Review: ‘Quantum of Solace’
Review: ‘Quantum of Solace’
1.5 stars out of 5
Nobody said espionage was easy. Nobody said Quantum of Solace had to be like Casino Royale but somebody should have pistol-whipped Nobody and locked him in the trunk of a car because Quantum of Solace, the 22nd Bond film in the series, is neither easy nor interesting. Worst of all is that this may be the worst Bond film since…well, ever. Quite simply, Quantum may be raking in the cash from its box office debut but this movie almost single-handedly sets back the franchise from the huge strides that its predecessor made with the Bond rebirth, Casino Royale. From a barely emotive female lead to a flaccid and uninspiring approach to storytelling, Marc Forster’s (Finding Neverland, Stranger Than Fiction) action dirge is awful and is fit for a round of water boarding.
Beginning where Casino Royal left off –a new feature for the franchise– James Bond (Daniel Craig) is in pursuit of a MI-6 (or Secret Service or Branch Division bodyguard, I can’t keep up with the multitude of Britain’s different intelligence agencies used in this film) traitor that has taken a shot at M (Judi Dench) during an interrogation of an agent from some underground terrorist syndicate. From here, the plot becomes so bloated and messy, you should be awarded an honorary degree from Oxford just for figuring out what Bond is after and just who are all these people he’s running into. Here is what we do know: An international earthy company run by Dominic Greene (Mathieu Amalric) who is somehow connected to the antagonists of the previous film and the death of Bond’s flame, Vesper Lynd (played by my favorite bond girl, Eva Green). Trailing the money used by Le Chiffre in Royale, Bond discovers Greene working with a deposed Bolivian dictator who is bent on taking back his power through Greene’s company. When Bond runs into Camille, a saucy Latin dish played by Ukranian dish Olga Kurylenko (Max Payne), they join forces on a revenge tour to assassinate said dictator for the murder of her family and find out who was blackmailing Vesper. Along the way we have a CIA outfit cozying up to bad guys (that NEVER happens) with token Yank, Felix Leiter (Jeffrey Wright) in tow along with a whole host of charted planes. The British government, worrying about Bond disobeying orders and taking things a smidgen too personal, looks to take in Bond before the Americans take him down. With tones of License to Kill, we find our hero escaping his own agency’s fatwa against him while evading an evil corporation/SPECTRE-ish organization (minus giant laser cannons that harness the power of the sun) that’s out to kill him. Plus a naked gal covered in oil in a nod to Goldfinger. How could it lose?
Easily, as it turns out.
Quantum of Solace looks good on the surface. A well-built Daniel Craig chasing rogue agents on Italian rooftops and dispatching baddies in boats, planes and operas, will turn the head of any movie fan but what is missing from the film is any and every semblance of emotion. Though I’m sure that ardent James Bond fans would contest this, the plot is so mismanaged and unfocused, audiences will be left wondering just what exactly is unfolding on screen. Between the many spectacular action sequences lies confusing chats between a multitude of government agencies, evil-doers, lovers and tons of mysterious foreign officials. None of which require an ounce of emotional investment. Cinematographer Roberto Schaefer, who up to this point has not filmed an action movie of this level, creates a visually staggering display of action but the fun dies there. Who can care about international intrigue if you have no idea who the lead character is chasing and why? One almost needs Bond’s secret service database to keep track of Quantum’s cast of brooding characters.
Daniel Craig is still the best Bond ever or, if you insist, since Sean Connery. He does a fantastic job to keep the film from spiraling out of control. Stoic and cold-blooded, Mr. Craig exhibits majesty and doom, all wrapped into steely-eyed brute. Dame Judi Dench is also welcome in an expanded role for M. Ms. Dench, who has been relegated to a marginal character in the series, has a beefier role this time around and it’s a pleasure to see. Her chemistry with Craig is welcome over the robotic exchange with Bond predecessor, Pierce Brosnan. Speaking of style over substance, Olga Kurylenko, who must have visited the tanning booth a few times too many, barely resonates with the audience. During a scene in which Bond and Camille exchange their stories of revenge, she is almost laughable. Ms. Kurylenko’s vacant stare doesn’t pull any empathy but instead begs questions about just what is going on in her head while she is reciting these lines. Perhaps she is worried about the long term effects of spray tan? But in the end is perfect symbolism for this movie.
Hot on the outside. Empty on the inside.
