"Quantum of Solace"

“There is something horribly efficient about you,” Camille (Olga Kurylenko) says to a certain British spy halfway through “Quantum of Solace,” the lean new action flick masquerading as a James Bond movie. Lead writer Paul Haggis has continued to take a chainsaw to the 007 formula, and here, as in “Casino Royale,” paring away the franchise’s unnecessary affectations—cars with rocket launchers, Moneypenny, martinis done a very certain way—has paid off.

Screaming through its 106-minute runtime (the shortest ever for a Bond film), “Quantum of Solace” isn’t weighed down by politics or melodrama. Director Marc Forster (“Monster’s Ball,” “Finding Neverland”) tears through a refreshingly uncomplicated plot that has something to do with water shortages in exotic places—an excuse for Bond to blow things up on three different continents—and swaps out melodrama for the real thing. Bond is still haunted by the betrayal and death of Vesper, his lover from “Casino Royale,” as he tries to hunt down an international cabal called Quantum that may be responsible for blackmailing her. He’s still damaged goods, as much as he pretends not to be, which makes his vengeance all the more furious and fun to watch.

Shrugging across the screen with a chip on his shoulder, Daniel Craig plays Bond with the right amount of reserve and just enough pathos to make him seem human. He must be part machine, though, considering the ease with which he waltzes through the film’s relentless action sequences. (There’s nothing as cool as the parkour chase from “Casino Royale,” but the pacing and variety have never been better.) Still, he pauses now and then for admonishment from M (Judi Dench) and to commiserate with Camille—his partner in espionage but never in bed. She and M ask Bond what Vesper would think about his vendetta. “I don’t think the dead care about vengeance,” he says with false detachment.

Vesper, though, would be jealous of Camille, a woman of unassuming complexity—one whose flaws and idiosyncrasies are taken for granted, not announced in a flashy Freudian face-off like the one that introduces Vesper. Camille too seeks revenge, and admits to Bond with wry satisfaction that she slept with the film’s villain, Dominic Greene (a wonderful Mathieu Amalric), to get closer to the Bolivian general who killed her family.

Lest the two spies seem like a dour pair, Haggis and Forster let them off the leash every now and then. Despite Vesper’s painfully felt absence, Bond still lets himself seduce fellow agent Strawberry Fields (no joke), while a tipsy Camille takes pleasure in haranguing Greene in front of several wealthy donors at a party. You could almost imagine the two dating.

Forster’s trigger finger itches through the whole movie (I don’t think there are more than three conversations in “Quantum of Solace” that last longer than 45 seconds). He choreographs the action scenes with fluid deftness—cinematographer Roberto Schaefer racks up an impressive number of how-did-they-do-that moments—yet easily pulls off subtler tricks like Bond photographing Quantum members communicating through earpieces during a performance of “Tosca.” The supporting cast also turns out excellent performances: especially noteworthy are Jeffrey Wright as an embittered Felix Leiter and Giancarlo Giannini as the disgraced Mathis.

Although the story begins where “Casino Royale” left off—a welcome first for a Bond movie—Forster washes his film of that movie’s operatic pretensions, and consequently “Quantum of Solace” feels less satisfyingly rich, less deeply felt. But gone forever is the Bond who orders beluga caviar and Dom Perignon on MI6’s dime only to wrap his legs around unsuspecting damsels. He isn’t quite the killer he wants to be, nor is he the saintly avenger we expect him to become. Political espionage isn’t sexy anymore, he seems to say resignedly. It’s dirty, bloody work.

—Staff writer Kyle L. K. McAuley can be reached at kmcauley@fas.harvard.edu.