I saw the flick on Friday and I dug it. My line of criticism was probably similar to most readers’: “It was good, but no Casino Royale.” Two days later, however, I’ve thought about it more and more and I have to say, it was a lot worse than Casino Royale.

Directed by artsy Swede Marc Forster (the guy behind Finding Neverland and Monster’s Ball), the first non-British Commonwealth filmmaker to direct a Bond film and someone who clearly does not know how to direct action sequences.

If you don’t believe it, watch the opening scene. Unfulfilling. And for those who’ve seen it already and disagree with me, stop lying to yourselves. That car chase was NOT good. Sloppy camera angles, nervous editing and an unsure organization of clips made it a jumbled mog-pog of rips and roars that ended with a boring thud. Cue the false-starting theme song by two of the best musicians out there.

Rough start to things. And everytime it got better, it took a turn for the worst. For example, the “Modern Operatic Shootout Scene” about halfway through went somewhere few Bond films ever go intelligently (metaphor) and then failed to follow it up with any kind of conflict or conclusion.

Even the final fight between good (Craig’s Bond) and evil (Mathieu Amalric’s under-used Dominic Greene) had a perfect setting (burning building), perfect weapons (axes and muscles) and ridiculously predictable result. Sure it is obvious Bond will win, but Green never stood a chance. He’s a slimy financial giant who not once, throughout the entire film, shows superior intelligence or physical ability to anyone else. Bambi could probably kick his ass.

And I’m done. There wasn’t a lot of heart in this thing and I hope Forster goes back to trying, and failing, to win Oscars and leaves the Bond movies to the Brits (I’m looking at you Martin Campbell).

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