Watched Casino Royale yesterday. Daniel Craig is an awesome Bond. There’s a certain unease in his smile that seems right for the part of the proto-Bond, a not-quite-all-there double-0 in the making. And I liked the simultaneous nods to tradition - the 1964 Aston Martin, Bond making up the ridiculous “Stephanie Broadchester” name - with the debunking of it (Bartender: “Shaken or stirred?” Bond: “Do I look like I give a damn?”).

Paul Haggis wrote the dialogue between Bond and Vesper Lynd (Eva Green), and their scene on a train, each one second-guessing the other’s background, was a great sign that this Bond has moved beyond just wink-wink silly innuendo. And Bond does seem really more passionate in this film: whereas Brosnan was shiny and slick, Craig brings out the rougher, animal side - the film imbues him with a sexual charge, a tender side (there’s a shower scene that strips Bond of his traditional detachment, and it’s a powerful one), and even homoerotic overtones, as a dark torture scene shows.

And mad, mad props for the chase scene with Sebastien Foucan - I totally had not realised it was Foucan (hey, who expects a traceur to show up in a Bond film?), but employing that beautiful fluid free-running style on the construction site made for a great chase scene. Which contrasts nicely with the slick Texas hold’em game that shows off Bond’s debonair, intellectual side. Parlour games and parkour games - this installment of the Bond franchise is both cerebral and physical, and earns its (renewed) licence.