I was disappointed there was so little dialogue, flirtation or characterization in this Bond: Forster and his writers Paul Haggis, Neal Purvis and Robert Wade clearly thought this sort of sissy nonsense has to be cut out in favor of explosions. Well, perhaps that is what Bond fans want (not this Bond fan, though). But I was also baffled that relatively little was made of the deliciously villainous Amalric: especially the final encounter.
But set against this is the cool, cruel presence of Craig — his lips perpetually semi-pursed, as if savoring some new nastiness his opponents intend to dish out to him, and the nastiness he intends to dish out in return. This film, unlike the last, doesn’t show him in his powder-blue swimming trunks (the least heterosexual image in 007 history), but it’s a very physical performance. Quantum of Solace isn’t as good as Casino Royale: the smart elegance of Craig’s Bond debut has been toned down in favor of conventional action. But the man himself powers this movie; he carries the film: it’s an indefinably difficult task for an actor. Craig measures up.
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