Gone is the RN commander as the jagged, handheld, monochrome opening sequence of Craig drowning his first ‘kill’ in a blood-strewn public toilet shows, this Bond’s a tough, no-nonsense, Mondeo-driving product of the ‘who dares wins’ SAS school rather than the snobby naval wardroom, and he has some of the social contempt as well as the pumping thighs, bulging pecs and inflated ego to prove it.Ĭobra-baiting in Madagascar, car-chases in Nassau, Montenegro, Miami – there’s enough globe-trotting to please the purists. Ian Fleming’s titular 1953 Cold-War source novel presented a proto-Bond and it’s interesting how much licence Cambell’s confidently directed action thriller takes with it. Bond: ‘A vodka martini, please.’ Casino barman: ‘Shaken or stirred?’ Bond: ‘Do I look like I give a damn?’ It’s a sharp and knowing line – probably penned by Paul Haggis, the talented, final scriptwriter of this highly enjoyable ‘back-to-basics re-boot’ of the 007 franchise – that not only simultaneously acknowledges and confounds audience expectations, but also neatly confirms that Daniel Craig’s intriguing and charismatic tyro agent is cut from quite different cloth to his Savile Row-tailored predecessors.
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