This has been illuminating. I don’t particularly dislike the Craig era, but it gets a general “meh” from me overall. These questions are driving home to me that, at least so far, there is nothing from the era that I consider worth porting over into the next.
Last night I tried watching SF again and was reminded that Craig somehow manages to physically age more dramatically and quickly in the role than any other actor while also never quite evolving into a fully mature person. Mostly this manifests in his “Mommy issues” with M but on the whole he comes off as less assured than his predecessors, less self-sufficient, less resilient and less in control of his impulses, his temper and really his life than any other version of 007. In short, he’s a wreck. It made for an interesting spin on the character, but I have no interest in pursuing it further.
And yet he’s physically more invincible, surviving not just scores of opponents but any number of explosions, falls and wounds. From that CASINO ROYALE stairway fight, that left him visibly shaken because it was such a close thing, he practically evolved into an unstoppable Achilles figure, whose only vulnerable heel was his ‘family’: the woman he’s known for - what is it, weeks? months? - too short a time to even grow familiar with, and the daughter he’s seen for a day or two.
I’m not quite as critical of the Craig-verse, but a number of its elements ought to have been handled differently. The idea to have a Bond as if it was a real person, an actual character, is sadly undercut by the sheer super-human invincibility of this version of 007. Which is fatal for the whole enterprise.
There was a tendency in the Brosnan era to try and balance hand-wringing introspection with cartoon universe physics, and the Craig era doubles down on that. His Bond is haunted, emotionally wounded, occasionally morose and scarred, but at the same time he performs feats and survives injuries that would strain credulity in a Road Runner short. It’s interesting how often his run is held up as somehow more grounded and realistic than any other, when to me all the attempts to “humanize” the character with emotional torture just reinforce how ridiculous it is when he shrugs off explosions, gunshots, falls from impossible heights, etc. In SF, for instance, 3 months go by with bullet fragments under his collar bone until he decides maybe he’ll dig them out himself with a pocket knife, but only so they can be examined by the MI6 techs. Otherwise, maybe he’d have left them in there forever. Happily I’ve never been shot before, but considering how uncomfortable a splinter feels when it’s under my skin, it’s hard to imagine carrying on for 3 months, indifferent to the jagged metallic objects lodged in my upper chest.
What struck me in last night’s viewing was how often the word “boyish” popped into my head to describe Craig. Part of that might be that haircut that makes him look like a 12-year old from 1953, but I think there’s more to it than that. He just never quite seems to come into his own IMO as a fully formed adult. At the very least, Craig’s Bond is not an aspirational figure as the earlier versions were, and if there’s any one thing I most miss, it’s probably that. Just pragmatically, you’d think it would be in Eon’s best interest when trying to sell fashions, watches, etc with the 007 brand to make the character someone we might actually want to BE, and not someone to pity, however fascinating that might be from a dramatic standpoint.
I’m baffled how absurdly well business actually seems to run in this regard, judging by that 007-site and channels like The Bond Experience. In sartorial terms, in spite of some very tight suits, Craig’s Bond seems more influential than any other version. Stuff is touted you’d never have expected Bond to wear, for absurd sums (and at times horrible quality, thinking of shoes that start crumbling their soles after a ride in a Porsche and a day in a fitted carpet office) - and this stuff sells like sliced bread.
Sure, this is niche stuff for niche customers who will keep it in air conditioned walk-in wardrobes and display cases. But apparently we’re not yet at the point of market saturation that would preclude such nonsense.
The earlier iterations occurred when maturity was valued. The societal trend now is to remain boyish–50 is the new 40–and not relinquish a soupcon of roguish (sorry) immaturity. Most comic book heroes are teenagers or twentysomethings.
Earlier Bonds could mourn/avenge the death of a lover/wife. Craig Bond can only dismissively refer to a deceased love as a bitch.
Yeah, I don’t get it. Even if I wanted to dress like Craig’s Bond and (a much bigger if) I could afford it, I really can’t imagine anyone saying (or thinking) “Wow, you look like James Bond” because I had any of that stuff on. For whatever reason, I don’t even think of Craig’s Bond as having a “look,” per se. Unlike his predecessors, he’s as likely to wear chinos and a ball cap as he is a tailored suit, so really the only way to look like Craig-Bond is to have his face (and I’ll pass on that one too, thanks).
You have seen through my little ruse. I was wondering this myself the other night hence this parlour game. There might be something, but I am slightly at a loss what it might be.
Interestingly, ‘The bitch is dead.’ was the end of Casino Royale and of Vesper - and nobody would have expected to ever hear again about her.
And yet six years later, Bond himself, out of the blue, wonders how to explain Tilly to Vesper in the afterlife (as he’s got reason to believe they are dead). Another four years on we learn Bond has been visiting Vesper’s grave every September (for the past decade, one assumes).
A very inconsistent - but perhaps all the more human? - approach.
The films follow suit, with Craig-Bond unable to ever put Vesper behind him despite acting like he didn’t care. Although in the case of the films it feels less like “fealty to Fleming” and more like, “Wow, we hit a home run with Casino Royale but we didn’t think it through beyond that. Let’s keep Bond where he was in that one no matter how old he gets.”
I thought the little pause in SPECTRE when Bond finds the archived tapes of White, Vesper’s amongst them, would have made a more fitting and emotional reaction than the entire QUANTUM OF SOLACE. Would have been enough, too. Keep the emotional reverberations sparse and low key.
Agreed. Craig Bond is about overcoming/moving past trauma (trauma being a huge cultural touchstone during Craig’s run).
But in true trauma narrative fashion, nobody wants to carry it over into a new day. So where Connery Bond could become (briefly) Lazenby Bond, and then (sustainably) Moore Bond, there is no morphing of Craig Bond into the next iteration–hence the suitability/inevitability of killing Craig Bond off.
Connery Bond is still on that cruise ship. Lazenby Bond is still weeping on that road. Moore Bond is still in outer space (my preferred vision). (Dalton and Brosnan were deprived such closure)
That’s the catch here. Superficially it’s all about overcoming trauma - but it’s never really overcome. It’s repeatedly staged as if it was - ‘Bond, James Bond’; ‘I never left.’ - but with every new chapter trauma is back. Until it’s ultimately even handed down to some sad woman and her poor daughter.
Perhaps this is what makes it all so dreadfully depressing, it’s not just a tragic tale, it’s a full blown Greek tragedy.
This is my issue with a number of characters, case in point Batman. The murder of his parents was originally a tidbit of backstory that added depth to the character, but now it’s come to define him. If you ask anyone what they know about him, it’ll probably be “dresses like a bat, is really rich, watched his parents die.” In vintage comics, stories dealing with the murder of the Waynes were rare but memorable (first he encounters Joe Chill, who pulled the trigger, and later Lew Moxon, who sanctioned the hit). If you caught those stories, hooray for you but if you didn’t, no harm done. The point was Batman was a hero; you didn’t have to have seen the “pilot episode” to get it.
These days Batman is defined – indeed defines himself – by his victimhood. He is irretrievably scarred by childhood trauma and thus forever unable to lead anything like a normal life. Other kids become orphans, other people – far too many, alas – end up on the wrong end of a crime, but many of them are able to move on to full and healthy lives. Not this guy. He wallows in that well of despair and bitterness 24/7. So over time he’s gone from a crimefighter who just happens to have an interesting backstory should you ever feel like looking it up, to a psychologically damaged rage machine who can’t move beyond past hurts and tries to fix the world with his fists. I can’t say I’m a big fan of fetishising a character who (1) is incapable of dealing with loss and (2) teaches us that beating the crap out of folks is the best way to cope. Like Craig-Bond, I get the appeal from a story-telling point of view, but these are not guys I consider heroes.
That’s why I watch Batman The Movie at least once a year. Seeing and hearing Adam West say lines like: “Somedays you just can’t get rid of a bomb!” gives me a huge laugh.
Which mirrors what has occurred in society. For a long time, people were thought to be born bad or good, and that all behavior was a matter of choice. Then starting in the 1970s, the realization took hold that people often did not just “pull themselves up by their bootstraps” or “get over things.” Trauma, its effects, and its remission were understood differently.
This new understanding had a profound impact on art and art-making, both popular art and more esoteric instances.