Bourne Again

The new James Bond movie, “Quantum of Solace,� opens with a bang —57 bangs, if you are counting. Bond (Daniel Craig) navigates a fast car on a mountain road in Italy. Trailing him are two operatives from Quantum, an international crime syndicate with motives so secret that no one in the organization actually knows what they are.

   Before you can fully register the scene, two operatives are reduced to none.

   Details are hazy: a whine of engine, a hiss of brakes, and the flash of a fireball. The audience seemed especially impressed when Bond jumped lanes and headed straight for oncoming traffic.

   As a rule, the first five minutes of a Bond movie are generally the best. So far, so great.

   Now imagine my surprise in the following scene, when Bond, safely parked at company HQ, opens the car trunk. The moment carries with it

a delicious set of expectations. What is the secret agent going to wow us with this time, you think to yourself, drooling.

   What will it be?

   A tasty pre-dinner drink?

   A hand-tooled safari suit with distressed zebra twill and matching golf gear?

   A set of toiletries pinched from the hotel room in Cairo?

   Not close.

   Pop goes the trunk and Bond’s cargo is revealed to be none other than Mr. White (Jesper Christiansen) the Quantum operative whom Bond had — good chap — capped once in the leg in the final moments of “Casino Royaleâ€� (2006).

   Taking its title from an Ian Flemming story, “Quantum of Solaceâ€� is the 22nd Bond movie since 1962. It is also the first proper sequel. Quantum begins moments after “Casino Royaleâ€� left off. The memory of that earlier movie trails like a ghost. Bond is still

seeking the head of Quantum following the death of his girlfriend, Vesper Lynd. (Bond also believes that Lynd double-crossed him. Bond mad.) So,

despite its baroque title, Quantum is in fact the leanest and meanest type of movie: the revenge picture.

   Now, this is good news. We have grown so weary of the inflated Bond

movie devices — the interplanetary lasers, the invisible cars, the telecommunications villains who must sate their desire HA! HA! HA! for cable news domination — that you want to applaud a movie that depends

on nothing more than settling scores.

   Needless to say, Quantum takes Bond’s revenge very seriously indeed. Like it’s predecessor, Quantum leaves you bruised. The defining moment of the movie for me, at least, was not the farrago trips to Italy,

Chile, and Caribbean hideaways, but the scene where Bond, having

disabled a man in a fight, appears to go ahead and break one of his fingers, too. At such moments Craig’s eyes, which run from tough-guy hurt to heartless brute, appear as warm as Vladimir Putin’s. Like the Russian president, Bond holds due process in curious disregard.

   On the side of Bond are M (Judi Dench), Felix Leiter (Jeffrey Wright)

and Mathis (Giancarlo Giannini), all reprising their roles from “Casino

Royale.� On the side of evil is Dominic Green (an excellently slithering Mathieu Amalric), who poses as an environmentalist but actually is — as these things go — the head of Quantum.

   “Quantum of Solaceâ€� has a serious director, Marc Forster (“Monster’s

Ball,� “Stranger than Fiction�) which is almost unheard of for the

series. Serious is the world for this movie, too, as Bond develops the

habit of killing off all his leads — often with his bare hands. Stripped

of the series trademarks, like techno-gadget-wizardry and girl-ogling, that hit a nadir in the last couple of Pierce Brosnan

movies, Craig has certainly remade the role of Bond. He is brutal and

brooding.

   He is also no longer the undisputed top spy. Many of the fight sequences in “Quantum of Solaceâ€� are hectically composed and edited. One fumbled lunge across the rooftops of Siena made me think of the crash course accomplishments of that other dead-eyed espionage devil in the movies.

   The name is Bourne. Jason Bourne.

“Quantum of Solace� is rated PG-13 for violence.

It is playing everywhere

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