Borrowing heavily from Pat Kirkham and Janet Thumin (editors of You Tarzan, Masculinity, Movies and Men), I would say that the qualities asserted or assumed in the construction of masculine characters, either to establish them as role models or out of a conscious concern with an interrogation of masculinity, are mainly based on four main sites: the body, the action, the external world and the internal world. Since we will be dealing here with Daniel Craig’s Bond in Casino Royale, I assume we will not discover an interrogation of a certain kind of masculinity, but the construction of a role model, a refurbished one at that, which may end up telling us more about patriarchal anxieties than about any ideal male. No more metrosexual 007, neither a suave techno-Saint, Daniel Craig’s Bond is much closer to Sean Connery’s (or to the Lone Ranger’s, for that matter) but with a twist. His masculinity reminds me a lot more of Russell Crow’s Gladiator than of any of the previous Bonds. However, as I will explain, the Gladiator was a leader, a men’s man, not a loner; so it must be a hybrid case we are facing here.

Source: IMDb

Daniel Craig’s body in Casino Royale is the centre of attention during the whole film. The poster used to advertise the film already speaks of a man on the move, a man of action; and his accoutrements confirm the type: his gun and his sports car. But that’s not all. While other Bonds gave us hints of their physical endowment, Craig bares almost all literally. Compare, for instance, the body of Sean Connery in the French ad dor Thunderball with Craig’s emerging from a swim at the Lido.

Source: IMDb

Source: Xinhuanet News Agency

Given how little clothing he wears, the details become meaningful. The choice of a hugging, light blue swimming suit mirroring Craig’s eyes seems to stress not only the obvious bulge but the idea that whoever is looking at it/him (inside the film or as spectator) is also facing Bond’s gaze, a controlling gaze. The invitation to the audience to admire him as spectacle is thus dissociated from passivity and associated with action, control and power. The scene where we see him completely naked, hand-tied, in foetal position and being tortured, while never disavowing the homoerotic attraction the spectacle offers (even the torturer comments on what a waste it is to damage such a well formed body), ends up reinforcing the moral and physical endurance and strength which is considered essential for this man. He may be hurt physically but he will endure and uphold his principles no matter what, reassuring the spectator that his male body corresponds to a real man’s soul. In case there could be any doubt about whose masculinity should prevail in this scene, Bond reduces Le Chiffre to the status of “ball-scratcher” about to die: “[laughing—after being struck five times with a knotted rope] Now the whole world’s gonna know that you died scratching my balls!”. Before this scene, Le Chiffre had already been characterized by his weeping eye, by the uncontrollable tears of blood a lot easier to associate with menstrual discharge than with the liquid elements (sea, sweat and shower) that are a constant in the case of Bond.

All the action in the film revolves around the skills of this male body. This Bond does not need any gadgets to help him achieve his goals. His always visible wrist-watch will not have any other function than telling the time, but a point is made about its make. It is not anymore the precursors’ standard Rolex but an Omega. Most probably this change of brand is simply a matter of product placement, but (indulge me) it may also play a role in the refurbishing of the new Bond masculinity: the alpha male started the saga, here comes the last and best, the ultimate Bond, the extreme male, the omega man.

The interactions Craig’s Bond has with the external world are much better defined by the way he relates to the two women in the film than to the men. The latter are either obstacles to conquer or means to an end. M (Judy Dench) plays mother to an excessively independent son. Sometimes she is stern and admonitory, but never disapproving completely of her boy. M’s authority is visually tied to her private world (we even see her in bed with her husband) instead of to the functional offices of MI5. When her boy returns safely home, she even has the time and the inclination to explain to him how the feminine soul works: his beloved Vesper Lynd didn’t betray him as he thinks; in fact, she traded with the evil forces in order to save his life. His relationship with Vesper evolves from an apparent indifference (Am I going to have a problem with you, Mr. Bond? / No, don’t worry, you’re not my type. / Smart? / Single) into a true romantic involvement. While the usual Bond would just conquer and leave, this time he falls in love with a beautiful, intelligent and sensitive woman whose shadow, we are led to believe, will follow him for ever. In this relationship Bond is not only a great performer, he is also sensitive, protective, touchy-feely.

Source: IMDb

The scene in the shower exemplifies what I mean. Vesper is shaken, in tears, trying to calm down under the shower and fully clothed. Bond joins her, sits by her side, embraces her protectively and gets just as wet, while we admire at the same time the size and shape of his torso and the sweetness of his caresses. He is a loving man, a man who could get domesticated. He is even ready to drop his career for her: “I have no armour left. You’ve stripped it from me. Whatever is left of me—whatever is left of me—whatever I am—I’m yours.” His relationship with Vesper, then, gives us a view into his inner world. But the film could not end like that. The fact that he has been willing to drop his guard both physically and emotionally has shown him and us his vulnerability. This will not do for a true Bond. He will bury all his feelings for Vesper along with her body so that he can continue to be Bond. As he crudely puts it: “The job’s done, the bitch is dead”.

So, what are we to make of the omega man and his masculinity? What’s new?

As I mentioned before, the novelties of Craig’s Bond have more to do with patriarchal anxieties than with any kind of new masculinity. The film pays lip/eye service to a certain amount of inner depth or capabilities in the main character, and to the idea that a woman, M, is boss. But, as I hope to have shown, M behaves like a worrying mother (perhaps a new labour soft Britannia). Vesper, in spite of all her cleverness and professionalism, makes every move responding exclusively to her feelings: first out of loyalty to a previous lover, then out of love for Bond. And she sacrifices herself for him. Our new Bond offers his body as spectacle, as candy for the eyes, for heterosexual women and for homosexual men. But there is no genuflection to either in terms of socialization. In the end he is the oldest model of masculinity, something that heterosexual men cannot own but rather that they must live up to. This kind of masculinity is revived in cinema over and over in times of crisis such as the difficult to justify current international wars. Aggression, disregard for one’s safety, unquestionable loyalty to the mother-land, and a lean and mean machine of a body constitute the omega man. Women can remain being all feelings, particularly if those feelings express themselves in terms of perpetual awe towards him.

Dr Maria Donapetry is Lecturer in Spanish at Balliol College. Her main research interests revolve around gender and film.