Quantum of Solace Review: Bond’s Grief Observed

Do my fanboy eyes deceive me, or did I just witness James Bond go through a thoughtful and profound process of mourning, recovery, and personal growth? Times sure have changed. Way back when, all James Bond had to do to wow the masses was look good in a tux, drink like Yeltsin, nail the ladies, and shoot the baddies. But in a post- Jason Bourne world, spies are expected to think, feel, and be willing to get their nails dirty. The powers that pull the strings in the 007 empire realized this and were wise enough to abandon the increasingly ludicrous Brosnan era in favor of the amazing Daniel Craig whose debut adventure (2006’s Casino Royale) not only provided the franchise’s first true origin story but reevaluated the very bones of what makes a good Bond movie. Archvillains, exotic locales, fast cars, and beautiful women stay– wacky gadgets, cheesy one-liners, and convoluted plotlines go. After such a successful reboot, the question that loomed in the minds of fans everywhere was whether or not Craig & company could do it again and keep things fresh over multiple outings. I am most pleased to say that the answer is yes.

Say what you will about the off kilter title, Quantum of Solace is a most worthy addition to the 22 and counting Bond movies that have been arriving at a regular pace since 1962. It makes a very smart move by tying directly into plot threads from Casino Royale that promise to continue throughout Daniel Craig’s tenure without compromising a satisfying self-contained story. Events kick in just minutes after Royale’s finale with Bond on the lam from Italian authorities and packing the nefarious Mr. White in his trunk. When his interrogation ends with a shocking MI-6 double cross, it becomes apparent that Mr. White’s employers have a wider reach than anyone dare imagined. A brilliant bit of recon at a Vienna opera house reveals Quantum, a power hungry uber-secret cabal of bigwigs and fat cats who aim to control everything from who’s in charge of South American juntas to the price of tea in China. Bond’s first target? Dominic Greene: an eco-entrepreneur and philanthropist with a mysterious habit of buying up Bolivian wasteland and making nice with deposed dictators. Joining James on his mission is the lovely Camile (Olga Kurylenko), a steely beauty who has unfinished business with that dictator. The CIA tags along to muddy the waters and play both sides, much to the moral displeasure of recurring comrade Felix (Jeffrey Wright). The story plays out with just enough over the top Bond grandeur without ever succumbing to the idiocy of volcano bases, mega lasers, and the like.

Director Marc Forster does an excellent job as director, displaying skills that you’d never expect from the character pieces on his resume like Stranger Than Fiction and Finding Neverland. The action scenes he stages are lush, elaborate, and well choreographed, even if they lack some of the intensity present in the Bourne series. And the entire film has a pleasing modern aesthetic that makes it feel very 2008. But what really elevates Q of S beyond the majority of previous Bond outings is once again the gravity that Daniel Craig gives the character. At first, the pain of losing Vesper Lynd colors James’ every action: killing those best left alive, showing even less regard for authority and protocol than usual, pounding 6 martinis in a sitting. But as the film progresses, the story allows James to work out his issues in ways beyond the usual sex and vengeance (although they certainly help the healing process). A spy who’s not afraid to talk through his pain without losing one iota of his badass cred? That’s a James Bond for the 21st century.