No, not in the way the press reported that Daniel Craig couldn’t fire a gun and seemingly spent his hours on set filing his nails and falling over motorbikes, as seems to have been reported with gusto and glee.
No, not in that stereotypic way: in other, more intriguing stereotypic ways. Sure, Bond will always love the ladies, and in the exciting new action piece Casino Royale, Bond loves the ladies like Cool J, only with an English accent. A very fine English accent.
I’m talking about the franchise, and especially the new installment, the second filming of Casino Royale. The 1967 version was filled with Gay Icons, from Ursula Andress, Peter Sellers, Orson Welles, Joanna Pettet, to Woody Allen and Bill Holden. Now, that’s queer, what?
The new Casino Royale and the new Bond are captivating, deep, thoughtful while staying hyper-exciting and extraordinarily scenic and timely. It’s like a return to Connery, even though I also really, really liked well, George Lazenby. Those dimples and that impish grin- very Gstaad, if you know what I mean.
Bond has always been super gayish. My gawd, may I throw a few names at you? How about my old party 80’s buddies Grace Jones and transexual masterwork Tula? How about music by homo divinities Shirley Bassey and Tom Jones? Duran Duran? How about Madonna?
I expect the Tom Robinson band or Bronski Beat to pen the next theme song. Even in this new flick, it’s Chris Cornell, the heartthrob with the Perfect Hair and matching perfect eyes, belting out his version of the world of James Bond.
And how about those exotic locales, filled with Europeans in tuxes at all hours, heading from casino to casino to beach to casino again, living the vida loca, in any locale worthy of a black amex card. Oh, speaking of class, do I need to mention Dame Judi Dench? Do I?
Daniel Craig is the Blond Bond and he is so handsome in a heartbreaking way. Kinda like the time I was in Rock n Roll Ralph’s and Timothy Dalton was in the produce aisle, looking up with those impossibly sensitive baby blue eyes and the most sincere and winning smile since Gandhi.
I almost burst into tears then and there. The press was also cruel to his James Bond. Any talk of WimpBond for this outing is quickly quashed by the complete lack of any fey qualities to this man’s man (no, not that way, silly) and action star.
Casino Royale the novel is a crusty 50’s fable update with contemporary issues and predicaments. Casino Royale ’06 does go on, at over two hours. Much happens, and any longing for Austin Powers falls to the wayside as actual plot and convincing dialog move us along our merry way.
It is well scripted by series repeats Robert Wade and Neal Purvis. GoldenEye director Martin Campbell is back in the director’s chair, and does a fine job of reminding us of the Pierce Brosnan Golden Second Coming of Bond.
This franchise is stronger than ever, thanks in large part to Brosnan’s amazing performances in his four films for the Broccoli dude. Craig acquits himself with ease in the role and has a bright, blond future.
Oh, yeah, and the Bond antiheroes? Ernst Stavro Blofeld, nekkid kitty lovin’ mid century modern swingin’ 60’s surrounded iconoclastic poster boy for disfunction and relationship issues?
How very gay.
Now, go spend your Gay Dollars on this Bond and help keep MGM afloat. We’re only half way throught he Bond franchise, and I want an on camera—or at least a theme song-- from Elton before all is said and done.
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