funkylady
αγαπιέμαι
Bond, James Bond. Women and men alike, shrieked.
Finally watched the latest 007 film after several weeks of indecision. When I first learned months ago or was that a year ago, that Pierce Brosnan turned down the offer to continue portraying one of the world's most beloved spy, I thought people would lose interest in watching it. For me, Brosnan and the previous Bond actors fit the role to a T, and when I saw the trailer for Casino Royale and saw this overly-pumped up guy with a facial expression similar to Ben Stiller's Blue Steel look, I said, this is totally screwed up.
It's difficult to swallow your pride and admit you're wrong. But I was, totally. Chris Cornell's vocals opened the film singing You Know My Name and people were confused if they're watching Ian Fleming's creation. It was definitely worlds away from the usual catchy rhythm so enmeshed with his films.
The film was stripped off to its basic, no kick-ass gadgets that personified the previous Bond epics. There were still hot women but this time it did away with the stereotypical hot-woman-bed-scene-with-James eagerly anticipated by male moviegoers. The film traced back the origins of Bond's habits and preferences which gave more depth to the infamous character. Tthe film was more edgy and three dimensional.
When the bartender asked if he prefers his martini shaken or stirred, the reply was: "Do I look like I give a damn?" This was when Daniel Craig won me (or maybe earlier than this part though I hate to admit it) and stopped getting distracted by his pout.
*****
Labels: Movies