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Reconsidering "Quantum of Solace": Jack White & Alicia Keys "Another Way To Die"

I spent the last several weeks working through all of the Bond films in chronological order. It made for a great time and I reckon' that some enterprising film professor could construct a class around that theme given all of the advances in technology, script evolution, and social attitudes that are well captured in each of the films. However, designing a course that cool and stimulating would be asking too much from modern higher education methinks.

Bond reels, regardless of overall quality, bring different redeeming assets to the table. Some have incredible opening sequences or title tracks, some have plots that are halfway worthy. Most have a decent sense of style. However, that is the subject of another screed.

It's funny what stays constant and what evolves as time marches on. Sean Connery still reigns supreme, while Roger Moore, with a handful exceptions, becomes almost unwatchable. Although it is well known in most circles, there is little doubt that Daniel Craig is nipping at Connery's heels for top dog in the Bond pantheon. Yet, since Connery set the stage and standard so well, toppling him from his perch will be near impossible, even for a man who executes the role with as much grit and talent as Craig.   When I was a whelp, I used to love the Roger Moore films, especially Moonraker and The Spy Who Loved Me. The defect in that judgement can be chalked up to the ignorance of unrefined youth and an obtuse obsession with space lasers and a Lotus that transforms into an attack submarine. Now it is challenging to sit through those films without to aid of some bourbon or gin. The acting is non-existent, and the plots ans writing are thinner than low-grade toilet paper. Lazenby benefits from a one of the best Bond babes, Diana Rigg, and Dalton and Brosnan get passable grades for their respective contributions, although Brosnan's film felt like video games at times towards the end of their implementation.

Casino Royale changed my whole understanding of the Bond universe and re-ignited my passion for the series in ways that even surprised me. Initially, I didn't like Quantum of Solace on account of its frenetic action sequences, which can induce an epileptic fit, if watched with too much focus. However, upon a second reviewing, Quantum really has a great plot (for the most part), and builds substantially off of the expectations established by Casino Royale. Having been introduced to a new global force, "Quantum" and leaving the sub-plot of Mr. White open, the audience is excellently ingrained into a compelling story arc. Sadly, MGM bankruptcy leaves the future of the franchise and its production schedule in doubt.

All that being stated, Alicia Keys and Jack White do a decent job with the title track, "Another Way To Die." Strong, innovative, and appropriate, it isn't the best Bond title song, yet, it gets better with each listening.

Beauty

The delectable Eva Green, portraying Vesper Lynd, in Casino Royale. A modern day Helen of Troy? Perhaps...

Bond: Man Talk

Timeless scene from Goldfinger. Gone are the days.

Bond, Fan Art, and Natural Talent

The rather nifty illustration of Connery era Bond imagery featured above is the handy work of an artist named Lloyd Peek. It was posted on this blog with permission from Mr. Peek and he can be contacted at lloydpeek@hotmail.com if you have any inquiries about other Bond illustrations. The werewolf has never meet Mr. Peek and knows very little about him, other than he and the werewolf share a deep interest and affection for virtually all things Bond. Peek contacted he werewolf via this blog's stated interest in Bond over several different posts. The piece itself does a wonderful job giving a truncated illustration of the Connery Bond era from Dr. No (1962) through Diamonds are Forever (1971). (The werewolf has excised all recollection of Never Say Never Again, as it was produced and distributed on account of cosmic villainy) In the bottom right hand corner we have the first real Bond babe Honey Ryder emerging from the surf of the Caribbean with a conch shell in hand not unlike the mythical live goddess Venus emerging on from the Mediterranean on seashells. In the top left, we have the ironically mysterious and timeless image of Bond arch-nemesis, Erst Stravro Blofeld, sitting in the beige Mandarin-style suit with his sinister white lap cat.  In between, we have the timeless Austin Martin DB5 (arguably the coolest car ever), the lethal-mute butler Odd Job, Willard White's "White House" Vegas Hotel, amongst others images. Although it's not the werewolf's preferred artwork, it's certainly cool and catchy, especially if you're a Bond fan.

This brings the werewolf to a second point about talent. The werewolf has always been impressed with those who have a talent that manifests itself obviously and are able to harness that talent to effective end. Some people are athletes, others artists, musicians, writers, social networking, handymen, or cooks to name a few avenues that talent can be realized. The curtains are drawing to a close on the werewolf's third decade, and he has yet to figure out his talent/niche. Perhaps, there is a talent in being talentless. Having a talent or skill that the werewolf is truly exceptional at still eludes him. It's not that he is looking hard, he isn't. Nor does he need validation. He has made it this far and is very comfortable in his own skin. It's just he wonders if he missing out on anything life offers considering the absence of any obvious talents to bring to the table. His darkly Darwinian side wonders if his lack of a talent is the source of his preference for solitude and speaks to his primordial instinct to be wary and skeptical of commitment(on the flip-side he places an extraordinarily high premium on things he is committed to because he knows and values his word and the notion of commitment unlike most others in society). The werewolf is a lone wolf at heart. As he watches so many contemporaries shackle themselves in the bonds of marriage for all the wrong reason, such as fear of being alone, societal validation or some other imagined social pressure, perhaps finding solace in solitude is a talent unto itself.

Bond Title Sequence: On Her Majesty's Secret Service

To those that know him, it is no secret that the werewolf is an enthusiastic Bond fan. When he was a whelp, the werewolf's parents made the wise decision to allow him to watch all of the Bond films he could tolerate. Not only did this inform a young werewolf's sense of style (Connery), reinforce his love for the ladies, and cement his anti-communist credo, but it made him a wonderful and young jerk with an attitude. By the age of six or seven, the werewolf had committed most of the Bond films to memory, including the skiing scenes in On Her Majesties Secret Service, A View to A Kill, For Your Eyes Only and The Spy Who Loved Me. Based purely on the fact that he had watched Bond ski in four different films, the young werewolf was convinced that he himself could ski. Looking back on it, I can't think of a more ridiculous, arrogant, or asshole way to conduct myself. Needless to say, after a spectacular wipe-out, the werewolf whelp was ready to abide by his mother's advice and take skiing lessons.

Over the years, the werewolf's consistent love for the Bond franchise has manifested and matured in different ways including several failed attempts at romancing worthy young women with crass and crude one-liners. Alas, those tales merit a different post.

The werewolf has often felt that On Her Majesties Secret Service is the most under-appreciated Bond film. This isn't an attempt to glorify George Lazenby, he still sucks. Rather it is a testament to the film's captivating plot-line, which is unusually strong for a Bond film, along with the sensational beauty of Dianna Rigg (the werewolf's all time favorite Bond girl), and the clever villainy of  Telly Savalas as Bond arch-nemesis Blofeld. The music in the score along with Louis Armstrong's contribution of "We Have All the Time In World" are unreal. Anyhow, the werewolf loves the inter-franchise historical highlights captured in this Bond films opening sequence. Thoughts?

Duran Duran: A View To A Kill

There's nothing like a little blast from the past to lift deflated spirits. Despite being a hard-rocker at heart, the werewolf is an unapologetic fan of almost all things 80's. His Achilles heel is the pop music of that era. Duran Duran qualifies as one of his favorite distinctly 80's legacies. It's good to see that Duran Duran has aged relatively well and still performs their music with gusto and heart, while remaining true to their 80's roots.

This song holds an especially important place in the werewolf's black heart. Not only is it a guilty pleasure from the 80's, but it is also one of the better theme songs from a Bond film. The werewolf was raised on Bond films and loosely bases his life on emulating some things Bond. While the namesake Bond film leaves something to be desired and is one of the weaker installments in the venerable film franchise, there is no doubt that this song rates as one the best Bond themes. If you listen closely, you'll notice this song has a mean base line.

This song is definitely on the werewolf's karaoke list when he liberates himself from exile. Beware. He's got some mean moves planned to compensate for his lack of talent.

Will the next Bond flick be on a "Road to Perdition," or captive to an "American Beauty?"

Sam Mendes to direct next Bond pic.

A friend recently sent me the this from The Hollywood Report on the latest development involving the 23rd Bond installment. Although, not an uber-devout Sam Mendes fan, the werewolf thinks this bodes well for next Bond film.While American Beauty was somewhat dark, twisted, and enjoyable, it was also incredibly overrated. It's indictment of middle class suburban conformity was drowned out by the psycho kid in a beanie constantly filming plastic bags blowing in the wind. The Road to Perdition, which incidentally features Daniel Craig as a villain, has an incredibly magnetic narrative, and qualifies as a damn decent film on all levels. This leads us to the fate of Bond 23. The werewolf thinks that as long as it is better than Quantum of Solace, (which shouldn't pose a challenge for a director like Mendes) everything will be alright.

The werewolf has been a disciple of all things Bond since about the age of three. Especially Connery's presence as Bond. The werewolf's sense of style, automotive preferences, and other social assumptions are highly predicated on the first several Bond installments, along with most of Fleming's Bond novels and novellas. He'll leave his scathing criticism of the ridiculous Pierce Brosnan Bond years for another post, but he does want to direct some legitimate ire at Quantum of Solace's confused and messy translation onto the big screen. Following 2006's Casino Royale, and its smashing reinvigoration of the then rudderless Bond franchise, the werewolf thought that Hollywood had finally gotten something right. That assumption was promptly blown apart by Quantum of Solace.

The werewolf's primary concern is the blurring of the James Bond and Jason Bourne franchises. Granted, Quantum of Solace is the only theatrical release highlighting this claim. Quantum of Solace over-emphasized a series of confusing, crack fueled action sequences throughout several portions of the film without ever really unfolding a plot or sense of direction. It was one part revenge, one part poorly executed nostalgia, and one part high velocity Jason Bourne action, with very little of the gritty essence that made Casino Royale such a thrilling and worthy film.

Don't get the werewolf wrong, the Bourne films, despite their distinctive anti-American positioning, and the continual and unoriginal "the CIA is at the root of all evil plot lines," are fun. Although the third Bourne installment, The Bourne Ultimatum, possessed such violent and shaky camera work that the werewolf nearly slipped into an epileptic fit during some of the chase sequences. It is crucial for Hollywood to remember that Bond is not Bourne, despite both being super spy assassins.

Bourne is a man without an identity, perpetually in search of who he is/was. No past, uncertain future, and profound insecurities about his gift for killing. There is no specific mission portfolio, he was indelibly damaged by all sorts of strange psychological programing, and although an uber-badass, his story is that of lost soul looking for home. He is in many ways a rejection of most things American and all things super-spy, while being well packaged into a trio of decent action flicks.

Bond is the exact opposite. Beyond the simple fact that he is an Englishman. He is man who knows exactly who/what he is and is extremely comfortable in that role. He is Her Majesty's foremost double-0 assassin and he is damn good at it. Everything he does, he does for England. Whereas Bourne is constantly searching for who he is, Bond is constantly trying to improve and hone his skill sets. To apply a business school term from my operations class, Bond is the human embodiment of kaizen. Bond isn't without his pitfalls, we learn that once in a blue moon, he gets a little soft and actually likes one of the women he beds, but always corrects course quickly, and reemerges a stronger, better killing machine. Bond also has a defined background. He is an accomplished naval officer, orphan, card player, vice aficionado, womanizer, well heeled and groomed gentlemen, with a roguish suaveness, and classically inclined killing streak. He is the uber-patriot who will accept any mission for his country, and do whatever it takes to complete that mission. As we've seen, he even has a flair for bending the rules, when needed to execute the task at hand.

Beyond sultry and devilishness temptresses, British sports cars, tailored Savile Row suits, his Walther PPK, sharp wit, and killer instinct, Bond should avoid any DNA transfusions from Bourne. He needs to carve out his own niche, while maintaining a connection to his established legacy. Bond's direction can evolve with the times, as it should. The Cold War has ended. New global threats from Islamic jihadists, global drug cartels, and rogue states partly define the new security paradigm, and Bond can rise up to those challenges on his terms. I just hope that Mendes, and the writers for this installment, push Bond down a road toward perdition, more than having him contemplate and reenact a Jason Bourne cameo in American Beauty.

Has it been 10 years since the Millennium? Y2K, where are you?

The werewolf knows he probably deserves to be hate-crimed for posting such a cliched Robbie Williams video that most of the world would like to forget. (At least it features Bond's Austin Martin DB5 from Goldfinger) But Prince's "1999" video is nowhere to be found on youtube. Sloppy seconds, kids.

Anyhow, the werewolf has long been imbued with a profoundly misanthropic streak, and it manifested back during the amusingly dark days of the Y2K drama. Being home in Los Angeles from boarding school, and having a few openings in my social calendar, I recall deliberately detouring past LAX on my way how from a dinner in Santa Monica with the hopes of catching some airport mayhem. Despite all of the hype and hoopla, nothing eventful occurred to the delight of many, but to the mild disappointment of the werewolf. Gone are the days.

Still, it's been one helluva a decade for the werewolf, filled with many thrills, loves, travels, schools, jobs, friends, and memories. Although he is ending the first decade of this century in exile, he appreciates the fact that the bar has been set low for future decades. Here's to making lemons into limoncello. Happy 2010.