So, my friend Brad (one of only 8 people I know who unabashedly likes the film) poses the question to me, "So is your Quantum of Solace review going to end up as the great unfinished magnum opus of your career?"
Damn near, kids. Damn near.
The reason? Appropriating a line from the short story of the same name, allow me to let Ian Fleming explain:
"The prospect, which had previously interested, even excited him, was now edged with boredom and futility."
In earnest do I attempt to retrieve my interest, my excitement, for the few of you who, you know, give a damn.
Part 2 to follow at an indeterminate date (i.e. after you've all forgotten the film), in which I vehemently instruct the nay-saying sections of Bond fandom to listen to reason (i.e. my opinion) and, ultimately, to chill the fuck out.
And much as I loathe ending sentences with prepositions, I'm pretty sure I can let that one go.
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I had lunch at this ritzy country club today with a bunch of my middle aged female co-workers and superiors and Quantum of Solace came up amongst conversations about Christmas to-dos, winter weather, and lazy retired husbands who won't cook dinner. Needless to say, it was surprising- not in depth of course, but a refreshing change of topic.
And, what, you may ask, is the opinion of bond-ignorant middle-aged women? Though they did not have a great deal to say specifically about the movie, they all agreed that Craigy-Pooh makes an excellent Bond.
It's a known fact that many Bond fanatics lay awake thinking about such things, so there you have it! May your mind be at rest! :)
Good luck retrieving your excitement about "Part 2"!
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