Bond at his best: rewatching Casino Royale

In the wake of Spectre, I rewatched Daniel Craig’s debut as 007, Casino Royale. And what a debut and what a Bond film!

The beautiful black and white intro is the perfect introduction to a new Bond, unearthing for the audience his first two kills and highlighting that this new Bond is a newbie. The fight in the toilets is brutal and, Hitchcock-style, reminds us of how difficult it is to kill someone with your bare hands. That seamless blend into the gun barrel ident is an act of near-genius.

The opening title sequence is acceptable as is the up-tempo song, You Know My Name (hell, it is at least better than Madonna’s awful Die Another Day, which must tie with Sam Smith’s latest from Spectre for embodying entropy).

The first, brief scene establishes two key characters: our main villain in Le Chiffre (perfect casting of Mads Mikkelsen) and Mr White, who will come to mean so much to Bond.

Then we cut to the first big action sequence, which upon reflection would have been even better in full IMAX ratio. Brilliantly staged, it almost makes actual sense! By the time Bond gets his man, he’s battered, bruised and bloodied.

And about to get a dressing down from Judi Dench, who sinks her teeth into M, making the most of the part and her dialogue.

There follows some sleuthing for Bond that leads him to the Ocean Club in Nassau. Cue Caterina Murino as a typically throw-away Bond girl, but at least 007 doesn’t go all the way with her before getting the info he needs.

The airport sequence is excellent, Bond almost up against his match. It concludes with one of many detailed reaction shots in the film: in this scene, Bond smiles as his opponent falls victim to his own bomb.

And before we know it we’re moving into the Second Act and the short period of time where Daniel Craig’s Bond is almost human. Now, there are those that don’t rate her or her accent, but I’m an unashamed Eva Green fan. Her intro is unlike any other Bond girl: she just storms into the frame unannounced: “I’m the money,” she states. Checking her out, his eyes practically on stalks, Bond replies: “Every penny...”

Their verbal jousting across the dining car table clearly highlights a natural chemistry, but both are too obstinate to concede to the other or to admit to their mutual attraction. It’s like a more ballsy When Harry Met Sally scene.

They keep jibing at each other until we reach the hotel room and we get what might be a first for Bond: a woman has completely confounded him. Having told Vesper that he wants the poker gamers’ eyes on her neckline as he hangs the dress he’s picked out for her on the bathroom door, he returns to his room, only to spot a fresh suit bag on his bed. He returns to the bathroom to point out that he already has a dinner suit. “There are dinner suits… and there are dinner suits,” Vesper declares. “This is the latter.” Bond protests, almost in exasperation, that it’s tailored. “I sized you up the moment I saw you,” Vesper bites back. Bond turns on his heels, incredulous. Priceless scene.

At the time, some critics and Bond watchers (myself included in the latter) thought the poker game went on too long, but in comparison with Sam Mendes’ takes this is a sprightly scene.

The hand-to-hand fight sequences rise to the challenge from Greengass’ and Damon’s Bourne films, the stairwell sequence halfway through the poker game a particular highlight. And it’s great that in keeping the fight confined in such close quarters, Vesper becomes an unwilling participant, aiding Bond and then having to bare witness to one man strangling another to death.

This then sets up one of the most talked-about sequences of the film… In a rare scene of genuine intimacy between Bond and one of his (future) conquests, he comforts Vesper, sucking her fingers, metaphorically wiping the blood from her hands, as they sit in the shower, cold water beating down upon them (plenty of female writers reacted ecstatically to this scene and its erotic charge). For the first time since they met, her guard is down, and now finally so is his… They will never be on the same page again. And so the descent to tragedy begins.

You’ll notice I’ve skipped over the resuscitation scene – perhaps the one bum note in the film.

At the victory supper, we find Bond genuinely gallant with Vesper, treating her as an equal. He tries a line in full knowledge that this woman who has entranced him will never fall for it (the Algerian love knot wasn’t just there to emphasise Eva’s divine décolletage!); he seems almost accepting of his fate and that she will be the one who got away – he fought and he lost. Not for the first time in this film, Bond is on the ropes.

Indeed, one trashed Aston later, the ropes are on Bond as Le Chiffre’s sadistic torture begins. For all Bond’s bluster (“I’ve got an itch to the left.” “Everyone will know you died scratching my balls.”), he’s taking a beating and the pain is all too evident. This scene alone fully justifies Craig being nominated for Best Actor at the ensuing BAFTAs.

Thanks to Mr White’s displeasure with Le Chiffre, Bond and Vesper are saved, so now for the romance. I can’t recall much chemistry between Bond and any of his conquests in any of his adventures before or after, but there is a genuine spark between Craig and Green, none more so than when he wakes up to find her gazing and smiling at him and she remarks that she loves seeing him wake up because each time he reacts as if he’s seeing her for the first time in years. Indeed, it is now that the film reveals its true nature: it’s a tragic love story – the origin story of a cold-hearted assassin is just a sub-plot. It's presumably no coincidence that many of the photo shoots to promote the film feature Craig and Green as a couple, rom-com style.

In order to be tragic, one of the lovers must die: cue Venice and Vesper in red (red + Venice = unhappy ending). The finale is well-staged, Bond now at the top of his action game. However, there is no getting away from the fact that Vesper effectively commits suicide by locking the elevator door: she’s betrayed Bond, her country and her previous lover, and she makes the decision that she can’t live with what she’s done.

In terms of cinematic roles, Eva’s career never got any better than this, only her lead role in Penny Dreadful surpasses the challenge for her. Throughout the film, Craig gives a towering performance that he has never had the chance to repeat, the subsequent ‘development’ of his character in Quantum, Skyfall and Spectre removing much of the colour and fun from Bond. 

The shutters come down on Bond in the extended epilogue: “The job’s done. The bitch is dead.” He says it with venom, he trusted her, let her in, and then she ratted him out and died before Bond could remonstrate with her, and thus his conflicting emotions are realistic. Cue the hunt for Mr White: Vesper may have committed suicide following her treachery, but she did so because men like Mr White forced her too, and thus Bond’s mission for Quantum of Solace is as much pure revenge for Vesper’s fate as it is for national security.

Perhaps the most perversely satisfying moment in Spectre is Bond uncovering a video tape of Vesper’s interrogation among Mr White’s effects, and Blofeld reminding him and Madeleine Swann of the one that really did get away.

And what of director Martin Campbell? Twice he has brought Bond back to life (first with Pierce Brosnan in GoldenEye) and for this alone he deserves a knighthood or something similar for services to the national identity! Both of Campbell’s Bond films flow with crisp, kinetic energy. Casino Royale also benefits from top-notch editing from Stuart Baird (he would work on Campbell’s next two films). The cinematography is also good: the DoP is Phil Meheux, who as a Campbell regular worked on GoldenEye too, but here he stepped up, especially with the monochrome prologue.

In summary: Casino Royal remains the best Craig Bond. I need to rewatch Quantum and Skyfall, but I suspect the former will remain the runt of the bunch.