Urban Thought Collective

Movie Biases: C’mon now – you tell me!

Major Players: Daniel Craig, Judi Dench, Jeffrey Wright, co-writer Paul Haggis, director Marc Forster.

Logline: Avenging the death of his duplicitous love Vesper Lynd, James Bond (Craig) pursues a wealthy, shady environmentalist (Mathieu Amalric) who’s cutting deals with the CIA, Bolivian government, and a nefarious, power-hungry dictator (Joaquin Cosio) while possibly leading Bond to the shadowy host organization behind it all.

The Deal:
“I need to know I can trust you.” – M (Dench) to James Bond. How apropos. Kicking off with a frenetic Aston Martin-Alfa Romeo car chase beginning, “Solace” offers the hope, if not promise, that the Bond franchise reboot is more than the fluke that was “Casino Royale.” Despite Bond staples such as exotic locales (Italy, Haiti, Austria, Bolivia, Russia) shaken and not stirred with only the finest suits, hotels, and women, the most rugged, brutal Bond (movie) ever (and first ever sequel, picking up moments after the end of “Royale”) features some definite “wow” moments, but not a cohesive, collective “wow.”

“There’s something horribly efficient about you,” states badass Bond chick/fellow vengeance-seeker Camille (Olga Kurylenko) of Bond. Same could be said of this movie, one where the parts play greater than the whole. David Arnold’s (“Casino Royale”) unrelenting score is a perfectly tense supporting character. “Solace” is cut from “The Bourne Ultimatum” school of action editing, but a little too much so, to the point it’s hard to get your bearings with the relentless pacing of action; it’s good for a scene or two, but not for multiple ten minute segments. I like a movie dedicated to action, but it must be COMPREHENSIBLE action. Amalric’s bug-eyed environmental terrorist villain follows the newer Bondian antagonist model favoring sociopolitical devastation to worldwide domination, this one specializing in the destabilization of Third World economies and governments in a labyrinthine plot that defies explanation, if not comprehension.

Daniel Craig’s Bond is a joyless warrior, plowing through challenge after challenge with almost robotic athleticism, a one man Terminator of a remorseless killing machine. Imprisoned by his own inconsolable rage and general distrust of everyone, Craig does everything asked of him, albeit with little humor or joy found in the last Bond movie, having gone Palin – I mean rogue – in a fashion where “everything [he] touch[es] seems to wither and die.” We get that Bond’s steely heart has been broken therefore everyone must pay, but I miss the hint of impish recklessness that made Craig’s Bond so accessible and, well, human in the first movie, shattered heart be damned.

His performance, like so many elements in this movie, takes its cues from director Marc Forster. Yes, that Marc Forster of “Finding Neverland.” Yes, that Marc Forster of “The Kite Runner.” Yes, that Marc Forster of the small dramas with Oscar cachet (“Monster’s Ball”), an inspired choice for an action franchise that now seems content to continually reinvent itself. With all the propulsive action onscreen, Forster could be merely overcompensating for his reputation, if not his very nature, as a drama guy. At times, this unorthodox Bond director background plays beautifully, as in an operatic, “Fifth Element”-like action sequence set to an aria during an opera itself. For the most part, the risk the Broccolis took as producers to hire Forster doesn’t quite pay off like it should for a $200 million extension of a global franchise.

Not that it’s entirely Forster’s fault. “Solace” is trapped under the weight of its own outsized expectations with “Casino Royale” having set the bar impossibly high with its franchise goosing reboot in ‘06. To put it into perspective, imagine “The Dark Knight” NOT being as good as “Batman Begins,” the Batman franchise reboot with Christian Bale (don’t – we know it’s BETTER). If you can imagine that, then you can visualize what “Quantum of Solace” will mean to the Bond fan. Mix in the abject waste of a scowling Jeffrey Wright, the most athletic James Bond in history, and a decent Alicia Keys song, find not solace in “Quantum.” Just rewatch “Casino Royale.”

@@ REELS

(TWO REELS)

Extra medium.

UTC’s resident film critic Edwardo Jackson is the author of the novels EVER AFTER and NEVA HAFTA, (Villard/Random House), a writer for The 213 Magazine, and an LA-based screenwriter. Visit his website at www.edwardojackson.com where his new novel I DO? is available NOW.