As recently reported by the
British press, in the next James Bond film to be released in
October, Skyfall, the suave secret agent to be played by
Daniel Craig will not be sipping vodka martinis — he will be
drinking beer, and one may also conclude he will not be all that
suave. We do not yet know how Craig will ask for it, but given the
dumbing down of the James Bond persona, it is not hard to imagine
the words, “ice cold bottle of beer here” spoken at the gaming
tables of Monte Carlo. The admirers of Bond are said to be
outraged.
For decades we have heard the words, “vodka martini, shaken not
stirred,” spoken by the world’s urbane super spy, known almost
everywhere as Bond, James Bond — as he is wont to introduce
himself in a slightly menacing, condescending way.
At home in the paneled offices of London’s intelligence service
or MI6, the dignified casinos of the Riviera, the Space Shuttle,
and on board the Orient Express streaking from Istanbul across
Europe, Bond has been an icon for those with discriminating taste
and for those who would like to have it.
Whether it was Sean Connery, Roger Moore, Timothy Dalton, or
Pierce Brosnan, the character Bond knew his fine wines and foie
gras and how to conduct himself elegantly, whether in a bush suit
or black tie. He could lecture the Bank of England on the
deficiencies of their brandy, and advise M, the chief of MI6 on
obscure flora found in the Amazon — in a patronizing manner. In
the early Bond movies with Connery and Moore in particular, there
was focus on the spy’s character and wry sense of humor, before the
onslaught and distraction of high speed cameras and gadgetry. Later
actors, especially Dalton, projected a more sensitive Bond — a
Bond with listening skills — and Brosnan continued to enhance the
image of all things dapper, the stiff upper lip, and good
taste.
But no more. Craig is a different kind of Bond — however still
with much public appeal. His surliness and sometimes glowering
manner speak to those in need of anger management. His musculature
is suggestive of many hours spent in the gym, bench pressing
several multiples of his body weight. His slightly spiked hair is
suggestive of the coolness of a new generation, a new order of
things. The grime and dried blood on his face convey a hands-on
007, a hard-charging executive of espionage — one who prefers
substance over form and just wants to get the job done.
The new Bond now played by Craig does not mind looking grungy
and casual, and in this respect he is a certainly a man of the
times. And while the earlier Bonds seemed to do their work for King
and country, with pluck that was decidedly British, it is not yet
clear exactly what motivates Craig in his role, other than the
desire for a good dustup and a cold beer.
It is possible that the commercial sponsors of Bond are shrewdly
cognizant of globalization and its potential for profit. Imagine
the rising demand for beer in Brazil, Russia, India and China, the
so-called BRIC countries, as hundreds of millions of young men and
women aspire to become secret agents, swigging down a well-chilled
beer after completing a clandestine operation.
Not surprisingly Heineken, the Dutch brewing company in
collaboration with film sponsors, has
weighed in, reportedly stating, “Bond is a perfect fit for us.
He is the epitome of the man of the world.”
Bond traditionalists may not be happy about the dilution of
their brand, perhaps conceding that Daniel Craig still epitomizes
something — but it is not worldliness. After all, a super sleuth
with dirt and his own dried blood on his face cannot be doing
everything right.
But drinking beer need not be inconsistent with savoir-faire, as
Jonathan Goldsmith, the Dos Equis man, shows us. Were Goldsmith
cast as the next James Bond, we might hear him say, “Stay covert,
my friends.”
