Written by Paul Haggis
Directed by Marc Forster
We are all familiar with the Bond cannon conventions on this the 22nd outing of the most successful film franchise of all time. With Quantum, our expectations begin with the sexy hallucinogenic opening credit sequence, introducing the title pop theme (this time featuring R&B siren Alicia Keyes and off-beat rocker Jack White) and remain until the final gun shot freeze frame, shadowing our dashing well-suited hero in crimson. For this reason, the creative team can't mess with the formula. They can change the villains to make their misdeeds more timely (in Solace, no more cold war tyrants, but rather environmentalists gone bad), the babes to make their ethnic backgrounds or hemlines more contemporary (Gemma Arterton's Molly Ringwald-look-alike Strawberry Fields sports a Prada party dress which is almost a dead ringer for Michelle Obama's Grant Park gown), and the locations/gadgets/cars to set a global standard.
But the trick to all this jiggering is an engaging thru-line, for which screenwriter Paul Haggis (Crash, Million Dollar Baby) has proved his expertise in other efforts. However, this Bond flick is a misstep: a recession-era Bond, which meets satisfactory standards and nothing more. Within the spy genre of glamorous excess, these cars seem painfully economical (dough-like Smart Cars). There are few of the legendary car chases. Perhaps gas prices have proved prohibitive?
We have entered a decade where we no longer request shaken, not stirred martinis, but rather we down tonight's drink special. If James Bond has abandoned his discriminating tastes, what hope does that offer the rest of us? Time to switch to one-ply.
However, Mr. Craig continues to make a case for the vitality of this series. One just wishes his well-defined muscles could be paired with an equally chiseled script.
