I remain sold on the concept. The idea of a phone case with a wallet is a smart one, and Twelve South has executed theirs the best out of the ones I’ve tried or seen. However, I can’t use the BookBook every day. It’s not a finished product yet.

Thursday of last week, I received an email from the very nice marketing and P.R. people at Twelve South, creators of the BookBook:

Read your blog post about your experience with BookBook for iPhone. We’re really sorry to hear about the issues you’ve had, and would love to make it right — our BookBooks are designed to last, and for a lot longer than your 197 days! […]

When you have a moment, shoot me your current mailing address and phone number. We’d like to send over another BookBook for iPhone to replace the one that underperformed. Would that be OK?

My replacement arrived today, and it seems much more substantial than the first one I purchased. It still needs to be broken in, as all leather products require, but I’ll follow up again in another 197 days.

While I was disappointed with the quality of my original BookBook, I’m the proud owner of other Twelve South products. I knew they were purveyors of generally high-quality products. Now I know they take customer experience seriously as well. I noted on Twitter:

Twelve South is an Apple-influenced company right down to their customer service.

I stand by what I said. Great company.

A short time after writing my review, the first problems started to occur. Its tech specs suggest a 3-4 card capacity, plus a small stack of paper-based products in the inner pocket. Even though I remained comfortably within those specs, the seam between the card sleeves and the inner pocket tore wide open. This did not cause the cards to fall out, but it did impair usability. Pinching into the inner pocket for a bill would often require nimble finger work to avoid grabbing my bank card instead.

In addition, the stitching above the clear identification card pocket left a strange, gooey residue on my iPhone’s screen when the case was closed. It could be removed with a quick wipe, but it required removal every time the case was opened.

Finally, the plastic used for the ID card window remained wrinkled, and the case itself was too large to comfortably carry at all times. It fit in a skinnier pair of jeans, but it wasn’t the most comfortable feeling when seated.

I remain sold on the concept. The idea of a phone case with a wallet is a smart one, and Twelve South has executed theirs the best out of the ones I’ve tried or seen. However, I can’t use the BookBook every day. It’s not a finished product yet.

Update

This seems to be an never-ending saga:

We’d like to send over another BookBook for iPhone to replace the one that underperformed. Would that be OK?

My replacement arrived today, and it seems much more substantial than the first one I purchased.

House of Balloons

Answer: Stagnation.

Question: What has R&B brought to the world in the past ten years?

The contemporary world of rhythm and blues is cryogenic. The related charts of the years 2000 to 2010 are dominated by the same names — Rihanna, Usher, Mariah Carey — producing broadly similar music year after year. The same genre in which one can classify innovators like Michael Jackson and Stevie Wonder became mundane.

Then 2010 arrived and, despite the usual chart-toppers, a crack appeared. Demo tracks by an unheard-of began making the rounds on blogs, with the artist field displaying “The Weeknd”. The early-listeners were impressed with what they heard, noting threads of electronica and contemporary bass-heavy beats, and emphasising Drake’s involvement.

On March 21, the first nine-track mixtape by The Weeknd was released to universal acclaim. Hipster Mecca-blog Pitchfork picked it as the best new music:

There was the Drake cosign, the album art that looked like Spiritualized crossed with Tumblr art-porn, the missing vowel, the stylish samples, and the project’s creators hiding in the shadows.

Rolling Stone was even more effusive, and managed to out Abel Tesfaye as the man behind the music:

It traces a woozy, debauched journey over nine slow jams that join the current conversation in hallucinatory r&b and indie rock: James Blake, Frank Ocean, jj, Salem, and Beach House.

I, too, drew some of these parallels. But what I was interested in most were not the melodies, but rather Tesfaye’s vocals. He opens the record subtly, “you don’t know what’s in store, but you know what you’re here for.” Yes, indeed. The vocals on High for This are Sade-esque in their intonation, with a somewhat longing character.

The record continues with some decidedly downtempo jams (What You Need, Coming Down) paired neatly with songs that are more danceable, though not much quicker (Glass Table Girls, Loft Music). Significantly, the songs display an impressive vocal control paired with music that’s much better suited to 2011 than the otherwise-mundane contemporary R&B offerings. In his review, Daniel Koren sums up the mood of the record:

[W]ith the Weeknd’s debut mixtape, House of Balloons, they bring to the table the most interesting, depressing, and drug-infested R&B record in years.

It’s a party for one and sobering for many. In a nod to its excellence, House of Balloons was nominated for the 2011 Polaris Prize, but lost to Suburbs.

Thursday

How does one follow such an acclaimed record? As best you can, I suppose, and quickly. Released just a few months later in mid-August, Thursday opens with a more melancholic hook than its predecessor. Enter quiet, warped speech, as if spoken by a child through a spinning fan, then the infectious falsetto reminiscent of, dare I say it, Michael Jackson’s finest.

The record continues with the almost scathing Life of the Party, a stab at an ex-girlfriend, perhaps? There’s an element of jealousy, but it’s eclipsed by how biting it is, especially when paired with the serpentine electric guitar riff. Later in the nine-song album, The Zone connotes influences as disparate as Moby (with its vintage drum machine beat), Portishead and Django Reinhardt’s glassy guitar work. Drake contributes a restrained rap verse overtop the concluding decaying piano riff.

Track eight, Gone, effectively fuses the worlds of minimal electronica with R&B. Tesfaye’s vocals are layered in harmony in a sound Imogen Heap made famous, but which is executed here with ever-increasing soul. At eight minutes, it’s the longest song on the album and exists in two movements. The first half is backed by a simple, tinkling synth riff and finger snaps, while the second half is accompanied by a hard-hitting, sparse beat.

Thursday closes on a decidedly more upbeat note, with a track appropriately entitled Heaven Or Las Vegas. Over a palette of squealing guitars, sawtooth synth, choir, piano, and sprinklings of Dntel-esque noises, Tesfaye delivers his most explorative R&B entry yet. He’s found what he desired:

I never prayed a moment in my life / Girl, I’m rewarded with you

I found Thursday to be weaker than House of Balloons, but only by a hair. It lacks the cohesion of its predecessor in a way that hurts its flow. That’s not to say that it’s a poor effort at all; if anything, Thursday is even more innovative than Balloons.

Echoes of Silence

i hope they don’t hang me for my decisions on #echoesofsilence — The Weeknd

Last night, the trilogy was completed with the much-anticipated release of Echoes of Silence. Quoted above, Tesfaye alludes to some of the more controversial choices on the record, chief of which is the opening track D.D. Some artists’ songs are acceptable to cover, but that’s almost never the case with Michael Jackson. Tesfaye’s decision to cover Dirty Diana is bold, but executed oh so perfectly. While a fairly straightforward cover, it’s more sensitive than Jackson’s original. The vocals are exquisite.

The rest of the record is spacier than the preceding Thursday, or even House of Balloons. It’s not empty, but there’s reverb and echo dripping from every instrument. For all I know, it may have been recorded in a long-vacant church or concert hall. The fifth track, Initiation, is the biggest exception, which infuses elements of IDM and a flavour of the night. Acoustically, it’s the driest track on the record, but it certainly isn’t boring. The vocals are warped and morphed into a gelatinous, ever-evolving sound, as if played from a record overtop a blast furnace.

The trilogy concludes on the title track, a sensitive, melancholic tribute to loves that are, were, and could be. The piano is treated delicately and is muted to pair with the warmth of Tesfaye’s vocals. It’s a phenomenal closing song, worthy of the records that launched The Weeknd from unheard to indie superstar.

To think that these records were released for free with no way to pay for them leaves me cold. I desperately want to give him my money. I hope I can, soon. The Weeknd deserves it.

I am, of course, a massive fan of Twelve South (12S). The small company is responsible for several of the most innovative, most well-designed and best-fitting accessories for the Mac, iPad and (now) iPhone. As a diehard, I own a Compass and a BookArc, both of which keep my desk clean and amp up its style. And so Andrew Green — founder of 12S — announced the BookBook for iPhone last month on Twitter and I fell in love.

It’s odd, though, that I was considering purchasing one. This is the third variation of 12S’ BookBook line of cases, of which the previous two I did not enjoy. The BookBook for the MacBook (Pro) was the first to launch, and it’s a rather bulky product. It’s stylish, sure, and clever, but it lacks a certain amount of elegance. It’s overdone. It’s a similar story for the iPad version. There are several book-style cases for the iPad on the market, and Twelve South’s isn’t as well executed as Nedrelow’s or the rightly eminent DODOCase.

The iPhone version is a different story. Unlike the MacBook and iPad versions, it isn’t bulky for style concessions, but because it adds functionality. The inside flap hides slots for cards, a clear pocket for identification, and a pocket for cash. As the promo video demonstrates, one simply grabs their keys and their BookBook, and is set for the day. It’s simply marvellous.

The iPhone is held on the right-hand side of the case, with cutouts for the earpiece, ring/silent switch and home button. Notably absent is a cutout for the camera and flash. This is by design. To compensate, Twelve South has added a small red pull-tab to allow the phone to be slid up with your thumb. It’s a smart way to overcome a design obstacle. The alternative would be to have a cutout in the rear and, while more convenient, would destroy the suspension of disbelief. The illusion of it being a book is more powerful without the hole.

By now, a typical review would descend into complaints, and I’m afraid there’s no exception this time (though my complaints are minor). With three cards in the wallet portion, with another card and a folded up bill in the pocket, the case does bulge quite noticeably. I suspect this is partially due to the leather not being “worn in”, but it’s slightly disconcerting. When folded shut, the leather tends to leave a significant smudge across the left-hand side of the screen. Again, this is probably due to it being new, but as someone who attempts to keep their screen polished, this is unwelcome.

The big worry, though, is the idea of keeping your credit card(s), identification and expensive smartphone in the same place. It certainly makes it easier for a thief to procure your valuables (and identity, potentially). If you don’t feel comfortable taking that risk, the BookBook is definitively not for you.

An aside: I purchased my BookBook at Toronto’s Eaton Centre, while on vacation. It was while waiting for my delayed flight that I realised Twelve South created the perfect product for the domestic traveller. One can display their boarding pass on the iPhone while presenting their ID. It’s a genius product.

To sum up, the BookBook for iPhone is a magnificent achievement. The concept of combining a wallet and phone case isn’t a new one, but Twelve South’s execution of that idea is nearly perfect.

Update

Before rushing out to buy one of these, please see my followup review:

I remain sold on the concept. The idea of a phone case with a wallet is a smart one, and Twelve South has executed theirs the best out of the ones I’ve tried or seen. However, I can’t use the BookBook every day. It’s not a finished product yet.

The album begins with arguably the most difficult track of the eight (yes, only eight songs on this release, totalling 37 minutes), entitled “Bloom”. It’s a dizzying chaos of drums, strained vocals and textures, with no discernible time signature. I would argue this is a weak start. It’s dissimilar to the rest of the album, and isn’t particularly inviting. That said, it will appease those who wish to feel they conquered it.

“Morning Mr. Magpie” and “Little By Little” are both considerably more listenable. The former has a noticeable trace of funk to the guitar work, and electronic beats that echo Thom Yorke’s “The Eraser” and prior Radiohead releases. The latter echos Pink Floyd’s “San Tropez”, combined with Radiohead’s more mellow work. Think “Nude”, but faster and with percussion galore.

As one of the three or four people on the planet that despises drum-and-bass, “Feral” falls on unwanting ears. Luckily it’s only three-and-a-quarter minutes long. Next.

The track that follows “Feral” is “Lotus Flower”, and is one of the highlights of the entire album. It’s decidedly more subtle, with exotic undertones (noticing a trend?) and really intriguing textures. Yorke’s trademark falsetto vocals are at their prime, brought to the forefront of the mix, leaving melodic “vapour trails” (echos, yes, but abstracted).

Piano? In my Radiohead? It’s more likely than you think, on “Codex”, with what sounds like a zither in the background (it’s probably just a guitar on the upstroke). If you thought the album was gloomy before this track, you’re in for a real shock. Miserable, drab, depressing, rainy, overcast: these are just a few terms that could be applied to this song. However, that doesn’t make it beige celery covered in mild cheddar: it’s fantastic. The horns are a nice touch, emphasizing the jazzy undertones. Insert a requisite 20 seconds of mostly dead air before…

…”Give Up the Ghost”. Twittering birds, acoustic guitar and golpes^[2] frame more beautiful vocal textures. Drones in the background help ground it as a Radiohead song, as do the myriad of layers.

The last track of the short album is “Separator”, and it brings back some of the percussion from the first half, melds it with the more lucid textures of the second half and blends it all together into a pleasant, if unsurprising amalgamation. Not that it’s disappointing to have the final song on any album be unsurprising: it’s the conclusion that helps tie everything together. “Separator” is fantastically downtempo, and brilliantly jazzy.

The album, then, is good. Not great, and not revolutionary, but good. It’s going to get multiple listens, even if I’ll be skipping “Bloom” and “Feral”.

Picks: “Lotus Flower”, “Codex”, “Separator”

1. Never mind that they aren’t the first to do so: Nine Inch Nails released both “Ghosts I-IV” and “The Slip” with no prior announcement – the former sold out all 2,500 $300 limited edition packages within 48 hours.
2. Golpe: tapping on the guitar for percussion. Usually used in flamenco playing.

As you can see in the photo above, I’ve gone through three mice in about two years. They haven’t broken, but trying to find one that matches what I’m looking for is a challenge, to say the least. The first was the black Logitech. It isn’t anything special, but when I bought it — no, it wasn’t interesting then either. It’s as featureless as the Photoshopped faces in Flair, though it does have side-scrolling. I abandoned Logitech when we got our iMac – the bundled mouse was the worst I have ever used. Mighty? Hardly. The ergonomics were nice and the lack of visible buttons was clever, but there were two things that just about any Mighty Mouse owner can attest to. Firstly, the buttonless design meant that you had to release all fingers from the surface before attempting a secondary click — if you left your index finger touching, it would register as the primary button. This was quite irritating, but not nearly as annoying as the scroll ball. Apple chose to make this (quite ingenious) feature out of a soft-touch plastic. This felt nice to the finger, but attracted dirt, dust, lint, hair, bugs and other little things, causing the scroll ball to jam, preventing scrolling in one or more directions and generally causing a nuisance. Apple’s solution? Rather than switching to a harder surface for future models, they suggested that users flip the mouse over and rub the ball vigorously on a clean, hard surface. If that isn’t an afterthought, I’m not sure what is. As I said, abysmal.

After getting irritated at the rats’-nest of wires around my desk, I concluded that my next mouse must be wireless. Owing to only having two USB ports, it would also have to be a Bluetooth wireless mouse, not just an infra-red one. And it’s almost as if nobody makes them. Apple made a wireless version of the Mighty Mouse, but I’d rather repeatedly punch myself in the testicles than own one of those. In the end, I settled back on a Logitech, because I don’t learn lessons when things are horrid the first time around. This mouse simply will not stay connected for any considerable length of time. It has a tendency to disconnect in the middle of moving it, and doesn’t stay paired. In addition, the battery life on it was dismal, at best. So you can imagine my relief when, in mid-October, Apple added a few new products to the store.

I was lucky enough to pick up my Magic Mouse on release day. I tinkered with one of the store models for a few minutes and was sold. The design of the mouse perfectly blends older styling (the glossy white top) with the newer Apple aesthetic (aluminum lower with black rails on the bottom). It looks new and innovative, without being vulgar. My only complaint, design-wise, is that Apple chose to use plastic instead of glass for the top surface, making it susceptible to scratching. It’s better than the original iPod nano was, but I’ve only used mine for a little over six months and it has plenty of battle scarring already.

The ergonomics of the Magic Mouse are a different story, in that they polarize people. Depending on the size of your hand, the mouse might be either perfect or uncomfortable. It happens to fit in my hand quite nicely, but your mileage may vary. After using it for six months, it doesn’t feel any less comfortable than any of my previous mice. That said, if you’re interested in the mouse but aren’t sold on the ergonomics, you can stick a ten dollar breast implant lump of silicone on the surface.

Never mind the aesthetics or the ergonomics — what you really want to hear about are the multi-touch features. If you’re used to an iPhone, you’ll be instantly familiar with the feel of it. The use of multi-touch in the Magic Mouse is exclusively limited to momentum scrolling. With one flick, you can travel about a third of the way down chocklock.com, which is great for any long news article, your iTunes or iPhoto libraries, or the evolutionary timeline. That said, having the entire top surface as a scrollable area can be frustrating when working quickly in Adobe’s Creative Suite – it’s easy to accidentally zoom into the document.

However, if you’re used to one of Apple’s multi-touch notebook trackpads, you’ll be disappointed. Only a single multi-touch gesture is available (using two fingers to go back and forward). There is no way to activate pinch-to-zoom, three and four finger swipes, middle click or anything else you might be used to. Happily, there are a variety of third-party software solutions available, including Mouse Wizard ($5). But, and I must emphasize this, these solutions reveal why Apple chose not to add those gestures, for two reasons. The first is that they activate sporadically and unintentionally. It’s very, very easy to rest your hand exactly where the middle click gesture is located, perhaps activating Exposé when you least expect. The other reason, oddly enough, is that the gestures don’t always activate when it is your intent. Pinch to zoom, for instance, requires your fingers to be each within an approximately half-inch-square area, which means that if you miss it, you’ll scroll through the photo instead of zooming. Truth be told, I’m not thoroughly disappointed that these gestures are missing.

There are two other issues I should cover. Firstly, the Bluetooth connection is fab. It has never, ever dropped its connection or pairing (I did post a tweet where I whined that the mouse wasn’t pairing, but it was because my batteries were dead. I’d link that tweet, but Twitter’s search-by-date-range is broken). Battery life is decent, however I’d highly recommend purchasing a pair of rechargeable AA batteries. I’ve found Duracell’s pre-charged NiMH batteries to work well in the mouse, and they’re inexpensive.

Overall, then, the Magic Mouse is a truly fantastic product. There are some flaws, but for me, in my hands with my expectations, it ticks all the right boxes.

NB: The vast majority of this was drafted in December, however I thought it best to review the mouse six months after owning it, for a more balanced view.

A Mino in Canada

Getting the Flip into Canada was an adventure in its own right. Since it isn’t actually available here, I posted a note on Facebook asking any American friends if they could forward a package for me. Luckily, one responded. It took a good while to get here, but it was definitely worth the wait.

I have held to a firm belief for a long time: if you’re taking candid photos, it’s about 25% more work to take a candid video, but you’ll reap 100% more rewards. Photos are fantastic little things, but it’s simply more interesting to watch a video than flick through a photo album, especially on the internet. It is with this belief that I purchased a Flip Mino HD, which isn’t actually available in Canada (see sidebar for more info). The camera arrived Monday, January 4th and I started playing with it immediately. Read on for a more in-depth review of this amazingly small camcorder.

I ripped open the package rather eagerly upon arrival. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the unboxing of it on video (or in photos), but this guy did, so if you want to watch a guy unwrapping a product on video, that link is for you. For those who want to read my blog instead, here’s a quick run-down. The packaging is very Apple-esque, with lots of detail on the opening of the product. It’s almost like opening a gift. The camera sits in a little tray, almost like that of the iPhone package. It’s odd – no amount of comparison photos or YouTube videos give you a sense of the size of this camera: it’s tiny! It’s about the same height as my iPod touch, about 70% of the width and a little bit thicker, and it records 720p video. Annoyingly, the camcorder either discharged during shipment or is shipped almost completely uncharged, so I had to charge it before I could test the image quality.

<

p>The video quality on this camera is, in a word, mindblowing (that’s probably two words, actually). For something this small, I was impressed at the sharpness and detail in the resulting test videos. I edited together a (cheesy) test video to show it off:

Unsurprisingly, the Flip video lineup has been successful. At the time of writing, the Flip occupies the top three spots for all camcorders sold on Amazon. At first glance, this is odd to any of you who have read the specs for the Mino. The zoom is only a 2x digital zoom (which just stretches the image instead of changing the actual lens zoom), there’s no still image support (not until the editing phase, anyway) and you can only store an hour of footage with the non-expandable memory. It also doesn’t have anything approaching advanced features. You can’t set the white balance or focus and there’s no way to switch between SD and HD recording. However, and this is the key to its success, there’s no pretentiousness associated with this camera. It’s like an old Mini. There’s no air conditioning, no luxuries, the engine is about as powerful as a mouse on a wheel and it’s too small. But it has personality and is admired for being simple transport for (usually) simple people. The Mino has drawbacks aplenty, but it’s ridiculously simple. You push the power button on the side and, before you can say “Flip Mino HD”, it’s ready for you to push the big red button on the back and start recording. It’s the best camera for social gatherings. No need to lug around the Handycam with tapes and a flip-out screen. The Flip fits in your pocket next to your cell phone and headphones and is ready to record at a moment’s notice, for those times when your friends start playing a round of beer pong.

Admittedly, there are one or two improvements that I’d like to see made. The first deals with a little thing that can make recording a big problem – the screen. It’s about the same size as the screen on a first-generation iPod nano. Even worse, it’s a fullscreen ratio for recording in widescreen. The makers of the Flip have attempted to justify this odd choice by putting the battery and recording information in the black bars on the top and bottom, but it’s still a stupid choice. The Mino HD should have the lens turned 90° and a proper widescreen placed on the back, rather like the new iPod nano (imagine the click wheel as the recording controls). It’s an odd design choice, and it could be a deal-breaker for some of you.

The second problem is more minor. Since the camera is essentially an extension of your hand (and lacks image stabilization), it records every little twitch of your hand in beautiful HD. You can probably see that the video above looks like “Cloverfield” as seen from a Starbucks location. Happily, the new version of iMovie will have a stabilization feature, which I can’t wait to get my (shaky) hands on.

In conclusion, the Flip Mino HD is an incredible little camera, marred only by a few faults. These faults might not be a deal-breaker if you want to get the absolute best quality footage of your drunk friends at a college party. And since Facebook and YouTube (amongst other sites) now show HD, it’s a great time to buy. In short, the Flip is the iPod of camcorders. It doesn’t do anything truly new or revolutionary, and lacks features that competitors have. However, it does everything it can do in the best, most elegant fashion.

The beans were ground using a Rancilio Rocky grinder immediately before pouring the shot. I poured a double shot and made it into an Americano, because I’m a pompous Apple-using, New York Times-reading, Americano-drinking douchebag.

The initial taste of the coffee was rather mild for Starbucks, and also unusually lively and interesting. The beans were, as with almost all Starbucks blends, very over-roasted, but they still retained a little bit of decent body, which was nice. True to the marketing rhetoric, the coffee had a fairly spicy taste, and a short aftertaste, making it a very good evening coffee.

Overall, I’d give the blend a 6.5/10. It was clean and had some spice (and was one of Starbucks’ better efforts), but was bitter and over-roasted.

I went to see the midnight Calgary premiere of Quantum on Thursday night (Friday morning, for those who actually care), and I must say, it was good. Not mindblowing, but good.

The film opens minutes after the ending of Casino Royale, with a spectacular car chase throughout the tunnels and a quarry in Italy, reminiscent of the foot chase opening in Royale through the construction site. It’s a rather short pre-titles sequence, which then cuts to one of the best title animation sequences I’ve seen in Bond history. Interestingly, the start of the film after the credit sequence takes place mere minutes after the pre-titles sequence ended, which is a rarity in the world of James Bond.

This rapid-fire pace barely lets up over the course of the entire film, which is both a blessing and a curse. It keeps you riveted to the screen unlike almost any other film that I can think of, however it also makes the already short film feel even shorter.

Things I Really Liked

If this entry in the franchise is nothing else, it’s the only Bond film to date that’s an art & design film. The set design is especially beautiful, with stark, modern furnishings that reflect Bond’s coldness. He’s learned his lesson in love and trust and is still feeling the pain of the loss of Vesper. All of the set design, from the black & white, modern hotel to the observatory seem to reflect this. The ESO Hotel, in particular, will go down as one of the greatest Bond sets in the series’ history.

As mentioned briefly (and linked) above, I felt that the title sequence (designed by newcomers MK12) was astonishing. It foreshadowed the film’s climax beautifully, and reintroduces those sexy title sequence girls (you know what I’m talking about). Since it doesn’t have the geometric “drawn” style of the Royale animation, it’s much, much better.

Most of the film is beautifully shot, with breathtaking imagery and gripping action sequences. Sadly, it does get claustrophobic at times, due to (presumably) short lenses, which make it feel less glamorous than it should be. Even the typography during location changes is stunning.

The chosen actors and actresses in this film are surprisingly excellent in their roles. When I first watched the behind-the-scenes footage, nobody really stood out as being a Bond actor. However, after seeing their performances on the big screen, I was impressed by the casting.

Other things I enjoyed were the continuation of the gritty, serious feel, the soundtrack, and the skilled direction of the film by Marc Forster.

Things I Didn’t Like

The major problem with this film is that it doesn’t feel like a classic Bond film any more. But maybe our expectations were wrong. If the producers kept churning out copies of old films, I wouldn’t be impressed. Therefore, I propose that we give the newest generation of Bond its own designation. Dr. No through Die Another Day are all very formulaic, and therefore are “classic” Bond films. Being a reboot, Casino Royale abandoned all sense of continuity, and therefore should be considered the “new” James Bond. But I digress…

The plot in this film is a bit thin. In some ways, that’s a good thing – the oft-most criticized part of Layer Cake (another Daniel Craig film) is the complex plot. But it didn’t have the immediate scariness of Thunderball, for example, with the villain holding countries hostage with atomic power. This film is more realistic, and with that, a certain fantastical magic that Bond films have traditionally had is lost.

The only other critique I could offer of this film is that it was far too short. I believe that they could have spent more time telling the story and it would be just as interesting (if not moreso) and nudge the 2:00 mark quite comfortably.

Final Rating

10 – Thunderball, Goldfinger and Casino Royale

9

8

7 – Quantum of Solace

6

5

4

3

2

1 – Die Another Day, Moonraker

Verdict: Action-packed and edgy, but somehow lacking Bondian magic.