I think lots of people were left elated that Bond had found himself and was kicking
and taking down names. How can a man lose himself when he's finally become the figure audiences are comfortable with, gifted with the official signifiers--gun(even bigger than usual), line and music--that are every Bond actor's patrimony? Fleming makes Bond make a pledge, and I'd cringe if one scene later he caught up to what he pledged to catch. It would be as if Batman was orphaned in one scene and then caught his parent's killer in the next. As it is, what happens at the end of the movie is a conciliatory gesture to the audience, whose long-deferred pleasure in standard Bondiana is granted, and who are now free to revel in the Craig saying *the* line with *the* music. CR doesn't end on tragedy, ro with the sense of waste and loss that tragedy gives. It ends on a note of progress regarding the progress of Bond's pledge and Craig's progress in stepping into a role many were nervous about him filling.
I take your point, and yes, there is some element of the triumphant about it, and a sop to fans. I wouldn't have minded if he had not said the line and we hadn't had the theme kick in, personally, but I'm perverse.

However, I think beyond that superficial air-punching, Craig's performance and the weighting of some of his lines earlier means that this effect wears off pretty quickly, and after a while what you're left with - or what I was left with, at any rate - was the feeling that it was a hollow soulless triumphalism, which he could really have done without. And yes, that the Bond We Know And Love was shaped by the events we have just seen, and that that is not a pretty thought, and he's not the straightforward gung-ho hero he's always been mistaken for. I don't see this as akin to Batman finding his vengeance in a day at all - Bond hasn't solved the problem. He has simply taken the first step in fulfilling his vow. He never did in Fleming. Read the description of Solitaire to see how scarred Bond is by Vesper's death: she is almost a clone of Vesper, and Bond doesn't even think about it. This is probably because Fleming wasn't sure how successful CASINO ROYALE would be when he sat down to write the 'sequel', so he 'rebooted' right away.
What's British about guiding the audience to a conclusion as if it were a child?
I don't read the line that way, but as the knowing acknowledgement and quasi-nostalgia of someone who has long lost their soul for a time when they, too, felt something when committing murder. Bond is a novice at murder: he soon won't be. There's a cosy, wry, deadpan-ness to the line, and I think the 'made' rather than 'did' and the 'it' rather than something more specific, and the question, and the delivery, all bring it away from telegraphing. Some telegraphing is necessary in a scene that is already confusing, because as in most films we're plunged in media res, it's in black and white, there's a new Bond actor, and so on. But I don't find the line as patronising as you, and think there is some juice to it.
I can't help feeling that you've employed something akin to the Basil Fawlty defense. ("We're not satisfied!" "People like you never are.)
Fair point.

But I can also imagine some tweaks that would have made CR more satisfying to me than it is--I can even imagine a director with more vision, such as Quentin Tarantino, who wanted to make a relatively faithful version with Brosnan, succeeding with the material.
Certainly, but hindsight is 20/20, isn't it? I agree, for instance, with a couple of Harmsway's points about OHMSS, but then I think the same could be done for all the Bond films. They're often maddeningly uneven. I guess I think that CASINO ROYALE got so much so right, after so long waiting for precisely these elements to be gotten right, that I am more prone to forgiving some of its weaknesses. It is uneven and dissatisfying in plenty of ways, but I suppose I'd rather look at how it expands on what we have seen already and what I loved about it and what it opens up for the next films than dwell on its - to me - minor faults. But I admit you've given a lot of food for thought. Perhaps it is just that I don't want to consider the faults for fear it will impact my enjoyment of the film.
Let's take a look at the most prominent evidence for that: "Then he slept, and with the warmth and humour of his eyes extinguished, his features relapsed into a taciturn mask, ironical, brutal, cold."
So no, I don't think it's a mis-step to note that even with his eyes wide open Craig doesn't have much of that warmth, but rather a forbidding, icy stare that helps maintain a locked-in, self-contained onscreen personality, even if it belongs to one of "Britain's most enthralling actors".
But
you have chosen that as the most prominent evidence.

I agree that there's not a hell of a lot of warmth in Craig's eyes in this film, although there's plenty of humour. There isn't much physical descrption of Bond in the novel, but what there is usually relates to coldness, and his emotional state is often described in those terms. The words cold, cool and variations repeatedly occur in the book, in relation to both Vesper and Bond.
'He is very good-looking. He reminds me rather of Hoagy Carmichael, but there is something cold and ruthless in his...' Chapter 5
Well, certain websites might dismiss the first sentence, but can there really be any doubt that Daniel Craig has something cold and ruthless in his appearance? (Unless she was going to say something else, of course!)
'Bond looked at her tenderly. Like all harsh, cold men, he was easily tipped over into sentiment.' Chapter 21
Well, you found the shower scene and the armour dialogue hammy; I think it reflected the above very well indeed.
'"He's a dedicated man," her chief had said when he gave her the assignment. "Don't imagine this is going to be any fun. He thinks of nothing but the job on hand and, while it's on, he's absolute hell to work for. But he's an expert and there aren't many about, so you won't be wasting your time. He's a good-looking chap, but don't fall for him. I don't think he's got much heart. Anyway, good luck and don't get hurt."
All this had been something of a challenge and she was pleased when she felt she attracted and interested him, as she knew intuitively that she did. Then at a hint that they were finding pleasure together, a hint that was only the first words of a conventional phrase, he had suddenly turned to ice and had brutally veered away as if warmth were poison to him. She felt hurt and foolish.' Chapter 9
Again, I think Craig's performance fits this, and his physical presence fits it.
'He suddenly had a vision of Vesper walking down a corridor with documents in her hand. On a tray. They just got it on a tray while the cool secret agent with a Double O number was gallivanting round the world - playing Red Indians.' Chapter 27
'He pulled on a shirt and trousers and with a set cold face he walked down and shut himself in the telephone booth.' Chapter 27
The spirit of these two quotes is not in the film to the same extent, as you have eloquently argued - but I do think they are in there. Le Chiffre's dig about MI6 taking him on whatever the outcome and Bond's reaction to it is brief, but concerns the first quote. The second quote was drowned out for you by the large gun, the line and the theme tune, but the set, cold face was there for me, and chilled me.
Craig reverses the dynamic of the novel--he's a brutalist who briefly enjoys playing at being a romantic. This does not strike me so much as depth, but simply the imposition of an actor's personality on flawed material.
Don't many great actors do that, though? Brando in APOCALYPSE NOW, for instance. It's a germ of a thought, but I wonder if this isn't partly a definition of a great actor. Surely Connery did this.
Several commentators have remarked on Fleming's inspiration for LC being Crowley (he certainly has Crowley's eyes). In Ch.10: "LeChiffre, with the silence and economy and movement of a big fish, came through..." The "deep-sea" part was my memory acting up. I don't know if the majority of large fish live near the surface or in the deep.
I was intrigued that you attributed the Crowley inspiration to Fleming. I've always wondered if it were true - there seems little hard evidence for it - and thought perhaps you had the missing piece of that puzzle that would enlighten me.
And anyone can dismiss criticism of any kind from a non-professional in the field as armchair criticism, though in your case you have no problem with armchair praise.
I think the two are very different. One mode presupposes greater knowledge and know-how than the people who created the piece of art, while the other seeks to celebrate and learn from it. Of course we should criticise - we'd have little to discuss otherwise. But your criticisms sometimes strike me as excessively pedantic and overarching and, in a way, condescending. You alone seem to know precisely what they did wrong, and how it all could and should have been rectified. You've got it all worked out, and we're just here to listen. Well, that's caricature, but it's the ballpark area of why I've reacted here and in other threads in this way: simply because your tone and modus operandi sometimes seems a little over the top to me. Perhaps too brutal and cold? Perhaps you could take off the mask for another moment and show us the warm loving humanity inside?
Well, it was worth a try.
I don't watch him eager to see emotions break through the automaton card player. I don't feel the tension in his insistent gaze at Bond (because the movie doesn't go for this), and if the filmmakers were really interested in doing so, they wouldn't have given him that distracting weeping eye either. I don't feel the silent tension that the book delivered, and I don't feel the true perversity of the character.
This all sounds to me a bit like: 'They didn't make the film precisely as I would have done'. I thought there was plenty of silent tension in his staring at Bond over the table. Bond didn't have a vertical scar on his face; Vesper's accent was noticeably not English at all times; there was no smoking; Mathis ain't the same; no straw hats. One could endlessly dissect differences and weaknesses in the film. I suppose I just liked the film better than to feel it worth doing that to such an all-encompassing degree.
But yes, I am aware of how long this post is.

I certainly thought that the stock-market rationale was a good replacement for the unusable commie trade unions/brothels elements, though referencing 9/11 helped make LeChiffre more cartoonish.
True.
The idea in the book is to ridicule and destroy, by forcing Smersh's hand, and there's no reason to assume that LeChiffre would automatically bankrupt himself without determined help.
He needs no help at all, surely. If you owed a large sum of money to a lethal organisation that specıalıses in assassination and you knew they were probably onto you so you had to get it back fast, would you also plan to do so by holding a massive card game in a casino? Surely you'd know that most people who bet large sums of money lose either some, most or all of it, and that the chances are fairly much stacked against you getting it all back and coming good, especially in such a short space of time? If not, we'd all be in the casino right now.

But Le Chiffre has an excuse: he's desperate. MI6 has no excuse other than that Fleming wanted to use this plot so found a weak way of shoehorning it in. In the above scenario, I wouldn't mount an elaborate operation to risk my own money in ensuring you lose - as you're pretty certain to without my help anyway, and I might just lose myself into the bargain. And when you do lose, how are you ridiculed, exactly? You're not: you're just killed by the lethal organisation, as you were going to be all along: rather stupidly, you've advertised your presence at a rather flashy card game. In the meantime, I've lost the love of my life and can't piss straight.