So, how’s the new Bond movie? Well, it’s different—that’s for sure.

After a four-year absence (exceeded only by the six-year gap between Licence To Kill and Goldeneye), 007 returns to the screen in one of those perplexing quasi-prequels in the vein of The Sum of All Fears and Batman Begins; it’s supposed to take place before the previous films, but the film is set in 2006.

The James Bond series has a way of ignoring time (Bond’s been running around on missions since the 1960s and doesn’t seem to be getting much older), but the whole prequel format really screws with the films’ timeline (how can Judi Dench be M if M was played by men until Goldeneye?).

However, most of these kinds of problems and stylistic choices (the film doesn’t start with the famous gun barrel sequence, for example) will only bother 007 diehards such as myself (though the absences of Q and Moneypenny will likely be felt by even the most casual viewer).

The real question is: how is the new Bond? Unfortunately, that’s a bit difficult to answer, since the character himself is different. This is the punk Bond (a “blunt instrument”, as M calls him), the Bond before he becomes the sophisticated gentlemen we all know and love.

Daniel Craig plays the thug role quite well—the viewer can tell he is at ease in the action sequences (much like George Lazenby was in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service), and the viewer absolutely believes he is capable of dishing out all the punishment he does (and what punishment . . . Craig is by far the most violent Bond yet). He takes his lumps, too—particularly in a scene nearing the end of the film (you’ll know it when you see it).

This is the first Bond film in quite some time to actually be based upon a novel by Ian Fleming, and it’s the first in an even longer time to be faithful in any way to its namesake. Though the first half or so of Casino Royale is pure invention, everything after the introduction of Vesper Lynd (Eva Green) adheres surprisingly closely to Fleming’s novel.

Viewers accustomed to the Bond formula will certainly be surprised; Casino Royale is paced and structured quite differently from the previous Bond films. There is no diabolical scheme to destroy the gold supply of Fort Knox, or cause World War III, or even steal a few A-bombs—Le Chiffre (Mads Mikkelsen)’s plan is much simpler: stay alive.

It makes for an interesting change. On occasion, we even find ourselves sympathizing with Le Chiffre, the most desperate Bond villain in recent memory; in order to avoid assassination, he needs to quickly acquire millions of dollars he lost while gambling with terrorists’ money. It may be a stretch to refer to him as a “Bond villain”, though, since he doesn’t seem to relate to many of the theatrical Bond villains of the past. Mikkelsen gives an extremely subdued performance, matching Craig inch for inch; after all, Bond and Le Chiffre are both men who won’t allow their faces to give anything away.

No Bond film would be complete without a few gorgeous women, and we are given three: Vesper Lynd, Solange (Caterina Murino), and Valenka (Ivana Milicevic). Of the three, Vesper is by far the most engaging (and, as I recall, the only one whose name is spoken on-screen).

Upon their first meeting, Vesper sizes Bond up quickly and accurately, and he does the same with her. Their relationship evolves slowly, smoothly, and believably; the days when Bond could grab a girl and mash their lips together until she decided to grab him back are far gone.

Vesper, a Treasury representative, accompanies Bond to Casino Royale in Montenegro in order to finance a high-stakes Texas Hold’em game which could potentially ruin Le Chiffre (and prompt his terrorist employers to execute him). Strangely, the film ends up becoming a lot more compelling when the two arrive in Montenegro and Bond enters the tournament; before then, Bond was crossing the globe chasing after free-running terrorists and preventing terrorist attacks. Those sequences, though chock-full of loud explosions, don’t even come close to being as intriguing, as tense, or as purely exciting as the scenes in the casino, where Le Chiffre and Bond play a deadly game which only occasionally depends on what’s in the cards.

To its credit, Casino Royale doesn’t continue the computer-generated silliness present in Die Another Day; there is not a single obvious CGI shot in the whole film. Due to Q’s absence, there are no true gadgets to speak of (though for most of the film it seems that someone is always looking at a mobile phone—Bond has one in each hand at one point).

Craig makes a good effort at playing Bond, but his performance seems a bit flat in some of the quieter scenes—even for a character who takes great care in guarding his emotions. I predict that given the experience he’s gained from Casino Royale, he will do a much better job in the next film.

The thing I’m most curious about, though, is where the series will go from here; will the filmmakers continue along this new timeline with a younger Bond or will the series revert to the established Bond of the previous twenty years? I suppose it doesn’t matter; I don’t think Bond will ever die.

Note: Though nothing and no one is hit by a bus in this film, at one point (as I recall) Bond crashes a vehicle right into an articulated bus, splitting it in half. Bonus points, 007.

Postscript: This review was published (with a few changes) on page 15 of the November 30, 2006 edition of The Uniter.

© 2006 Kevin P. Gabel