-clad butt ?
Now: One babe, admittedly hot, but who lasted all of 3 minutes before being conveniently tortured and killed after she reveals some secrets to Bond. Oh and we have the famous love angle for Bond with Vesper Lynd (I'm not sure how funny that name is). Yes well, whatever. This is supposed to be the big thing about the movie. Left me unmoved, except for the conversation in the train between Bond and Lynd.

Then: Risque closing sequences. Bond typically in bed with above-mentioned girl comes up with some witty one-liner when his bosses call him in the end. Sample, the closing lines of "Moonraker" - Bosses: "What are you doing Bond?" (Bond's in bed with some hottie). Bond, calmly: "Keeping the British end up".
Now: Bond gets the villain, shoots him in the leg and goes "Bond. James Bond". Er, ok.

Then: Simple plots, predictable turns and deceptions.
Now: Card games, a few side-villains, one big betrayal that is explained away by M in one sentence and a villain that is seen for all of 1.1 minutes. Give me Scaramanga and Blofeld anyday.

I don't get it. Why a new Bond ? And hang on, I want to make a broader point here.

Are the times of our lives changing so much that we need to find out the origins and complications of every famous movie character ? Or get involved in his personal anguish, introspections, etc ? What ? now we need the movies to get in touch with our inner-selves ?

Take for example - a wuss of a Superman (in the recent disaster - Superman Returns, a.k.a. - "The Perils of a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist: Do you know how many 'c's in a catastrophe?"), an exiled Batman (in Chris Nolan's brilliant Batman Begins) and now "How Bond Got His Double-Ohs". What next ? Jaws: The true story ? (or how Jaws ate all the people on the beach because he was a victim of sexual abuse as a kid ?)

Is this is some kinda reflection on the times we live in ? That hey, you know, we don't always know what is good from bad. Life is not a box of chocolates, Forrest, life is grey and complicated. You even get lemons. Even our super-heroes can get their asses kicked.

I'll tell you what. I don't care a damn about these introspections and these sensitive, reluctant heroes. Give me simple, kick-ass rockstars who wipe the floor with villains asses, who get the best girls, the best lines and the best gadgets. I go to the movies to be entertained. I don't need slow, self-indulgent, soap-opera stuff.

There is a reason why Hollywood's most famous characters are its most famous brands. Bond, Indiana Jones, comic book super-heroes, hell, even Austin Powers. There's a reason why plain, old-fashion entertainment works. That's what I go to the movies for. That's why I remember Ursula Andress, Sean Connery, Roger Moore and even Pierce Brosnan. Add Christopher Reeve, Harrison Ford and God knows how many more to that list.

But I guess that list is probably over because they don't make movies, and heroes, like they used to.