It’s strange, but despite being an excellent 007, Pierce Brosnan only made one truly great Bond film – that being Goldeneye. The others were either mediocre (Tomorrow Never Dies, The World is Not Enough) or downright dreadful (Die Another Day). Therefore the Bond producers had a mammoth task on their hands in order to rescue Bond, to move it away from the jokey, CGI-ridden, clusterfuck mess of the last adventure and back to what made the franchise so enjoyable in the first place – cool action, sexy women and a ruthless hero.

Loud, obnoxious objections were made when Daniel Craig was cast as Bond (oh my fucking god, he’s blonde!), but he’s long since proved his detractors wrong. His Bond is quiet, determined and a bit of a bastard. He’s the complete opposite of Roger Moore, who you felt was more happy firing one liners and drilling bimbos than busting heads and blowing people away. Therefore Craig’s Bond has more in common with Connery and Dalton, which can only be a good thing.

However, Casino Royale must be the first Bond film where 007 himself is the main piece of ass. Time after time we’re confronted with Craig’s bulging muscles. It’s enough to remind you of 80s action films, where the men, much more so than the women, were the main object of longing. Indeed, in the marvellous torture scene, Le Chiffre even compliments Bond on his physique as he prepares to hammer his ball-bags. His dialogue is delivered with such admiration that I couldn’t help but wonder if Le Chiffre was going to oil his pecs and wank him off rather than beat him up.

But homoerotic or not, the scene, for once, shows Bond in real peril. And for once Bond actually gets the crap beaten out of him and doesn’t escape the villain’s clutches via some convenient gadget. But having said this, Bond does show remarkable fortitude for someone who’s having his testicles smashed. He taunts the villain and laughs in his face. Ordinarily, this in itself would be laughable, but seeing as it’s 007 you can’t help but get a kick out of it. That’s our boy – his gonads may be wrecked but he’s still the man.

As well as being a tough Bond film, quite a bit has been written about 007 showing his softer side. For the most part, the scenes with Eva Green work well. The scene in the shower, for instance, where Bond comforts Vesper and sucks her fingers is very sexy (I’m sure it wet the drawers of many a housewife). But some of the later scenes, where the two decide to run off to Venice, feel a little pap. They’re never risible – mainly because Green and Craig have a lot of chemistry together – but they could have been improved. And their first encounter on the train is also a little lacklustre. Part of this is because Green, for all her style and charisma, never looks as if she’s 100% comfortable in the part (sometimes she seems to be trying too hard), but it’s also due to the writing. I mean, all the amateur psychoanalysis is incredibly heavy-handed and the stuff about Bond’s watch is just plain awful. ‘Rolex?’ ‘Omega.’ ‘Beautiful.’ Ker-ching! (By the way, anyone working for Omega who’s reading this: I have one of your watches; can I have some money, too, and some free gifts?)

But aside from these minor complaints, the film works like gangbusters. It’s truly up there with On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, From Russia With Love, Goldeneye and Licence to Kill as one of the best Bond films. In particular what I like is just how ruthless Bond is in this film. As much as I get a kick out of dear old Rog delivering one liners and judo chops, I prefer Bond to be a cold-blooded murderer. I want him to seem like a physical threat. I don’t want him just to be a ladies man. Therefore I love seeing Craig strangle, drown and stab bad guys. And I like seeing him shoot people without batting an eyelid. In too many films these days we have the tortured hero; it’s nice to just have someone who’s unapologetically mean.

One of my favourite little Bond moments in this film is when he defeats a bad guy at poker and wins the man’s Aston Martin. The casual way that Bond asks for the valet ticket is a joy to behold. As is the moment when a couple of fat German tourists mistake Bond for a hotel employee. Again, I love the casual way that he smashes their Range Rover and tosses their car keys. This is the Bond we’ve been waiting a long time to see; a Bond of action rather than groansome quips.

Not that there aren’t some good lines in the film. There’s a nice little bit of humour after Bond nearly has a heart attack. ‘I’m sorry. That last hand. Nearly killed me.’ And I love Bond’s reaction to how he wants his Martini, shaken or stirred. ‘Do I look like I give a damn?’ You finally get the feeling that the series is shaking off the ghost of the past. It finally seems to be heading in a new direction.

Whether this new attitude is maintained, though, remains to be seen. After all, Goldeneye gave me false hope that the franchise was going to be reinvigorated and it quickly fell back into its old ways. But regardless of whether that happens, what we have here is a great Bond film. Or should I say, a great pre-Bond film, as it’s only in the final scene that we finally see the true 007 – this movie is all about how he became. And the final moment, where Bond finally becomes Bond, is maybe the highlight of the movie. Let’s hope it’s not downhill from here.

Contrary to popular opinion, Star Wars isn’t the greatest film ever made. But neither is it, as some people would lead you to believe, the anti-Christ. Instead it’s a very enjoyable film that has been blown out of all proportion by geeks and fanboys – yeah, walking carpets and lightsaber-wielding old men are fun, but they’re not the height of cinema.

One of the reasons why the original films work and the new ones don’t is that Lucas was restricted by money and technology. Here he isn’t able to hide his deficiencies behind a barrage of CGI, meaning that he has to craft an interesting story. Of course this means his ‘vision’ is constrained, but when your ideal vision contains ten ton of needless effects, it’s providential that the film came out before the advent of digital technology.

It’s also worth noting that for all of Lucas’ sighing and moaning about the state of film effects in the 70s that the original film still looks pretty great even now. There’s something more tangible and believable about effective model work – you feel like you can reach out and touch the Star Destroyer at the beginning. And although you occasionally get the odd dodgy shot where you can see Death Star landscapes that are blatantly model kits stuck together, it’s no more blatant than the horribly phoney CGI storm-troopers in the prequels – both take you out of the film for a moment; only in the case of the prequels the out of place effects work is far more frequent.

Something else that’s worth noting is the newly installed Jabba scene. For all the money that must have been spent on it, the CGI Jabba looks far less convincing than the puppet. And the scene, besides needlessly setting up the later films – it’s far better to have Jabba remain a mystery until you finally meet him – adds nothing to the film. It seems to be nothing more than an effects test for the prequels that followed closely on the heels of the ’97 special edition release of the original trilogy.

Of course, the most controversial addition/alteration to Star Wars is Greedo shooting first. Quite why Lucas did this, I’m not sure, but it dilutes Han’s character. The reason why he was every kid’s favourite is that he was a badass. But now he’s a slightly more ordinary hero. And although the alteration didn’t rape my childhood like some pathetic fanboys exclaimed, it does reflect poorly on Lucas – the tinkering is pointless.

But even though some of the alterations are annoying, Lucas can’t destroy a very enjoyable film. For instance, in light of the dire attempts at humour in the prequels, it’s quite shocking how amusing Star Wars is. Just take the banter between the robots – they’re like a bickering couple. And then you have the Han and Chewie relationship. Who knew that an ex-carpenter and an overgrown dog could have such good chemistry? And then you have pure slapstick moments like when R2-D2 gets captured by the Jawas – the way R2 falls over with a thud is magnificent.

But the film also has pathos. Take the scene where Luke looks at the setting suns, yearning for adventure, or when he’s confronted with the dead bodies of his guardians. It’s here that the film comes closest to transcending its B-movie origins. However, speaking of this scene, it’s quite shocking to realise that this film was given a ‘U’ certificate in Britain. After all, this is a film where you see charred bodies and where someone gets their arm chopped off. It may not be Peckinpah, but it’s not The Care Bears Movie either.

Another piece of violence that I adore in this film is when Vader strangles some Rebel officer and then tosses his dead body into a wall. It’s so casual. It immediately sets Vader up as the baddest man in the galaxy. Too bad Lucas had to ruin the character in the prequels.

Something else that works for the film is how wet Luke is. He’s the naïve, hopelessly optimistic hero that has probably never thought about a girl, let alone been with one. And then you have Han, the mercenary who loves money and is full of wisecracks. Both are a million miles away from the bland Jedi that poisoned the second trilogy. These are people that you can invest in and care for – they feel like flesh and blood, as opposed to the characters in the prequels, who talk and behave like automatons.

And purely from a personal point of view, I love the stromtroopers in this film. They must be the most hopeless fighting force in the universe. Not only can’t they shoot straight, but they’re irredeemably stupid, too. Just take the scene where they’re scouting Mos Eisley for our heroes. At one point they tap on a door, proclaim it to be locked and move on. That’s real thorough! And then you have the scene where the Millennium Falcon is swallowed by the Death Star. Some stormtroopers walk in, and after a two second search, proclaim it to be empty. Wonderful! And another thing I love is the way they don’t bat an eyelid when one of their pals gets gunned down by Princess Leia at the beginning. Stupid and heartless; a wonderful combination (clumsy too, as proved by the infamous scene where one of the morons clonks his head on a door).

But a few other things that I’ve pondered over the years – why is Vader always fiddling with his joystick in his TIE fighter, why does an overly enthusiastic rebel pilot excessively bounce in his cockpit and why does Obi Wan only become a ghost instead of becoming ‘more powerful than you can possibly imagine’? I doubt we’ll ever have the answers…