With 'Casino Royale,' we get to the obligatory concluding lovey-dovey on the tropical sands, and then the movie pulls a screeching U-turn and starts up again with the most sensational scene I have ever seen set in Venice, or most other places.
It could be terrific, it could be routine, but you always knew about where you were in the formula. There was the opening stunt sequence that served little purpose, except to lead into the titles the title song Miss Moneypenny M with an assignment of great urgency to the Crown Q with some new gadgets an archvillain a series of babes, some treacherous, some doomed, all frequently in stages of undress the villain's master-plan Bond's certain death, and a lot of chases. Year after year, attending the new Bond was like observing a ritual. But Daniel Craig is bloody damned great as Bond, in a movie that creates a new reality for the character. That doesn't make him the 'best' Bond, because I've long since given up playing that pointless ranking game Sean Connery was first to plant the flag, and that's that. Yes, Daniel Craig makes a superb Bond: Leaner, more taciturn, less sex-obsessed, able to be hurt in body and soul, not giving a damn if his martini is shaken or stirred.
