Bring Back My License to Thrill

zap2it ^ | friday | Daniel Fienberg

[Mr. Blonde]

An open letter to the creative powers behind "Casino Royale"

Dear Martin Campbell, Paul Haggis, Barbara Broccoli, Michael G. Wilson and anybody else involved with the upcoming James Bond film:

It's only two months before you're supposed to shoot a new James Bond movie and your writer and director are detailing entirely different visions to the press. And there's still the fact that many months of searching have failed to yield a leading man. Does it bother you that with every unsubstantiated rumor and fabricated press release, one of the most successful franchises in cinema history is turning into a joke? Just curious. A proviso, or word of qualification: This writer has always been more of a fan of Fleming's novels than of the films, particularly anything not involving Sean Connery. Roger Moore was an amiable clown who got stuck with too many subpar adaptations. George Lazenby was billboard cut-out Bond who somehow found himself in a good movie. Conversely, Timothy Dalton was a great Bond -- at least for this purist -- stuck in two horrid movies and tarred by their failures. Brosnan looked, sounded and felt exactly the way people came to expect Bond to look and sound and feel, which is exactly why he was so boring. His interpretation of the role was limited to everything that made Bond iconic -- the perfectly fitted tuxes, carefully ordered martinis and endlessly bedded women -- and fell short of everything that made Bond compelling. The great irony surrounding Brosnan is that he was more quintessentially Bond-ian in "The Thomas Crown Affair" and "The Tailor of Panama" than he ever got to be in his four stints as 007.

Brosnan's departure -- forced or voluntary -- gives the series a chance for a necessary reboot, please don't blow it. Actually, Clive Owen should have been offered the part immediately after "Croupier," but that opportunity was missed. And stop saying that A-list actors don't want to make a three-film commitment. If you'd stop making awful movies from undercooked scripts, actors would be more eager. Just because Brosnan has reduced the role to quippy one-liners, making out with beautiful women, outrunning fireballs and looking good in a suit doesn't make that some alpha male thespian wouldn't want to play Ian Fleming's Bond, the compulsive gambler, consummate gourmand and justifiably paranoid spy, a man equipped with both psychological and physical scars. While that character hasn't appeared in any of the past dozen movies, he's right there on the pages of "Casino Royale" -- you know, that book you're supposed to be adapting?

It has been a long time since Bond did anything other than order his martinis "shaken, not stirred." How dull for him. In "Casino Royale," he requests a different drink, desiring, "A dry martini, in a deep champagne goblet -- Three measures of Gordons, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice cold, then add a thin slice of lemon peel."

Viewers deserve that kind of Bond.

I recently picked up "Casino Royale" and reread it in one sitting. It's a great yarn and it'd make a nifty movie, but not in with the more-is-more ethos that has ruled the Bond series for years. It has a car chase, but only one. It has a bomb exploding, but only one. There's a sexy woman, but only one. The novel has a fantastic action set piece, but it happens to be a 28-page game of baccarat. There are no gadgets at all (a possibility Haggis has smartly acknowledged and Campbell has slavishly denied), which means no Q, while M appears in passing only. Le Chiffre is a splendid villain -- a debauched pornographer, pimp, gambler and Holocaust survivor -- but he's dealt with only two-thirds of the way through.

In fact, after racing through 124 pages of intrigue, torture and fun, "Casino Royale" dedicates its last 57 pages to the main character's existential crisis. This Bond has only used his license to kill on two occasions and he fears that his desire to kill -- for revenge or for country -- renders him indistinguishable from the bad guys ("The villains and heroes get all mixed up," he tells a colleague). This inner turmoil leads him to contemplate retirement.

"[D]on't let me down and become human yourself," his confessor, an operative named Mathis, tells him. "We would lose such a wonderful machine."

In reality, Bond is neither evil, as he fears, or a machine, as Mathis alleges. The word that Fleming uses most frequently to describe him (heck, uses frequently to describe most everything) is "cold." At times, actors and filmmakers have confused that "cold" with "aloof" or "distant." Again, only Connery has been able to get it right.

Brosnan restored the franchise's financial fortunes, but the six-year delay between "License to Kill" and "GoldenEye" left the series unmoored. The underappreciated genius of John Le Carre is not in the espionage classics he wrote during the Cold War, but in the author's ability to swiftly recognize the new enemies after the fall of the Soviet Union and the Berlin Wall. It's a challenge Fleming never had to face and that the slew of screenwriters-by-committee haven't mastered. The pervasive menace of SPECTRE or SMERSH -- Smyert Shpionam, "death to spies" -- and the organizations' real world counterparts was as essential to the early books and films as the Auric Goldfingers, Ernst Blofelds or Pussy Galores.

If we lived in a peaceful world without any kind of nefarious terrorist organization threatening our Western ideals, the film's current lack of relevance might be acceptable, but the recent slew of maniacal billionaires or mercenaries bent on world domination is a bore. Bond without political context is so anonymous he might as well be played by Goran Visnjic (a leading rumored candidate).

Do you want my recommendation? No. Didn't think so. Here it is anyway: cast Daniel Craig as Bond. He's a bit older than other candidates like Henry Cavill and Sam Worthington, but he looks like the character should look. The romantic interest in "Casino Royale" says Bond looks like Hoagy Carmichael, which is a compliment, but not the same as looking plastic and pretty. His features have texture.

Then, put Mr. Campbell on hold. He's a director for stunt and spectacle. If you're going to do "Casino Royale" right, hire somebody whose indie bona fides are in place. Mike Hodges ("Croupier") is the best choice, but Jon Amiel ("The Singing Detective") might work. Actually, John Dahl ("Rounders") could handle the action and he'd deliver a heck of a card game. Anyway, an efficient director, sticking to the plot of the book, could start production in January and shoot fast and turn the movie in for less than $30 million and have it out by November. That would reestablish the character and the franchise, produce a quick profit and open the door for Campbell to return for a brainless blowout the following year, for 007 in 2007.

Oh well. I just felt like sharing.

Best,

Fienberg. Daniel Fienberg.

[Mr. Blonde]

Here are the Bond candidates mentioned in the article.

Clive Owen

Daniel Craig (My pick also)

Goran Visnijic

Henr y Cavill

Sam Worthington


Too bad Clint Eastwood is firmly aligned with WB, he and Haggis were a potent team for Million Dollar Baby, it would be interesting to see what a director like him would do with Bond. Although I could see David Fincher doing a good job. If this article is correct and this Bond is much more low key on the gadgets and explosions anyone associated with the production of the recent Bonds should be dropped. Maybe they could get Christopher Nolan to revive Bond like they did for Batman.

[P8riot]

Ahhhh, but here's the original.

[Mr. Blonde]

I'm by no means the biggest Bond fan around, but I think there are some who may call for your banning by trying to call that a Bond movie. :)

[Yo-Yo]

Anyway, an efficient director, sticking to the plot of the book, could start production in January and shoot fast and turn the movie in for less than $30 million and have it out by November.

They couldn't even outfit the star's trailer for $30 million.

[Mr. Blonde]

It depends on who the star is. Clive Owen although gaining fame is by no means a huge star yet, and the others border on being unknown to the general film going public. I would not be surprised to see many studios going to smaller budgets anyway. Those are the ones actually making them money this year. The 40 Year Old Virgin for instance cost 25 million to make and as of Oct 2 grossed 101 million. that isn't a bad return. Wedding Crashers cost 40 million and has made 206 million.