Film: Quantum of Solace (2008)

The Importance of the Screenwriter


Quantum of Solace | France téléspectateurs, tout savoir ...

Quantum of Solace (2008, dir. Mark Forster), the second instalment in the Daniel Craig era of the James Bond series, is quite easily the worst film I have sat through recently, I remembered it being ok, I couldn’t have been more wrong. The thing is though, it really didn’t have to be so awful. But contracts have to be honoured; the latest shit-smelling 007 aftershaves and Omega watches insufferable marketing campaigns can’t be delayed, and so Mark Forster began shooting… without a script!
This was of course due to the 2007-08 writer’s guild of America strike, in which screenwriters rightfully made a stand against the severe pay constraints in their job contracts, which had them redrafting for nothing amongst other blatant exploitation by Hollywood. 
Whilst the director will always receive due praise, the screenwriter remains elusive in praise or recognition, but this film serves as a great example as to just how important they are to the production and development process. For, whilst the disorientating editing and needless action are almost unwatchable, it is truly the script that leaves the sour taste in your mouth, as well as the infuriation of wasting 1 hour and 46 minutes of your life.
Looking for a good pun? Of course you are, it’s James Bond for Christ sake. But the best thing these writers can come up with is quite simply “You were supposed to shoot her” to which James replies, “Well I missed”. This is after, as you might have predicted, Camille (Bond girl) attempts to shoot Bond and misses. Add in a vague plot of a tyrant exploiting a natural resource and some blatant racism towards South Americans (“I didn’t know you’d gone native James”) and you’ll be begging for earplugs, just so you can watch the incoherent action that occurs every 15 minutes, obviously to keep hidden its lack of one decent line of dialogue.
Now don’t get me wrong, even with screenwriters James Bond will always be quite misogynistic and racist, but at least they would attempt to be covert, as well as not throwing in the most ridiculous scenes. And I mean ridiculous in comparison to Bond itself by the way. Such as the meeting of all the world’s most dangerous criminals in an opera speaking on a public frequency, or the scene preceding where Bond knocks out a guard and obtains an unexplained tuxedo, as well as ripping off the opera’s toilet handle. Or the scene where Bond and Camille’s plane is shot down, and they quite literally skydive into Dominic Greene’s (villain) dam where he is creating a monopoly on Bolivia’s fresh water supply. Skydiving into a climax? Really?
All in all, this film should should be swiftly forgotten. Whether you’re a fan of Craig as 007 or not, the other films where he bears the license to kill are at least coherent and don’t leave you dazed, confused and infuriated.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poem: Break in the Clouds

Break in the Clouds The stones upon dead beaches  lie with oil that’s dripping. And the cry of all the wildlife echoes in the distance. Along with all the voices of the ones that weren’t “God’s children”. So you walk with eyes shut tight for how else can you glimpse a future? And try to keep your mind straight,  your body calm and sober. For within the darkness you search for the silhouette of justice, which has, long been smothered by the prime minister of hatred who speaks with a slippery tongue and is a master of phatic language. Seek from him only lies for he’s not known for honest answers. And then plead for the rain to stop. So tired, tired of waiting, waiting for a break in the clouds. The road like a line drawn by a fat magic marker. The engine like a static on a once harmonious frequency. The ale that kept you warm has since left you cold and empty.  Close these beaten eyes momentarily to perceive, the nigh...
Read more

Part Nine: The Travel Diary of South-east Asia

  The Travel Diary of South-east Asia Here continues the series for anyone who is interested about my travels two years ago. I spent three months in South-east Asia. Though true to the actual handwritten diary in terms of events which I recorded on my trip day-to-day, I have changed the names and where possible gone into more detail for each day with the luxury of having a laptop this time around! For part eight click  here . Part nine concerns Siem Reap in Cambodia. 6th of February 2019 - Bangkok, Thailand > Siem Reap, Cambodia After a modest breakfast and lunch alongside the last 50 pages of my book, I was actually picked up personally by the coach at the door of my hostel. The proprietor must have something to do with the coach company. It was another long journey, but I’d learnt to grin and bear it all by now, and so I watched inconsequential things on my phone and listened to my downloaded playlist, soft folk pickings of John Martyn and Laura Marling as we rode from th...
Read more

Poem: Mars

Mars Welcome to Mars, we've got all-American bars, And Cadillac, dust-fuelled, decadent cars. Beer made from barley grown in the light of the moon; A mega-Martian hotel with an earth-side view; A Musk-mounted telescope to look back at the ruins; A virtual ocean to dip your toes in - and a chemical balancer to help you keep going. Algorithmic auto-immune fixers;  homo-deus with a neon-based mixers,  drinking til' blue dusk as last light on earth flickers. The deep sea takes its last breath, the fish cry out in the tide of death. Penguins waddle on the last bit of ice, bodies burnt black until there's no shade of white, Nowhere in sight. Only the unrelenting fist of the sun,  Punching down at the carcass of civilisation undone. Television fried, underground bunkers un-survived, here in the desert Ozymandias lies; 'Look all on my works and despair!' The nano AI looks on with faux care, makes a Microsoft Mars © note to share, Then sends to trash - 'Too much of a dep...
Read more