The Hollywood News has teamed up with th excellent student film website Reelshow International to bring you film reviews written by film students. This week we’re taking a look at the new James Bond movie QUANTUM OF SOLACE. For more reviews, competitions and short films, click on over to Reelshow International.

Quantum of Solace
Directed by Mark Forster
Running time 106 minutes

Growing up, James Bond was always about stories. The gadgets, the gorgeous women, the fast cars, all were threads in the Tapestry of Bond; one could easily miss one or two, as long as the overall picture was exciting enough.

Paul Haggis, Neal Purvis and Robert Wade combine to weave us the new Bond blanket, with Marc Forster (Finding Neverland, Loungers) at the directorial helm. Yes, James Bond is back, and this time it IS personal – but unfortunately, it seems, it’s a little too personal.

There are all the classic symbols of a Bond film; cool guns, expansive luxurious landscapes, fights that (as a warm-blooded male) made me want to run straight to the gym and get pumping – even the opening sequence is an intense car chase involving guns, tunnels, and a body in the trunk. It is such a shame that these threads, instead of weaving something of a Bond Bayeuax, instead spiderweb out of control into something that roughly resembles a Bond-by-numbers painting.

Yes, it’s a different Bond – darker, ruled by emotions and driven by revenge, unflichingly cold – and Craig’s performance is, as per Casino Royale, pouty and wonderful. But Casino Royale taught us that you can have a cold, bare-knuckle Bond, letting the characters go so far that a few gadgets and brief car appearances didn’t make sense, let alone matter in the new Bond universe. But the problem with Quantam of Solace is that it just doesn’t really make sense.

The only Bond out of 22 films to have ever led directly on from a previous excursion leads to a lot of expectation. Questions have to be answered, links made and prophesies fulfilled. Quantam begins shortly after where Royale left off, with Bond in possession of the mysterious Mr White looking for answers. Not that they ever come. It is only far too easy for the audience to forget the reasons Bond is in fact searching for the well-cast Dominic Greene (Mathieu Almaric), and then takes a significant amount of the 106-minute running time attempting to find out his plans – only for them to be very briefly mentioned at the end, with very little consequences. The twist, it seems, is almost portrayed as an inevitability; hardly the crescendo one expects.

An excellent metaphor for the whole film can be seen in Greene’s awkward-looking henchman Elvis (Anatole Taubman), who persistantly glares menacingly at Bond and is presented to the audience so many times you expect a dramatic Jaws-esque showdown – only to be left with a cheap laugh at the toupe-wearing sidekick. Cinematic teasing, in my opinion, is a capital offence, when instead of a goodnight kiss the audience is left with the bill, storyline having snuck out of the bathroom window.

One thing can be said for Marc Forster’s attempt at Bond – the women are something to behold, and make up for each other’s foibles. Olga Kurylen, as the scarred Bolivian Secret Service agent Camille ranks up in the high numbers as one of the sexiest Bond girls ever, but unfortunately her character comes across as frankly getting in the way. Gemma Arterton, however, makes an outstanding and only-too-short appearance as Strawberry Fields, the desk-bound agent with the unfortunate (or fortunate, ladies) job of ‘looking after’ Bond until he is deported home. A rising star, perhaps? One can only hope, and either way a woman to keep both eyes on.

One of the singularly most annoying aspects of modern cinema, and certainly modern action films, is the development of the shakey-cam effect. ‘Perfected’ through Doug Liman’s The Bourne Identity, moving the camera very rapidly with incredibly quick cuts in theory creates a sense of tension for the audience, making them feel involved in the fight. In reality, for me at least, all it causes is a form of land-based seasickness, characterised by slight dizziness and headaches – off to bed with a glass of brandy for me then. It is just a shame that Forster didn’t learn from Liman’s mistakes as his successor to the Bourne throne Paul Greengrass did – audiences like to see action. Unfortunately, the entire opening sequence is a victim of Forster’s harsh cutting and rapid movement, meaning it is only for the briefest of seconds you get a glimpse at the marvellous Aston Martin Bond is driving, before resuming trying to work out who is shooting at who.

Perhaps the harsh criticism is a little unfair. Quantam is watchable, and passable for a Bond – every avid fan knows there have been a lot worse than this. The problem is, a childhood fan of Bond I find myself practically peeing with delight every time a new Bond is announced, and unfortunately, I found myself let down once again, feeling the same disappointment as when I saw The World is Not Enough.

So, finally, to the conclusion. Bond is colder, harder, and much, much poutier than ever before (Craig even out-pouting himself in Casino Royale). But where  there are explosions, rooftop chases and thrilling explosions, there lacks a certain Bond-ness about it. The story seems the middle part of another action trilogy, never finding out the mysterious ‘Quantam’ or even recapturing Mr White at the end, simply Bond performing tasks like a computer game.

I want to be thrilled by Bond. I want to sit there and suddenly realise that 106 minutes have gone by and wish I was still watching. If this is James Bond back, I can only hope that a worthy storyline is running a little later than expected.

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