Quantum of what?

Quantum of Solace is not a Bond film. Well, not in a conventional sense at least. There’s no “Bond, James Bond,” no “shaken, not stirred,” very limited quantities of PG-13 sex, and the film’s title? What the hell is that? But that’s not to say the film itself is bad. In fact, it’s pretty good. It’s simply missing some of the classic Bond elements that will undoubtedly disappoint 007 purists.

Quantum of Solace is not a Bond film. Well, not in a conventional sense at least. There’s no “Bond, James Bond,” no “shaken, not stirred,” very limited quantities of PG-13 sex, and the film’s title? What the hell is that? But that’s not to say the film itself is bad. In fact, it’s pretty good. It’s simply missing some of the classic Bond elements that will undoubtedly disappoint 007 purists.

Quantum of Solace is, in essence, a sequel to 2006’s Casino Royale, arguably the finest Bond flick ever committed to celluloid. Having a sequel is unusual in the canon of Bond films, as each adventure has successfully operated as a standalone narrative ever since Sean Connery took the role of the gentleman spy in 1962’s Dr. No.

Obviously there has always been some continuity between Bond films, but each of the 21 films up to this point has stood on their own. You could hypothetically rent Die Another Day (God only knows why you would) and watch it without the need for any sort of preamble. This is not the case with Quantum of Solace. Quantum‘s outstanding cold open is a car chase that takes place mere hours after the conclusion of Casino Royale. For those of you who have not yet seen Casino Royale, I would recommend skipping this article, since there are references to major plot points from that film. You have been warned.

We are soon alerted to the fact that Bond has a guest in the vehicle, a certain Mr. White, the man who had arranged for Le Chiffre to play financier to the African rebels, events that took place during Casino Royale. After shaking the baddies that are doing horrible, unspeakable damage to his beautiful Aston Martin, Bond, along with M, gets down to interrogating Mr. White about an apparently far-reaching organization that has its hand in all sorts of shady dealings.

“The first thing you should know about our organization,” explains Mr. White coolly, “is that we have people everywhere.” Oh man, so ambiguous and non-specific. What could that possibly mean? Oh never mind, someone just pulled a gun and shit hit the fan.

Bond then gets his Bourne on by chasing a traitorous associate of Mr. White’s through the claustrophobic streets and over the sun-drenched rooftops of Siena, Italy. From here on out, the film feels like one giant chase/action sequence interrupted only occasionally for an unfriendly discourse or some manner of globetrotting (as is Bond tradition, 007 racks up plenty of frequent flyer miles).

But don’t expect any of the aforementioned discourse to be particularly deep. This film is about one thing: revenge. Bond is out to kill the man who killed Vesper (his romantic interest circa Casino Royale).

The villain this go-around is Dominic Greene, a creepy businessman whose public persona is one of concerned eco-activist, but privately uses his power and wealth to profit off of an environmentally friendly evil.

French actor Mathieu Amalric is excellent as Greene, a pernicious and arrogant madman. Of course, what would a Bond film be without the Bond girls? Gemma Arterton portrays the sexily polite MI6 agent Strawberry Fields, while the smoking-hot Olga Kurylenko takes the role of Bolivian agent Camille Montes.

And there’s the always-fantastic Judi Dench who returns as M, and the underrated Jeffrey Wright is back as CIA agent Felix Leiter.

Needless to say, Daniel Craig is outstanding, and in my opinion, is the best Bond ever (yes, better than Connery). Craig’s Bond is a secret-agent sex machine, yes, but he’s a secret-agent sex machine with feelings, even if those feelings have been numbed by the loss of someone he loves.

Craig gives us a Bond we can believe in. Where once Bond’s dry wit and easy smile indicated amusement, even swagger, now they serve only to mask his frozen rage in his unyielding and relentless pursuit of justice.

Casino Royale set the bar high, perhaps too high, for Bond films to come, and as much as it might pain me to say it, Quantum of Solace does not exceed the bar. It’s fun, exciting and action packed, but missing is the character-driven story that was so refreshing in Casino Royale.

Alas, it may have been inevitable. The story in Quantum of Solace feels more like it should have been the conclusion to Casino Royale. There isn’t a ton of substance to the narrative; rather, its sole purpose in its brief 95 minutes is depicting Bond’s revenge.

Marc Forster probably wasn’t the best choice for director here. After films like Monster’s Ball, Finding Neverland, Stranger Than Fiction and The Kite Runner, I’m not sure what possessed the producers to choose such a sensitive, drama friendly candidate.

Perhaps they had hoped Forster would inject some much needed character and emotion into a script heavy on action and brutality. Instead, it would seem that Forster, entirely out of his element, just pushed the action as hard as he could, hoping no one would notice his resume.

But, I won’t disregard Quantum of Solace. I can’t. As a Bond lover, I can see the cup as half full. Quantum of Solace is necessary. The revenge that Bond seeks, the blinding anger that he feels after losing Vesper is something that needs to be worked through in order for Bond to continue.

Quantum of Solace is Bond’s cathartic journey for redemption and forgiveness (albeit fists and guns do most of the talking). But if 007 can engage in explosive action, save the world and lay a chick named Strawberry Fields in the process, I’m not going to complain.

Quantum of Solace*** 1/2 starsIn theaters today