Robert Bidinotto is editor-in-chief of The New Individualist, a monthly magazine of culture and politics (www.newindividualist.com). This review appears on his blog: http://bidinotto.journalspace.com.
Let me officially and publicly swallow words of worry that I wrote based on what turns out to be highly inaccurate advance news reports about the “feminization” of James Bond in the new Casino Royale.
I saw it last night, on opening day, and I’m thrilled to report that there’s nothing feminine about the new Bond, Daniel Craig.
Moreover — mercifully — there are no over-the-top Dr. Evil characters trying to take over the Known Universe; no over-the-top gadgets from Q; no over-the-top nuclear time bombs that Bond disarms just as they tick down to 007 seconds left till explosion. There are no lame, witless puns; no lame, time-wasting flirtations with Miss Moneypenny at MI6; no lame, vapid, “Bond girl” mannequins with IQs smaller than their breast measurements.
No, this is a total reinvention — and total revival — of the James Bond franchise, doing for 007 what “Batman Begins” recently did so brilliantly for that superhero. It’s a hugely entertaining yet serious thriller that combines a tightly-written, suspenseful plot, fine acting from an excellent cast, credibly bloody-and-brutal fight sequences, jaw-dropping stunt work, breathtaking locations and sets…and, most importantly, the best James Bond since Sean Connery.
Okay. Yes. I know, I know. And I love what Sean Connery did for the character. Since the 1960s, his suave-yet-manly turn as Bond has been the gold standard against which all his successors in the role have been measured, and always fallen short.
Until now. Daniel Craig is simply the most physical, masculine, and credible Bond ever. He has dared to remake the character completely. No foppish Roger Moore, he: this is an intense, icy-cold, commando-tough, ruthlessly relentless agent and assassin. 
Craig’s lean, wolfish face and chiseled body make him seem like a dangerous predator even in black tie, playing poker and sipping port. In fact, he looks like the valedictorian of a Navy SEAL class. And he acts the part: his fight scenes are more athletic and brutally realistic than anything ever seen in a Bond film, leaving him battered, bruised, and bleeding…but his adversaries dead. You find yourself thinking: Boy, I sure as hell wouldn’t want to mess with this dude.
The plot starts at the beginning of James Bond’s career, and centers around international terrorism, with 007 aiming to bankrupt its major financier at a high-stakes card table in a posh casino. 
The tale is loaded with surprises and suspense; but, for once, the romantic subplot is just as good. It’s no longer only an excuse for Bond to have another meaningless fling with some forgettable piece of eye candy. In a series of quiet, erotically charged scenes that allow time for excellent acting and real character development, ice man thaws completely, falling in love with the lovely, brainy, complex Vesper Lynd (mesmerizing French actress Eva Green). Her Majesty’s most lethal and cold-blooded secret agent is forced to confront his gradual loss of soul and feeling — and to make value choices that will shape his character, and his future.
This is a serious action film — intelligent and intense, while extravagantly entertaining. Even though it runs long (two hours, twenty-four minutes), it rivets you to your theater seat. And afterwards, shaken and stirred, you’ll want to raise a dry martini to the new James Bond.
