The busiest travel time of the holidays. Glad I’m not driving anywhere — of course, if I had been, I woulda left yesterday. Today is also a very busy day for pizza schleppers — given how much everybody is going to be cooking tomorrow, want to know how much they want to do today? Not. At. All. Anyway, day time at the Indy might be normal — there might be a few corporate pizza parties before the holiday (assuming any businesses are open), but night time is when its really going to kick into high gear. I expect tonight’ll be balls-to-the-walls busy, and even though we close at ten, I figure I won’t be out until 10:30 at the earliest. Of course, I’ve been wrong before, and with the oddness of the season up to this point, it wouldn’t surprise me if we’re completely dead.
Black Friday, on the other hand, will be dead. True also for the weekend: everyone will have a fridge full of left-overs to keep them “left over” throughout the weekend. Maybe football Sunday’ll be okay, but we’ll see.
Yeah, so in case you didn’t read the “title” too carefully, let me spell it out for you: I’m going to talk about plot points here, ‘k? If you don’t want me to “spoil” the movie for you, perhaps you should carefully consider reading some of my other recent posts. Like, my most previous post? Four more people showed up to my night class. Ten students in all. Less than half the class, and he dismissed us at the break. Seriously, I should’ve skipped.
(My neck hurts, and typing is a bit of a pain, so you’re not getting any fancy links or font italics or shit like that. Well, maybe one link, just because I like you, and I’m already suffering. Ow.)
My introduction to Bond came on a cold winter night in late 1995 or early 1996 when I went to see “GoldenEye” with my dad. This was at the theater in downtown Columbia before the mall got a theater. I can’t even remember the theater’s name, and I can’t remember if Snowden River had opened yet, although I imagine it hadn’t (anyone else a teen in Columbia in the 90’s?). Anyway, so my introduction to Bond, the first Bond movie I ever saw, was GoldenEye. I think its true that the Bond actor who you first see in the role is how you forever picture the character, so my Bond was a suave handsome Englishman who drove BMWs, traded up his PPK to a P99, and had a gadget for every imagineable situation. My Bond was less of a spy and more of an action hero.
What a change! I think the approach to Casino Royale is similar to that taken with Batman Begins — the filmmakers have wiped the slate clean, and began afresh with a more grounded-in-reality Bond. Whereas in Die Another Day Bond drove an Aston Martin equipped with skis, shotguns, and a Klingon cloaking device, Craig’s Bond drives an Aston Martin which packs a defibrilator and a fancy radio. The fanciest gadgets are a palm-pilot, a supressor for his Walther P99, and a biometric device (Q shows up not at all). I read somewhere, on the internet no doubt, someone mentioning that whereas previous Bonds have taken their cues from the likes of Michael Bay, Casino Royale looks towards The Bourne Identity — this is no action movie, this is a spy movie (albeit with action sequences). (Speaking of spy movies, saw a trailer for this, want to see it). <– that was the link I mentioned above. enjoy it, because that’s all you get …
As I mentioned, Casino Royale wipes the slate of the previous Bond films. There is no debate about how James Bond has remained constant in age for forty-some years, as we were supposed to believe Sean Connery was playing the exact same apparently unageless Bond as Pierce Brosnan was, weren’t we? The “tag” before the musical intro reveals Craig’s Bond mission which leads him to be promoted to double-oh status. From there, we move to Bond tracking down a bombmaker in Madagascar, a mission which results in a crazy white man — that’d be Bond — shooting up the embassy of Nairobi and sticking M in front of a Parlimentary Committee, which certainly doesn’t please her. On his own, Bond sleuths his way to the Bahamas, Florida, Montenegro and Venice, kicking ass and taking names and only once or twice getting to put a silenced slug in the back of someone’s head (although the variety of ways he kills is very “teh exciting”).
The movie drags at points. It’s two hours and twenty-some minutes, and being as I have absolutely no clue how to play poker, the extended time spent in the casino weighed heavily on me. Some character motivations seemed unclear. Bond actually developed, which was a total surprise. There’s a great line you might’ve missed, when Vesper is being held hostage, and the man holding the knife to her throat says to Bond, “I’ll kill the girl.” Right before springing into action, Bond says (to himself), “Allow me.” He wasn’t that cold-blooded at the start of the film, where, interestingly, he works as coordinator of a team of British MI6 agents. I don’t think he’s too happy with the training they’ve recieved (”Put down your hand!”), but he’s solo soon enough. There are some very neat points — I tingled at the very end when Bond finalls says that famous introduction of his (”Bond. James Bond.”) and the classic Bond theme — for the first time in the movie! — comes to life behind him. I’m not quite with him on his martini thing, though.
Also interestingly? If my count is right, he only bags one chick in the film. He makes out with another, but ditches her to fly to Miami (er, at least, that’s how the scene played to me).
Perhaps going to see Casino Royale at the 9:55pm showing in Hunt Valley wasn’t the smartest decision I’ve made, given that I’ve spent most of the day sitting in chairs at school. Suffice to say, my butt is sore and has informed me it does not appreciate the excessive sitting I’m guilty of. Fair enough, in a few moments, I’m going to wrap this excessively long post up and go to bed. Also, my neck has re-developed the same ache I had a couple of weeks ago. Walking out of the theater and getting into my car, I felt like an old man, cringing as I reached over myself with my right hand to pull the seat belt down. In addition to all that, I’ve also developed a cold and a sore throat (two more reasons I should’ve stayed in, but, eh, I say, fuck it: I like to live dangerously). I bought a foam “undermat” for my futon. I’m hoping this will help alleviate the neck pain (I’ve got TheraFlu for the sore-throat and cold). If not, perhaps Eva Green can lick my fingers. Or, at the very least, perhaps I can pretend Eva Green is licking my fingers.
