As a lifelong Bond fan, I wish I could be excited by this, but after Skyfall
I've been forced to admit that Daniel Craig is never going to be my James Bond. Why the ultimate male wish-fulfillment character has been turned into this sullen, joyless, eternally-burdened fellow, who seems always
to be having a miserable time of it, is a mystery to me. Even the sex scenes have become grudging and perfunctory, as if showing Bond taking any pleasure in life at all is now verboten.
Mind you, I'm not advocating Roger Mooresque campfests, but rather the tone that the likes of Connery and Dalton struck: a man of violence and ruthless skill, yes, but also a man whose enjoyment of the world and its finer things was palpable. Dalton, in particular, showed it's possible to play Bond with an actorly seriousness without turning him into Craig's stone-faced latter-day Job. A certain undercurrent of angst is welcome ("If [M] fires me I'll thank him for it"), but shouldn't overwhelm the character in pursuit of the tiresome "dark and gritty" pretensions so beloved of current franchise movies (and which the splendid Star Trek into Darkness