Monday, November 27, 2006
Le Gavroche and the Theory of Everything
Physicists today strive for a "GUT". Not, as you might think, the outward bulging sign of an overindulgence in the finer things of life, which of course is appropriate for a Piggly Wiggly review, but rather a "Grand Unified Theory", uniting all of the known universal physical forces in a harmony of mathematical precision and concision, commonly known as a "theory of everything". Little do they know that a theory of everything already exists, of my own devising, which I'll share with you now. My theory of everything states that about 90% of everything is rubbish. 90% of books, TV, cinema, theatre, people, events, music and crucially for this review, restaurants, are rubbish (or pretty much thereabouts).
Is this not a depressing statistic I hear you cry, if we are doomed to spend nine tenths of our time in the mire of mediocrity? On the contrary, all the joyous things in life, the things that make, not to wax too philosophical here, life worth living, are about discovering the 10% that's either really good, or even occasionally, where ordinary superlatives breakdown and you find yourself sampling the very top 1% of the finest things there are to enjoy physically and/or intellectually. Or rather, to be more specific, the top 10% of the top 10% of things that you, in particular, might enjoy, wherever your own sick, twisted tastes and fancies deliver you. The mathematically inclined amongst you, or indeed just the slightly wilier, will of course realise that by assuming the truth of my assertion, 90% of theories are also rubbish. Aha, clever, you see? In which percentile my theory of everything lies, is therefore left as an exercise for the reader.
Le Gavroche, just off Park Lane, on the surface, both when you look at it from the outside, and when you descend into the velvety, warm, decorous interior of it's evidently lush and well to do basement dining room, past it's swanky ground floor bar, does not strike one as one of those "90% experiences".
Our 18:30 reservation brought us into a slightly under populated room, but still buzzing nicely, which filled up quickly thereafter anyhow. "People watching" to coin a phrase of the parlance of our times, is greatly facilitated by the relatively open plan design, so I can only deduce that chief amongst the attractions of the space is both being seen, and, to judge by the Hedge Fund Type Expense Account Toffs loudly holding forth at the table next to us, heard. Piggly Wiggly informed me that in Hedge Fund circles Le Gavroche is the local "des-res" (desired reservation) for expense account entertaining, and judging by the smattering of European languages, and evidently post work besuited and booted clientele, I was in no doubt as to the correctness of the reputation. This makes an interesting contrast to some smaller dining spaces, where sitting down to table is about the culinary experience, as opposed to the expense or the expanse of the dining. In retrospect, I think this might not be a particularly foodie-serious atmosphere for a Gastro-Piggly, so be warned.
Service was prompt and fairly unassuming to start with, and we kicked off with a couple of glasses of vintage Taittanger Champagne. I'm moved to wonder at this point about aperitifs. In all their bewildering variety, there can be only one that, for it's purity and refreshment, wins out every time - and that's clearly a glass of champagne. I often see people with Gin and Tonics, beers, pints and all sorts of alcoholic non sequiters clutched in their sweaty digits as they make their way to tables (or have it brought, in the classier joints), but I can never figure out why. Cocktails are for cocktail hour, not an immediate pre-prandial tipple. Indeed, there are chefs who will refuse you a Singapore Sling, A Roaring Twenties or whatever your concoction of choice might be, on the grounds, justifiably, that it interferes with their culinary master plans for you. Observant readers will note the evident restraint I've applied in not using some of the more common and vulgar cocktail monikers to go for the obvious snicker, for which you can thank me later.
Anyhow, menu choice is simplified greatly in a restaurant like Le Gavroche, when, like Piggly Wiggly and myself, you have cast off the chains of petty bourgeois morals, and (with the aid of some starvation dieting) have just decided to pork out and go for the degustation menu (7 courses, including 2 deserts, plus a cheese plate). With matching wines you are, as we used to say in our local Cummann, "elected".
Course the first: Poached scallop with a julienne of vegetables and ginger and spicy red pepper. This was revelatory. For an instant I thought we were receiving sushi until I cut into an tasted the scallop, pleasingly plump, a good two or three mouthfuls of sweet meaty juicyness. I still prefer them fried but this was utterly delicious - not overwhelmed by the ginger in any way (although the vegetable medley was a tad salty for one mouthful) and perfectly cooked, with a perfect wine accompaniment.
Course the second: Crayfish tails in a butter sauce with escargots. Again, somewhat revelatory - quite how you decide to pair up snails and tails I don't know but it worked exceedingly well - probably because they met somewhere in the middle of that deliciously light, creamy butter sauce, with a delicious little dollop of garlickly-oily pesto as well.
Course the third: Fillet of John-Dory with garlic crostini and with an aubergine thing on the garlic toast and some sort of very spicy thing as well. To me this was the pinnacle of the evening's enteratainment. Quite how it's possible to create something so spicy, with such crystal clear favlour sa the same time, in particular with something as delicate as fish, and John Dory at that, is beyond me - which is why I'm a consumer, not a creator of fine dining I suppose. The garlic crostini coated with aubergine added a great cruncy contrast to the thin layer of broth 'ponst which the John-dory sat, succulent and again, ferfectly cooked, not one iota of the flavour being lost in the spice and the delicate garlic.
Course the fourth: Foie gras with crispy duck pancake. Now, call me inhumane, but I "lerve" foie gras, so I was eagerly anticipating this course. However, it turned out to be quite disappointing. First and foremost, it was certainly not a great piece of meat, it was not cooked particularly well, and came with a pointless accompaniment of a crispy (i.e. dry) duck pancake, of all things, and a hoi sin sauce, that Piggly Wiggly described as being like an "overcooked duck samosa". In it's own richness, the accompaniment did nothing to improve or compliment the foie gras. In fact, it detracted. Compared to many memorable foie gras starters we've had, this was a dismal failure. For example, in one 3 Star, a superp piece of meat, which was both superior in quality and cooking, came with a nice, simple, sweet, crab crisp; in New York, we had a stunning accompaniment to the biggest chunk of foie gras I've ever had, of sauterne grapes in a light gravy, brilliantly allowing the richness and texture of the foie gras to melt around the mouth; or indeed in just a plain old bog standard French restaurant near Grenoble, where Piggly Wiggly got an eye poppingly enormous tranche de foie gras with a simple crispy salad; or, at another 2 Star establishment, where we had an utterly surprising foie gras, poached in a jar with a cauliflower cream. This was really quite a let down after the trio of superb starters and we were hoping it was just a blip. However…...
Course the fifith: Venison. While perfectly cooked, just rare enough, with excellent accompanying vegtables and sauce, this venison was a touch bland for my taste. While I will admit that I prefer game to be gamey to the point of giving you slight palpitations as to whether you should really be eating something quite as rancid as this, this was merely a texture rather than a flavour - a very nice texture, mind you, but still pretty much flavourless all the same. Unfortunately, not much could redeem this course in my view. Piggly Wiggly was of much the same opinion, although the wine pairing did something to mitigate the failure.
A word on the service at this point - it was pleasant and efficient, however, it was also somewhat less than enthusiastic in terms of explaining the dishes and in particular the wine accompaniment. At other locations, the sommellier delivered such mouth watering descriptions of the wines accompanying the meal, and what it was meant to accentuate, that we were practically grabbing the bottle and swigging it back before he was finished. Here I felt a little short changed in terms of what we were supposed to be looking out for in the wines and the food. In any event, it didn't mar the vening in any way, but it didn't add a great deal either.
Course the fromage: After an appropriate and decent interval, we decided to gird our now considerably porkier loins, for a cheese plate selection. We requested, as is our wont, the stronger variety of cheeses, and received a reasonable selection of good to moderate cheeses with decent wafter thin biscuit selections, along with some celery. All in all satisfying and adequate, and I'm not trying to damn with faint priase here.
Course the sixth: a dark chocolate gateau with a praline nutty cream, only slightly memorable, but tasty all the same - not a favourite with Piggly Wiggly though.
Course the seventh: Upside down tarte tatin. Unfortunately, I'm just not a fan of apple tart, whatever fancy way it's dressed up, so this was a bit of a "miss" for me. PW is a fan though and pronounced it worthy.
Course the petits fours and coffee: my decaf had that percolated to death hint of Bisto gravy grnaules about it, but the petits fours were good, although not remarkable.
Overall - would I say Le Gavroche is well worth it's Two Star Michelin assignation? Deffinitely yes, in particular if you compare it to the overwhelming disappointment of Patrick Guilbaud in Dublin (the only 2 star restaurant in Ireland). However, utlimately, it was quite pricey, even considering the degustation menu, the matching wines and service (aboout 380 GBP in total).
That of course reflects the clientele, undoubtedly the Expense Account Brigade from Hedge Fund Central. However, for value, and quality, it certainly is no where near it's other 2 Star London rivals to which we've paid visits.
Some good things: utterly sublime wine accompaniments, excellent starters (scallop, crayfish with escargots, john-dory); good cheese plate and good wine list as well.
Some not so good things: outside of the degustation menu, nothing sufficiently tempting to take you to A La Carte Land; somewhat unenthusiastic service, the course and wine pairings being a bit under-explained; an inconsistency in the quality of the courses (excellent being directly followed by the merely passable); only okayish deserts in my view (which is a key factor in forming my opinion, generally). Also, for the Gastro-Piggly on the look out for a special occasion restaurant, a more impressive dining space, and potentially less expense account stuffed atmosphere might be had at say a place like Gordon Ramsey at Claridge's, or even the Wolsley, although the food at the latter, while constantly improving in our view, isn't Michelin Starred.
While on the whole Le Gavroche has a very well deserved reputation, with good service and an enticing wine and degustation menu, many of the courses of which, but crucially not all, were superbly executed, and would be a good stop off on the way to giving your boss a heart attack when next he reviews your expense account, for the Piggly Wiggly Epicurean Oddyssey, it's neither sufficiently good value, adventurous enough menu-wise, or foody-centric enough, to entice a second visit.
Is this not a depressing statistic I hear you cry, if we are doomed to spend nine tenths of our time in the mire of mediocrity? On the contrary, all the joyous things in life, the things that make, not to wax too philosophical here, life worth living, are about discovering the 10% that's either really good, or even occasionally, where ordinary superlatives breakdown and you find yourself sampling the very top 1% of the finest things there are to enjoy physically and/or intellectually. Or rather, to be more specific, the top 10% of the top 10% of things that you, in particular, might enjoy, wherever your own sick, twisted tastes and fancies deliver you. The mathematically inclined amongst you, or indeed just the slightly wilier, will of course realise that by assuming the truth of my assertion, 90% of theories are also rubbish. Aha, clever, you see? In which percentile my theory of everything lies, is therefore left as an exercise for the reader.
Le Gavroche, just off Park Lane, on the surface, both when you look at it from the outside, and when you descend into the velvety, warm, decorous interior of it's evidently lush and well to do basement dining room, past it's swanky ground floor bar, does not strike one as one of those "90% experiences".
Our 18:30 reservation brought us into a slightly under populated room, but still buzzing nicely, which filled up quickly thereafter anyhow. "People watching" to coin a phrase of the parlance of our times, is greatly facilitated by the relatively open plan design, so I can only deduce that chief amongst the attractions of the space is both being seen, and, to judge by the Hedge Fund Type Expense Account Toffs loudly holding forth at the table next to us, heard. Piggly Wiggly informed me that in Hedge Fund circles Le Gavroche is the local "des-res" (desired reservation) for expense account entertaining, and judging by the smattering of European languages, and evidently post work besuited and booted clientele, I was in no doubt as to the correctness of the reputation. This makes an interesting contrast to some smaller dining spaces, where sitting down to table is about the culinary experience, as opposed to the expense or the expanse of the dining. In retrospect, I think this might not be a particularly foodie-serious atmosphere for a Gastro-Piggly, so be warned.
Service was prompt and fairly unassuming to start with, and we kicked off with a couple of glasses of vintage Taittanger Champagne. I'm moved to wonder at this point about aperitifs. In all their bewildering variety, there can be only one that, for it's purity and refreshment, wins out every time - and that's clearly a glass of champagne. I often see people with Gin and Tonics, beers, pints and all sorts of alcoholic non sequiters clutched in their sweaty digits as they make their way to tables (or have it brought, in the classier joints), but I can never figure out why. Cocktails are for cocktail hour, not an immediate pre-prandial tipple. Indeed, there are chefs who will refuse you a Singapore Sling, A Roaring Twenties or whatever your concoction of choice might be, on the grounds, justifiably, that it interferes with their culinary master plans for you. Observant readers will note the evident restraint I've applied in not using some of the more common and vulgar cocktail monikers to go for the obvious snicker, for which you can thank me later.
Anyhow, menu choice is simplified greatly in a restaurant like Le Gavroche, when, like Piggly Wiggly and myself, you have cast off the chains of petty bourgeois morals, and (with the aid of some starvation dieting) have just decided to pork out and go for the degustation menu (7 courses, including 2 deserts, plus a cheese plate). With matching wines you are, as we used to say in our local Cummann, "elected".
Course the first: Poached scallop with a julienne of vegetables and ginger and spicy red pepper. This was revelatory. For an instant I thought we were receiving sushi until I cut into an tasted the scallop, pleasingly plump, a good two or three mouthfuls of sweet meaty juicyness. I still prefer them fried but this was utterly delicious - not overwhelmed by the ginger in any way (although the vegetable medley was a tad salty for one mouthful) and perfectly cooked, with a perfect wine accompaniment.
Course the second: Crayfish tails in a butter sauce with escargots. Again, somewhat revelatory - quite how you decide to pair up snails and tails I don't know but it worked exceedingly well - probably because they met somewhere in the middle of that deliciously light, creamy butter sauce, with a delicious little dollop of garlickly-oily pesto as well.
Course the third: Fillet of John-Dory with garlic crostini and with an aubergine thing on the garlic toast and some sort of very spicy thing as well. To me this was the pinnacle of the evening's enteratainment. Quite how it's possible to create something so spicy, with such crystal clear favlour sa the same time, in particular with something as delicate as fish, and John Dory at that, is beyond me - which is why I'm a consumer, not a creator of fine dining I suppose. The garlic crostini coated with aubergine added a great cruncy contrast to the thin layer of broth 'ponst which the John-dory sat, succulent and again, ferfectly cooked, not one iota of the flavour being lost in the spice and the delicate garlic.
Course the fourth: Foie gras with crispy duck pancake. Now, call me inhumane, but I "lerve" foie gras, so I was eagerly anticipating this course. However, it turned out to be quite disappointing. First and foremost, it was certainly not a great piece of meat, it was not cooked particularly well, and came with a pointless accompaniment of a crispy (i.e. dry) duck pancake, of all things, and a hoi sin sauce, that Piggly Wiggly described as being like an "overcooked duck samosa". In it's own richness, the accompaniment did nothing to improve or compliment the foie gras. In fact, it detracted. Compared to many memorable foie gras starters we've had, this was a dismal failure. For example, in one 3 Star, a superp piece of meat, which was both superior in quality and cooking, came with a nice, simple, sweet, crab crisp; in New York, we had a stunning accompaniment to the biggest chunk of foie gras I've ever had, of sauterne grapes in a light gravy, brilliantly allowing the richness and texture of the foie gras to melt around the mouth; or indeed in just a plain old bog standard French restaurant near Grenoble, where Piggly Wiggly got an eye poppingly enormous tranche de foie gras with a simple crispy salad; or, at another 2 Star establishment, where we had an utterly surprising foie gras, poached in a jar with a cauliflower cream. This was really quite a let down after the trio of superb starters and we were hoping it was just a blip. However…...
Course the fifith: Venison. While perfectly cooked, just rare enough, with excellent accompanying vegtables and sauce, this venison was a touch bland for my taste. While I will admit that I prefer game to be gamey to the point of giving you slight palpitations as to whether you should really be eating something quite as rancid as this, this was merely a texture rather than a flavour - a very nice texture, mind you, but still pretty much flavourless all the same. Unfortunately, not much could redeem this course in my view. Piggly Wiggly was of much the same opinion, although the wine pairing did something to mitigate the failure.
A word on the service at this point - it was pleasant and efficient, however, it was also somewhat less than enthusiastic in terms of explaining the dishes and in particular the wine accompaniment. At other locations, the sommellier delivered such mouth watering descriptions of the wines accompanying the meal, and what it was meant to accentuate, that we were practically grabbing the bottle and swigging it back before he was finished. Here I felt a little short changed in terms of what we were supposed to be looking out for in the wines and the food. In any event, it didn't mar the vening in any way, but it didn't add a great deal either.
Course the fromage: After an appropriate and decent interval, we decided to gird our now considerably porkier loins, for a cheese plate selection. We requested, as is our wont, the stronger variety of cheeses, and received a reasonable selection of good to moderate cheeses with decent wafter thin biscuit selections, along with some celery. All in all satisfying and adequate, and I'm not trying to damn with faint priase here.
Course the sixth: a dark chocolate gateau with a praline nutty cream, only slightly memorable, but tasty all the same - not a favourite with Piggly Wiggly though.
Course the seventh: Upside down tarte tatin. Unfortunately, I'm just not a fan of apple tart, whatever fancy way it's dressed up, so this was a bit of a "miss" for me. PW is a fan though and pronounced it worthy.
Course the petits fours and coffee: my decaf had that percolated to death hint of Bisto gravy grnaules about it, but the petits fours were good, although not remarkable.
Overall - would I say Le Gavroche is well worth it's Two Star Michelin assignation? Deffinitely yes, in particular if you compare it to the overwhelming disappointment of Patrick Guilbaud in Dublin (the only 2 star restaurant in Ireland). However, utlimately, it was quite pricey, even considering the degustation menu, the matching wines and service (aboout 380 GBP in total).
That of course reflects the clientele, undoubtedly the Expense Account Brigade from Hedge Fund Central. However, for value, and quality, it certainly is no where near it's other 2 Star London rivals to which we've paid visits.
Some good things: utterly sublime wine accompaniments, excellent starters (scallop, crayfish with escargots, john-dory); good cheese plate and good wine list as well.
Some not so good things: outside of the degustation menu, nothing sufficiently tempting to take you to A La Carte Land; somewhat unenthusiastic service, the course and wine pairings being a bit under-explained; an inconsistency in the quality of the courses (excellent being directly followed by the merely passable); only okayish deserts in my view (which is a key factor in forming my opinion, generally). Also, for the Gastro-Piggly on the look out for a special occasion restaurant, a more impressive dining space, and potentially less expense account stuffed atmosphere might be had at say a place like Gordon Ramsey at Claridge's, or even the Wolsley, although the food at the latter, while constantly improving in our view, isn't Michelin Starred.
While on the whole Le Gavroche has a very well deserved reputation, with good service and an enticing wine and degustation menu, many of the courses of which, but crucially not all, were superbly executed, and would be a good stop off on the way to giving your boss a heart attack when next he reviews your expense account, for the Piggly Wiggly Epicurean Oddyssey, it's neither sufficiently good value, adventurous enough menu-wise, or foody-centric enough, to entice a second visit.
# posted by Flann O'Brien @ 10:26 AM
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
A Right Royale Pain in the Balls
It's often said that politicians are out of touch with both reality and the great British Public. A massive disconnect to do with voter apathy, a general distrust of politicians (who are, by the almighty wisdom of opinion polls, "lower than estate agents"), disaffected "yoof" and so on. However, it's hardly surprising, because it seems that the great British Public is well out of touch with anything approaching reality, to judge by the reaction to "Casino Royale" on the BBC News (NEWS, I ask you) web site.
http://newsforums.bbc.co.uk/nol/thread.jspa?threadID=4773&&edition=1&ttl=20061120122938
I feel privileged indeed that my hard earned spondoolicks are not only funding the BBC to give a forum to it's innumerate and scientifically illiterate journalists to spend their time debunking peer reviewed, expertly authored, epidemiological studies about mortality rates in Iraq, but also to give a forum to the equally inept and cinematically illiterate portion of the disengaged British Public that, taken in by the media hyping blitz krieg of propaganda surrounding Casino Royale, have fallen completely for it and believe that, despite the evidence before their very eyes, the steaming pile of festering crap on cinema screens up and down the land, is something approaching a half way decent piece film.
Ok, I'll admit, I'm not a Bond fan. Pretty much I never have been. For example, I used to think Roger Moore was the best Bond, but when I was a kid he was making a lot more of them, and Moonraker did approximate a Sci-Fi film, which is something I've always been a fan of, albeit a tackily cheap one, even for the '80's. More latterly I feel Connery was obviously the best, but that's just because he was a better actor, nothing else. And let's face it, once they got beyond the gadgets with the evident demise of Q, nothing of any interest or surprise ever happens or happened in a James Bond film. Ever. Name one twist, one unexpected plot device, one surprise, one "well I didn't see that coming", or one "that's new" that you've ever gasped when you've seen one. Apart from the gadgets (gondolas turning into speed boats and so on)? You see? Nothing.
"Hahaa" you might say, "that's the point - it's a cinematic convention - we expect a teaser introduction, a flirtation with Moneypenny, an assignment from M, a foreign location, lots of gadgets from Q, much mayhem, lot's of explosions, a few fist fights, a few stop overs for shags with lovely ladies, a secret base detonating, and a comedy shag at the end with a receiver being turned off on indignant MI6 officials, while Bond plus A.N Other model get it on upside down in the torpedo tube of a submersible of some description. The enjoyment comes from seeing what kinds of things happen along the way, we enjoy the familiarity and the easy charm of Bond demolishing villains and causing devastation as he goes, and the cool manner of his dispassionate dispatching of his enemies. We enjoy the cool calm sophistication of this ice-cold killer (the champagne, the caviar, foie gras, the martinis, the sharp suits, all the easy expectation of a public school boy for the finer things in life). He's like a sort of good guy Hannibal Lecter - except we are never repelled by his brutality, only charmed as he dispenses his Arnie Schwarzenegger like witticisms over the corpses of his always-asking-for-it victims with all the subtlety of a bullet in the face ('shocking', 'he lost his head', 'stick around' and so forth)".
Well you might say that, if you had a brain. Mostly you'd probably say "go and see the new James Bond film - it's brilliant - now, the weather".
I had the misfortune to see this utter dross because of a simple moment of weakness last Sunday. My girlfriend had been slavering for weeks about Daniel Craig in the role, and I thought "it can't possible be worse that all the other ones", and I'd been reasonably impressed by Daniel Craig in "Enduring Love", plus it had received a thumbs-up from a previously impeccable source, so I thought, why not?
The plot, if you can call it that? Below par even for Bond - in the post 9-11 world a banker to the world's "terrorists" gambles their money on the stock market, by shorting airline stock, and plans his own airline terror stunt. Bond foils his plans and forces Le Chiffre, a "mathematical genius and gambler" to set up a high stakes, make or break poker game to win back the money he lost in his failed stock market gamble. So far so hum-drum. Apart from the utterly ludicrous plot inconsistencies. First, this is supposed to be Bond's very first mission as a "double-oh agent". Post 9-11? Right. And why would a methodical genius decide that gambling his stake away was a clever use of the money? And why would MI6 and the CIA wait until after a poker game to want to take this guy down/out or whatever they do, when they could just pick him up there and then? Even suspending disbelief, this is stretching it.
So the action? Well, the initial chase through an African building site is bland enough, with Daniel Craig being stunt doubled in about 2 out of every 3 shots; one or two reasonable free running stunts, for some bizarre reason. Now, I thought I had already missed that fad a couple of years ago, but it seems to be making a resurgence (in Cason Royale and in Breaking and Entering - at least in the trailers for it). I expect in a few years the noughties it will be looked on like all those 80's films where you had to have leg warmers and a montage scene in order to have any sort of street credibility. Much is seemingly being made of the fact that the action sequences show that "Bond can bleed", and "he gets hurt", and the action has a "more gritty feel". Hmmmm. Maybe, but that doesn't meant that they are any good as action sequences - any Jackie Chan film, ANY one of them, contains better and more interesting choreographed fight sequences than anything in Casino Royale, and you almost never seen any blood in them. There is, for example, and excellent fight scene in "Gross Point Blank" between John Cusack and a "spook" assassin in the corridor of a school, which for pace, action, direction, style and "grittyness" far outstrips anything in this film. And even the Bourne identity, and the Bourne Supremacy, even though they were woeful had good gritty fight scenes. Yes there's blood, yes there's pain, but none of it is interesting. And as for the much vaunted "showering fully clothed comforting Vesper scene after a traumatic murder" baloney: even my girlfriend, who had enjoyed the soft porn Daniel Craig moments, was laughing (not the intended response I feel).
The one welcome departure from the norm was the standard Bond torture sequence - yet another chance for girly soft porn as Craig gets stripped to his proverbials, and has a nasty series of heavy rope lashes applied to his undercarriage, exposed in a hollowed out chair. "I never understood the need for all those elaborate torture methods" opines Mikkelsen, as Le Chiffre, the subtly disfigured villain, referring to the "Take Mr. Bond away and give him plenty of time to escape" standard scene from the early Bond films. Indeed. If all he wanted was Bond's password he could have tried something infinitely easier - just phone him up on his mobile and try a little social engineering - tell him that it was the MI6 IT desk phoning to perform some routine account maintenance. Or just guess. "Aston Martin", "Bentley", "Shamrock Rovers", or perhaps the name of his current squeeze even, "Vesper" would be good starting guesses. What a funny name - that's a real selling point for film. NOT.
The central action of the film, the supposedly "brilliantly tense" poker game, is nothing of the sort. Not only is the action interrupted several times for idiotic digressions (I was hoping against hope that poison or the terrorists would kill Bond and ease my suffering), but the game itself is intentionally cryptic so that you know the results only when the director wants you to. Plus, whatever action there was (if you can call cards being turned over and a dealer calling hands "action") was supplemented by irritating asides from Giancarlo Giannini, as Mathis, to Vesper Lynd, the supposedly "extremely bright" treasury agent love interest, sent to keep an eye on Bond, unfortunately though without, it seems, even the most rudimentary briefing in counting the face value of casino chips, or how the game of poker is played. Mathis, the "helpful" local MI6 contact, leant close on half a dozen occasions to growl: "14 million in the pot", "28 million in the pot", "all-in means he has to play all his money", "Bond needs and ace to win" and so on. Basically it was like watching one of those all night celebrity poker matches complete with annoying commentary. Just when you thought Hollywood couldn't get any more condescending.
By the time the baddie is all too easily dispatched (without even a mano-a-mano, and not even by Bond's own hand), the girl saved, James' nads re-confirmed in working order after his torture ordeal, and a few nice shots of Venice are in the can, you're left wondering how long it will take for the love interest to turn on James and bring this pain in the balls film to an end. The answer is "longer than most people can stand". By the end of this drivel most of the audience I saw this with were talking amongst themselves, much to the chagrin of one man who asked some people angrily to stop talking, presumably as he was trying to sleep. The introduction of a "twist" in the end, to herald the return of the Bond status quo is as heavy handed as it is unnecessary, and personally, I couldn't get out of the cinema quick enough.
Despite what that prostitute Jonathan Ross may tell you (he gets privileged access to the set and interviews with the celebs - in return he's really sold out his credibility by having too many Hollywood friends that he can't piss off by giving bad reviews to their films - like Russell Crowe and now the cast, crew and director of James Bond films - I mean what's wrong with the Barry Normal model - send a reporter to do the onsite location reporting, keep a distance from the makers of the film, and keep your integrity for your film reviews), this drivel is not worth letting some one PAY YOU to watch, never mind shelling out 10 quid to go and see it.
It's pretty obvious from the "pedigree" of director Martin Campbell (which includes such visionary and groundbreaking films as "Vertical Limit", "The Mask of Zorro", and a pile of second rate TV) that this was never going to be anything approaching a good film - merely a hodge podge of "On Her Majesty's Secret Service", plus "Casino Royale", and 100 million dollars down the drain.
If I'd been kicked in the balls and had 10 quid robbed from me, I'd have had only a marginally worse time.
http://newsforums.bbc.co.uk/nol/thread.jspa?threadID=4773&&edition=1&ttl=20061120122938
I feel privileged indeed that my hard earned spondoolicks are not only funding the BBC to give a forum to it's innumerate and scientifically illiterate journalists to spend their time debunking peer reviewed, expertly authored, epidemiological studies about mortality rates in Iraq, but also to give a forum to the equally inept and cinematically illiterate portion of the disengaged British Public that, taken in by the media hyping blitz krieg of propaganda surrounding Casino Royale, have fallen completely for it and believe that, despite the evidence before their very eyes, the steaming pile of festering crap on cinema screens up and down the land, is something approaching a half way decent piece film.
Ok, I'll admit, I'm not a Bond fan. Pretty much I never have been. For example, I used to think Roger Moore was the best Bond, but when I was a kid he was making a lot more of them, and Moonraker did approximate a Sci-Fi film, which is something I've always been a fan of, albeit a tackily cheap one, even for the '80's. More latterly I feel Connery was obviously the best, but that's just because he was a better actor, nothing else. And let's face it, once they got beyond the gadgets with the evident demise of Q, nothing of any interest or surprise ever happens or happened in a James Bond film. Ever. Name one twist, one unexpected plot device, one surprise, one "well I didn't see that coming", or one "that's new" that you've ever gasped when you've seen one. Apart from the gadgets (gondolas turning into speed boats and so on)? You see? Nothing.
"Hahaa" you might say, "that's the point - it's a cinematic convention - we expect a teaser introduction, a flirtation with Moneypenny, an assignment from M, a foreign location, lots of gadgets from Q, much mayhem, lot's of explosions, a few fist fights, a few stop overs for shags with lovely ladies, a secret base detonating, and a comedy shag at the end with a receiver being turned off on indignant MI6 officials, while Bond plus A.N Other model get it on upside down in the torpedo tube of a submersible of some description. The enjoyment comes from seeing what kinds of things happen along the way, we enjoy the familiarity and the easy charm of Bond demolishing villains and causing devastation as he goes, and the cool manner of his dispassionate dispatching of his enemies. We enjoy the cool calm sophistication of this ice-cold killer (the champagne, the caviar, foie gras, the martinis, the sharp suits, all the easy expectation of a public school boy for the finer things in life). He's like a sort of good guy Hannibal Lecter - except we are never repelled by his brutality, only charmed as he dispenses his Arnie Schwarzenegger like witticisms over the corpses of his always-asking-for-it victims with all the subtlety of a bullet in the face ('shocking', 'he lost his head', 'stick around' and so forth)".
Well you might say that, if you had a brain. Mostly you'd probably say "go and see the new James Bond film - it's brilliant - now, the weather".
I had the misfortune to see this utter dross because of a simple moment of weakness last Sunday. My girlfriend had been slavering for weeks about Daniel Craig in the role, and I thought "it can't possible be worse that all the other ones", and I'd been reasonably impressed by Daniel Craig in "Enduring Love", plus it had received a thumbs-up from a previously impeccable source, so I thought, why not?
The plot, if you can call it that? Below par even for Bond - in the post 9-11 world a banker to the world's "terrorists" gambles their money on the stock market, by shorting airline stock, and plans his own airline terror stunt. Bond foils his plans and forces Le Chiffre, a "mathematical genius and gambler" to set up a high stakes, make or break poker game to win back the money he lost in his failed stock market gamble. So far so hum-drum. Apart from the utterly ludicrous plot inconsistencies. First, this is supposed to be Bond's very first mission as a "double-oh agent". Post 9-11? Right. And why would a methodical genius decide that gambling his stake away was a clever use of the money? And why would MI6 and the CIA wait until after a poker game to want to take this guy down/out or whatever they do, when they could just pick him up there and then? Even suspending disbelief, this is stretching it.
So the action? Well, the initial chase through an African building site is bland enough, with Daniel Craig being stunt doubled in about 2 out of every 3 shots; one or two reasonable free running stunts, for some bizarre reason. Now, I thought I had already missed that fad a couple of years ago, but it seems to be making a resurgence (in Cason Royale and in Breaking and Entering - at least in the trailers for it). I expect in a few years the noughties it will be looked on like all those 80's films where you had to have leg warmers and a montage scene in order to have any sort of street credibility. Much is seemingly being made of the fact that the action sequences show that "Bond can bleed", and "he gets hurt", and the action has a "more gritty feel". Hmmmm. Maybe, but that doesn't meant that they are any good as action sequences - any Jackie Chan film, ANY one of them, contains better and more interesting choreographed fight sequences than anything in Casino Royale, and you almost never seen any blood in them. There is, for example, and excellent fight scene in "Gross Point Blank" between John Cusack and a "spook" assassin in the corridor of a school, which for pace, action, direction, style and "grittyness" far outstrips anything in this film. And even the Bourne identity, and the Bourne Supremacy, even though they were woeful had good gritty fight scenes. Yes there's blood, yes there's pain, but none of it is interesting. And as for the much vaunted "showering fully clothed comforting Vesper scene after a traumatic murder" baloney: even my girlfriend, who had enjoyed the soft porn Daniel Craig moments, was laughing (not the intended response I feel).
The one welcome departure from the norm was the standard Bond torture sequence - yet another chance for girly soft porn as Craig gets stripped to his proverbials, and has a nasty series of heavy rope lashes applied to his undercarriage, exposed in a hollowed out chair. "I never understood the need for all those elaborate torture methods" opines Mikkelsen, as Le Chiffre, the subtly disfigured villain, referring to the "Take Mr. Bond away and give him plenty of time to escape" standard scene from the early Bond films. Indeed. If all he wanted was Bond's password he could have tried something infinitely easier - just phone him up on his mobile and try a little social engineering - tell him that it was the MI6 IT desk phoning to perform some routine account maintenance. Or just guess. "Aston Martin", "Bentley", "Shamrock Rovers", or perhaps the name of his current squeeze even, "Vesper" would be good starting guesses. What a funny name - that's a real selling point for film. NOT.
The central action of the film, the supposedly "brilliantly tense" poker game, is nothing of the sort. Not only is the action interrupted several times for idiotic digressions (I was hoping against hope that poison or the terrorists would kill Bond and ease my suffering), but the game itself is intentionally cryptic so that you know the results only when the director wants you to. Plus, whatever action there was (if you can call cards being turned over and a dealer calling hands "action") was supplemented by irritating asides from Giancarlo Giannini, as Mathis, to Vesper Lynd, the supposedly "extremely bright" treasury agent love interest, sent to keep an eye on Bond, unfortunately though without, it seems, even the most rudimentary briefing in counting the face value of casino chips, or how the game of poker is played. Mathis, the "helpful" local MI6 contact, leant close on half a dozen occasions to growl: "14 million in the pot", "28 million in the pot", "all-in means he has to play all his money", "Bond needs and ace to win" and so on. Basically it was like watching one of those all night celebrity poker matches complete with annoying commentary. Just when you thought Hollywood couldn't get any more condescending.
By the time the baddie is all too easily dispatched (without even a mano-a-mano, and not even by Bond's own hand), the girl saved, James' nads re-confirmed in working order after his torture ordeal, and a few nice shots of Venice are in the can, you're left wondering how long it will take for the love interest to turn on James and bring this pain in the balls film to an end. The answer is "longer than most people can stand". By the end of this drivel most of the audience I saw this with were talking amongst themselves, much to the chagrin of one man who asked some people angrily to stop talking, presumably as he was trying to sleep. The introduction of a "twist" in the end, to herald the return of the Bond status quo is as heavy handed as it is unnecessary, and personally, I couldn't get out of the cinema quick enough.
Despite what that prostitute Jonathan Ross may tell you (he gets privileged access to the set and interviews with the celebs - in return he's really sold out his credibility by having too many Hollywood friends that he can't piss off by giving bad reviews to their films - like Russell Crowe and now the cast, crew and director of James Bond films - I mean what's wrong with the Barry Normal model - send a reporter to do the onsite location reporting, keep a distance from the makers of the film, and keep your integrity for your film reviews), this drivel is not worth letting some one PAY YOU to watch, never mind shelling out 10 quid to go and see it.
It's pretty obvious from the "pedigree" of director Martin Campbell (which includes such visionary and groundbreaking films as "Vertical Limit", "The Mask of Zorro", and a pile of second rate TV) that this was never going to be anything approaching a good film - merely a hodge podge of "On Her Majesty's Secret Service", plus "Casino Royale", and 100 million dollars down the drain.
If I'd been kicked in the balls and had 10 quid robbed from me, I'd have had only a marginally worse time.
# posted by Flann O'Brien @ 6:04 AM
